Motherhood is Murder(8)

“Margaret?” Lee looked at his notebook and read back to me my own words. “ ‘Margaret had been sitting alone at our table for a while.’ ” He gestured with his hand for me to elaborate.

“Yeah, that’s right, but it was later in the evening. Margaret did go upstairs with Helene, but then came back alone. At that point, dinner was over, so people were milling about. I didn’t keep track of everyone’s movements.”

Maybe I should have.

How would I ever make a good PI if I wasn’t more observant?

“So, Helene said she wasn’t feeling well. Was she drunk?”

I shrugged, recalling the empty glasses at her place. “She seemed a little tipsy.”

Lee pulled his card from a breast pocket and handed it to me. “Okay, Mrs. Connolly, if you remember anything, call me. Otherwise, if I can see your driver’s license for a moment, I think we’re done here.”

As I pulled my wallet from my purse, several slips of paper rained onto the floor. I grabbed the two by my feet, one a shopping list, the other my to-do list. Officer Lee retrieved the piece of paper near him. One of my homemade PI business cards.

Oh no!

Officer Lee read the card and frowned. “You’re an investigator?”

“I . . . um . . . I’m trying to be.”

Lee leaned in closer as the Pac-Man machine again killed off a character, the tune underscoring my feeling of consternation. He scratched his chin. “Anything else you can think of that you want to share with me right now?”

“Like what?” I stuttered.

Lee pressed his palms against the video game and closed in on me. “Mrs. Connolly, were you on this cruise for business?”

“What? No. What do you mean?”

Lee evaluated me for a long moment. I sat perfectly still, not even sure what expression I should put on my face.

Finally Lee rested back into the lounge chair. “Okay. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”





CHAPTER FOUR





Nurture





To Do:



1. Buy diapers.

2. Make Laurie’s two-month check.

3. Find good “how to” book for PI business.

4. Exercise.

5. What happened to Helene? Can I help the police?

6. Is there any way to land this case as a PI?

7. Buy Ricky Martin CD—seems to help Laurie sleep.

Five A.M. and I cradled and nursed Laurie in our favorite spot in the living room. Not able to sleep but still being confined to the bedroom made no sense to me, so I’d gotten used to packing Laurie up in her bassinet and wheeling everything to the living room at first light.

Who was I kidding?

There was no light at 5 A.M.—not in November in San Francisco. The first light usually hit after the entire nursing routine was over and Laurie had a fresh diaper and a full tummy and was down to sleep again—around 6 A.M.

Jim and I had arrived home past two in the morning and found Mom asleep on the couch, apparently tuckered out from sambaing with Hank, Ricky Martin, and Laurie.

By all accounts, I should have been in bed fast asleep, but I’d missed Laurie terribly and was trying to make up for lost time.

I was stunned by last night’s events. How could Helene be dead? She had been so alive, so full of energy, only hours ago. How tragic for her life to be cut short.

What about her kids? How many? How old were they? Now they would have to grow up without a mommy.

My heart felt heavy. I clutched Laurie and wept.

Mortality.

I squeezed and nuzzled Laurie into my neck and tried to pull whatever comfort I could from the living. Here I held a brand-new baby in my arms, so much ahead of her. All of life, with challenges, with blessings, ups and downs. And I wanted to be there. I wanted to be next to her to support and love her.

I stroked her soft down-like hair and she closed her eyes appreciatively.

“Mommy loves you,” I said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Her eyes opened and she stared straight up at me. A smile crossed her face, and miraculously, she looked as though she had understood me perfectly. She cooed at me.

“Yes, peanut, Mommy loves you.”

She grinned.

“And you love Mommy!” I tickled her tummy.

She giggled.

My heart skipped a beat.

My little peanuty pie was growing up so fast! Only seven weeks old and already we were practically having a conversation!

Laurie lost interest in my face and cried out, rooting for milk.

Okay, so maybe we had a ways to go before we could actually have a conversation.

I held her tiny hand and rubbed it. Between the fingers I found lint.

Lint?

I had bathed her last night; where had the lint come from?

I absently picked at it, my mind drifted back to Helene.

What could have happened to her? I recounted the events of the evening; maybe I could come up with something for Officer Lee.

We’d had dinner, then the server had brought dessert.

Was I the only one who ate it?

Ate? Inhaled was more like it.

I recalled the sweet ice cream perfectly complementing the tart apple turnover . . .