Bye, Bye Blackbird: A Blackbird Sisters Novella (The Blackbird Sisters Mysteries Book 12)

by Nancy Martin

  “Yeah, tonight’s the night. You here with the Starr woman?”

  “Yes. There’s a SWAT situation over in Bedminster, so all the hotshots are up there getting in on the action. Which left me the only one available for baby duty. Somebody owes me one.”

  The doctor put out her hand. “I’m Rachel Stengler, Nora’s doctor. And I’m taking care of Ms. Starr, too. Are you the officer assigned to protect her?”

  “That’s one way of putting it, I guess. My name’s Ricci.”

  Dr. Stengler was a strong woman with a powerful aura that she didn’t hesitate to use. “Well, Officer Ricci, perhaps you’ll be so kind as to unlock her shackles. A woman shouldn’t be chained to the bed while giving birth.”

  “We don’t want her escaping, ma’am.”

  “Doctor,” she corrected frostily. “And it’s my professional opinion that no woman is going to finish delivering a baby and immediately make a break for freedom. We’re not in the business of torturing our patients, and that’s exactly what’s happening. I want her freed immediately.”

  “Doctor, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania—”

  “Have you ever given birth, Mr. Ricci?”

  “I’ve been present when my wife—”

  That Man of Nora’s intervened. “Oh, come on, Ricci. Zephyr’s not going anywhere but straight back to her cell after tonight. Give her a break.”

  The state trooper launched into some claptrap explanation of why Zephyr needed to be hog-tied into immobility.

  Libby felt her blood begin to boil. Maybe because she held a sleeping child in her arms, she was feeling strange emotional stirrings she couldn’t quite identify. But listening to the three of them argue, she realized they were discussing the circumstances of the birth of her son’s child. And although she was far, far too young to be a grandmother, it was after all a child spawned directly from her own blood. A sensitive child who might be scarred forever by a traumatic entry into the world.

  So she whipped out her cell phone.

  She said, “I think I’d like to see Mrs. Starr right now. After all, my son is the father of her child. He’d like a picture. Of course, video of her current predicament might shock him. It might even go viral all over social media.” She thumbed the camera function on her phone and pointed it at the state trooper. “No wanker is going to stop me, either.”

  “All right, all right.” Ricci had flushed dark. He put up one hand in front of his face to stop her from taking his photo. “I’ll unlock the shackles. Put that damn thing away, will you?”

  Ricci and Doctor Stengler went marching into one of the rooms, and That Man of Nora’s turned to Libby with a grin. “Nice going.”

  “Thank you. Although I totally disapprove of what That Awful Woman did to Rawlins, I’m hardly made of stone when it comes to the plights of the fairer sex.”

  “Me, too.”

  That Man of Nora’s was very tall and, although not handsome, there was a certain animal force about him that—if Libby were honest with herself—was rather enticing. Fleetingly, she wondered if her newly widowed status must have plunged her into a state of heightened sexual awareness.

  She regained control of herself and cleared her throat. “Rawlins appreciates what you’re doing for him. For us. For That Woman Who Seduced Him. Their baby has had an unfortunate conception, but I am confident that Nora and … and you will be very nurturing parents.”

  “Thanks,” he said, looking amused again. “You’ve been pretty great, too. Thanks for looking after Noah for us tonight.”

  Libby glanced down at the baby in her arms. “Well, we haven’t made it home yet, obviously, but we’re ready now. He is certainly no trouble. If Emma didn’t have the courage to raise him herself, I’m very glad the two of you are … are taking charge of his early years. He’s at a crucial developmental stage, and you seem to be meeting his needs admirably.”

  “We’ve learned a lot from you and your kids.”

