by Diana Orgain
“Thanks for your time, Kiku. If you think of anything that can help me with my investigation, will you call me?”
Kiku wrote down the number I rattled off. I’d have to add another item to my never-ending to-do list-print business cards!
I waved to her as I stepped out. “Good luck with the birth. You’ll have fun with your new baby. You’ll love being a mom.”
I checked my voice mail as soon as I reached the car. There was a message from Crane; he’d tried the number I’d given him for George and got a “temporarily out of service” message. I threw my cell phone to the floor on the passenger side and screamed out my frustration, startling Laurie enough to make her cry, too. Great!
“Sorry, petunia,” I mumbled.
Laurie continued to fuss. I put the car in drive and pulled out. The motion soon settled her down.
I aimlessly headed to Pier 23. No George in sight. Okay, Plan B.
I glanced at my watch as I parked in front of El Paraiso. Not quite lunchtime.
I pulled the baby carrier out of my trunk and put it on, then picked Laurie up out of the car seat and adjusted her inside the carrier. She immediately nestled herself between my breasts and fell asleep.
I walked into the restaurant. It was the lull before the noontime rush. The hostess with stud piercings on her face was sorting menus at her podium. She glanced unenthusiastically at me.
“Hi. Is George Connolly working today?”
She frowned and fingered the stud through her eyebrow. “George Connolly? We don’t have anyone here by that name.”
“Okay. How about the manager, Rich Hanlen?”
“Oh. He’s not in yet. He usually comes in around noon. If it’s important, he’s probably across the street.” She lifted her chin in the general direction of the window.
I looked through glass and saw a bar. “Café du Sur?” I asked.
She’d already gone back to sorting the menus.
I crossed the street and pulled open the door of Café du Sur. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim interior. A country song was playing on an old-fashioned jukebox against the wall. The bar was practically deserted, except for the bartender, Rich, and two older men playing dice. They all looked up at me as I came in.
Perfect. If I could talk to Rich here, I wouldn’t have to suffer through another conversation in his dark office, especially with Laurie in tow. There was no way I wanted to risk that again, although I felt Laurie was much safer now nestled next to me in the baby carrier rather than in the stroller.
The bartender moved down the bar toward me. Rich stood and picked up his drink, as a slow look of recognition crossed his face. I couldn’t very well say he was happy to see me.
I managed a weak hello and a wave. He broke away from the other men and met me in the middle of the bar, along with the bartender.
I felt like an idiot. What kind of mother would take a four-week-old baby into a bar?
Rich placed his empty glass on the counter and said, “I’ll have another and whatever the lady would like.”
The bartender nodded and turned to me. “Ma’am?”
I’d have to get used to the “ma’am” thing quickly. It seemed to be happening far too often these days. On the bright side, I could have something to drink here without worrying that the bartender would poison me.
“How about an orange juice?”
The bartender poured my juice and prepared an Irish coffee for Rich in silence. I watched with longing as the bartender piled the whipped cream onto the coffee, but resisted the urge to change my order.
After we were served, the bartender retreated to the end of the bar where the older men were sitting, out of earshot, although still safely in sight.
“What can I do for you?” Rich asked, placing a twenty on the bar to cover our drinks.
“I’m really in a bind. I need to know where George is. I saw him yesterday, he told me he works at El Paraiso, but your hostess says he doesn’t.”
Rich played with his glass. “Oh, she doesn’t know him. If you’re looking for him, why not try his old lady? I mean, the baby’s due anytime, so he won’t be far.”
I felt my heart thumping in my throat. I tried to swallow it down and act casual. My shock must have shown.
He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t know you were going to be an auntie? Gal by the name of Kiku. She’s very nice. I’m sure you’ll all be one happy, cozy family.” He stirred the cream into his coffee and took a self-satisfied sip.
I fought the childish impulse to smash his face into the cream.
Kiku was with George?
“May I ask where you were yesterday morning, say between the hours of nine and noon?”
He frowned. “Here at the bar. Why?”
“Svetlana Avery was found murdered yesterday morning. Shot.”
His face paled. “Holy shit.”
“A witness saw a man leaving her house. Any idea who that could have been?”
Rich paused, then took a long drink and shook his head. “Nope. I knew her when she was with Brad. Good-looking chick, I’m sure there was no shortage of men in her life.”
“What about Monday, more or less around the same time, nine to noon?”
He studied me a moment. “Monday was when Michelle was killed. Are you trying to pin these murders on me?”
“Not at all. Can you tell me where you were?”
Rich swung on the barstool and called, “Hey, Burt, can you come here a sec?”
The bartender sauntered over. “Another?”
“No,” Rich said. “Can you tell the lady where I was on Monday from nine to noon?”
Burt smiled, then turned to me. “Rich was here, sweet-heart, sitting right there on that barstool, having a couple of Irish coffees.”
“How ’bout yesterday?” Rich pushed.
“Same.”
“Thanks, Burt,” Rich said.
Burt nodded, then retreated back to his corner.
