Mission

by Camilla Chafer

  "What are they all so excited about?" I asked, nodding to the crowd of expensively clad women in a striking array of colored, two-piece yogawear. They were methodically forming a semi-circle with their backs to us. Even their babies seemed to chatter away animatedly.

  "Please don't eat Mommy's hair," Lily chastised her gently before stopping Poppy from grabbing one of her blond curls. "There's a dad in this class," she added.

  "What's so exciting about that?"

  "That's what I said!"

  "Is he hot?" I wondered.

  "Not one bit but he does have an impressive hipster beard. They're acting like he's the latest gift from the universe because he's a stay-at-home dad, even though the majority of them are stay-at-home moms. They do the same thing he does without any beards although please don't mention that to Alicia; she's very sensitive about her facial hair."

  "I still don't understand the excitement factor."

  "Me neither. Their husbands must be totally useless if they think a guy paying attention to his own kid is exciting. Except for Janet."

  "Is her husband wonderful?" I asked.

  "No. Her wife travels a lot. She thinks all guys are sweet but pointless. Please don't get her started or she’ll gnaw your ear off with her exclusive, controversial views on sexless procreation."

  "Noted." The yoga crowd parted when the doors opened and several elderly people came out. They headed en masse down the sidewalk to the coffee shop at the end of the strip. One of the elderly ladies inadvertently stomped on one of the yoga mom's feet and the mom yelled angrily after her.

  "There's a lot of rivalry between classes," said Lily. "We should leave five minutes early since the class after ours can be particularly violent."

  "This is yoga, Lily! We're supposed to leave here with zen in our bloodstreams, feeling joyous and a lot more bendy."

  "You'd think," snorted Lily, taking off for the class as the crowd made their way inside. I hurried after her. Lily brought her own yoga mat, which she rolled out while fiercely guarding a space for me next to her. I grabbed a mat from the pile by the door. As we sat, Poppy started bouncing in Lily's lap, and the instructor strolled in. Her slender, muscular body was neatly encased in pink leggings and a matching pink crop top that contrasted stunningly with her black skin. "She has four kids," whispered Lily as I looked down at my own body and then at the instructor's again. Why didn't I look like that? Then I glanced at Lily, who was positively glowing in her black leggings and blue top, her bouncy, blond curls pulled back into a ponytail. Why didn't I look like her either? Was it the jelly donut? That had to be the culprit! "She's been practicing yoga for fifteen years but she's not allowed to do headstands in class anymore," Lily continued.

  "Why not?"

  "The babies got really excited and swarmed her. Now none of us are allowed to in case we fall over and squash one."

  "To think I was so looking forward to perfecting my headstand," I said, checking out my biceps. They could do with some more work too.

  "You look fine," said Lily.

  "I feel so unfit!" I whispered. "Everyone here looks fitter than me. I haven't even had a baby. What's my excuse?"

  "You don't exercise nearly as much as you did when you were miserable," said Lily. "And single."

  I glanced around at the tight bodies and their delighted babies. "Is everyone here miserable?" I asked.

  "No one here has slept in at least six months and we're all powered by caffeine and Instagram envy."

  "Let's begin," said the instructor, her voice soft and dreamy. "Please stand, everyone, and connect to the earth through all four corners of your feet. Let's put our babies at one with us!"

  We spent twenty minutes in semi-silence, moving through the poses while the babies chuckled and giggled. Some were occasionally excused for diaper changes. When we moved onto our backs, we were encouraged to tuck our heels in as we lifted to become a “bridge.” Poppy crawled clumsily towards me and tapped me on the head. I blew kisses at her while she wobbled into a sitting position and stuck her fist in her mouth, chewing gummily as she watched me. "Isn't she supposed to do this too?" I whispered to Lily.

  Lily lifted her hips. "Yeah," she huffed. "One day."

  I rolled my head to the other side when something bumped into my shoulder. A baby barely a few months older than Poppy clambered onto me and sneezed in my face.

