Murder of a Cranky Catnapper (20 page)

“Did anyone stay with the car?” Wally asked, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah.” Giggling, Skye buried her face in her hands. “Evidently, AJ refused to ride in the bed of a pickup, so he stayed.”

“What time did the fiancé make it back to the house?” Wally asked, getting to his feet.

“According to Yolanda, AJ rolled in round one thirty, but I wasn't able to really question him directly.”

She frowned. She probably should have tried harder to talk to AJ alone.

As if reading her mind, Wally said, “I'll have Quirk get ahold of him and ask if he saw anything.” Wally jotted a note on his pad. “Chantal wasn't too precise about when the break-in actually occurred. She said it was around two, so he might have still been there when it happened.”

“Odd that Chantal doesn't know exactly what time it was,” Skye murmured.

“She doesn't wear a watch and her cell was in her purse,” Wally said.

Skye raised a skeptical brow. Wouldn't Chantal have glanced at the clock when she heard the first sounds of the break-in? Was she somehow connected to the attempted robbery? No. That didn't make any sense. If it was an inside job, she would have made certain that they got the money. Unless the cash wasn't what they were after. But what else could someone want at the Legion?

Skye opened her mouth to share her thoughts, but Wally looked at his watch again and said, “I need to go or I'll miss Zello.”

“Sure. I'll see you at home.” Skye scooted to the edge of the booth, but with a full stomach, she couldn't quite gain the momentum to get up.

“I should be back around eight or nine.” Wally reached down and helped Skye stand. “I'll walk you to your car.”

Looking down at their intertwined hands, she shivered. She loved him so much.

They deposited their trash in the bin and walked outside, where Wally opened the Bel Air's door for her and said, “Get some rest.”

“Don't work too late.” Skye stared into his eyes. “You need rest, too.”

“I'll be home as soon as I finish with Zello.” Wally leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. “Maybe if you take a short nap, you can stay awake a little longer once we go to bed.” He pinned her with a sharp look. “Or we can talk about why you don't want to.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away.

When the rats infest the palace, a lame cat is better than the swiftest horse.

—CHINESE PROVERB

T
wo hours later, Skye heard the front door open. Putting aside the book she'd been reading, she transferred Bingo from her lap to the cushion of the sunroom sofa, then hurried to greet Wally in the foyer. The minute that he spotted her, his warm brown eyes lit up and he quickly met her halfway down the hall.

Folding her in his arms, he ran his hands up and down her back and murmured, “You look amazing. When did you get the new nightie?”

“When I went shopping with Trixie. She insisted that I buy it.”

Wally pressed his lips to hers and whispered, “Thank her for me.”

As soon as she had gotten home from McDonald's, Skye had scoured the Internet searching for information on how to rev up her libido. It was time to either solve the problem or talk about it. She preferred the former to the latter.

One blog written by a woman who experienced a similar issue during her pregnancy had really resonated with Skye. The site had listed all the reasons women's desire waned when she was expecting. It had
explained that the constant fatigue of sleepless nights and carrying around extra pounds took their toll. As did feeling unattractive and worrying about hurting the baby.

During the time Wally had been busy interviewing Tony Zello, Skye had taken the blogger's advice. She power napped, showered, and then curled her hair. Slipping on her new black mesh baby doll nightgown, she felt sexy for the first time since she'd really started to show.

Wanting to retain that feeling, Skye read a few chapters of a great new romance she'd just picked up at Tales and Treats. The book was about a good girl who was determined to be bad, and the love scenes were smoking hot. It also didn't hurt that the cruise setting reminded Skye of her honeymoon and her own sizzling experiences.

Now as Wally deepened his kiss, she returned it with a wild abandon that she hadn't felt in months. He pulled her closer, her new curves molding to his muscular body. She could smell the sweat of his hard day's work and it turned her on even more than his usual scent of woodsy aftershave and spicy shampoo.

Blood rushed south and she gasped for air. As Wally rocked Skye's world with his fingers and tongue, the radio attached to his epaulette crackled.

The disembodied voice said, “Officer Martinez reports that the subject is pulling into the Laurel Hospital. Please advise if she should follow him into the building or keep an eye on his car.”

Skye stiffened in Wally's arms. Her mother's words were like a cold shower. Too many memories of teenage kisses interrupted by May switching on the front porch's floodlight and announcing it was time to come inside made it difficult for Skye to ignore her mom's voice.

Wally swore, then tugging Skye closer, he continued to caress her as he unclipped the radio from his shirt
and pressed the button to talk. “Have Martinez stay with the vehicle.” Raising a brow at Skye, he said, “I doubt that Lynch's private club is inside a hospital.” He frowned. “Zello's meeting must be legit.”

“I agree,” Skye said, then trying not to lose the mood, she nuzzled his neck as he unbuckled his leather utility belt, loosened his collar, and took off his tie. “But let's forget about the case.”

“Works for me.” Wally bent his head to nibble at her earlobe.

“And that works for me,” Skye sighed as a shiver raced up her spine.

“How about this?” Wally pressed openmouthed kisses down her throat as he fumbled with the halter tie of her baby doll nightgown.

“Oh, yeah.” Skye breathed, adoring the feeling of her husband's lips and fingers exploring her body. “That's good, too.”

When Wally slid his palm down her stomach and edged beneath the elastic of the baby doll's matching bikinis, Skye took his hand and towed him up the stairs. There was no need to stand around in the drafty foyer when they had a king-size four-poster with the covers turned down ready for anything they might like to try.

