Motherhood Is Murder

Margaret and Sara disentangled from each other. Sara gave me a curt nod. ?Kate, I didn?t think you would be here. Thank you for coming.?

?You?re coming to the reception, aren?t you?? Margaret asked.

I glanced at my watch again.

?She probably needs to get back to her baby. Don?t you, Kate?? Sara asked.

Why so much disdain?

I felt a surge of rebellion. The answer of course, was ?Yes, yup!? I needed to get back to Laurie?that is what any responsible mother would say. It is what any good mother would have said. Instead I found myself smiling and saying, ?Well, she is with her dad and I think there?s even some milk reserve . . . I suppose it?s okay for me to be out just a little while longer.?

Margaret?s face visibly relaxed. ?Oh, good. Good.?

Sara and I exchanged tight smiles.

Margaret?s husband, Alan, approached. He offered his arm to Margaret. ?Shall we??

Margaret nodded. Alan?s eyes raked me over. They had a glimmer of recognition, but it seemed he couldn?t quite place me.

?Kate Connolly,? I offered. ?We met the other night on the dinner cruise.?

His eyes darkened and he looked at me as though I were some kind of stalker. ?Of course.?

Right.

So now there were two people who didn?t want me around.

CHAPTER FIVE

Disconnect

On my way out of the church, I noticed Inspector McNearny and Inspector Jones hovering around the back.

Homicide cops.

I had met both of them while working on my first case a few weeks ago. In fact, McNearny was a good friend of Galigani?s and through that friendship our tenuous meeting had turned a bit more friendly.

McNearny raised a hand to me and gave me a ?not now? look.

Okay, maybe we weren?t that friendly.

He and Jones seemed to be trying to blend in with the crowd. They had positioned themselves near the exit and were pretending to be absorbed with the items posted on the church bulletin board.

Good Lord, didn?t they know that even plainclothes cops still looked like cops?

McNearny?s brown sport coat and no-nonsense shoes looked worn and at odds with this more affluent crowd. Jones?s blue suit was more compatible with the crowd, but his austere crew cut gave him that military look many San Francisco cops sport. Not to mention that both of them were as stiff and stilted as wooden chess pieces.

At least Jones smiled at me when I passed him.

What are they doing here? And why try to look undercover?

I noticed Celia, the midwife, watching me watching the cops. When we made eye contact, hers flicked over to McNearny. McNearny couldn?t even muster a rigid smile; instead he coughed into his hand, which caught Jones?s attention. They exited the church.

I glanced back at Celia. She shrugged then handed a card with directions to a pallbearer.

I left the church and crossed the Washington Square Park toward Columbus Street, where I had parked. It was blustery in the park and the trees swayed. I wrapped my scarf over my mouth and nose so as not to breathe in the cold air. As I approached Union Street, I saw McNearny and Jones go into Mario?s Bohemian Cigar Store Cafe.

Oh! Mario?s meatball sandwich and eggplant focaccia panini!

My mouth watered. I glanced at my watch.

Did I have time to stop in and grab a bite?

But then I?d have to talk to McNearny. Eating something grilled was completely different from being grilled.

While that meatball sandwich might well be worth it?I needed to hurry to my car in order to get into the line for the funeral procession.

I guessed McNearny and Jones weren?t going to the reception.

Some investigation they were running. Why had they come to the funeral?

I passed the Bohemian shop, and thankfully, because my face was covered by my scarf, neither McNearny nor Jones noticed me rush past.

Once in my car, I dialed Jim from my cell phone.