  "Sorry," said the baby's mom, lifting it off me.

  "That's so cute," whispered Lily as I turned back.

  "It sneezed right in my face," I said in barely concealed horror.

  "Adorable," said Lily.

  "Would you call it adorable if it were thirty-five?" I whispered furiously.

  "No, I'd kick it in the..."

  "And down," said the instructor. "Feel the love in your glutes!"

  Lily raised her eyebrows at me and I giggled.

  "And now, table top position. Encourage your darlings to join in this magical journey."

  We moved onto all fours and Poppy wobbled under me. I blew kisses at her and pulled faces while the instructor directed us through different positions. Finally, when the class was over, I picked up Poppy and snuggled my face into the crook of her neck.

  "Who's broody?" asked Lily when I refused to hand over her baby.

  "Maybe a little," I admitted. Poppy was soft and cuddly and she smelled so nice in her little, blue dress and white leggings. She was way beyond adorable. I wasn't so sure about the sneezy baby however.

  The woman in front of me turned around. "I can recommend some great..." she started to say.

  "Thanks, Janet!" said Lily. "We've already got that covered."

  "It's so nice that you're sharing the baby-bearing burden," said Janet, beaming at me before she turned away.

  Lily rolled her eyes. "Jord and I are thinking about having another baby," she said. "We're only planning to have two so it makes sense to have them close together. Oh! Oh!" She flapped her hands, her face looking excited.

  "What? Is it your pelvic girdle?" I asked in alarm as Lily dropped to the floor and rolled up her mat, tucking it into a bag and slinging it, as well as Poppy's diaper bag, over her shoulder.

  "No! I just had the best thought!" she said, springing upright and pushing her feet into sneakers. "Why don't we conceive our babies together!? It would be so exciting and fun! We could time it just right and have them at the same time and experience the whole process together."

  "You've mentioned that before." I thought about it. "That would be kind of nice. Our babies could be best friends," I added. I followed Lily to the door and deposited my mat on the pile before looking around for any kind of sanitizer I could use on my face, but there wasn't any.

  "We should go through our diaries and pick a date. We should set up a WhatsApp group: you and Solomon and Jord and me... we could work out the best dates to conceive our babies!"

  I thought about that and had the strangest sense of déjà vu. I was sure I must’ve shot similar ideas before. "Ew!" I spat distastefully. "Jord is my brother! I don’t want to discuss that stuff with him."

  "I don't mean all the gory details! Maybe we should just all go away together, relax, see what happens…"

  The idea of attempting to conceive a baby within a few feet of my brother and my best friend doing the same thing sounded horrific. Maybe even bad enough to register for one of my mother's classes. "I think that's the most off-putting thing you've ever said to me," I told her. I held open the door and we filed out, leaving the mommy group to crowd the instructor with questions about yoga poses that didn't sound real.

  "Do you think your mom would want to join us? Should I ask her?" asked Lily.

  Scratch that. That was definitely horrific. "Yes, she would want to join us, and you must never, ever ask her," I warned her sternly as I restrained the urge to vomit.

  Lily pulled a face. "I meant the WhatsApp group!"

  Fortunately, I was spared the next horrendous idea Lily had when my phone started ringing. My sister-in-law's
name flashed on the screen. Alice was delightful and one hundred percent sane, which was more than I could say for Lily at this moment. "I have to get this," I said, kissing Poppy's cheek first, then Lily's. "Love you both."

  "See you soon! Poppy, say 'bye!'"

  "M-m-m," said Poppy as she waved.

  "Bye, Poppy! Hi, Alice," I said into the phone as I headed to my car, waving again when Poppy fluttered her chubby hand.

  "Lexi, hi! I'm so glad you answered. Do you have a moment?"

  "Sure!"

  "I've come across something strange and I was hoping you could look into it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I was speaking to the husband of one of my patients today. He was terribly upset about his wife's condition before he started to spill the strangest story, saying he thinks someone tried to murder her. Could you come by the hospital? Maybe just to talk to him? If nothing else, you might set his mind at rest. I just hate to see him so agitated."

