Thoughts of who it could be flooded Clare’s mind—her mother, her agent? The one voice she wasn’t expecting to hear on the other end of the line was Laura’s.
CHAPTER FIVE
“CLARE! I’m so sorry to interrupt your signing but something has happened.”
“Laura! You sound terrible! What is it? What’s happened? Not Emma?”
“No, not Emma, thank God. It’s Dave. He was up on the roof this morning cleaning out the eavestrough and he fell off the ladder.”
“Oh, no! Is he okay?”
“He’s in surgery. A compound leg fracture.”
“God, that sounds horrible.”
“It could have been worse. The doctor says he’s a lucky man. But…but the thing is, Clare…” Laura’s voice wobbled and suddenly broke off.
Clare could hear her breathing heavily on the other end, trying to compose herself. “It’s all right, Laura. Take your time.”
“He has to be in hospital for at least a few more days and then when he comes home, he’ll be off work for a while longer. And the thing is, I just can’t manage on my own. I know I should be able to, but Emma’s still getting up at night and I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since she was born.”
Clare ignored the faint alarm bell going off in her head. Laura was calling for advice. That was all. “Well, isn’t there someone who can help out? Your parents or Dave’s?”
“Mine have already left for Florida, remember? And I hate to call them back. Dave’s mother’s in a nursing home and his older sister has her own problems.” There was a frustrated sigh. “The only friends I have here are all working, including Anne-Marie. There’s no one.” Her voice pitched in despair.
Clare’s hand tightened on the receiver. She sensed what was coming.
“Could you…I mean, this is a horrible thing to have to ask but I was wondering if you could come back and stay with me? Just for a couple of days while I try to find someone in town. You said you had a gap in your book tour, didn’t you?”
Clare closed her eyes, her imagined fear now out in the open. “Laura, I—I don’t think I’d be any help to you at all. I mean, I don’t know a thing about babies.”
“I just need someone to watch her while I go back and forth to the hospital. You know—well, I guess you don’t—but it’s so hard to pack up a baby and take her everywhere. Her schedule will be completely thrown off. Besides, I don’t know if they’d even let babies onto Dave’s ward.” She paused to catch her breath. “The other thing is, I just need another person around. I don’t know if it’s the hormones or what, but I can’t stand being alone.”
The rush of words told Clare that Laura was in no shape to take charge of the situation. “Okay, Laura. I’m finished here and I suppose I can afford a couple of days.”
“Oh, Clare, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ve been frantic here.”
Clare had a feeling that in other circumstances, her normally take-charge friend would have managed quite well. But perhaps the undercurrent of tension she’d picked up between Dave and Laura over the weekend was a sign of things not being normal in the Kingsway household. Whatever the reason, Clare knew she couldn’t refuse. She hung up the phone and stood for a long moment, thinking about the commitment she’d just made.
Rearranging her book tour wouldn’t be a problem. Her next signing wasn’t until the end of the month. Still, staying on longer in Twin Falls meant postponing following up on her recent book proposal with her editor. She’d submitted it just before leaving for Twin Falls and was looking forward to getting back to work on the project. But the note of desperation in Laura’s voice was impossible to ignore. Her friend needed her. The Dundas family had been there for Clare years ago, and now she had the opportunity to repay that debt. If she had any luck left at all—and she was starting to wonder about that—she’d be able to put in her two or three days and leave again without having to bump into Gil.
An hour and a half later, when the front door of the Kingsway home flew open at her knock, she knew luck had deserted her.
“Clare!”
“Gil. What are you doing here?”
“You heard about Dave?”
“Laura called me at the bookstore. Where I was signing,” she explained at the confusion in his face. It wasn’t only his unshaven face that added to his disheveled appearance, she was thinking. He was wearing jeans and a dark green plaid flannel shirt, tails out and unbuttoned to reveal a white T-shirt. His hair looked as though someone had been running fingers through it. Under any other circumstances, Clare might have thought there was a woman inside with him. But a sudden sharp wail from deep within the house told her the only female on the premises was baby Emma. A very unhappy baby Emma.
Clare brushed past Gil and stepped inside. “Is Laura home yet?”
“Still at the hospital. But she called a few minutes ago to say she’d be home in an hour or so.”
Thank heavens. “Did she call you to come over after it happened?”
He nodded. “I was cleaning out my dad’s garage at the time. The baby was asleep when I got here so I told Laura to go with Dave.”
Another long wail. His head jerked up, toward the stairs. “I think she’s awake now.”
“Sounds like it,” Clare said. “Maybe you should go get her.”
“Me?”
She smiled at the incredulity in his voice. “Aren’t you the baby-sitter?”
“Well, uh, isn’t that what you’re here for?” When she failed to reply, he said, “Then I’ll leave you to it,” and made for the door.
“Wait! You can’t leave yet.”
“I’ve an appointment in half an hour with a real-estate agent at my dad’s place. I was about to call and cancel, but fortunately for me, you arrived in time.”
Clare frowned. “But I don’t know anything. I mean, Laura didn’t give me any instructions about Emma.”