  Libby couldn’t stop a smile and found herself fingering a strand of her hair. “That’s very nice of you to say. Sometimes a single mother like myself feels as if I’m groping in the dark, struggling to provide for my children emotionally and creatively, but it’s good to hear my efforts are not unappreciated—”

  “Yeah,” he said, edging away. “You mind if I check in with Zephyr? Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Do you think she’s changed her mind?” Libby demanded, suddenly full of fear. What if That Awful Woman might try to keep her baby? Was it possible for an infant to be held in prison? Trapped behind bars like an animal, never to see the sky? Or maybe she would insist that Rawlins raise the child himself, in which case jeopardizing a trip to visit him in England where she might meet an attractive lord of the manor?

  “I doubt she changed her mind,” That Man said. “But … Look, I’ll report back.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take Noah home now. But I’ll make jolly good time coming back, I promise.”

  “Take your time.” He disappeared into the delivery room.

  Libby had no desire to see That Woman Who Seduced Rawlins, so she took the elevator to the lobby, where various men in security uniforms were standing around looking grave. She ignored them and went outside into the night air. Using the key fob, she managed to locate the gigantic vehicle That Man of Nora’s was driving these days. It was the size of a tank, and the doors weighed a ton. Nora had said it was built for the governor, who ordered a bullet-proof luxury vehicle but balked when the price tag was too high. That Man managed to get it at a discount, but it must cost a fortune. Libby struggled to climb into the back seat, but Noah didn’t wake as she strapped him into his car seat. Within a few minutes, she was adjusting the driver’s seat to fit herself, and the engine started with a roar.

  “I feel like Mad Max on my way to the Thunderdome up here,” she murmured to herself. She backed up and bumped into a sign poorly situated behind her.

  “Oops.”

  It was a bit like driving a tanker truck, she decided, taking it for a short, experimental spin around the parking lot before venturing out onto the highway. But she rather liked sitting up high and taking command of the road. Leaving the hospital behind, she noticed a set of headlights swing into her rearview mirror. Nothing unusual. Passing under a streetlight, she noticed the car was silver. So unimaginative, silver. Why buy a silver car when you could buy a red one?

  Libby fiddled with the radio and found it set to a rock and roll station. She hummed along for a while, only half paying attention to her surroundings, but making an effort to concentrate on driving such a large and unusual vehicle. Twice she accidentally wandered off the road onto the berm, but she yanked the wheel back both times. Her thoughts might have also wandered off—to the childbirth orgasm. And then to her quest for a potential new beau. He had to be good-looking enough to accompany to nice restaurants, and a man who had an appreciation for fine jewelry—always a plus. But if she had to admit an ugly truth, she had reached an age where it was hard to find acceptable boyfriend material.

  Halfway home, she noticed the headlights were still behind her. And when she sped up, they kept pace with her. When she reached a passing zone, she tried slowing down to allow the other driver to get past her. But he didn’t try.

  So it was with great relief when Libby pulled into the drive to Starr’s Landing. Except she mis-judged the turn and bumped her own mailbox.

  “Oops.”

  The automatic security light over the mailbox popped on. Too late, she spotted a police car sitting beside her security gate. Involuntarily, her foot found the brake. She had forgotten she wanted to avoid the local gendarmes. But it was better to be safe than followed, so she pulled up behind the police car and with some difficulty managed to climb down out of the Escalade. She left the engine running and Noah sound asleep in the back seat.

  She marched directly to the driver’s side door of the cruiser and rapped on the steamed-up window. Inside, th
e officer on duty yelped. A second later, he leaped out of the car and stood in front of Libby in what was clearly a sweat of anxiety.

  Libby recognized him. “Deputy Foley! What are you doing?”

  “Doing? Nothing! Just about to leave. They called off the investigation of you, so I …I didn’t see you pull up!”

  “Why ever not?” Libby asked tartly. “I’m practically driving a tractor trailer. What has you so occupied that you didn’t notice—”

  The other door opened, and who should tentatively climb out of the police cruiser passenger side but Ingrid, the au pair? She was holding a plate of cookies, and it didn’t take a tenth of Libby’s finely-honed motherly instinct to see that the girl was completely ashamed of herself.

