by Diana Orgain
“Ummm.”
“Never mind, I can tell by your hmmm and your ummm that you don’t care. So why don’t—”
“Of course, I care!”
Paula laughed. “Why don’t you get to the real purpose of your call?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m in front of Nancy Pickett’s apartment door, with a key mind you, but there’s police tape blocking it.”
“Bummer.”
“I should just leave, right? That would be the right thing to do?”
“What? Leave? You said you had a key!”
“I do.”
“Well, untape and retape, stupid.”
“But McNearny almost arrested me yesterday for breaking and entering.”
“What?”
I quickly filled Paula in on finding Armand.
“That was different, you found a dead guy and had to call him. He should have thanked you, by the way. When would they have found him if it hadn’t been for you? We know Nancy’s not in the apartment, so it’s not like you’re going to have to call him.”
“Okay.”
“Call me back and let me know what you find,” Paula said.
“Wait, before you hang up. I have a favor.”
“Shoot,” Paula said.
“See if you can find a way to get us into Calvin Rabara’s party on Friday night.”
“Ooh, now you’re talking. That’s a good distraction from the Great Wait. Where’s the party?”
“Merchants Exchange Building.”
“I’m on it. What am I going to wear?”
I laughed. “We’ll shop. I have to finish my Christmas list anyway.” I glanced down the hallway again. Still no one in sight. “I gotta go.”
I hung up, moved the police tape, and held my breath as I inserted the key into the lock. It turned smoothly and within a second I was standing inside the late Nancy Pickett’s apartment.
The interior couldn’t have contrasted more with the exterior of the building. It was brightly painted in cream and burgundy tones. The décor was sophisticated with heavy, sturdy furniture. The sofa and love seat had solid oak wood frames, giving the impression that the owner had been a no-nonsense gal. Stable, dependable, secure.
The only indication that anything was wrong was the smell. The apartment smelled musty. Like it hadn’t been aired out in a few weeks. Like no one was currently living here. Which was the case.
For some odd reason, the smell made me sad. I knew, of course, that Nancy was dead, but the scent caused by her absence affected me.
I was standing in the main living area. To the right, there was an opening to the kitchen with the counter in between the two rooms doubling as a bar/eating area. Two bar stools were pushed up against the counter.
On the left were two doorways. I crossed the room and peeked in the first. A small bedroom that Nancy had been using as an office. The second was a larger bedroom—Nancy’s room—and between them was a shared bath. From the looks of things she had obviously been living alone.
I peeked into her closet. Tailored suits in all colors of the rainbow hung neatly side by side like soldiers in a row.
What could I possibly learn by being here? That she was meticulous? Yes, that much was clear.
I took a breath and glanced around the room. It seemed impossible to find anything the police may have missed.
I walked through the bathroom into the office. There were extension cords, a monitor, and printer, but her computer was gone. On the wall there was a bulletin board. Pinned to it was a “bring a friend” coupon for Club Zen and a yoga class schedule.
I opened a drawer on her desk. My heart sank as I looked at all the pens lined up, the paperclips and staples. She was definitely organized. No hidden diary jumped out at me, no false drawer, no hidden key to the mystery. No lead period.
I looked through the rest of the desk. She had a filing cabinet dedicated to financial matters and another filled with more supplies, like blank greeting and thank-you cards.
All the juicy stories she had been working on were probably at her station desk. I closed the drawer and headed to her bookcase.
It was filled with classic novels and a few finance and journalism books.
Dejected, I walked to the kitchen. I aimlessly opened a few cabinets. No money or secret notes stuffed in a cookie jar.
I dialed Paula. “This was a waste of time.”
“You didn’t find anything?”
“No.”
“Her computer?”
“Gone.”
“No note saying, ‘If I die soon, so-and-so did it?’ ”
I refrained from smiling. “It’s not a joke.”
Paula laughed. “Sorry. How about a talking cat or something? A canary?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
Just as I closed the phone, I heard a key slip into the front door lock. My heart stopped as I watched the door open.
A man in a tan work suit with a carpenter’s belt on stood in front of the door. He clasped his hand to his chest as he saw me standing in the kitchen.
“Whoa! Sorry! I didn’t knock. I didn’t think . . .”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I . . . I’m . . .”
What was I supposed to say? “I’m not supposed to be here. I’m trespassing. Clearly I crossed the police tape” . . . Wait a minute—so had he.
“You a friend of Nancy?” he asked without waiting for an answer. “I’m Carl, the building super. I got a call from the police today, telling me it was okay to remove the tape. You got the same call?”
Better not to answer.
“I’m a private investigator. I was hired by Nancy’s ex-husband . . .”
Carl’s eyes widened and he stroked his mustache. “Oh. Yeah. Sad about Nancy. She was really great.”
“Did you know her well?”
Carl worked his mouth in a little circle. “I felt like I did, because I watched her every night on the news, you know. But no, not well. She lived here a long time though. Since her divorce a few years back. She was friendly and—” He shrugged his shoulders. “—just genuinely a nice person.”
“Did you ever meet her current boyfriend?”
