Motherhood is Murder(68)

I remembered Margaret asking me to keep quiet on Alan’s access to drugs. Now that I knew she had an addiction, this made sense.

I stood.

He stood with me, his face lined with sadness. “I need to know what happened to Helene. Do you have any additional information?”

I was furious. He was a cheat. Had practically destroyed his poor wife and was colluding to steal the kids from her. The entire thing made me feel sick to my stomach and I didn’t want to help him in any way.

And Helene?

What kind of person had an affair with her best friend’s husband and schemed to take her kids?

I shook my head. “You’ll have to speak with the homicide cops. Inspector McNearny is assigned.”

He nodded as I stepped to the door.

“Doctor, one last question. Can you tell me where you were on Tuesday the fifteenth?”

His eyes narrowed. “Here. I had appointments all day.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE





Praying





I dialed Margaret from my car. I left her a bit of a panicked voice mail announcing that if she didn’t call me back shortly, I was driving to her parents’ house to find her.

I hung up and dialed Jim. “Is everything okay with you and Laurie? I want to follow a lead.”

“What lead?” Jim asked.

I explained to him my increasing concern about Margaret. He assured me that he could manage Laurie but made me promise to phone the police at the first sign of any trouble.

Margaret’s folks lived in Palo Alto, a short drive out of San Francisco. Night was falling quickly and I noticed the full moon rising. The sky turned orange and pink as the sun set on another day. I ran through my to-do list in my mind. Thanksgiving was fast approaching and I still needed to make a lot of preparations, starting with a detailed honey-do list for Jim.

I arrived at the address Alan had jotted down for me and parked my car at the curb near a large Dumpster. It didn’t appear as if anyone was home. There were no cars in the driveway or lights on in the house.

Maybe the cars were parked in the garage and everyone could be at the back of the house for all I knew. I walked up the jasmine-lined walkway. Only moonlight illuminated the path but I could identify the flowers by their sweet scent. It was the same scent as Laurie’s shampoo and it made me miss her terribly.

What was I doing here instead of home with her and Jim?

I waved my arms around hoping to trigger an automatic eye on the walkway light. Nothing came on. On the front porch was a tricycle with a baseball in the basket.

In the corner of the porch, I noticed a few shards of glass glinting in the moonlight. The glass from a small window on the front door was missing. It appeared someone had broken the window and made an attempt at cleaning up. Only they’d missed a few pieces.

I rang the bell and waited.

Please, Margaret, open the door.

Where could she be? And why wasn’t she retuning my calls? If she was fine, where was she now? She had two small children—where were they? And what about her parents? It was a cold Tuesday night, not like there was much partying going on.

I wrapped my jacket around myself tighter and rang the bell again, leaning on it so a continuous ring sounded.

I contemplated calling McNearny. But what would I say? I think my client is missing?

What about the shards of glass and the broken window?

Had someone broken in?

Could I reach inside the door and unlock it? Then what?

No.

The last time I’d gone into someone’s house who wasn’t answering the door, I’d found her dead. And that had resulted in a downtown interrogation and countless night-mares.

I released the doorbell and headed down the walkway away from the house. Maybe I could see something from the street. I walked passed the Dumpster and stood next to my car.

What was a Dumpster doing in this high-end neighborhood?

Maybe they were moving.

An uneasy feeling settled into my stomach—all my defenses on alert. Images of Margaret’s twisted and ravaged body surrounded by garbage filled my mind.

No! Kate, come on, don’t lose it.

She is not in the Dumpster!

A crackling sound emanated from some nearby bushes.

A mouse?

A squirrel?

A murderer hiding out?

I swallowed past the fear that was building inside me. Why had I come here alone? I should call McNearny, just dial him now. Who cared if I looked like a fool?

Instead, I pressed my car keychain’s automatic horn alarm. The car lights went on and the horn blasted alternately. With all the noise, I couldn’t tell if the scurrying crackling sounds from the bushes had ceased. I pressed the alarm button again to stop it.

The bushes were silent.

But what did that prove? If someone was hiding out, wouldn’t they be quiet now that I’d just blasted my horn?

Suddenly a light went on in the house.

Someone was inside.

I rushed up the walkway away from the bushes.

Wait.

What if it was an intruder?

I froze.

Maybe I should get into my car and call the police.