Motherhood Is Murder Part 26

My daydream was cut short with the discovery that we didn't have any crackers, nuts, or fruit.

Man! I had to get to the store.

I took a sip of wine, sliced another piece of cheese, and ate it anyway. Didn't wine count for fruit?

I cracked open the file from Gary. It was a transcript of Inspectors Jones and McNearny questioning Bruce. Only they hadn't been able to ask him much. Gary had coached Bruce and he'd only made a small statement about being grieved over his wife and shocked about the incident at his house. He repeated the same statement to most of the questions until Gary put a sudden stop to the questioning by quoting a statute and ending the interview.

Short and simple, they needed to officially charge him if they were going to get any answers. And without evidence, they couldn't charge him.

I grabbed the phone and dialed Margaret. I got no answer but left her a second message. Where was she? She was supposed to be at her mother's but there was no answer there either.

What kind of investigator can't get in touch with her client?

I heard the front door creak open and knew my time for dinner prep had run out.

I'm a failure as a housewife.

Jim clunked down the hallway and peered into the kitchen. He inhaled deeply. 'Hi, honey.'

'What's wrong?'

He let out his breath and dropped his briefcase on the floor. 'My client put a hold on the project.'

'What does that mean?'

'Did you watch the news today?'

I shook my head.

'The market's crashed. People are kind of freaking out. So, Dirk wasn't able to secure funding for the project.'

My mind flashed on Bruce Chambers. His clients would be scared, too.

'What does it mean for us?' I asked.

Jim shrugged. 'Well, we don't have much in the market, so in that regard we're fine. But if they don't get funding for my project, that means I'm out of work again.'

During my maternity leave from my corporate job, Jim had been let go from his. He'd been able to land a freelance client and the income had been large enough, or so we thought, to last us awhile so I had left my corporate gig.

I felt my heart constrict. 'They gave you a retainer, though.'

Jim closed his eyes. 'That's not a guarantee. My contract states that if the project moves forward, I apply it to the cost of the project. If they back out in the first sixty days, I have to return fifty percent.'

I grabbed the stovetop for support.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into him. 'Don't worry, honey. Things will be okay. If this falls through, I'll find something else.'

I wanted to say that I would go back to my secure corporate income, but I choked on the words.

There was no way. I couldn't go back now. I had tasted the freedom and excitement of entrepreneurs.h.i.+p. Even with doubts surrounding a steady income stream, nothing could bring me to sacrifice myself to the doldrums of my office job again.

Could it?

Laurie squeaked from the nursery. She had been asleep for about an hour in the crib and that was the maximum she had ever slept at the dinnertime hour, what Jim and I were beginning to call the 'witching hour.'

'I'll get the squirrel,' Jim said. As he left the kitchen, he asked the inevitable, 'What's for dinner?'

'Nothing,' I called after him.

Jim laughed. 'Okay, open a can of soup. We're on austerity anyway.'

I groaned. 'But I'm nursing and I'm really hungry.'

Jim returned to the kitchen with Laurie bundled in his arms. 'Okay, screw it. Let's order a pizza.'

I squinted at him and bit my lip. 'I may have good news.'

Jim raised an eyebrow. 'Good. Something to celebrate. What is it?'

'I got a pseudo-job offer today. I think it will keep up our income stream anyway.'

Jim held Laurie out to look into her face. 'Mommy got a job offer,' he said.

Laurie was holding her head so well these days we no longer cradled it. Yet as Jim was holding her up and she was looking at him happily and gurgling, her head started to wobble and she suddenly pitched herself headfirst into Jim's chest.

'Whoa,' Jim said. 'She's excited.'

We laughed.

'What kind of offer?' he asked.

I filled him in on the details.

His face displayed an array of emotions as I recounted Gary's offer. I left out the girdle-popping incident-no need to sound like a complete moron in front of my number one fan.

When I'd finished talking, he was silent for a moment.

Finally I asked, 'So do you approve? Can I take him up on it?'

He shuffled Laurie from one shoulder to the other. 'Kate, I don't ever want to keep you from doing something you want to do.' He wrapped his free arm around me. 'I just want you to be safe. Promise me you'll be careful.'

I kissed him. 'I promise.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Watchful

To Do:

1. ?

2. Throw out stupid girdle and exercise-there is no subst.i.tute.

3. Find Margaret-why isn't she calling me back?

4. Get Laurie outfit for Thanksgiving.

5. Groceries!!!

In the morning I looked out my front window and saw our neighbor Kenny was.h.i.+ng his van. It was an old white van with tinted windows.

A van?

His van would be perfect for a stakeout!

I rapped on the window. He looked up and waved when he saw me. I picked Laurie up, wrapped her in a blanket, then ran down the stairs.

'Hi, Kenny, can I use your van? I want to check something out.'

'Sure. Is your car in the shop?'

'No. I need to go on a stakeout,' I said proudly.

Kenny bobbed his head up and down. 'Cool.'

I observed Celia's midwife center from inside Kenny's van. There was no activity.

Wow. I was on a stakeout.

I'd done a stakeout on my first case, but Jim had been with me, so it felt more like I was hanging out with my husband-which I was-instead of a stakeout. And following Alan last week didn't count because that was really only following-so now it was official-my first stakeout.

And I actually felt prepared. I had stopped by Mom's to water her plants and borrowed her binoculars, then I'd bought lunch.

Practically a legitimate PI.

And with two paying clients no less!

Where was Margaret?

I unwrapped the bagel I'd purchased from the shop up the street. Cream cheese dripped over the side but the tomatoes and spinach were still crisp. If I waited any longer to eat it, the veggies would start to wilt.

Oh, well, better eat it now. If Celia kept me waiting too long, I could always get something else from the shop.

Wait. What if I missed her leaving?

I used my binoculars to check out the shop.

Binoculars! A real PI tool.

Oh, I was growing, growing, growing!

Never mind the fact that I had borrowed them from Mom.

The shop was within view, but if I went inside and, say, I was at the counter ordering, then I wouldn't be able to see the entrance of Celia's midwife center. I couldn't risk missing her.

Darn.

I bit into the bagel anyway. It was absolutely divine. Either that or I was extremely hungry-which I was. After a few bites the bagel was gone.

Now I was out of food but still hungry.

I sipped on my latte. It was too bitter to drink fast.

Good. That would give me something to do and maybe curb my appet.i.te a bit if I drank it slowly.

I tapped my foot and waited.

What was the deal with stakeouts? Why had I been so excited? This was boring. How long would I have to wait for some action?

What was I hoping for anyway?

Wait.

A car just turned the corner.

Yippee! Action.

Maybe someone was coming to see Celia. I strained to identify the car. It didn't look like Alan's Lexus.

It was a Toyota. It drove right past me.

Darn!

I fidgeted around the van. Kenny had some pretty good gear in here. I picked up a trombone. Man, it was heavy. My cell phone rang and I dropped the instrument as though I'd been caught in the act of stealing it.