huh? You want a little quid pro quo?”

I nodded.

“I’m giving you a copy of my client’s interrogation.”

“He asked you to,” I answered.

Gary chewed on the cap of his pen and squinted at me. “Are we on the same team here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Has Bruce hired you, or what?”

I glanced around the room. “Not exactly.”

“Who are you working for?” Gary asked.

Time to come clean.

“I was hired by Margaret Lipe.”

Gary nodded. “You think Bruce is guilty.”

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “It was just Bruce, Celia, and I at his place, and I know I didn’t poison Celia.”

“What does Margaret Lipe think?” Gary asked.

I hesitated. Frankly I didn’t know what Margaret thought about the attempt on Celia’s life, because she hadn’t called me back.

How much should I disclose to Gary?

Did I have any obligation of confidentiality to Margaret?

“Well, Margaret suspected Alan, and I understand that for Helene’s murder—but what about Celia? If it was just the three of us at Bruce’s house, how can it be anyone other than Bruce?” I asked.

“Maybe Celia was with the doctor right before she showed up at Bruce’s. Maybe she’s the other woman and the doc told her he was going to get rid of his wife and then botched it. But now Celia knows about the accident and he’s scared she’ll say something to the police, so he slips her something on her way to Bruce’s.”

“If that’s the case, wouldn’t Celia tell the police that her lover killed Helene and then maybe tried to poison her?”

Gary shrugged. “Maybe she hasn’t put it all together. Or maybe she’s protecting him. You’d be surprised about the things people don’t tell the police. Well, probably you wouldn’t, if you’ve been doing PI work long.”

I tried to look as experienced as I could by composing my features into a serious reflective look and nodded.

He must have bought into my acting because he said, “Let’s start there, with the midwife. She knows something. Stake her out, see where she goes. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He chomped on the pen cap thoughtfully. “You think we can come to an arrangement?” he asked.

I studied his eyes. “What kind of an arrangement?”

“I have a PI I use to look into things. Because you know my time . . .”

“Right. Your time is pretty valuable.”

Gary smiled.

“Your reputation precedes you.” I laughed.

“Now, see! Sweet-talk like that will get you everywhere. I mean nowhere,” he corrected, shaking a finger at me, but with his disarming grin lighting up his face. “What I’m thinking is I can hire a PI, but they’d have to run around and do the same work you just did. So, I’d be behind the curve—”

“Isn’t what you’re proposing a conflict of interest?” I asked.

“Whose interest?”

“My client’s. Sort of breach of confidentiality.”

Gary frowned. “You’re not bound to confidentiality. Unless, of course, you bound yourself in your own contract. Which I hope you didn’t. Because it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law and you’d just be misleading your client. You should let me review that for you. Anyway, as you know under the Business and Professions Code, Article 6, Disciplinary Proceedings, Sections 7561-7567, you are free to report illegal activity as you see fit or risk suspension of your license, fees, jail time, you name it—whatever the Review Board decides.”

All right, so I didn’t have to worry about confidentiality, but how could I tell him I had no worries about a license suspension either?

“Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re proposing?” I asked.

“Simple, you work for me. I’ll double your hourly rate. Or are you working on a project basis?”

“Hourly.”

“Great. Hourly. I’ll double your rate. You can continue to work independently, so keep your contract with Margaret, I don’t care about that. But let me know everything you find out. I mean everything. I’d like a daily report. Doable?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Unstable

To Do:

1. Stake out Celia.

2. Build up milk supply.

3. Buy Laurie swing contraption thing (like baby Amanda) for two-month milestone.

4. Research safety re: computers in nursery.

5. Look up Business and Professions Code, Article 6.

“He wants you to work for him?” Paula asked.

“I don’t know if I can do that, though, ethically, you know?” I was seated at her dining room table nursing Laurie.

Paula had swaddled Laurie in a special swaddling blanket with Velcro closures on the sides and around her belly. When I complained and told her Laurie had outgrown the swaddle, she’d pooh-poohed me and told me that babies slept much better swaddled. I could hardly argue as apparently