I drank my juice and decided on a different tactic. “Rich, I need your help.” I softened my voice. “I’ve been hired by Brad’s mother to find out what happened to him.”
His shoulder rose as he inhaled, then dropped a degree as he let out an audible sigh. “I already told you I don’t know what happened.”
“Who was he sleeping with?”
“Back to that? You’re relentless, aren’t you?” He studied first my face, then tried my breast, which due to the baby carrier was pushed to the side and conveniently located for his perusal.
I shifted on the barstool. “You won’t find the answer there.”
He laughed, a curiously embarrassed laugh. And I thought he was beyond social mores.
“Sorry. . I. . yeah, you were asking about Brad. Chicks always ask about Brad. All my life they’ve asked about him, and now, even when he’s dead and gone, they’re still asking.”
“You hardly seem like you’d play second fiddle to him.”
“You mean I look okay? That’s what you mean. But chicks like money and Brad had tons of it. Not that I’m hurting now either, but, you know, the Averys are loaded.”
“Are you close to Gloria Avery?”
“What do you mean?”
“She seemed very fond of you,” I lied.
He looked pleasantly surprised. “Old Glo? I always thought she had a soft spot for me.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
He polished off his drink and pushed the empty glass away from him. “Well, sure. Brad and I met in high school.”
“You went to the same school?”
“Are you kidding me? Brad went to Trinity. You know how expensive that school is? I went to good ole Lincoln High. We met at a Holy Rosary dance in ’93.”
“I went to Holy Rosary.”
He looked me over, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.
I couldn’t read the look. Was it disdain?
He said, “Right. I forgot you knew Michelle in high school.”
How
did Rich know Michelle and I had gone to high school together?
“Yeah, but Brad didn’t go to any dance with Michelle. I don’t think they knew each other then.”
Rich tried to hide his smirk in his drink. “Nah, it wasn’t Michelle.”
“Who’d he go with?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It was a long time ago. I barely remember the name of my date, much less his.” He stood, smoothing down his leather jacket. “I gotta get to the restaurant.”
“Who was your date?”
“What?”
“At the dance, when you met Rich, who was your date?”
“Carol something.”
He waved at the bartender and slipped out the front door. I pulled out my notebook. What had the interview yielded me?
Nothing.
Well, at least I knew where to look for George and that he was expecting a baby. What now? I reviewed my to-do list, checking things off and adding a few.
To-Do List:
1. Free Jim.
2. Find Brad and/or Michelle’s killer.
3. ✓
4. ✓
5. Call Winter Henderson re: hippie chick alibi.
6. Make OB appointment.
7. ✓
8. Check out Horoaki graduation date from UCSF.
9. Print business cards.
10. Find George AGAIN.
•CHAPTER SIXTEEN•
The Fifth Week-The Need to Suck
On my way home I dialed first Jim’s cell phone-no answer-then Mr. Crane’s. No answer. I left a somewhat irrational message for Mr. Crane with Kiku and George’s address.
By the time Laurie and I got home, we were both exhausted and hungry.
I called Jim’s name as soon as I opened the garage door.
No Jim.
In frustration, I threw Laurie’s diaper bag across the room.
The witness couldn’t have identified him, right?
I melted onto the sofa with Laurie. She howled in my face.
“I know, pumpkin pie. You’re hungry.”
After all her needs were met, she continued to wail. I fought the urge to join her. “What is it now, jelly bean?” I gazed into her lovely eyes. No tears. Her wail was more of a complaint than a cry.
I found a pacifier I had been given at the hospital and placed it in Laurie’s mouth. She stopped crying.
Ah. Peace and quiet.
The pacifier soothed her overwhelming need to suckle, without getting additional nutrition. Nonnutritive sucking, that’s what Laurie’s pediatrician had called it.
I set Laurie on the floor in her baby gym. She studied the hanging cow, monkey, and chicken.
Now what would I do about food for myself? I needed to eat to keep my mind from spiraling off the deep end about Jim. Stopping at the grocery store had never even crossed my mind. I made a mental note to add it to my to-do list.
I rummaged through our phone book drawer looking for the menu of the Chinese restaurant down the street. Before Laurie was born, Jim and I used to eat there at least once a week. Since Laurie was born, we hadn’t eaten there at all. My mouth watered, thinking about their sweet-and-sour prawns.
I found an old receipt from the restaurant that was covered with what appeared to be soy sauce.
Gross.
I would have to clean out this drawer.
Another thing to add to my never-ending to-do list.
I moved on to our map drawer and found nothing helpful except a nail file, clippers, and a bottle of hand moisturizer. What were these items doing in our map drawer?
Time to get organized, Kate. Plus, I needed to do my nails.
Where was the menu for Dragon House?
I wandered through the house. I stopped in the kitchen. On the refrigerator staring at me from under a cookie magnet was the pink menu.
Sometimes I could miss my own nose.
How would I ever solve a triple homicide if I was so oblivious? Had I missed clues that had been right in front of me?