“She didn’t give me any, either. Only that the diapers were on the change table in her room and…and there were a couple of bottles of…uh, breast milk in the fridge.” His face flushed and his eyes flicked back to the staircase.
Clare wondered what he was looking for. Baby Emma to come down all on her own? The wails increased in volume and as one, they both moved automatically to the stairs.
“Only one of us needs to go get her,” Gil said.
He sounded a tad snappish, she thought. “Then you go and I’ll heat up the bottle of milk in the microwave.”
He seemed to like that idea until her reminder about diapers slowed his ascent. Clare hurried into the kitchen, dropped her purse and coat on a chair and opened the refrigerator. There were two small bottles of milk on a shelf. Probably left from Saturday night when the baby-sitter came. Clare wondered how long the milk would be good for. Did breast milk have a shorter expiry date than whatever other milk babies drank? She’d no idea, which confirmed once again how useless she’d be helping Laura.
Still, she couldn’t help smiling at how out of his league Gil was. The dashing big-city lawyer look had certainly taken a dive. When he showed up in the kitchen minutes later, trying to contain a squirming and teary Emma, his face had an unhealthy pallor.
“I think something must be wrong with her,” he said.
Clare gave Emma a second look. “Why?”
He merely shook his head. “I don’t see how such a cute baby could produce what…well, what she produced up there.”
Grateful she’d been on bottle duty, Clare summoned a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure it’s all perfectly normal. Anyway, she doesn’t look sick. Shall I take her while you wash up?”
“Please.” He handed Emma over before Clare had a chance to sit and vanished from the kitchen. Clare removed the bottle from the microwave and sat down, gingerly arranging Emma in the crook of her left arm. She’d remembered that much from her limited baby-sitting experience, along with the need to test the milk’s temperature. That proved to be more challenging. As soon as Emma sa
w the bottle, she started kicking her legs. While Clare was trying to sprinkle some milk onto her wrist, Emma began to wail again.
“Shh,” Clare whispered. “I’m working as fast as I can.” The milk felt warm but not hot so she lowered the nipple to Emma’s mouth and was shocked at how voraciously she latched onto it. By the time Gil reappeared, the kitchen was silent except for the occasional gurgle from the bottle and Emma’s contented sucking.
“You look like you’ve done that before,” he observed.
“Maybe once, a long time ago. I have a feeling this is the easiest part of baby-care.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. His stare was unnerving so Clare asked, “You have to be somewhere?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. I’ve an agent coming to the house with an offer on it.”
“That sounds like good news for you.”
“I hope so. I booked off a week to pack up and sell but if the offer’s too low, I may have to take a few extra days.”
Emma detached her mouth from the bottle to come up for air.
“Don’t you have to burp her or something?” Gil asked.
“I know.” She wondered where he’d picked up that bit of information. They’d both been only children and she doubted he’d ever baby-sat in his life. Clare slowly raised Emma and carefully placed her up against her left shoulder. A loud gas bubble echoed in the room and they both laughed.
“Sounds a bit like Dave working on his third beer,” quipped Gil.
“Yes. Well, with Laura as a mom I’m sure Emma will develop more ladylike habits as she grows older.”
“I bet.”
Except for Emma’s contented sounds, the room was silent. But now Clare wasn’t as uncomfortable with Gil hovering at the counter opposite the kitchen table. He was obviously in no hurry to leave, despite his appointment with the real estate agent. In fact, he seemed very content to just stare at her as she fed Emma. Feeling a need to fill the silence, she asked, “What kind of law did you say you practiced in New York?”
“Corporate. I’ve just been made an associate of the firm.” He paused, adding, “I really wanted to get into criminal law, but when I graduated I had a massive debt to pay off and the success ladder in the criminal branch looked a bit higher. Besides, I had a contact in the firm who helped me get my articling position there while I was studying for the bar.”
Emma started squirming. Clare lowered her back into the crook of her arm so she could finish the bottle. “Well, it appears you’ve done well for yourself,” she said to Gil, for want of any other comment.
“Considering the rough start I got, I think I did.”
Rough start. The slight edge in his voice hinted at the specific start he was referring to—beginning freshman year under a cloud of suspicion after Rina’s death. Clare sighed. Every conversation seemed to get back to this. It’s always going to be between us. The thought was oddly depressing. Yet why should she care, after all these years? The problem was, she did. For some inexplicable reason, she wanted him to think well of her.
He must have sensed her reaction to his comment for after a slight pause, he said, “Guess I’d better go then. Good luck with Emma. I hope for your sake Laura gets home soon.”
Clare pursed her lips. “Yeah, me, too.”
Gil hesitated a minute longer, ran a hand through his hair and said goodbye as he left the kitchen. Seconds later Clare heard the front door close behind him. She exhaled a mouthful of air, uncertain if what she was feeling was relief or disappointment that he’d left without another word.
She looked down at the baby cradled in her arms, and wondered what to do next. For the first time, she felt a new respect for Laura, wondering how she got anything done. By the time Laura arrived, almost an hour later, Clare was ready to hand the baby over and head for the hotel.
But Laura would have none of it. “I need someone here in the house,” she explained patiently, as if Clare were a teenage baby-sitter. “What if they call me to the hospital in the middle of the night?”
