Motherhood Is Murder (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Labor

Cecelia Martinez?
What did this mean? I knew her as Celia Martin—certainly that was an alias . . . or was it all a coincidence?
Wait! When I had been at the hospital, the nurse had called her Martinez. Yes! She’d said that.
“Kate. What do you know about that adoption she was arranging?” Paula asked.
My throat felt thick. It was difficult to breathe. “No. They can’t be related. The story in Miami is more than a couple years old, right? Bruce and Helene were going to adopt a newborn, Celia’s cousin’s baby. I saw Helene’s plane ticket from SFO to Costa Rica. There were notes about traveling with an infant.”
I recalled the moms at La Petite Grenouille this afternoon discussing plane travel. Children over two years old needed their own ticket.
“Wait. What did you say?” Paula asked. “Did you say SFO to Costa Rica?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would she be traveling with an infant from SFO? Wouldn’t she be traveling there solo and then flying
back
with the baby?”
I needed air. I cracked open the window and felt a breeze hit my face.
“Oh my God! They were going to steal a baby. Celia and Helene were going to steal a baby. I’m sure of it. Only maybe Helene had changed her mind. She canceled the construction plans and was going to leave Bruce. She was going to live with Alan and fight for custody of his children. It’s all making sense now!”
Celia was driving Evelyn’s car away to hide it. Make it look like Evelyn had never arrived.
Evelyn. Her baby! I had to get to her.
I started the engine and drove down the street to the front of the birthing center. One tire popped the curb but I didn’t care, I slammed the transmission into park.
“But you said Celia wasn’t on the cruise!” Paula said.
I swung the van door open and reflexively put the strap of the diaper bag on my shoulder. “She wasn’t.”
“Then she couldn’t have slipped something in Helene’s drink if she wasn’t even there. And then what about poisoning herself? I mean, do you think that was a suicide attempt—”
“No! Her dose wasn’t lethal. Galigani told me that—”
Suddenly a hand reached into the van and gripped my hair. So fierce was the grip that it literally launched me out of my seat. My cell phone fell out of my hand. I gripped my bag to me and screamed, “Paula! Call 9-1-1.”
A kick found its way to my ribs and I doubled over in excruciating pain.
Had she heard me?
Would Paula call 9-1-1 or would she think the call had simply dropped?
My assaulter screamed, “What the hell do you think you’re doing parked in front of my center?”
Celia!
Images of the riots on TV flashed in my mind. All of SFPD would be downtown. Was there anyone available to respond to a 9-1-1 call?
Celia’s knee crashed into my face and she seemed to be pushing me back or was I retreating?
Laurie’s face filled my mind and I swung the diaper bag as hard as I could into Celia’s side. She blocked my blow, grabbing the bag out of my hands and pushing me into the birthing center. I landed on the cool marble floor, out of breath and in pain. She threw the bag at me.
Kenny!
Kenny was on his way!
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Celia’s leg move back, gaining momentum for another kick. I rolled out of the way. Her miss only served to infuriate her further; she came at me and drew her leg back for another swipe. This time I was ready. As her leg swung forward, I grabbed it and pulled her off balance.
She struck the floor hard and I scrambled to my feet.
Could I make it out the door and back to the van?
Celia screamed and pushed herself up as I sprinted toward the door. She hurled herself at me, yelling obscenities.
When would Kenny be here?
Fifteen minutes at least. My cell phone was on the street. I had no backup. No weapon, no nothing.
Celia was punching at me and I was scrambling as best as I could to get out of her way.
“The cops are on their way,” I bluffed.
“Liar!” she screamed, knocking into me and throwing me off balance. “You’re going to ruin everything!”
I fell to the floor. This time she came with me, landing on top of me hard and knocking the wind out of me.
She put her knee between my shoulder blades and pinned my arms behind my hand. “You should have stayed out of it,” she said.
Adrenaline shot through me and suddenly I was so furious that I wrung my arms out of her grip and launched myself to my feet. She fell back, momentarily stunned.
Fury boiled up inside me and I flung myself down on her—wrestler style—screaming, “You killed that woman in Miami and took her baby. You sold her baby! You killed her and sold her baby!”
Celia pushed at me repeatedly. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“That’s how you got the money for this remodel!”
She shoved me into the reception console. A packet that had been on top of the counter went flying. My eyes followed it as it landed on the floor. Patches. It was a bunch of medicine patches.
Her face contorted. “And I’m going to kill you!” she spat. “Just like I killed her!” She dove for the package.