  In a heartbeat, Libby understood the situation. The very police officer with whom Libby had enjoyed a short but intense flirtation less than a year ago was entertaining the Swedish girl in the privacy of his police car! And the au pair with whom she entrusted the fruit of her very loins was reciprocating!

  Tartly, Libby said, “This is hardly a good use of my taxpayer dollars, is it?”

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” the young officer began. “The young lady was just—”

  “The children are safe,” Ingrid said quickly. “They’re waiting on the porch, see?”

  A quick glance up at the house assured Libby that Lucy and Max were indeed perfectly safe. They appeared to be eating Popsicles, and they waved merrily at Libby. Lucy was wearing her Batman outfit, and Max had a tiara crookedly balanced on his head. The twins were no doubt occupied with one of their grim experiments but probably in more no danger than usual.

  “The children are safe,” Ingrid insisted. “I came to make sure the policeman is welcome. You always want the gentlemen to be welcome, Miss Libby?”

  “She was only being friendly,” Foley agreed. “No monkey business.”

  “Monkey business!” Ingrid cried. “Certainly no monkeys!”

  Swiftly, Foley said, “I didn’t mean anything impolite, Ingrid. Just—”

  “I’m a good girl,” Ingrid declared.

  “I know, I know.” Foley was flustered. “And I’m a good boy.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Libby was prepared to give both Ingrid and Deputy Foley a severe dressing down, but at that moment, the silver car that had followed her all the way from the hospital made the turn into the drive. Its headlights swept over the Escalade, but the police cruiser must have been hidden from view.

  Libby marched out in front of the arriving car and put her hand out as if stopping traffic. The car obeyed, and a second later,a male figure climbed out from the driver’s side holding a garden hose nozzle in one hand. All right, Libby might have had her wires crossed just a bit—seeing Deputy Foley in a compromised position and all—so maybe she was wrong. But on seeing Libby, he faltered and pocketed the nozzle. He put one hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of assorted lights and squinted in Libby’s direction. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Where’s Mick?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He gestured at the Escalade. “Mick. This is his car. He wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital.”

  “Well, of course not. He’s having a baby!”

  “Who are you?”

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  At last realizing he’d made a mistake, he said, “Nobody. Forget it, lady. Just … never mind.”

  The man scrambled back into the silver car and slammed the door. In another second, he was backing up, spraying gravel.

  Deputy Foley came out into the driveway and stood beside Libby as the departing car made a hasty K-turn and disappeared into the night. “Hey,” he said. “Who was that in the Toyota?”

  “I have no clue,” Libby snapped. “Maybe some kind of salesman from the hardware store. Why he thought I might want a nozzle for my garden hose at this time of night, I have no idea.”

  “Nozzle?”

  “He pointed it right at me!”

  With more interest than before, Foley continued to watch the sedan pull off into the darkness. “Isn’t that one of Abruzzo’s guys? One of the guys he fired a few weeks back?”

  “How do you know who he is?”

  “We’re the police.” Foley shrugged. “We keep track of these things. I think that was Patsy Nicolazzi.”

  “Of course it wasn’t a Patsy. He was a man, not a woman.”

  “Patrizio,” Foley corrected. “They call him Patsy. He works for one of the Pescaras, Abruzzo cousins. And I betcha he wasn’t pointing a garden hose at you.”

  “What do you mean? You think … oh, good lord!” Libby clapped one hand to her bosom. Clearly, she was out of her mind with concern for Nora, not to mention the shock of finding her nanny with a red-blooded young policeman. She gasped. “It was a gun! It never occurred to me he was pointing a gun—!”

  Libby instantly found herself in Foley’s arms, cradled against his manly young chest and encased in his virile, uniformed arms. All right, she might have thrown herself there purely out of instinct, but he was kind enough to hold her steady. “There, there,” he said, giving Libby a moment to reflect on the power young men could wield over a woman’s psyche.

  But when Ingrid edged into the light, he dropped Libby like a hot potato.

  Libby re-arranged her clothing. “I can’t believe I was confronted by a gunman in my own driveway! Why on earth was he following me?”

