Diana Orgain - Bundle of Trouble

“Do you think Jennifer killed Brad?”

“I’ve told the police that a dozen times. Svetlana, too. After Jennifer quit at El Paraiso, she went to work at Svet’s store.” She stood and picked up a handbag off a side table. “Well, I was on my way out. Can I walk you downstairs?”

We left the apartment in silence. In front of the building, KelliAnn embraced me. “Thank you for coming by, Kate.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said into her red hair.

She released me and smiled sadly. “I know.” From her purse she pulled out a pair of glasses, held together in the middle with tape, and a key ring. She pointed the key at a gold hard-top Mercedes. “Can I give you a lift anywhere?”

“No. Thanks. I’m not parked far.”

She nodded and put on the glasses, which succeeded only in making her look sadder. She walked to the Mercedes, then waved at me as she climbed into the car.

I crossed the street and peered through the windows of Heavenly Haight. Jennifer was helping an older woman pick through colorful scarves.

I sighed.

My tummy rumbled. Hungry again.

A huge McDonald’s sign loomed over me. My stomach roared. I never ate fast food, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed time to think, and eat. I ducked into the McDonald’s and placed an order.

Was I really burning all this food by breastfeeding? Or was this another old wives’ tale that would end up biting me in the ass, literally? What good was it to burn an extra five hundred calories a day if I was craving and consuming an extra thousand?

Oh well, at least I hadn’t supersized. And of course, I’d gotten the diet soda. Why drink the calories when you can eat them?

I dialed Jim from my cell phone and asked about Laurie.

“Honey, I don’t know what you think you’re missing, but she’s sleeping.”

“I’m missing her. Her face, her smell, her entire little personage!”

Jim laughed. “Her entire little personage has been asleep since you left.”

“Is she breathing?”

“Of course she’s breathing.”

“When’s the last time you checked?”

“Hold on.”

I tried not to panic. I bit into my Big Mac and waited. What was taking him so long?

“She’s fine.”

“You have to check on her, make sure she’s okay.”

“I am. I do. I mean, she right here. She’s fine. Kate, you haven’t even been gone an hour.”

“I know, all right. It just feels like longer. Feed her when she wakes up and make sure to check her diaper. I’m having lunch right now. I need to make a couple more stops, and then I’ll be home. If you need anything, call me on my cell.”

Jim laughed.

“What?”

“You’re having lunch? It’s not even noon yet,” Jim said.

“Yeah, but they stop selling breakfast at eleven.”

“Where are you?”

I laughed. “You don’t want to know.” I shoved a french fry into my mouth.

After we hung up, I ate my lunch and mulled over my notebook. I reviewed the entries from the interview with Jennifer. She told me she’d been with her ex-boyfriend, Winter, on June fifteenth. Never said a peep about an affair with Brad or him coming over to see her that night. Well, why would she?

What did I expect? That she’d come right out and tell me she killed him?

What had Galigani said? That guilty people are not usually paranoid. They want you to ask them questions because they think they can fool you. Jennifer had been extremely forthcoming when I’d met her. Offering up an alibi for the night of Brad’s murder without my asking. Of course, she hadn’t told me about her affair with Brad. Galigani was right, she had fooled me.

I dialed information as I chomped down on my burger, and requested an address for Winter Henderson.

Luck was with me. As it turned out, he lived in the Haight, a few blocks away. I wouldn’t have to deal with parking and I could walk off an entire french fry or two.

I polished off the rest of my burger and packed up my notebook. I refilled my diet soda on the way out, reminding myself not to drink anything offered to me by strangers. By the time I arrived at Winter’s house, I was winded, but my bones didn’t hurt. Progress was progress.

The house was small and square, tucked in between two larger apartment buildings. I rang the bell. A very tall and bearded man answered the door. He had bright boyish eyes that warmed his complexion. I introduced myself and told him I was looking for Winter Henderson.

His face lit up. “That’s me.”

I told him I was investigating Brad Avery’s murder. “I want to ask you a couple questions about the night of June fifteenth.”

He twisted his lips to one side of his mouth. “Him again?”

“You’ve already talked to someone about him?”

He stroked his beard. “The cops. I guess my ex-girlfriend, Jennifer, told them she was with me that night.”

“Was she?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really know. That was months ago.”

I sipped on my soda. “Do you keep a diary, or a calendar or anything?”

“Nope.”

So he didn’t remember spending every night with the woman for three consecutive months?

We shared an awkward moment in the doorway. He was obviously not going to invite me in. I had to think up more questions fast or the door would be closing in my face shortly. “Did your relationship end amiably?”

His clenched his hands into fists, his arms dangling at his sides. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. No, it didn’t.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask this. I’m sure you don’t like to talk about it, but do you know if she was seeing anyone else?”

His face flushed. “You mean while she was seeing me? I don’t know. Who would she have been seeing? No. I don’t think so. We broke up because she got this new job at a store near her house and she kind of changed. Sort of became distant and aloof.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t like that.”

“Of course not,” I said, “Who would like that?”

He nodded and seemed to relax. “Yeah, right. See, she kind of turned nasty.”

Why would she change after leaving El Paraiso? Unless maybe she was under some kind of stress. Of course, if she killed Brad, that could have caused some major stress.

“I really fell for her. I thought we were going to get married.” His voice cracked again.

“Sometimes things work out for the best, even though we don’t think so at the time.”

From inside the house a voice called out, “Winter! Who’s there?”

He turned around as though he’d been struck. “No one, Ma. I’m coming.” He turned to me. “I gotta go.”

“Thanks for your time,” I said, retreating down the stairs.

I walked down the street, reflecting on the case. If Jennifer killed Brad, how could she dispose of the body on her own? Maybe Winter had helped her. Perhaps that was why he didn’t want to give her an alibi. If he admitted to being with her, he could implicate himself as her accomplice.

What could have happened?

Brad was in love with Jennifer, Jennifer was in love with Winter. Brad was pestering her. Hounding her. Wouldn’t leave her alone.

Maybe Jennifer grew afraid her boyfriend, Winter, would find out about the affair? Would that be motive enough to kill Brad?

Jennifer knew George, so maybe she knew about the gun in his bag. She could have taken George’s gun and shot Brad and then asked Winter to help her get rid of the body.

But then why would Winter help her dispose of Brad’s body? That part of my scenario made no sense. I’d have to work on it a bit more.

I sipped my soda as I walked into Heavenly Haight. Incense was burning. The chime rang as I stepped on the floor mat. Jennifer looked up. She glanced at me, but turned her attention back to the customer she was waiting on, who couldn’t decide between unscented candles, which her boyfriend liked, or scented candles, which she preferred.