?l told you to limit your actions to the doctor!? McNearny growled.
?Well . . . I . . .?
He stood. ?Do not step on this investigation. I?m not interested in idle gossip about who is canceling projects. I?m canceling you. You got that? Believe it or not, SFPD was here before you broke onto the scene. We have the training and experience necessary to handle this. It?s not amateur hour. Amateurs end up in the hospital!?
I remained quiet, duly reprimanded.
He leaned in a bit. ?Either that or they end up in jail for interference!?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
To Do:
1. Talk with Galigani?what are the real dangers of this business?
2. Stock up on soup and tea.
3. Dust and clean house?yuck!
4. 
Ask Jim to do laundry.
5. Laurie swim classes?
6. Be a better mom?stay out of trouble?do NOT endanger Laurie.
The following morning, I puttered around the kitchen making coffee, still not sure if I would be able to drink any. My throat continued to hurt and only tea seemed to go down. It was 9:00 A.M., and Jim and Laurie were still sleeping.
The nurses had pumped Laurie full of formula and it seemed to knock her out overnight. We had been up to breastfeed only once, around 3:00 A.M.
When we got home last night, after the hospital escapade, Jim had made me promise not to investigate without guidance. He?d said if Galigani wasn?t willing to sponsor me as an intern and supervise me, then I?d have to stop investigating.
Actually, the arrangement was fine with me. I hated being scolded by McNearny. What if he arrested me?
No.
The temperature had dropped overnight and it looked like we were in for a bit of a cold spell. At least by San Francisco standards, high forties. I planned to snuggle under a fleece blanket, drink tea, be with Laurie, and watch TV all day.
No running around and thinking I had consumed something deadly.
I flicked on the TV and at the first commercial break got antsy. I peeked at my cell phone and noticed the voice mail indicator on. I?d missed three calls yesterday.
No!
I?m a stay-at-home. One hundred percent mom. If I listened to my voice mails, I might get sucked in again. I padded to the middle of room, where Laurie was lightly sleeping in the bassinet. She fidgeted and swung her arms. I touched her cheek, and despite the fuzzy sleeper, she seemed cold.
When would I be allowed to use a blanket in her bassinet? She had broken out of the swaddle a few weeks prior, and keeping her warm in this weather was going to become a concern.
My eyes flicked back to my cell phone. There wasn?t any harm in checking messages, was there? All I would be doing was listening. Maybe there was an important message, even something urgent.
I grabbed my cell phone as the doorbell rang. I made my way to the front door and looked through the peek hole. There was a pregnant belly poking its way through a bouquet of flowers. My best friend, Paula, was standing behind the bouquet.
I flung the door open and a gust of wind hit me in the face. I grabbed Paula around the neck, crushing the flowers between us. ?Oh, my God, what are you doing here??
Paula, a born designer, was wearing a white cashmere overcoat and was wrapped in pink accessories. Pink gloves, scarf, and hat. They matched her cheeks.
She stepped inside and handed me the flowers. ?These are for you.?
?For what??
?I called yesterday and Jim told me you had been in the hospital. I wanted to come see you right away.?
A delicate Parisian shopping bag hung from her wrist. She unlatched it and handed it to me. ?Something for the little one. Where is she??
I directed her to the living room. Paula immediately spotted the bassinet and rushed to unbundle herself. She thrust all her pink accessories at me, even her Dolce amp; Gabbana purse?also in pink.
I hung everything in the hall closet. ?I wasn?t expecting you home so soon.?
?I came home to have the baby!? she said, reflexively rubbing her belly.
?But you?re not due, for what, another couple of months, right??