  Foley pointed at the Escalade. “He probably thought he was following Abruzzo. Maybe he was going to help you swim with the fishes.”

  “Good grief!” Galvanized, Libby shouted, “Ingrid, help me get Noah out of the car. I need to get back to the hospital immediately!”

  Back in the Escalade and zooming toward the hospital to Nora, Libby heard her cell phone ring. She rummaged it out of her purse and answered.

  “It’s me,” Emma’s voice was terse in Libby’s ear “How far along is Nora?”

  “I don’t believe she’s had her epidural yet. But I left the hospital at least half an hour ago, so the situation might have changed. Emma, something very strange just happened.”

  “Stranger than usual?”

  “I was followed! By one of That Man’s horrible employees. Except he’s been fired from the Abruzzo family, if the police know what they’re talking about, so why is he out looking for trouble? He had a gun! I have a bad feeling he’s was going to do something terrible!”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Short. With a ponytail, I think, and a highly unattractive manner. When will men learn that a little honey is so much better than vinegar? I simply cannot—”

  Emma cut her off. “I know who you’re talking about. He was at the hospital with another guy and a pregnant nurse.”

  “I spoke with a pregnant nurse. She was rather unpleasant, too. And pregnant at her age? She shouldn’t—”

  Sounding very serious, Emma cut her off. “I think we better get back to the hospital. I tried calling Mick, but he’s not answering his phone. Things must have heated up in labor and delivery. And if there are guns involved, we need to warn him. Can you do that?”

  “Why me? Where are you?”

  “I’m trying to kidnap a priest.”

  “What!”

  “Turns out, it’s harder than I thought.”

  “Emma!”

  “See what you can do to slow things down for me, okay?”

  “Slow things . . ? I don’t think that’s possible.”

  “If anyone can stop Mother Nature, Lib, it’s you.”

  Libby decided to take that remark as a compliment. “Emma, if you find the priest, be sure to pick up some flowers for a bridal bouquet. I’m thinking tulips or peonies. Nora would hate getting married without flowers.”

  “She’s probably going to get married without wearing underpants,” Emma retorted. “Flowers are beside the point.”

  7.

  Mick followed R
icci and the doctor through a door into another delivery room and found Zephyr Starr looking a lot different from the last time he’d laid eyes on her. She’d been stunning back then—a super model with a killer body and a wide, red mouth that looked like it could suck a watermelon dry. Tonight her gleaming hair was hacked short, and her body was soft all over, her skin mottled. Her belly looked big and hard and uncomfortable. Like maybe she had an alien inside.

  “You!” She pointed at him with one long, shaking finger. “Get somebody to cut this kid out of me before I go crazy!”

  Ricci finished unlocking the shackles and pulled them off Zephyr. He cast a raised eyebrow at Mick. “It seems Mrs. Starr doesn’t want to have her baby tonight.”

  “I feel like I’m being attacked by a chain saw!” she yelled. “I want a C-section! I … I want … I want … Help!” She threw her head back and screamed as another contraction took hold. All the tendons in her skinny neck stretched as if to the breaking point. The whole room vibrated with the unearthly sound she made.

  “Easy does it,” the doctor shouted over the scream, pulling her stool to the foot of the bed and preparing to examine her cursing patient. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “Don’t push. Not yet. Breathe. Let the contraction do its work. Everybody else, unless you want to be a part of this experience, this is the time to exit the room.”

  Mick turned to go—he hadn’t wanted to watch the doctor groping Nora, and the thought of watching Zephyr go through the same procedure was even less appealing—but Zephyr reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

  “You,” she snapped. “You stay right where you are!”

  Aware of Ricci bolting for freedom, Mick began, “But—”

  “Do you want this kid?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Then stay here and catch it when it comes out.”

  Doctor Stengler gave Mick a stern eye as she placed Zephyr’s large bare feet in the stirrups. To him, she said, “Anything you can do to keep the patient calm and in control will mean less stress for the baby.”

  “I should be with Nora.”