  I glanced at my watch. I had nothing else to do and Alice wouldn't have called if she weren't seriously worried. She was one of the best nurses I knew.

  "Sure," I replied, "on my way."

  Chapter Two

  Alice might have been the sanest member of my extended family. She was pretty, athletic, dedicated to her job and she loved my middle brother, Daniel. They were raising two great kids. Currently working in the intensive care unit at Montgomery General, she said it was a nice change of pace from the ER since the patients were usually immobilized and quite often, unconscious too.

  I found her seated alone at the nurse's station, sipping a coffee. She smiled as I approached her and stood, reaching over the divide to hug me. "Thank you so much for coming," she said. "I really couldn't think of anyone else to call."

  "No problem at all," I assured her. "I'm not busy today and besides, it's not often you ask for my help. What can I do?"

  "I'm not sure but perhaps you could speak to my patient's husband and try to give him some professional reassurance? If he's wrong about what he suspects, he might appreciate it. If he's right, he might need more serious help."

  "You said he thought someone tried to kill his wife?"

  Alice nodded. She set down the coffee, walked around the nurse's station and inclined her chin, indicating for me to follow her to the end of the corridor. "See the corner room? That's Sophie Takahashi. EMTs brought her into the ER a week ago after sustaining what I'm told was a nasty fall at her home. Apparently, they're in the process of renovating and Mrs. Takahashi took a tumble, crashing through the banister in the upstairs hallway and landing in a terribly bad position."

  I winced. "Have you asked her if that's what really happened?"

  "We can't. She hasn't regained consciousness. Her husband, Austen, says he fears she might have been targeted and attacked."

  "Why haven't the police been notified?"

  Alice shrugged. "After Mr. Takahashi — Austen — told me that earlier, I tracked down the EMTs who brought her in. They said they didn't see any signs of an attack, although they admitted they weren't looking for any clues. Their only concern was providing emergency treatment and getting her to the hospital as soon as possible but you can ask them yourself. I saw them earlier so I know they’re around. They did notice a broken section of the banister, which supports the accident theory. Austen said he took more time to think about it since that day, trying to clear up any discrepancies. They were right in the middle of the renovation, but no one was actually working on the balustrade, not just yet. Austen claims it wasn't loose or faulty and he can't think of any possible way she could have fallen through it."

  "Who found her?" I asked.

  "One of the guys on their work crew. He called 911. I don't know anymore than that."

  "What's her prognosis?" I asked.

  "I can't divulge too much because you're not a family member but I can tell you, right now, her odds of survival are fifty-fifty."

  I looked inside the room where I could just see the end of the hospital bed and the outline of legs under the sheet. "You mean there's a chance she might not ever wake up?"

  Alice nodded. "I'm afraid so. Now that he's had a few days to calm down and think about it more clearly, I fear that knowledge is what got Austen so riled up. He's right. If someone deliberately did this to her and she dies, it's an act of first degree murder."

  "And what if she never wakes up but she also doesn't die?" I wondered.

  "I'm not sure about the legal implications but somehow, it seems even worse to me. A living death."

  "Can I talk to the husband?"

  "Sure. He's in there, expecting you."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "Not much. Only that you're a private investigator and a good person to talk to about proving his suspicions. I think he just wants to hear he isn't really crazy."

  "Why didn't you suggest he call the police?"

  "He did. He called them a couple of days ago and they sent a unit to his house. After a cursory look around, they said they were sorry she fell but that's all it looked like. I think they also suggested installing a few safety improvements around the house during the renovation and that was it."

  "I'll talk to him," I said. "I have to admit, if the police already concluded it was an accident and the EMTs concurred, it might just be that. A tragic, horrible accident."

  "I hope so, but I'm sure he'll appreciate an independent opinion from someone familiar with murder investigations. Come and see me before you go?"

