Chapter 12 #2
Now she paled and looked frightened. She glanced at Brian as though he might rescue her, but he was cringing as Zoey hooted loudly because the answer was five, just like I’d said.
Patty got up and walked away. Odd, very odd.
Ed announced that we were still tied with the Bookworms and that none of the other teams had any points. I leaned over and said to Brian, “So, you’re Patty’s neighbor?”
He looked surprised that I’d spoken to him, and said, “And friend. She’s always been kind to my family.”
That could mean a lot of things. I bit my tongue, and said, “Yeah, people up here are really nice.”
“Oh they are, aren’t they?” Zoey agreed.
“Not everyone,” Brian said.
“Really?” I said, hoping he’d elaborate. He didn’t. “Did you know Bobbie LaCross?”
Zoey giggled. “Everyone knew Bobbie.”
“She lived next door with Patty for a long time,” Brian said. “Too long.”
“The next question is, Which constitutional amendment protects against self-incrimination? The First, the Second, the Fourteenth or the Fifth.”
I rolled my eyes. Could this really be that easy? Before I could provide the answer, Brian said, “Fifth.”
Zoey nodded enthusiastically, wrote down the answer. I asked Brian, “Was Bobbie one of the people who aren’t really nice?”
“You’re awfully nosey.”
“He’s a private investigator,” Zoey explained for me. “He’s working for the winery Bobbie was suing.”
“Isn’t that over? Since she’s dead.”
I nodded, then added, “Also, because she was lying.”
Just then Emerald shifted in her sleep and wrapped a tiny arm around my neck in a little hug. I tried to ignore how much I enjoyed that. I was also trying to ignore how much my arm had begun to hurt and the fact that it time to change her diaper.
“Where’s the men’s room?”
Brian pointed. I picked up the diaper bag and left.
Well, they had it in hand, so I didn’t see the point of waiting for a break.
Was there a break? I had no idea. If it was karaoke you’d just leave when someone bad was singing, which was basically any time you wanted.
But this… Not like I had much choice. One of us was really beginning to stink.
Before I got to the men’s room, I ran into aura-girl.
She was thin, brunette, and had a had a habit of wearing obviously homemade clothing.
Tonight’s piece was a thick woolen sweater with one arm longer than the other.
Sandy? Yeah, that was it, Sandy something.
She took one look at me and Emerald, and said, “Oh my… I’m so happy for you! ”
“She’s not mine. She’s my sister.”
“No, I meant your aura. It’s blue. You’re content and at peace.”
Actually, at that particular moment I was a little frantic. Changing diapers was not on my list of things that brought me joy and contentment. She continued, “You must have taken what I said very seriously.”
“Yeah, what did you say again?”
“I said you’re a student of life. You remember that, I’m sure you do.”
“To be honest, I really didn’t understand what you meant. It sounds cool but, you know, it’s kind of vague.”
“A student of life? What could be clearer? You’re interested in people, you like watching them, figuring them out. Solving them in a way. And it’s good for you. Very good.”
Some of that wasn’t far off; she was giving me the creeps. “I hate to interrupt, but my sister needs to be changed.”
“Of course, of course…”
But then I thought, since I had the chance, “Did you happen to know Bobbie LaCross?”
She darkened. In fact, I felt like I was watching her aura change colors before my eyes. “I hate to say bad things about people. It’s not good… karmically.”
“Thinking them can’t be much better,” I said, hoping to nudge her into saying whatever it was. But she turned and walked away. Well, people seemed to have strong opinions about Bobbie.
In the men’s room, there was just enough room on the sink to balance Emerald while I removed one disposable diaper and got her into another one.
One thing my grandmother taught me, which was actually helpful, was that you had to keep one hand on the baby at all times.
It kept them from rolling, slipping, sliding, tumbling, flipping, spinning or otherwise escaping your grasp.