I dialed Dragon House and ordered chow mein, pot stickers, and sweet-and-sour prawns.
“Anything else?” the clerk asked.
I ignored the pang of guilt as I added Peking-style spareribs to the order. I reasoned that Jim should be home at any minute and would be starving. Besides, I needed the extra five hundred calories a day for Laurie.
After replacing the receiver on the hook, it immediately rang back.
Hopefully, it wasn’t the restaurant calling to tell me my credit card hadn’t gone through. Or worse yet, the sheriff’s department with bad news about Jim. I pushed the thought from my head and reminded myself to stay positive.
“Kate? It’s George.”
“George! Where are you?”
“Is Jim there?”
“No. He’s still-”
“I really need to talk to you about something, Kate.”
“That makes two of us.”
“I’m on your corner. Can I come up?”
I felt ready to explode at him, but checked my anger. If I blew up at him for causing all this mess, I might not hear what he wanted to tell me.
In a matter of seconds I heard George making his way up my front steps. I scooped Laurie off the floor and opened the door.
George’s face broke into a smile when he saw us. “Can I hold her?”
I hesitated momentarily. What was I afraid of? George had never been anything but a gentleman with me.
George noticed my hesitation. “It’s cool. I don’t have to hold her. But, I mean, I won’t drop her or anything.”
I laughed. “I know.” I handed her off to him and sank into an easy chair. “What’s going on?”
“Things are all messed up, Kate. I don’t know what to do.” He looked at Laurie then back at me. “I met a gal at the restaurant and, well, she’s expecting our baby.”
I hid my surprise. I had expected to have to beat the information out of him. Why was he suddenly forthcoming?
Something was wrong.
“When is the baby due?” I asked.
“Pretty soon. I’m getting kinda nervous.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
George paced the room, bouncing Laurie in his arms. “I don’t know, Kate. I like her a lot. . well, hell. . I love her. She’s great. It’s just that, well, you know, she’s pushing me to commit. . and I’m not good at providing and. . being responsible.”
“It’s time to step up to the plate. A baby is a big responsibility. You don’t want your baby out there without a father.” I tried not to think of my own husband currently behind bars. “It’d be like a rowboat with only one little oar in the water. Spinning in circles. Kids need both oars in the water to go places.”
George gazed at Laurie. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“She doesn’t know about. . you know, about my being on the streets. When I saw her at the restaurant. . Damn, she was so cute. Brad knew I had a crush on her. He helped me clean up and make an impression, you know?”
I nodded. “If you’re worried about my saying anything, don’t.”
George looked relieved. “There’s something else, Kate. On Monday, when I was going to Michelle’s to make the drop. .”
“Drop?”
George looked at me sheepishly. “I mean, you know, the money or whatever.”
Anger flared inside me, and I jumped up from the easy chair. “Whatever, what? Were you dropping off money at her house? Or something else? Or what?”
George took a step back and said firmly, “Money.”
I raised my voice. “Why? Why not deposit it straight into the bank?”
George matched my tone. “I just do what I’m told.” We studied each other a moment. He continued, “Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is that I saw someone. I saw who Michelle was with that morning. I’m scared, Kate.”
“Who?” I pressed.
“She was with my girlfriend.”
I to
ok a deep breath, hoping it would slow my galloping heart. “What?”
“My girlfriend was over there visiting Michelle.”
“Kiku?”
Kiku with the access to the Valium. Sweet, pretty, pregnant Kiku.
“You know my girlfriend?”
“What was she doing at Michelle’s place?”
“Well, she didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why are you scared? What do you think she was doing there? Did you ask her? Did you interrupt them?”
“No. I left. Because, see, that’s the thing. I don’t know what she was doing there. What could she have been doing at Michelle Avery’s place?”
“Have you asked her?”
He stared at the ground. “No.”
“Maybe we should talk to her together,” I said.
The doorbell sounded. George jumped. “Are you expecting someone?”
I opened the front door, hoping for Jim, but was greeted by the Chinese food delivery guy. I clutched the pink plastic bag and peeked inside. White steaming containers peered back at me. My mouth watered.
I closed the front door and turned to George. “You’ve got to try this. The best in town.”
I popped opened a box, pulled out a pot sticker, and handed it to him.
George sank his teeth into the pot sticker. “Pretty good,” he said through a mouthful. “Hot.”
I nodded, biting around the corners of my pot sticker, letting most of the heat steam out before popping it into my mouth. “Let’s meet up tomorrow, talk to Kiku.”
His face fell. “Can’t we do it today? I’ve been avoiding asking her all week.”
“I can’t today. I’m. . I’m waiting for Jim to come home.”
“Doesn’t he normally get home around five? We’ve got plenty of time.”
My stomach flip-flopped.
How much should I tell George?
“Sit down. Let me get us plates.”
I made my way to the kitchen and scrambled for a couple of place settings and napkins. Obviously, George didn’t know about Svetlana. Where had he been yesterday morning?
