Motherhood is Murder(66)

“I’m trying out a new recipe for pumpkin pie.”

“Okay.”





I sat in Paula’s kitchen, stirring the hot cocoa she’d made me and staring out into her garden. Her once green grass had yellowed and all the pots were empty. Keeping up the garden while she’d been away had been too much of an effort to coordinate, so she’d let it go—which, knowing Paula, had probably killed her.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said, cutting me a piece of the still steaming pie. “The police have a hard time closing cases, why shouldn’t you?”

Danny ran into the kitchen holding a plush blue ball and screamed, “Ball!”

I put my hands out to collect it from him and he gave me the biggest smile I’d seen in a long time.

“Kiss Auntie,” Paula said.

Danny leaned into me and said, “Kiss!”

He pressed his lips, tongue, and teeth against my cheek and made his own clicking sound, bringing a smile to my face.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled his small body onto my lap. “Thank you, buddy, that was the best kiss ever!”

Laurie watched us from the safety of her bucket seat.

“So are you convinced it was Bruce?” Paula asked, liberally dolloping whipped cream onto the pie.

Danny spotted Laurie and screamed excitedly, “Baby Lo-ly!”

“Of course it was Bruce. Only now Gary the Grizzly is going to try and get me to pin it on Margaret.”

Danny scrambled out of my lap and ran to the glass door that separated the kitchen from the garden. He placed his pudgy palms on the glass and banged. “Danny garden!”

Paula pulled him away from the glass door. “No. Danny. Cold. Brrr!” Paula picked up the ball and threw it into the other room.

Danny lost interest in the garden, left fingerprints smudged on the glass, and ran out of the room with as much gusto as he had when he’d run in.

“Do you know if Margaret has access to that drug?” Paula asked, placing the pie in front of me.

“Fentanyl? Well, I suppose she could—being married to a doctor, right?” I tore into the pie. The pumpkin was still warm, the cream chilled, and the crust crisp. “Oh my God!”

Paula smiled. “Is it good? Is this the one I should make?”

I shook my head and shoveled another piece into my mouth. “It’s terrible. You need to try a different one tomorrow. I’ll come over and taste-test. In the meantime, don’t eat this one. I’ll take it home.”

Paula laughed. “I’ll give you the recipe. Why do think she hasn’t called you back?”

“Margaret? I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s time you talked to Alan.”

I cringed. “You mean tell him his wife suspected him of murder?”

Paula pulled out a Windex bottle. “Oh, I don’t know why I bother!” she said, squirting the glass door. “Look at it this way, Kate. You can go talk to the doctor and possibly solve this thing or go home, clean house, and start getting ready for Thanksgiving.”

“No. I don’t even have fuzzy pajamas to put on.”





I drove straight home to drop Laurie off with Jim. I found him in the living room watching the news of the spiraling Dow Jones and praying the downturn wouldn’t affect his client so adversely that his contract would be canceled.

“Hi, honey, can you babysit?”

Jim looked up from the television. “You’re going out again?”

I nodded.

“Okay. What do I need to do? Feed her? Is there milk?”

I rubbed his shoulders. “Yes, there’s three ounces in a little bottle in the fridge.”

“Can I microwave it?”

“No, you have to heat water—you can do that in the microwave—then put the bottle into the cup of hot water to heat. Otherwise the nuker will destroy the beneficial properties in the breast milk, whatever they are.”

Jim nodded. “When will you be back?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“I won’t be long. I need to go to Sacramento Street.”





It was almost 5:00 P.M. and I hoped Alan would still be at his office finishing paperwork after his final appointment. I pushed open the door to the medical office and entered the waiting room. Joan sat behind the closed-in glass counter. She was in her uniform lab coat, her gray hair curled around her ears.

When I stepped up to the counter, she blinked at me, trying to place me.

I smiled. “Is Dr. Lipe available?”

She frowned. “He’s with a patient right now. How may I help you?”

“Will you kindly let him know Kate Connolly is here?”

She stared at me. Did she see a resemblance to my mom? She didn’t know I was Vera’s daughter. That was the ace in my back pocket should she not wish to cooperate.

Ha! I know you are gossiping about your boss. You better let me get my way!

She pushed herself away from the desk and rose, not hesitating to give me a look of contempt as she disappeared down the hallway.

A few moments later, she pulled open the connecting door. “He’ll see you in his office, third door on the right.”

She resumed her perch at the counter and I walked down the hallway.

Hmm, no patient, huh?