I was applying some ointment, when Hanging Chad came into the restroom. He didn’t bother with any of the traditional uses of a public toilet, and said, “The books you reserved are in. They’ve been in for quite a while. I tried calling you, but you don’t answer.”
As I quickly finished diapering my sister, I tried to figure out what he was talking about.
I had a vague memory of going to the library shortly after my mother abandoned us and trying to take out a couple of books on baby craft.
What to Expect When You’re Expecting was one of them—a complete misfire, as I later found out it was only about pregnancy and not useful at all.
Honestly, I don’t remember what the other books were.
Between detoxing and actually taking care of Emerald I’d completely forgotten about the books.
Between the baby brigade, the pediatrician and some very enlightening baby blogs, I’d pretty much gotten a handle on things. At least I hoped so.
“Ah, yeah, um thanks. I’m not sure I need them anymore.”
Given the extra lousy job I’d done diapering Emerald, I thought for a moment he might disagree.
“Then I’ll release them back into circulation.”
He started to leave the restroom which left me wondering, had he really followed me into the men’s room to tell me my books were in? But then he stopped and asked me, “Hey maybe you’d like to have coffee some time?”
Oh, god.
“I kind of have my hands full at the moment.” Literally, I was holding an infant.
“Oh, well, yeah. Okay. Sure. Maybe sometime… in the future.”
“Probably not.”
“Oh. Yeah, right.”
And then he left.
You might think I was rude, but really I wasn’t.
The last thing I wanted to do was lead him on.
Saying no isn’t always as impolite as it sounds.
I know I might have, possibly, flirted with him a little tiny bit to get information.
I mean, seriously, who hasn’t flirted with a librarian when confronted with the Dewey decimal system? Anyway, I was sure he’d get over it.
When I got back to the table, my teammates were looking glum. In my absence they’d missed two questions. Ed read the next question. “In the Brady Bunch, who was Cousin Oliver? 1. Alice’s love child, 2. Greg Brady’s best friend, 3. Carol’s nephew or 4. a kitten the family adopted.”
“Well, obviously not number one,” I said.
“It’s the kitten, isn’t it?” Zoey guessed.
“No. It’s not. It’s Carol’s nephew.”
I mean, didn’t they watch television at all? The Brady Bruch was propping up at least two cable networks. And Patty was old enough to have seen it when it came out.
To my surprise, she leaned over and said, “Oh look, there’s Bobbie’s son, Hal.”
I followed her stare across the room. I’d expected someone around my age, but this guy was around fifty, had lost most of his hair, had deep set haunted eyes and had obviously seen some hard times. A lot of hard times.
I was reminded again of the similarities between our mothers—yes, I know that’s coming up a lot.
Then Hal smiled at someone, revealing that he had less than ten teeth.
Despite my mother’s obvious and persistent flaws, she had always provided dental care.
Or at least her various boyfriends had. In fact, she’d nearly married a dentist so I could have braces.
I was about to get up and go talk to him, the words, “Could you watch—” had come out of my mouth, when Patty cryptically said, “Detroit.”
“Detroit? What about Detroit.”
“That’s where Bobbie killed a man. In a bar.”
I watched her carefully. This didn’t feel like the truth. This felt like something she was making up.
“So, what? She got in a knife fight?”
She shook her head. “This guy tried to drug her, put something in her drink. She figured it out, so when he looked away she switched the drinks. He drank it and died.”
She’d just made the knife fight sound more believable. “So he was trying to drug her… to have sex with her?”
“I guess.”
“And that amount of whatever the drug was killed him?”
She shrugged. “All I know is what Bobbie told me.”
I still didn’t believe her. She never would have told me that Bobbie killed a man if this was the story.
And even if she did, why would she try to take it back?
Well, maybe because she was embarrassed that she’d told me something so obviously untrue.
But then, tonight, she was trying not to tell me.
This didn’t feel like the kind of story she’d try to hide.
And then Detective Lehmann walked in.