I hope she’s okay.”

“I can probably take her home. Do you want me to check on her?”

“Thanks, Kate. That’d be great.” He drained his glass and refilled it. “First door on the right.”

I watched him settle himself into the couch and study his drink.

Poor guy.

I knocked on the guest bedroom door.

No answer.

I cracked the door and peeked in. Celia was lying on top of the covers, her shoes still on. Her hands folded across her stomach.

“Celia,” I whispered from the doorway.

She lay perfectly still. I cleared my throat and whispered a little louder. “Celia!”

When she didn’t move, I entered the room and laid my hand gently on hers. She was cold. I shook her. “Celia!”

She was pale and deathly still.

Uh-oh!

I grabbed her wrist and shook her furiously. “Wake up!”

When she didn’t move, I raced toward the door. I rammed my shoulder into the doorway and winced. Pain shot down my arm. I grabbed my shoulder.

“Bruce! Bruce, call 9-1-1!”

Bruce jumped to his feet. “What’s the matter? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m okay.” I rubbed my shoulder. “It’s Celia.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sucker

Bruce and I sat on the couch, each holding a tumbler of whiskey. We heard sirens making their way down the street. I was shaking uncontrollably and Bruce kept telling me to drink the whiskey. I couldn’t make myself do it.

As the sirens screamed closer, Laurie stirred in her bucket. She opened one eye and peered up at me.

Go back to sleep, I prayed.

The second eye opened and both stared at me.

I froze, hoping my statue stance might bore her back to sleep.

Now her mouth opened to match both eyes.

I cringed.

Laurie screamed fiendishly loud as though she were being poked with hot needles.

Bruce looked at her curiously. I picked her up and nestled her into my neck as the sirens came to a halt under Bruce’s window. He stood and crossed the room, ready to buzz the EMTs up.

Laurie’s cries replaced the noise of the sirens. It felt as if there were an ambulance in the room with us. I cooed, rocked, bounced, and did everything I could think of. Her screaming wouldn’t stop. I knew what she wanted.

How could I nurse her here and right now?

The EMTs, two guys in black uniforms, entered the condo and went down the hall with Bruce. Momentarily alone, I dug out a blanket from my backpack and searched for a private space to nurse Laurie.

The condo was all open space and windows.

Laurie continued to howl. I selected a chair and strategically placed it with its back to the hallway and facing a corner of the living room instead of a window. I wrapped the blanket around myself and snuggled Laurie under it, trying my best to nurse her with a modicum of modesty. She was immediately silenced.

I could hear voices down the hall. Every inch of me, except the part physically attached to the baby, wanted to be a fly on the wall of the guest bedroom. From the commotion, it sounded like they were giving CPR.

She couldn’t be dead.

That was impossible. No one her age just lies down feeling sick to her stomach and dies. Do they?

God. Please let Celia be all right.

Helene had probably been poisoned. Could Celia have been poisoned? By whom?

Uh-oh!

Anxiety crept through my chest.

Bruce and I were the only ones here. Could he have given her something?

Maybe while I was on the phone? He was downstairs all that time.

No! She was sick before that.

What about the salmon? I was the only one that ate it, though.

Unless Celia had tasted some before I came.

If I was poisoned, too—could I poison little Laurie through my breast milk?

Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Did my stomach hurt?

It did!

Was it just me? Was it hypochondria?

Focus on your stomach, Kate! Does it really hurt?

I felt nauseous.

Jesus, Bruce wouldn’t poison Celia and me in his own home, would he? Why hadn’t he eaten any salmon, for crying out loud! Why had I eaten it?

I pulled my breast from Laurie. She attempted to latch on again. I pulled the nursing bra into place. Laurie whimpered, then cried out.

Well, she wouldn’t die from crying, but I couldn’t risk poisoning her.

I jumped up and hurried down the hallway. Thankfully the motion soothed Laurie and she quieted down.

Bruce greeted me with dark eyes. “It doesn’t look good.”

“Is she . . . ?”

One EMT was crouched over Celia, while the other rose and barked something into a walkie-talkie secured on his suspender.

Bile was building in my throat. I felt my blood rush to