The patches.
The drug had been on the nicotine patches. It had never been in a drink. Celia hadn’t needed to be present in order to poison Helene!
Animal instinct overtook me. I pressed against the counter and propelled myself forward through the air, landing on top of her. I pounded my fist into her face. Blood poured from her nose.
“You broke my nose!” she screamed.
My face was wet and I realized I was crying. “You were following me the other day! Your yellow VW bug. You almost crashed into me!”
My hand stung and my body ached, but I wasn’t weeping from the physical pain. I was weeping for fear of my life and grief for the lives lost at the hands of this woman.
Celia twisted to the side and knocked me off her. She scrambled to reach the patches.
I reached the packet before her. “You killed Helene with the patches and you tried to pin it on Bruce by poisoning yourself!”
She slammed her elbow into my side. The packet flew out of my hands as I tried to defend myself against another onslaught.
Celia punched at my face screaming, “You’re damn right I killed her. She was backing out. First she wanted Evelyn’s baby then she didn’t.”
Evelyn!
She punched at me again, this time landing a blow to the side of my head.
My vision blurred.
“After all I went through to get things arranged for her,” Celia spat. “Then she falls in love with that stupid foot doc—wants his kids instead. And what? I’m supposed to be left high and dry? No. Plenty of buyers for that baby. And like I’m going to let her turn me in?”
She pushed at me. I blocked her.
I heard a voice coming from the birth room.
I had to get to Evelyn. The woman in Miami had not lived to hold her baby. And now Evelyn and her baby’s life were on the line.
Celia seemed to momentarily retreat, I struggled to my feet, looking down the hall for Evelyn. When I glanced back at Celia she was clutching the patches in her hand.
Blood streamed from her nose and her smirk both sickened and frightened me.
My eyes locked on the patches, my vision suddenly clear. She peeled one off and dangled it in front of me. “Helene was so addicted to cigarettes I knew she’d use the patches I gave her.” She laughed. “Especially when I told her a proper mother couldn’t smoke. She’d have done anything to be a good mom even if it meant stealing the kid.”
Celia advanced on me, I stepped back.
“I never dreamed she’d use the patches on the night of the cruise. How perfect is that? With me nowhere near her.” Her lips curled and she lunged at me. “But then you—”
I thrust my elbow out using her own momentum against her. She cried out as my elbow connected with her broken nose. She fell to her knees. A moan came from the birthing room. I ran down the passage way. Evelyn was lying on a bed in the birthing room, her head rolling from side to side, a ridiculous smile on her face.
“I’m so high,” she said.
The first effects of fentanyl were like drinking a couple glasses of wine. Helene had seemed so drunk on the cruise; now I realized it had been the drug.
I rushed to Evelyn, but before I could reach her, Celia rammed her shoulder into my back. I stumbled and fell.
“You’re going to die!” she said through her teeth. “You meddling—”
I got to my feet and used my position below her as leverage and head-butted her in the chin with as much force as I could muster.
Fortunately, I have a very hard head.
Hers snapped back and she lost her balance. She stumbled and fell. I heard the door to the center open and Kenny called out.
“Help!” I screamed as I dove toward Evelyn.
“Whoa, whoa,” Evelyn kept repeating.
I pulled three patches off her arm.
How much had she absorbed already?
Kenny flew into the room and stopped short, his eyes bulging out of his head.
Poor kid, only seventeen. What did I expect?
Celia let out an ear-piercing scream and attacked me with new fury. Kenny pulled her off me and shoved her to the ground.
Sirens reverberated from down the block. Kenny and I tried to restrain Celia until the EMTs burst through the doors.
“In the back!” I screamed.
Kenny and I were trying to hold Celia down but she was punching and kicking at us with fury. We scrambled out of the way as one EMT grabbed and restrained her. The other EMT ran to Evelyn’s side.
I rushed to the EMT by Evelyn. “She’s in labor and she’s been given fentanyl. This woman”—I pointed at Celia—“was trying to poison her and take her baby.”
The EMT frowned, looking at me like I was crazy. He pulled out a stethoscope and placed it on Evelyn’s chest.
“You have to get her to the hospital!” I cried.
The EMT continued to evaluate Evelyn.
I felt Kenny’s hands on my arms. “Everything will be okay now, Kate.”
“They have to pump her stomach!” I screamed.
“She’s in active labor,” the EMT said to his partner.
