Diana Orgain - Bundle of Trouble

He released me and studied my face.

“But I really like Kiku. She’s so nice. And it may turn out that Michelle committed suicide. Besides, Mrs. Avery only hired me-”

“Kate! You’re not that naïve. You have to be honest. With yourself and the authorities.”

“I know. I know. You’re right. I think the murders are linked, but I don’t think Kiku had a motive to kill Brad.”

“If Michelle was murdered, what would have been Kiku’s motive?” From the closet, Jim pulled out a gorgeous green tie with burgundy flecks. “This one okay?”

I nodded. “At one point, when I heard George was going over to Michelle’s at night and all, I thought they might be having an affair. Maybe Kiku thought the same thing. If she killed Brad, too, then she would have needed-”

Jim tightened his tie. “An accomplice?”

I nodded my agreement.

Jim pulled on a sports coat. “You can’t expect a pregnant woman to get rid of a body, can you?”

“I don’t want George to be responsible.”

Jim gave a sour laugh. “I’ve been wanting him to be responsible his whole life.”

“I meant. .”

Jim’s face softened. “Whoever is responsible for these crimes needs to be held accountable.” He checked his hair in the mirror. “Regardless of his or her relationship to us. You need to do what’s right, Kate.”

I pressed my cheek against his. “You look incredibly sexy,” I whispered.

Jim wrapped his hands around my shoulders and pulled me close, kissing me deeply. I kissed him back as I undid his tie.

The next morning at 5 A.M., I could hear Laurie shifting in her bassinet. I knew she’d be hungry soon.

I poked Jim. “Can you feed Laurie?”

He unglued one eye and looked at me. “How can I do that? I don’t have any boobs.”

“Mom bought us some formula bottles. They’re in the pantry. Can you give her one?”

“I thought you didn’t want to give her any formula.”

“Please just give her one,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah. . sure,” he mumbled. He got up and returned with the formula. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Laurie had begun to fuss.

“Jim, I’m exhausted. Can you please figure it out?”

Somehow, he managed to grasp that the only thing necessary was to uncap the premade formula and screw the nipple onto the bottle.

He picked Laurie up and placed her between us. She immediately started rooting at me and wailing even louder. As soon as Jim put the bottle in her mouth, she quieted down.

Hmmm? She was drinking the formula! That seemed kind of easy.

Why was I going through the pain and exhaustion of breastfeeding?

Then I remembered all the benefits. The uterus shrinking, immunization for Laurie, vitamins, blah-blah, all the things they had told me at the hospital.

Not to mention the extra five hundred calories a day I was supposedly burning.

I pulled the blankets up, feeling literally drained. I still needed to build up a supply of breast milk for Laurie, for my return to work. If she was drinking formula, this was the perfect opportunity to get up and use the pump.

I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself.

Was I returning to work?

Could I make this PI thing succeed?

I watched Jim feed Laurie. She snuggled into his arms. It was nice to have a little break, even though I was leaking everywhere.

I probably should have nursed her.

Instead, I selfishly pulled the covers over my head and tried to doze off.

Laurie began to cry. I pried an eye open and peeked over. Jim was asleep and had let the bottle fall out of her mouth. He continued to sleep through her cries.

I poked at him. “Jim.”

“Hmmm?”

“The baby. Feeding. Remember? Wife sleeping. Taking a break.”

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, sticking the bottle back into Laurie’s mouth. She stopped crying long enough for me to get comfortable. Then the wailing began again.

Jim was back asleep. Laurie was rooting around for the bottle.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” I grabbed the bottle and held it for her. Jim snored next to me.

Unbelievable.

There really is no substitute for maternal instinct.

My breasts were swollen and painful. That’s what I got for feeding her formula.

At 9 A.M., Jim was snoring and Laurie was still asleep from the formula. If it was helping her sleep, why was I opposed to it? I crawled out of bed and reviewed my to-do list.

To-Do List:

1. Help Jim find a job.

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

3. Check in on Galigani.

4. Day care for Jelly Bean??

5. Take more pictures of my little lollypop.

6. Get a photo book for Lemon Drop!

7. Stop missing Laurie so much when I’m away from her.

I got dressed and noticed that my belt was in a notch. I couldn’t believe it! “Hey, honey,” I called excitedly to Jim, “look at this! I’ve lost an inch!”

Jim looked at me while rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “You’re the incredible shrinking woman.”

I had a long way to go before that was true, but at least this was progress.

“All right,” I said, prepping Jim. “Laurie should be hungry soon. There’s a milk bottle in the fridge for her.”

“Where are you going?”

“Over to Michelle’s. I need to do a little more investigating.”

I hopped into my Chevy and dialed Mrs. Avery. Marta told me Mrs. Avery was “in de Club.”

“Do you have a key to Brad’s house?”

“Keee?”

What was the word in Spanish? Clef?

No, that was French.

Somewhere in the recess of my mind the word bubbled up.

“Jave?”

“Llave?” Marta clarified.

“Sí,” I replied.

“You water plants today?”

What the hell. “Sí.”

“Hokaay, you come pick up.”

I let myself into Michelle’s and wandered around the house aimlessly. No crime scene tape? Did that mean the police had ruled Michelle’s death a suicide?

I moved from room to room and tried to push from my mind the images of her body sprawled out in the dining room. In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of water and sat at the table, feeling an emptiness I hadn’t experienced before.

Although we had been out of touch for many years, Michelle had been a good friend in high school. It would have been nice to have the opportunity to reconnect with her.

I ended up in her bedroom, looking through her jewelry box, a simple wooden box with a mother-of-pearl lid.

Could the bracelet I found in George’s bag be Michelle’s? I recalled her handing it to me in front of the medical examiner’s office. Something nagged me. Had she recognized the bracelet? If it was hers, why not keep it? Why give it to me? Unless she was having an affair with George and didn’t want me to know her things were in his bag?

I ran my fingers across the expensive pieces in the box. Nothing resembled the silver bracelet. I wished I’d thought to show it to KelliAnn, Michelle’s half sister. She would have been able to tell me if it had been Michelle’s.

So if it wasn’t Kiku’s and probably not Michelle’s, who could that bracelet belong to, and what was George doing with it?

I recalled Jennifer’s silver rings. She’d worked at El Paraiso, and she was having an affair with Brad. Could it be her bracelet?

What if it was Jennifer’s bracelet and George, not Winter, her boyfriend, who had helped her kill Brad? How or why else would George have her bracelet?