I said, pinching a fold between my fingers.

“Oh, you’re just a little swollen. That’s what the girdle thingy helps with. It compresses your muscles or something and helps with the swelling.”

“Am I too late?”

Paula shrugged and took a tea mug from my hand. “I don’t know, I don’t think so, I think they recommend the first six weeks, but I’ll send you the web link. You can read all about it.”

There was a product out there that helped you get back to your prebaby shape and I’d missed it? What the hell kind of investigator was I?

I resumed my perch on the couch, covering my legs with the blanket. “Are you warm enough?”

She nodded and indicated her belly. “You know, running hotter than usual. Tell me what happened.”

“You mean yesterday?” I asked.

She sipped her tea and nodded.

“What did Jim tell you?” I asked.

She laughed. “Just the basics. Don’t worry—we still have plenty of things for you to explain.”

I gave her a brief account of the happenings since Helene’s death and ended by saying, “I freaked out yesterday and had a panic attack.”

“I always knew you’d end up nuts.”

I pushed her shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Either that or drive the rest of us crazy.” Paula sipped her tea and winked at me. “Better you than me, sister.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. Well, hey, I would have done the same thing. Christ, Kate, you practically found a dead woman.”

“I didn’t know your own mind could cause you to get physically sick like that. I mean, Paula, I was really sick. I threw up and had awful stomach cramps, I was dizzy, I was—”

“Kate!” Paula pulled her feet off the coffee table, leaned toward me, and grabbed my hand. “It’s not an everyday thing. Of course you made yourself sick. Who wouldn’t? Remember when we were twelve and you got your first period? I’m the one who ended up in bed with phantom menstrual cramps.”

I laughed at the memory. I had been confused about what was going on with my body, and Paula, who always knew infinitely more about women stuff because of her older sisters, had to be put to bed with Midol and a heating pad. As it turned out, Paula didn’t get her first menstrual cycle until almost a year later. I somehow weathered my first period without the medicine and attention, but simply went home and found Mom’s sanitary pads in the bathroom closet.

“That was different. We didn’t know what was going on then.”

“Well, you didn’t know what was going on yesterday. Hell, the guy could have poisoned you.”

“No. It really doesn’t make any sense. Intellectually, I knew that. Even if he is guilty of murdering his wife, he’s not going to poison an investigator at his place. That would be insane.”

“Well, he poisoned the midwife at his place basically in front of you. That sounds pretty crazy or stupid to me,” Paula said.

“I don’t know. What bothers me is that Margaret sort of set me up to believe it was Alan all along, and now I’m not sure if she really thinks that or if I was duped.”

Paula sipped her tea. “What’s your theory?”

I sighed. “I don’t have one.”

Paula rubbed her belly thoughtfully and made a little hmmm sound. “If Margaret or Alan weren’t there yesterday, then there’s no way they could have poisoned Celia, right?”

“Well, I don’t really know anything about what she might have been given. How long had she been there before I arrived? I mean, could she have been given something before getting to Bruce’s place? How long does it take for a poison to work or whatever before someone starts to feel the effects?”

Paula shrugged. “What kind of poison was it?”

“We won’t know until the medical examiner releases the toxicology report.”

“When’s that?”

I pressed my hands against my tea mug to warm them. “At least a week, I think.” After a moment, I said, “How was Paris?”

Paula folded her hands under her pregnant belly. “Very French. It was wonderful, and at the same time that I was sad to leave, I’m ecstatic to be home.”

My phone rang.

“Probably my mom calling from Mexico.” I grabbed the receiver.

“Kate, it’s Bruce. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

I almost dropped the phone.

Paula brought her feet off the table and sat up. “Who is it?”

“Bruce,” I mouthed, sitting next to her and holding the phone out a bit.

She leaned forward to eavesdrop.

“What is the purpose of your call, please?” I asked.

“Oh . . . um . . . can we meet?”

Before I could scream “No!”