I glanced over to the EMT holding Celia. She’d composed herself in their presence, her face a cold hard mask.
She pulled away from the EMT. “I can deliver the baby.”
“No!” I screamed. “Call Inspector McNearny! She’s killed two people! Call Inspector—”
Evelyn let out a low moan.
Celia rushed to her side.
More sirens sounded from down the street.
The EMT said, “Her heart rate’s too low. We’re losing her.”
More EMTs rushed in. Soon they had Evelyn on a stretcher and into an ambulance with Celia. Kenny and I were ushered to the other ambulance. When we made our way through the lobby of the center, I spotted my diaper bag strewn across the floor. I gathered up my items, including Laurie’s purple puppy, which had fallen out.
I remembered that my cell phone was somewhere in the middle of the street. When I asked the EMT if I could go retrieve it, he gave me a look that would freeze over hell.
We were silent on the ride to the hospital. I was examined by a middle-aged physician, who told me my ribs were bruised where Celia had repeatedly kicked me. He taped them up for me and then I was left to wait with Kenny for Inspector McNearny or Jones in the waiting room.
Please, God, let then send Jones. Please send Jones!
My understanding was that Celia was having her nose set, and given my accusations, she would be held in a separate waiting room.
Suddenly my hand flew to Kenny’s knee. “The Opera! Oh my God! What time do you have to be there?”
Kenny looked at the giant white clock on the wall and smiled. “Half an hour ago.”
I grabbed his shoulders. “Kenny! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Kate. Helping you catch a murderer is much more exciting than—”
“Don’t say it. You should be at the Opera right now.
I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.”
He waved me off. “Nah. This is a much cooler story for my friends.”
We waited in silence. Kenny pulled out his phone and started texting. “Are you already bragging?” I asked.
He laughed.
I thought about Evelyn. We hadn’t seen her since they’d rushed her out of the center. When I arrived at the hospital, I’d asked a nurse about her, but she’d been grim-faced and told me she didn’t know the status of the mother or child.
I thought of Evelyn’s little son, “the biter.” Where was he tonight? Probably with his nanny. Poor little guy, he needed to have his mommy live.
Please God, let them be okay.
I dug into my diaper purse and pulled out Laurie’s puppy. Her toothless grin flashed in my mind. I pressed the puppy’s ear to hear her little coo.
Instead of Laurie’s coo, my voice came out of the recorder:
“The cops are on their way.”
My jaw dropped and I glanced at Kenny.
“Liar! You’re going to ruin everything! You should have stayed out of it.”
Kenny squeezed my arm.
“You killed that woman in Miami and took her baby. You sold her baby! You killed her and sold her baby!”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“That’s how you got the money for this remodel!”
“And I’m going to kill you! Just like I killed her!”
Kenny jumped up. “You got her on tape! You got her on tape!”
The door to the waiting room swung open slightly and I could see Jones’s cropped hair.
Yea! It was Jones! No McNearny!
Jones pushed the door open and walked into the room. The door swung closed behind him only to reopen as McNearny followed him into the room, a tired expression on his face. “Got who on tape?”
My hands were shaking as I replayed the tape for Jones and McNearny.
McNearny listened, a stoic expression on his face.
They took statements from Kenny and me and confiscated Laurie’s little puppy. “Any word on Evelyn and her baby?” I asked.
McNearny and Jones exchanged looks. Jones hung his head.
McNearny’s lips formed a straight line. “They delivered the baby by cesarean. She’s going to be fine.”
My heart stopped. “And Evelyn? What about Evelyn?”
“They don’t know yet, Connolly,” McNearny said. “It’s not looking good.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Thanksgiving

To Do:
1. Cook!!!
I awoke to the phone ringing. I was immediately annoyed. It was bad enough that I’d gotten to bed at midnight only to be woken up every few hours by Laurie’s hunger cries, but now that both of us were sound asleep, to have the shrill sound rupture my dreams was the limit!
“Hello?”
“Kid! You got a write-up in the paper!” Galigani said.
Suddenly being woken up wasn’t so bad.
“I did?”
I swung my feet off the bed and stopped short. Every part of my body ached. There were bruises up and down my legs, and my ribs were stiff where the doctor had taped them.
“Nice big spread, but it’s mostly about your client, The Grizzly,” Galigani said. “He does mention you, though. At the very end. Almost like small print.”
Time to let go of any media darling dreams.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t get involved for the glory,” I said.
“Yeah, because they misspelled your name, too.” Galigani laughed.