  I promised I would before Alice opened the room's door and ushered me inside, announcing me softly as I stepped past her. A much younger woman than I envisaged lay on the bed, unmoving except for the soft rise and fall of her chest. Various wires connected her to complicated machines that ticked and beeped. Her blond hair was plaited neatly over one shoulder and I wondered who did it. Perhaps the same person who applied the fresh bandages around her head.

  The man seated at her bedside looked tired and worn. The dark circles under his eyes indicated he hadn't slept properly in days and his black hair was lank and unruly. He was dressed in a good quality navy blue sweater and jeans but I wondered if he realized he put on mismatched shoes. He caught me looking at them and gave me a wan smile. "I only noticed my error an hour ago," he said, glancing up again as he stood, extending his hand. "I've been here since six. Austen Takahashi."

  "Under the circumstances, I think you get a pass," I said, reaching to shake his hand. His shoe error made me feel better about meeting a prospective client in my yoga-wear. "Lexi Graves. I'm sorry to meet you in this awful situation. How's your wife?"

  "They said she has brain activity and she's stable. So there's still hope. Let me get you a chair." He moved towards me but I waved him back into his own seat and he slumped gratefully, picking up his wife's hand.

  I lifted the chair and moved it to the foot of the bed where I could talk to him more easily. "Alice told me you think this might not have been an accident," I said.

  "I don't just think it; I know it," he said with conviction. He stroked his wife's hand with his thumb and sighed. "Sophie was enjoying the renovation and all the different kinds of work it entailed. She was keenly interested in interior design and thought it might be a fun career, so she called it good work experience. But I know she wouldn't have started unscrewing the banisters by herself. It just doesn't make any sense."

  "Alice told me the EMTs found a broken section of the banister at the scene that could have been consistent with her fall."

  Austen nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean it wasn’t planted there."

  "Do you think that's what really happened?"

  He paused, breathing in and out audibly, and watching Sophie as he thought. "Yes," he said, tearing his gaze away. "I think Sophie was pushed over the rail and someone planted that banister underneath her. I just can't work out why. She was... she is so lovely. Everyone likes her. She's kind. She's a good person." His eyes dropped to the floor and I wondered what he wasn’t t
elling me. There was something else; I was sure of that.

  "I'd like to hear more about her, but first, can you tell me exactly what evidence you have to support your suspicion that her fall wasn't an accident?"

  "I've been thinking a lot about this and even found some compelling evidence. I didn't know Sophie was taken to the hospital until a half hour after I got home that day. I switch my phone off while driving so I didn't get the calls from my foreman. As soon as I entered the house, I could see something happened and immediately concluded someone must have fallen down the stairs."

  "What gave you that impression?"

  “I saw the banister section on the floor, and I started to go upstairs to see what happened. I noticed some spots of blood on the stairs, on the surfaces and the risers. I switched my phone back on and all the missed calls and text messages came in. That was when I realized it was Sophie who got hurt. I jumped straight back into my car and drove to the hospital. Thankfully, Manny stayed with her."

  "Manny?"

  "Manny Ortega, my foreman. He was the one who found her."

  "I see. Please continue."

  "I stayed all night at the hospital and then, in the morning, when my wife was pronounced stable, I went home to change before coming straight back. I was so worried it took me a couple of days to think clearly again. Later, I remembered those blood drops and wondered how come I saw them on the stairs if she went through the banister, landing directly on the floor? That didn't make any sense. I thought I might have imagined it so I went back to check and you know what I found?"

  "Dried blood?"

  Austen shook his head, frowning. "Nothing. No blood drops at all. I thought that's it, I must’ve imagined it. I must have been that distressed. But I know I saw the drops of blood before I was told what happened. I still couldn't imagine why Sophie would lean against the banister or work on it like everyone assumed she did, so I went upstairs and examined it more closely. Ms. Graves, the banister wasn't snapped off like she leaned against it before it collapsed. The panel was purposely unscrewed! I tried to unscrew another panel and another, but it was almost impossible to turn. No way is Sophie strong enough to unscrew any of them!"