Diana Orgain - Bundle of Trouble

Just then a piping hot pizza, topped with Gorgonzola, pancetta, and caramelized onions arrived at our table. “I’ll whisper it in your ear.”

He served me a piece of pizza, placing his hand on my thigh. “This gets better and better.” He leaned in close to kiss me. “And by the way, I love your new haircut.”

At 7 A.M. Laurie and Jim were both still sacked out from the day before.

I got out of bed. I had only a week and a half left of maternity leave. Ten days. Two hundred and forty hours.

I needed to build up a reserve of milk. I pulled out the cartoon instructions from Paula and did my best to produce a bountiful supply. I yielded three ounces. Ridiculous! How did other women do it?

I grabbed my to-do list:

To-Do List:

1. Find Brad and/or Michelle and/or Svetlana’s killer.

2. Speak to Michelle’s sister, KelliAnn.

3. ✓

4. Mail thank-you cards.

5. Get some sleep.

6. Print business cards.

7. Go grocery shopping.

8. Figure out how to solve this crime and find a way in the world with my own little PI business.

I needed to meet KelliAnn, Michelle’s half-sister, give her my condolences, and see if she had an insight into these awful murders.

Since it was Saturday, Jim could babysit. I left him with the precious three ounces of milk and instructions to use formula if Laurie was still hungry. I studied Laurie before I left: her eyebrows were darkening but the hair on her head remained a delicate strawberry blond. I fought the desire to sit and study her all day. How could I miss her already if I hadn’t even left?

When I arrived at KelliAnn’s place, I rang the bell and was buzzed up.

KelliAnn stood in front of her door. She had beautiful red hair, the kind that is so red it looks almost orange.

Real red hair, not out of a bottle.

She was tall and thin, clad in a clinging purple sweat suit with a silver chain around her neck. From the chain hung an old-fashioned heart-shaped locket.

She was only a few years older than Michelle and me, maybe thirty-five or — six at the most, yet she hadn’t aged well, probably due to a combination of her fair skin, smoking, and/or stress. Her face was lined and she seemed a little angry.

Not unusual, I imagined, for someone whose half-sister had been killed a week ago.

“KelliAnn?”

She looked me up and down. “Yes. Can I help you?”

I extended my hand. “Kate Connolly. You probably don’t remember me; I was in Michelle’s class at Holy Rosary.”

She smiled, showing off astonishingly white teeth. I self-consciously ran my tongue over my own.

How were people getting their teeth so white these days?

“I do remember you.” Her face darkened. “You found Michelle, right? Come in.”

I entered the spacious apartment, decorated in cream and green. It was fastidiously clean; the hardwood floors shone and every surface seemed to sparkle. I sat on a leather armchair. She hovered over me. “Something to drink?”

I recalled my vow not to consume anything prepared by a suspect. That didn’t include the sister of the victim, did it?

Maybe prudence would be best. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.”

KelliAnn sat down on her sofa, her ego deflated, as though my declining a beverage had hurt her feelings.

“KelliAnn, I’m so sorry about Michelle. We weren’t close, not since high school, but what a tragedy. I-”

“Thank you. It’s been really rough. She was the only family I had left. My mom died when I was in high school, and our dad died a few years ago.” She played with the locket around her neck. “The police told me Michelle overdosed.”

“Combination of diazepam and alcohol.”

“Yes.” KelliAnn squinted and dropped the locket. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been hired by Gloria Avery to find out who killed Brad.”

KelliAnn paled, stood, then sat. “Gloria? Really? I never got the impression that she cared all that much.”

“About Brad?” I asked.

“Either one of them, really. She’s. . well, let’s just say she’s a lot like Michelle’s mother was.”

I recalled KelliAnn had not gotten along well with Michelle’s mother. Their father, a commercial airline pilot, had lived a double life, married to Michelle’s mom on one coast and maintaining a long-term affair on the other coast. When KelliAnn’s mother passed away, her father took her in and she came to live with Michelle and her mother.

Our high school was small, about three hundred students, so everyone was privy to the drama that Michelle and KelliAnn were going through as they went from strangers to half sisters.

I did my best to sidestep that land mine. “When’s the last time you saw Michelle?”

“We talked daily, but I hadn’t seen her since last week. Now, I wish I’d made the time. I had no idea she was so down that she’d kill herself.”

“You think she killed herself?”

Her brow wrinkled and creased, highlighting the sun damage on her face and causing her to look angry again. “Well, unless she accidentally overdosed. I mean, yeah. She had a tendency toward self-destruction. When Brad left her, she completely fell apart. She was starting to get better and then the police found his body. She just came apart at the seams.” She shook her head. “ And Brad left her for another woman. I don’t know if you knew how vain Michelle was, but she was supervain. So imagine the hit to her ego when he told her he was leaving her.”

“Do you know who he was seeing?”

She shrugged. “Sure. It’s no big secret.”

She knew! I could barely contain my excitement. I tried to remember I was supposed to be a professional.

As calmly as I could, I asked, “Who?”

She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “My neighbor, Jen.”

Hippie chick was the other woman?

“Jennifer Miller?”

KelliAnn looked confused. “You know her?”

Now I felt foolish. I had met Jennifer, but didn’t peg her as the other woman. What other clues were under my nose that I was missing?

I shrugged at KelliAnn and tried to hide my inexperience. “Well, I did speak with Jennifer early on in my investigation. I am a PI, you know.”

KelliAnn resumed fidgeting with the locket. “Right. Of course. Well, Michelle knew Brad was two-timing her, but I didn’t think she knew with whom. And I certainly didn’t want to tell her, ’cuz, I’m the one who got Jennifer hired at El Paraiso in the first place.”

“You felt responsible that Brad was cheating on Michelle? That’s absurd! If he was a big cheat, that has nothing to do with you!”

KelliAnn looked around the room and sighed. “I know, you’re right, but. .” She shrugged and looked despondent. “Brad would come here, well, there, next door, practically every night until. .”

My breath caught. “Did he come over here on June fifteenth?”

KelliAnn nodded. “He made kind of a scene that night, pounding on her door and yelling. She finally let him inside. He left after a while.”

“He left?”

That meant he’d left alive, not like she’d shot him in her apartment and dragged out a body bag.

“Yeah, but so did she, just a little bit after he did.”

“Have you told the police?”

A look of misery crossed her face. “I did tell them. But I never told Michelle. I didn’t want her to blame me. Now that she’s gone, I can’t believe I didn’t come clean with her.”