I snorted. “Geez. No good deed goes unpunished!”
“What time is dinner?”
The smell of pumpkin pie filled the house. The wind whipped through our chimney as Jim was preparing a fire. He crumpled some newspaper and stacked the logs against each other in an upright triangle. I finished setting the table and lit the candles.
Some heat started to kick out from the fireplace and the house was getting cozy. I played my new Ricky Martin CD, and Laurie snoozed in her bassinet. The doorbell sounded. It was Galigani and Mom standing on my front stoop. Galigani had brought the stuffing and Mom had made the potatoes.
I helped Galigani take everything to the kitchen while Mom woke Laurie.
We sat down at the table and said prayers. Mom was sitting across from me with Laurie in her lap. Jim was at the head of the table and Galigani sat opposite him.
Jim carved the turkey and laid out a delectable platter, alternating the white and dark meat.
He passed the platter to me. “I’m most thankful for my wife and daughter.”
I selected a piece of dark meat and put it on my plate. “I’m most thankful for my lovely peanut, her father, my mother, and my boss.”
I passed the platter to Galigani.
“I’m most thankful to be with such wonderful company tonight and thankful a murderer is behind bars because of our efforts,” Galigani said. “Kid, I’m sure glad you insisted I sponsor you!”
“Wait,” Mom said. “I insisted you sponsor Kate. I’m the insister!”
“Yes, you are, Mom,” Jim said.
“Here’s to justice!” Mom said, holding up her wineglass. Jim followed suit and we all drank to the toast.
Galigani served himself some turkey and passed the tray to Mom.
Mom said, “I’m most thankful that Jim got the turkey in the brine before the EMTs interrupted him with a call about Kate!”
Galigani laughed. I gagged on my wine.
“God, Mom! Aren’t you thankful for Laurie?”
“Of course I am! I’m thankful for all of you!
And
I’m especially thankful that my bunions aren’t bothering me tonight!”
Jim snickered into his napkin.
“And another thing I’m extremely thankful for is that Paula sent the pumpkin pie! It smells delicious!”
I frowned. “How do you know she sent the pie?”
Mom laughed. “Well, I know you didn’t make it and Jim doesn’t bake.”
“Will you pass the potatoes, Vera?” Galigani asked.
Mom handed him the potatoes, and after he served himself, the bowl made its way around the table.
I served myself some stuffing, then shoveled a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my plate. I poured gravy over the turkey and potatoes then reached for the cranberries. Canned.
Who had time to make fresh with a newborn and a new career on their hands?
I cut into my turkey and savored my first bite. It was deliciously moist.
We made small talk during dinner. My thoughts kept drifting back to Evelyn. I was still waiting to hear from someone at the hospital. I’d been calling all day to check on her status, but no one had given me any information.
I thought about the case against Celia. The Grizzly had told me that any criminal defense attorney worth his weight would get that recording disallowed, but he’d promised not to take the case.
I’d spoken with Bruce in the morning. He’d been stunned by the news of the fake adoption but grateful for the update. Of course, with the cops arresting Celia, it meant he was off the hook. He could start rebuilding his life after losing Helene. He vowed that he would help the police build their case against her and wouldn’t rest until she was convicted.
I’d also phoned Margaret, feeling like she was owed some closure. To my surprise she was up to speed having already spoken with Miss No-nonsense. It turned out Howard confessed his affair after receiving a call from McNearny. Margaret was distraught about Evelyn and promised to call me if she had any news before I did.
We finished dinner, then Jim and I cleared the plates to ready the table for dessert. In the kitchen I turned on the coffeemaker.
Jim leaned into me. “I love you, Kate. This is the best Thanksgiving ever because you’re my wife and we have Laurie.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and I hugged him. “I’m so worried about Evelyn. That’s a family that might lose their mommy tonight.”
Jim held me. “You can’t think that way, honey. They saved the baby. I’m sure they’re thankful about that. All we can do now is pray.”
We held each other in silence. After a moment we heard Mom call from the dining room, “Where’s my pumpkin pie?”
I brought out Paula’s magnificent pie and served it at the table with a generous scope of vanilla ice cream on the side. When it was ready, Jim poured coffee and splashed a little Irish Crčme into each cup.
As I sat down to dig into my pie, the phone rang. Jim and I looked at each other expectantly.
“Let it go,” Mom said. “Whoever it is can call back.”
I jumped up. “I can’t. It might be—”
“Kate? It’s Evelyn. Thank you.”