accidentally, might just have been passing by.
Within half an hour, I’d decided that my insights were useless, that I didn’t know the killer. I’d finished “consulting.” It hadn’t been worth my anxiety over it, hadn’t required any risk or even much time. I would write Nick a brief, professionally worded note, offering my thoughts. I’d even be generous and praise the work of his “friend” Beverly Gardener. And then, I’d be done.
TWENTY-NINE
SOME DAYS, NOTHING HAPPENS. OTHER DAYS, EVENTS ASSAULT relentlessly from all sides, nonstop. Thursday was one of those days. It began in the dark, before dawn. susan called at six, hysterical for a change.
“she misses work for months, and then she gives me two weeks’ notice? I’ve got a trial next week. What am I going to do?”
“Bonita quit?” I yawned, trying to wake up.
“I can’t blame her, in a way. she’s scared. A lot of them are quitting, even some of the live-ins. I gave her the whistle and a can of Mace. I told her I’d bought the gun and was getting her a permit. But she won’t have any of it. she quit.”
“Damn. I mean, I can understand—”
“Of course. But what am I going to do? Tell the judge I can’t defend my client because the babysitter quit?”
“The girls can come to my house. Angela’s still on the job.” “How are they going to get there?” “It’s only about a mile. Walk?”
My doorbell rang. I checked the clock again. It was barely six-fifteen. Who the hell was ringing the bell? It was too early, couldn’t be Angela; besides, she had a key. Maybe Charlie? Was he feverish again?
“Mom? somebody’s at the door.” Molly’s feet thumped down the hallway. “I’ll get it!” I heard her bounding down the steps.
“Molly, no! Wait—you know the rule. susan, can you believe somebody’s at my door?”
“At this hour?” she was appalled. Calling me at this hour, however, had been acceptable.
“I’ll call you back.”
“No, don’t. I gotta get to work. It’s round the clock for me these days. And thanks for your offer. But, fact is, with all their music lessons and swim team and all, it wouldn’t work. I might have to ask Tim’s mother to stay with us. Can you imagine? It could come to that. Dear Lord—look, I’ll see you tonight, the moms’ meeting, right?”
“Right.”
The bell rang again. Molly called, “Mommy. Hurry up!” I dashed down the steps to the door and peered out the peephole.
“Who is it, Mom?”
“Nobody,” I said. “Go ahead, you can open it.” Carefully, she undid the bolt and turned the handle. “Greetings.”
Good Lord, he was growing a mustache. The thing looked alive, as if it had crawled onto his face.
“Jeez, Michael. What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”
“No, no, Zoe. You’re supposed to say, ‘Michael—how nice to see you! Michael—what a nice surprise. How sweet of you to bring doughnuts. Won’t you come in?’ “ He stepped around me, carrying a bakery box.
Molly stood by my side, blinking coyly.
“And who’s this pretty young lady?” Michael stooped to her level. “I’m uncle Mike. What’s your name?”
“Molly,” she muttered.
He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Molly. How are—”
“Listen, Uncle Mike,” I cut him off, “we have to get ourselves dressed here, so—”
“You have time. I came early so we’d have time to talk. Aren’t you going to offer me a cup of coffee? Decaf if you have it.” He was already helping himself, taking a mug out of the cabinet, reaching for the coffee grinder. “You know, this thing’s the best investment we ever made. Nothing like waking up to fresh brew.”
“so you came to visit the coffee grinder?”
“I came to see you, Zoe. Here. Let me fix us a cup.”
“What’s in that box?” Molly was clearly baffled. She hadn’t processed my night with Nick yet, and now Michael’d shown up, bearing gifts.
“A surprise.” He opened it, revealing assorted doughnuts. “Ask your mom if you can have one.”
“Can I?”
Before I could answer, Uncle Mike had poured Molly a glass of milk and given her a wad of pink-iced dough, and the two of them were sitting together, chattering and laughing like a pair of happy old hens. What was going on? I’d barely opened my eyes, and already events had sped past me. I couldn’t catch up, much less rein them in. When had I lost control? And how was I going to get rid of Michael? How many times in one lifetime did I have to throw the man