Diana Orgain - Bundle of Trouble

On further thought, she couldn’t be bringing in gifts. The stuff that was here was already assembled. If she was bringing things up, she’d probably bring everything up at once, then assemble it later.

Baby gear always comes in a box, with the ridiculous statement: “Easy to assemble.” And I don’t care what they claim-none of it, ever, could be opened or closed with “just one hand.” The boxes are covered in lies.

I walked farther into the apartment. Everything looked normal in the kitchen.

Why was Kiku’s door open?

Had someone kidnapped her?

I imagined Kiku tied up hostage style in someone’s filthy garage, gagged, her pregnant belly protruding.

I tried to shake the thought from my mind as I made my way into her small bedroom, looking for any kind of distress.

Nothing seemed out of place. The room was impeccable.

Where could she be?

I peeked into her closet for boogeymen.

No killer hiding there.

The open front door probably meant nothing.

Could she be having the baby?

Oh, God!

I imagined Kiku running out of the apartment, looking for help, leaving the door open. I hoped nothing was wrong.

I glanced down at a jewelry dish that held several small gold rings. All too small, I was sure, for her to wear at the moment.

I glanced down at my own hands. I had yet to replace my wedding ring. I fingered a pretty gold necklace and matching earrings.

Hmmm, all gold.

No silver like the bracelet I’d found.

I ambled over to the bedroom window that overlooked the apartment house gardens. There, I saw Kiku bent over a bed of dahlias.

I pried open the window and called out to her. “Kiku! What are you doing? You shouldn’t be gardening!”

Kiku looked up and squinted toward the window. A look of recognition crossed her face. “Only a few flowers,” she said with a laugh. “For Baby.”

“Yes, but it’s not good for you. I don’t think so anyway. You shouldn’t be on the ground like that.”

I don’t actually know anything about gardening. Jim is the green thumb in our family. But I certainly didn’t like seeing a nine-month-pregnant lady on her knees, weeding!

“It’s okay! My mother gardened until I was born.”

I was unconvinced. “Oh. Well, all right. But come inside now. It’s getting cold.”

Kiku struggled to her feet, holding a few cut dahlias in her hand. She disappeared into a doorway and a few minutes later I greeted her at her front door.

“The door was open,” I explained. “I was worried about you, so I came in.”

“I didn’t remember where I left the key, so I leave door open.”

I stared at her. Ah, the forgetfulness of pregnancy. I had locked myself out of my car three times and had been warned by AAA road service that I had exceeded the maximum calls. One more call would have cost me at least a hundred and fifty dollars.

“You can’t leave the door open, though,” I protested.

“Why? Neighbors good people.”

“But I walked right in. What if. . well, what if it wasn’t me and. .” I stopped myself.

What if I was the one in danger? After all, Kiku had been with Michelle that morning and had access to Valium.

Kiku waved a hand in the air, dismissing my objection, and proceeded to the kitchen. I followed her and watched as she placed the dahlias in a bright vase.

Kiku turned and looked at me expectantly. “You come for haircut?”

I laughed. “Ah! No.”

“You need a trim.”

What was the harm?

“Sure. Yes. Go ahead and trim.”

She motioned me to one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit.”

From a drawer she pulled out a plastic wrap and whipped it around me. She grabbed a spray bottle and spritzed my hair.

I fingered the bracelet in my pocket. “Kiku, George is my brother-in-law.”

Kiku spun me around to face her. “Brother?” she cried happily. “I didn’t know. Didn’t know you were George’s sister.”

“Sister-in-law. I’m married to George’s brother, Jim.”

Kiku selected a pair of scissors from the drawer. “George has brother? I no meet.”

“Do you know where George is now?” I asked.

She stood behind me and evaluated my hair. “At work.”

I turned around to see her face. “Yeah, but what’s he do exactly?”

“He works at restaurant, El Paraiso. That’s how we meet. He’s a chef.”

A chef? Oh brother, she didn’t know a thing.

“Kiku, George told me he saw you at Michelle Avery’s place the morning she was killed.”

She turned me around and proceeded to whack at my hair. I tried not to shudder at the length of the locks that were falling around me.

I suddenly remembered the play Sweeney Todd . Probably questioning someone about her whereabouts on the morning of a murder while she’s holding sharp scissors wasn’t a smart idea.

“Yes,” she said without skipping a beat.

“You told me you didn’t know Michelle Avery.”

She stopped cutting my hair. I turned toward her. Her eyes were glossy. “No, I mean, I didn’t know Michelle dead. George didn’t tell me. I went to see her about George’s job.”

“His job?”

“Yes. I went to restaurant. George no there. I worry, maybe he fired. Baby is coming, we need money.”

“What did Michelle tell you?”

Kiku turned me around and proceeded with the haircut. “Michelle said he still worked for her. At restaurant. She said George good worker. But now I’m worried again because she and Brad are dead!”

What about the wine at Michelle’s place? Someone had drunk wine with Michelle. Kiku wouldn’t have been drinking in her condition, right? So maybe Michelle had had another visitor.

“Did you see anyone else coming or going from Michelle’s place?”

Kiku remained silent for a moment. “No.”

I wondered about her hesitation. Then I realized she was studying me and my hair.

My breath caught. “Is everything okay?”

“You’re beautiful!” She smiled and brandished a mirror in front of me. The cut, while far shorter than I would have ever conceded to under other circumstances, looked stunning. I felt sassy and hip.

“Thank you.”

Kiku smiled. “Ten dollars.”

I laughed. “You deserve twenty, at least.”

I dug into my pockets.

No wallet.

It was in the diaper bag, along with everything else. I pulled out the bracelet.

“Uh. . Um. . I forgot my wallet, but I’m good for it. I promise.” I handed her the silver bracelet. “This must be yours.”

“No.”

“It has to be. It fell out of George’s bag.”

She read the inscription on the bracelet. “What’s ‘berry’?”

I shrugged. “I thought you’d know.”

She studied the bracelet in silence. “Why George have that?” She handed it back to me. “If he has other woman, I. .” She picked up the discarded hair scissors and snapped them open and closed. “I kill him.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “I don’t think he’s seeing another woman. Maybe someone lost it at the restaurant or something. See, the clasp is broken.”

Kiku nodded but remained pensive. After a moment, I put it back into my pocket.

She moved to get a broom. I got up. “Let me do that.” As I swept my curls, I said, “Yesterday you told me you didn’t know Svetlana Avery. Did you mean you didn’t know she was dead?”

She paused for a split second and said, “No. I don’t know Svetlana.”

Hmmm.

She said she’d been shopping. That could be true with all the baby gear around, but then where had the gear been this morning?

I finished sweeping. “So, looks like you’re ready for the baby with all that stuff.” I nodded toward the living room. “Where’d you get it?”