Carl smiled. “Ramon? Sure. Great guy. He must be very upset.”
I sighed and on an impulse asked, “What do you think happened to Nancy, Carl? Random act of violence—”
“No!” His passion surprised me. “She was obviously targeted. I’d just changed the lock on this apartment.” He looked at me puzzled. “Someone broke in here.” He gestured to the office. “Stole her computer.”
My breath caught. “Her place was broken into? When?”
He shrugged. “Week before last. I think it was a Wednesday. Yeah, Wednesday, because I had to call a locksmith that night and the missus got upset. It’s her knitting class night, and I couldn’t watch the grandkids so she had to stay home,” Carl said.
I got the chills.
Wednesday, the day of my hit-and-run. The same day I saw Nancy and Kimberly.
Why hadn’t Ramon mentioned a break-in? He must have known. How else would he have the new key?
“Any idea who it was?” I asked.
Carl shook his head. “She reported it to the police. I don’t know if they have any leads.”
My phone buzzed. I glanced at the text message display.
L & I miss u. When r u coming hm? L is hungry.
Formula?
Ah! I had to get home soon or Jim would give Laurie formula and I’d be stuck bonding with the breast pump instead of my petunia!
“Thanks, Carl. You’ve been a great help.” I handed him my card. “If you can think of anything that might help us find out what happened to Nancy, please call me.”
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN •
To Do:
1. Get Santa photo taken.
2. Mail Christmas cards.
4. Christmas shopping and recipes. (Need baskets to fill.)
5. Buy NEW car!
6. ✓
7.
✓
8. Interview Nancy’s dad and brother.
9. Talk to Nancy’s boss (Karen Nolan).
10. Shop for supervisor party!!! Crash party.
11. Meditate.
The following morning, I reviewed my ever-growing to-do list while I nursed Laurie. The good thing about adjusting to breastfeeding was that I could actually do other things now while feeding Laurie. Something I could have never dreamed about the first few weeks postpartum. But now a few months later, breastfeeding seemed so easy I wondered what had been so difficult about it the first month.
And it had been difficult. I was so stressed out about it all: about whether or not she was getting enough milk, if we were doing the “latch” thing right, if we were on schedule. I don’t know how I managed to stay with it.
Now, I combed her hair with my fingers and whispered to her, “You and I are going to solve this thing out, right, little monkey?”
She blinked up at me and kicked her feet. I grabbed a foot and tugged at her leg. She reached up for my face and tangled her hand in my necklace instead.
I picked up the phone and dialed Galigani. I got his voice mail and left a brief message wondering if he was still upset about yesterday. I’d received a return call from Nancy’s brother and dialed him back, only to leave a message. I subsequently ran through a string of calls to Nancy’s boss, and then the people who’d found her body. I left messages and hung up, frustrated.
Honestly, why couldn’t anyone ever pick up their phones?
Caller ID was great in some instances, but now I felt like everyone was screening my calls and deciding not to answer an unknown number.
I burped Laurie then propped her up with some pillows. She goggled at me, delighted to be sitting up on her own. I smiled at her, marveling how much she had developed in the last month. Suddenly, she pitched her head forward and collapsed abruptly out of her seated position.
She let out a pitiful complaining wail, which I took as admonishment for trying anything new with her. I picked her up and took her to our nursery/office and set her down in the crib. Jim was hunched over the printer swearing.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He tugged at a sheet of paper. “Printer jam.”
I flipped the release at the back of the printer.
“I tried that,” Jim said.
I pulled at the paper, tearing it. It was even harder to remove when all that was left was a stub. “Downside to home office,” I said.
Jim laughed. “Yeah we can’t call the maintenance department.”
“This is the third time it’s jammed this week. I hate to break the news to you, honey, but I think it’s time for a new printer,” I said.
Jim nodded solemnly as if I was suggesting the execution of a dear friend. “Want to go to Office Depot?”
“Office Depot! No. I want to go Christmas shopping.”
Jim laughed. “You can buy me a new printer for Christmas.”
“I want to go to Union Square, but I want to see the tree and Christmas decorations, not reams of paper and office supplies,” I whined.
Laurie kicked her legs at the mention of Union Square as though she knew she’d be in for a treat. I tried to use it to my advantage. “Even the baby wants to go Christmas shopping.”
Jim plucked Laurie out of the crib and raised her high in the air. “Monkey! Don’t you know what fun buying office equipment is?”
Laurie’s little face scrunched up, her lips formed a circle but no sound escaped for a moment. Jim and I stared at her as if she had been stuck in a freeze-frame. Finally, a pitiful and somewhat staccato wail escaped her mouth.
I laughed. “Bug! What is it?”
“Obviously, she wants to go Christmas shopping with you and not office-supply shopping with me.”
She let out a series of little breaths as though she were ready to hyperventilate. I took her from Jim and pressed her to my chest. “I know, peanut. I feel the same way.”
I stashed her in her crib and said over my shoulder to Jim, “I’m going to shower and get ready for Union Square. You are free to join us. And if you want to peel off and go to the—” I wrinkled my nose. “—office place, that’s fine.”