Clare gritted her teeth. “How likely is that? Dave’s only got a broken leg.”
“Not only, Clare. It’s a compound fracture and a nasty one. He’ll be in a cast for weeks.” Laura slumped into the sofa cushions. “I don’t know how he’s going to manage the stairs.”
“You’ll have to make up a bed in the den. At least you’ve got a downstairs bathroom.”
Laura sighed and forked her hand through her hair. “Of course. I’m not even thinking straight. See, that’s another reason why I need you! It’s only until I can get someone to come and stay.”
Clare saw the anxiety in her friend’s face and knew she had no counterargument. She’d agreed to help and now she was stuck with her decision. Later that night, after they’d ordered a pizza for dinner, fed Emma again and got her off to bed—with Clare watching to see how it was done—Clare eagerly turned back the covers in the guest room and climbed into bed. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock, but felt like midnight. First thing in the morning, she vowed, she’d start looking for help for Laura.
Morning arrived a lot sooner than she’d anticipated. Emma’s wails started just before five and were stifled as soon as Laura got up to feed her. Clare tried to go back to sleep, but even Laura’s tiptoeing around upstairs kept her awake. Finally she gave up and joined her in the kitchen.
“Coffee’s over there,” Laura said, nodding toward the counter opposite where she sat, nursing Emma.
“I thought you fed her already,” Clare said, shuffling toward the coffeemaker. “I heard her wake up about an hour ago.”
“She only nursed on one side and then fell asleep. Now she’s ready for the other side.”
Coffee mug in hand, Clare sagged into a chair opposite Laura. “I don’t know why I feel so tired when you’re the one who had to get up in the night.”
“Actually, Emma slept from eleven ’til five. That’s the longest stretch ever.”
“Six hours. I can barely function with eight.”
A ghost of a smile crossed Laura’s face. “I used to be the same but you have to make changes when a new baby comes into your life.”
There was a wistful tone in her voice that Clare couldn’t ignore. “I’ve read that relationships between husbands and wives change a lot then, too.”
“Believe it. I think that’s the biggest change—other than not going into work every day.”
“Do you miss not working?”
“I do, but not enough to want to turn Emma over to a stranger.” She sighed. “That’s a bone of contention between Dave and me. He thinks I should go back to work when my maternity leave is up because we need both salaries to knock down our mortgage.”
“And you—”
“Want to wait. Even a year. I get six months so it would only be another six months without pay. My boss is willing to give me the time.”
Clare sipped her coffee. She couldn’t think of anything to say other than the obvious. “I guess you and Dave will have to talk about it some more.”
Laura kissed Emma’s forehead while she nursed. When she raised her face back to Clare, her smile was a bit wobbly. “I guess we’ll have plenty of opportunity to do that now that he’s going to be home from work for a few weeks.” Her chin trembled. “And then I’ll have two people to look after.” Her eyes filled up.
Clare guessed what she was thinking. Who’s going to look after me? She leaned across the table to pat Laura’s forearm. “Well, I’ll be here for a couple of days and we’re going to look for someone to give you a hand. So, what’s on the agenda for today? I suppose you’ll be going to see Dave?”
“Yes. What about you?”
Clare didn’t have to think long. “I’m going to call that reporter and give him a piece of my mind.”
As soon as she’d finished tidying up the breakfast dishes for Laura, she did exactly that.
“Personally, I thought it was a great article and wonderful publicity for your book. I can’t see what you’re complaining
about,” Jeff Withers said after Clare’s opening complaint.
Clare’s hand clenched tighter around the receiver. She reminded herself that making an enemy of a reporter—even one in poky old Twin Falls—wasn’t a smart thing to do, and calmly replied.
“Of course I appreciate your warm comments about the book. The few that you made. However, I’m worried that some readers will be unable to make the distinction between my novel and a real-life murder case. Your attempt to link the two is very self-serving, Mr. Withers. I think you were more interested in selling papers than actually reviewing a book.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I happen to think there is a link between your book and Rina Thomas’s murder, Ms. Morgan. It can’t be a coincidence that you’ve made the mysterious death of your heroine’s best friend a pivotal part of your story when you yourself played a part in a real life murder here in Twin Falls.”
Blood rushed into Clare’s head while her resolve to set the record straight took a nosedive. Dry-mouthed, she said, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Withers. I had no part in the Rina Thomas case.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard. My source told me that you pointed the police in the direction of someone you were dating at the time. I forget the guy’s name. Uh, just a sec while I—”
“His name was Gil Harper and the police questioned him briefly as part of their investigation. He was released. That’s it.”
“But Rina’s killer was never found so I don’t think the story has officially ended, do you?”
Clare sighed, refusing to take the bait, “I’m sorry you were unable to differentiate between a novel and an old murder case. And even more, I’m sorry I agreed to the interview. I won’t make that mistake again. Goodbye, Mr. Withers.”
“Wait, wait. Hold on a minute. You may think I can’t tell the difference but there are some people here in town who can’t, either.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Have you heard from the manager of the bookstore where you had your signing on Saturday?”
“No. Why?”
Past, Present and a Future (Going Back) Page 7
