Bundle of Trouble

passing her to Mrs. Avery. The last thing I needed was for Laurie to leak all over Mrs. Avery’s expensive suit.

“She smells so sweet.” Mrs. Avery breathed Laurie in. “I haven’t held a baby since Penny.” She sighed, then walked over to the mantel and pointed at the family portrait I had been looking at. “Here she is. Penny drowned five years ago.”

My throat constricted. I fought back more tears. “I know.”

Mrs. Avery looked surprised. “You do?”

“Svetlana told me.”

Mrs. Avery looked solemn. “Marta said you were here on behalf of Mr. Galigani.”

“Yes. I’m afraid he’s had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital. He’s scheduled for open heart surgery tomorrow.”

Mrs. Avery’s forehead creased. “Poor man. What hospital?”

“California Pacific.”

She rose, walked to the edge of the room, and called for Marta. When Marta appeared, Mrs. Avery requested flowers be sent to Galigani.

I felt a flash of guilt as I remembered the thank-you cards I had forgotten to write.

Well, in all fairness, I didn’t have a “Marta” to delegate to, but still. Our friends and coworkers had found time to send me and Laurie stuff. I had to make the time to thank them.

I pulled out my notebook and jotted down: “Stop being rude.”

Mrs. Avery seated herself across from me in a green and gold upholstered occasional chair. Her face had relaxed a bit. She seemed to enjoy holding Laurie. She motioned to the notebook in my lap. “Are you Mr. Galigani’s assistant?”

Why would she think I was his assistant and not his replacement? Did I look that unqualified?

I wavered a second, then astonished myself by saying, “I’m an investigator myself, ma’am.”

Mrs. Avery nodded vaguely, tickling Laurie under the chin, causing her to warble and drool.

Emboldened by Mrs. Avery’s nonreaction, I pressed, “Mr. Galigani won’t be able to finish the investigation.”

“I need to find out what happened to Bradley. And now, of course, Michelle. The police are absolutely worthless. They pointed the finger at Michelle almost immediately. Now they tried to tell me that perhaps she killed Brad and then herself.” She shook her head sadly. “That scenario doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“What do you think happened to Brad?”

“Hasn’t Mr. Galigani filled you in?”

Oh, shit.

“I’ve been on another case.”

Not exactly a lie. I had been looking for George.

She pressed her lips together in thought and seemed to accept my response. “I believed, well, I should say, I still believe Michelle’s story. She visited me on June sixteenth, the day after Bradley left her. She told me he’d left her for another woman. She was very upset. Michelle and I were close. Her own mother had passed. She relied on me. And Bradley, I must say, he always had a problem with women. Like his father. One woman wasn’t enough for him. Always needed to find. .” Her eyes flickered about the room. “Never mind. The point of the matter is, I thought Bradley was off with another woman. In Costa Rica or Bora Bora or another of his preferred locations. After all, he left Svetlana like that, told her he was in love with someone else-Michelle. Bradley and Michelle were in Bali for three months.” She let out a cynical laugh that jarred Laurie, sleeping in her arms. “But the other woman never thinks that there will be another woman. She believes him when he says that she’s the one. The special one.”

Laurie opened her eyes slightly. Mrs. Avery rocked and shushed her back to sleep.

“Do you know who she was?”

“The other woman? I have no idea. Bradley never spoke to me about his affairs.”

“Do you know who would want to hurt him?”

A tear welled in her eye. “My dear, I don’t know what to think. I just want to know what happened to him. I want whoever killed Bradley and Michelle brought to justice.”

“Can you tell me anything about El Paraiso?” I asked.

Mrs. Avery’s eyes narrowed. “I told my son not to get involved. Imagine opening up a restaurant in one of the most competitive cities in the nation. Do you know the failure rate of restaurants here in San Francisco?”

I shook my head but Mrs. Avery proceeded with her rant, ignoring me entirely. “He always gave in too easily to Rich. He was Bradley’s best friend. Have you spoken with him yet? El Paraiso was his dream, you know, but Rich never had two pennies to rub together. So Bradley, with my help, of course, funded the restaurant and we made Rich the assistant manager.”

Laurie began to squirm in Mrs. Avery’s arms.

“Well, dear, why don’t we get the paperwork out?” Mrs. Avery said.

“Paperwork?”

“I assume you have a contract for me to sign.”

I hated appearing unprepared, but I shook my head as the words “I’ll prepare one for you” tumbled out of my mouth.

Mrs. Avery raised an eyebrow. “Very well. Leave me your card.”

Oh God! I was going to lose my first client before I even landed her.

“My card. Yes. . uh. . I came straight from the hospital. .”

Mrs. Avery stood and handed Laurie to me. “I understand. Marta will provide you with my card. In the meantime, I’ll presume the same terms as with Galigani.”

I headed home for lunch, my head spinning. Mrs. Avery wanted to hire me. I’d done it. My first client. Now I had to zip home, draw up a contract, feed and change Laurie, and make dinner.

When would I sleep?

I had been hoping for a nap with Laurie this afternoon, but now, on the verge of my new career, that seemed indulgent, if not impossible.

I glanced at my to-do list. “Find George” stood out like a beacon. Galigani had found him. Why couldn’t I?

Pier 23, where his bags had been found, was not exactly on my way home, but one glance in the rearview mirror told me Laurie was sacked out. I’d drive by the pier and take a peek. The rest of the to-do list could wait until tomorrow.

I stopped at a red light in front of the pier. The water that had been so blue outside Mrs. Avery’s doorstep now appeared gray. Of course, Mrs. Avery had a clear view of the ocean; this water was in the bay. The bay always looked gray to me.

The pier seemed quiet. A few barrels against a restaurant wall and a homeless woman camped out with a blanket. Two joggers ran by. Then a hooded figure carrying a black bag made his way up the hill. I watched as he walked toward the pier. Something about his gait was familiar.

The car behind me blasted its horn. The light had changed.

I pulled my car forward, trying to keep one eye on the road and the other on the man, who’d stopped in front of a lamppost. His back was to me.

Could it be George?

I strained to see him, but was forced to pick up speed through the intersection.

Damn.

Probably nothing, but I wanted to make a U-turn and get a closer look. I changed lanes. A huge NO U-TURN sign stared down at me.

I’d need to change lanes again and go around the block. It took me nearly ten minutes in traffic to do that. I thought for sure by the time I circled around, the man would be gone.

I was finally in the right lane and able to drive directly past the lamppost. The man was still there. He had pulled off his hood and was straightening his hair.