Jim laughed. “Okay. We’ll do it. Family day at Union Square. You guys can buy ice cream, chocolates, and shoes or whatever. I’ll get a new printer.”
“Great because I need a dress for Calvin Rabara’s party.”
Jim frowned. “Calvin Rabara? The supervisor?”
I nodded.
“How did we get invited to that? I didn’t know we were going.”
I pointed to him and me. “We’re not. Unless, I mean, you want to go. I was going to crash it with Paula because—”
Jim held out his hand. “I don’t need to know. Do I need to know?”
I laughed. “Not really.” I headed down the hall as the phone rang. “Can you get it?” I said, over my shoulder. “Otherwise, we’ll never leave.”
“You’re just avoiding your mom,” he said.
I grimaced to myself, knowing he was probably right.
I ran the water before stepping into the shower, not only waiting for the hot water, but also trying to overhear the conversation Jim was having. I couldn’t make out who he was speaking to, only that it was a hurried conversation and then silence.
I stepped into the shower and tried to let the water put some sort of inspiration into my head. Union Square was a few blocks from the consulate. Should I pop over there and see . . . what? What was I hoping to see? Something suspicious?
I could visit Armand’s downstairs neighbors—maybe they had seen something or heard something on Sunday night. After all, his apartment had been broken into. What did that have to do with Nancy? Anything?
When it was clear that the shower was not going to provide an aha moment, I turned the water off and stepped out.
I toweled off and retreated to my bedroom. I pulled a cardigan off a hanger and proceeded to ready myself for the outing. After a few minutes, Jim came into the bedroom holding Laurie.
He’d put her in a red wooly footed outfit that had a picture of a snowman on the front.
“Awww. She’s so cute,” I said. “Even in that hideous outfit!”
Jim laughed. “You don’t like it?”
I smiled. “I wanted to take a Santa photo today.” I scanned my closet for something warm. “Where did it come from?”
Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you got it for her. It was in her drawer and it looked cozy.” He hugged Laurie protectively. “I don’t want her to catch a chill. Where’s her hat?”
“Jim, we live in San Francisco, not Nebraska.”
“Just because you refuse to wear hats doesn’t mean Laurie shouldn’t wear one.”
“Um hmm,” I replied from deep in the closet. I didn’t bother to tell him that I didn’t refuse to wear hats, I just never seemed to remember them.
“Dress warm, honey, and wear good walking shoes.”
I nodded. “Who called?”
“Paula. She’s joining us.”
Jim, Laurie, and I rode the streetcar to Powell Street. We walked to Union Square and waited for Paula by the Christmas tree. She emerged from the underground tunnel and waddled over to us, one hand on her belly and the other swinging furiously to give her walking some momentum.
“Laurie’s so cute! But what’s she wearing?” she asked.
“It mysteriously appeared in one of her drawers. I suspect the crazy grandmother,” I said.
Paula squatted next to the stroller and stroked Laurie’s check. Laurie was sound asleep, no doubt from being bundled so warmly. “Don’t worry, honey. Auntie Paula will be in charge of wardrobe decisions today. I’m gonna buy you a stupendous getup!”
Jim kissed me. “I’ll leave you all to it then. Should we meet back here in, say, two hours?” He glanced at his watch. “We can get lunch together.”
Paula patted him. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure we’re not late.”
> Jim nodded and headed toward Office Depot on 3rd Street. Paula, Laurie, and I drooled over the dresses in the Dior windows.
Paula said, “Let’s go to Nordstrom, I can’t fit into anything here.”
I laughed. “Well, I probably can’t either, and if by some miracle I do—the price tag is—”
“Prohibitive. Tell me about it.” Paula sighed.
She pushed Laurie’s stroller.
“I got it,” I said, trying to pull the handles away from her.
She gripped the handles. “Stop it. I need to lean.”
We laughed.
“If you need to rest, just say so,” I said, pushing open the door to the San Francisco Centre for her and Laurie.
She nodded. “How about a cup of coffee and sitting under the dome?”
I desperately needed to make the most of my time here, grab a dress suitable for the supervisor’s party, and purchase as many Christmas gifts as I could possibly carry, but I smiled despite myself.
The dome was the 102-foot-wide historic “Emporium” dome that had recently turned one hundred years old. Grabbing a cup of coffee, sitting under the huge skylight, and people watching was a favorite pastime for Paula and me.
I nodded. “Of course.”
We ordered two cups of decaf and took our steaming mugs to a table.
Paula propped her swollen feet on the empty chair opposite her. “I shouldn’t have come shopping with you. I’m slowing you down. Sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t mind sitting down awhile,” I said.
“I just had to get out of the house. David’s mom came to watch Danny and I needed a break.”
As soon as I took my seat, I surveyed the crowd. I saw a tall man with curly hair scamper away. He seemed familiar. I jolted up and said to Paula, “Stay here with Laurie.”
I followed the man, who was now moving so quickly away from me that he was getting annoyed looks from the crowd as he bumped shopping bags aside.