Skye dimmed the lights and hit the remote. Soft music poured from the sound system that Wally had recently installed, and as Coldplay's “Yellow” washed over them, Skye helped Wally shed his clothes. He made quick work of her panties, which was all she still had on, then he stretched out on the bed and drew her on top of him.

She nibbled from his pecs down to his waist, then raised her head to look into her husband's eyes. His lids were at half-mast as he watched her trace the smooth
olive skin stretching over his abs. Purring her pleasure, she continued her journey southward.

He shivered as she nuzzled the sensitive skin there. Finally, Wally growled and reversed their positions so that she was lying on the mattress, and after that, Skye lost track of time.

Much later, when Wally and Skye lay sated, cuddling under the sheet, she asked, “How did your interview with the good doctor go?”

“He seemed cooperative.” Wally traced circles on her bare shoulder.

“What did he say about Lynch's false promises?” Skye laced her right hand with Wally's left. “Did he admit to knowing about the private club?”

“Zello claimed that he had never heard of it.” Wally turned on his side and spooned Skye against him. “As to Lynch's campaign promises, the doctor seemed convinced that the guy would choose his pet cause to support.”

“Did you believe Dr. Zello was telling the truth?” Skye wiggled until her entire backside was pressed against her husband's front.

“It's a moot point since Zello had an alibi for Sunday night.” Wally stroked Skye's stomach. “He had receipts for a weekend trip to New York. He was speaking at some medical convention.”

“Mmm.” Skye had almost dozed off when she forced her eyes open and said, “We're running out of suspects. I sure hope it isn't the ex-wife. From what Palmer's mother said, she's had enough troubles.”

*   *   *

The next morning, the late nights and stress-filled days caught up with Skye and Wally and they slept through their alarm. Lucky for them, Bingo jumped on the bed demanding his breakfast or they might have stayed in dreamland until noon. When Skye saw how late it was,
she asked Wally to take care of the hungry feline, while she got ready to go.

In under twenty minutes, Skye showered, scraped her hair into a ponytail, and threw on one of her new maternity dresses. Wally had beaten her time by half and they were in his Thunderbird speeding toward Kankakee by eight fifteen.

Skye had chosen the obstetrician's first appointment of the day hoping to be back at school by lunch. Now she wondered if they'd make it to the doctor's office by nine o'clock.

As they drove, Skye applied concealer, blush, and lip gloss. There was no way she was letting Dr. Johnson see how pale and tired she looked. Finished with her primping, she glanced away from the vanity mirror at Wally and smiled, happy that he'd insisted on accompanying her. May would have been thrilled to take her, but Skye didn't want to hear her mother's opinion of her weight, dress size, or other figure flaws.

There was a slight chance May wouldn't criticize Skye's appearance. She had been very supportive during their last conversation. But Skye wasn't betting any money that the change in her mother was permanent. Years of nitpicking wouldn't be reined in overnight.

Thanks to Wally's speedy driving—he seemed to forget he wasn't driving a squad car in hot pursuit of a criminal—they arrived at the medical office with a few minutes to spare. Skye was given a specimen cup and sent to the bathroom. After producing the required sample, not a problem since it seemed she had to pee every five minutes, she and Wally were shown into an examination room.

Once they had all squeezed into the tiny space, the perky nurse said, “Let's get your weight.”

“Let's not,” Skye muttered under her breath, glancing at Wally. Could she ask him to step out? Heck. It
wasn't as if he hadn't heard how fat she was on their last visit to the obstetrician. Surely, she hadn't gained that much.

The nurse shook her head and pointed to the scale. “No need to be shy.”

“Easy for you to say since you're probably a size 2,” Skye retorted, then kicked off her shoes, stepped on the scale, and sucked in her stomach.

Yes.
She knew holding her breath wouldn't make her any lighter, but she couldn't fight the impulse. She watched the digital numbers shoot upward at an alarming speed. When they finally stopped, she was relieved that she'd only put on two pounds.

Phew!
Dr. Johnson should be okay with that.

The nurse took Skye's blood pressure and temperature, then after entering all the information she'd gathered into the exam room's computer, she handed Skye an ugly turquoise gown and said, “Once you've changed, flip the switch by the door to indicate that you're ready. The phlebotomist will come in to draw your blood, and the doctor will be with you after that.”

As soon as the nurse left, Skye quickly removed her dress, put on the gown, and said to Wally, “Go ahead and flip the switch.”

Skye sat on the examination table and Wally stood next to her holding her hand. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She loved her obstetrician, but having any kind of medical exam still made her nervous.

He ran his thumb over her knuckles and said, “How're you holding up?”

“Apart from my iatrophobia”—Skye wrinkled her nose—“I'm fine.”

“Why do you think that you're so afraid of doctors?” Wally asked.

“Mostly because they always yell at me about being
too fat.” Skye narrowed her eyes. “Whatever issue I go in to see them about from a cold to a broken bone, they blame the problem on my weight.”

“But you said that Dr. Johnson wasn't like that.”

“She isn't.” Skye blew out a breath. “It's just the years of being chewed out have conditioned me to expect the worse.”

“You don't have to worry.” Wally winked. “I'll protect you.”

Before Skye could respond, the phlebotomist arrived to draw her blood, and as she left, Dr. Johnson walked into the room. The obstetrician was an attractive woman in her early forties with short blond hair and warm blue eyes. She wore a cute pair of black and white capris and a black T-shirt under her white jacket.

“Skye, Wally, good to see you.” She moved to the sink and washed her hands. “Everything going okay? Any problems or concerns?”

“Juniorette and I are doing great.” Skye smiled and patted her baby bump.

“Junior,” Wally teased, “might be fine, but Skye's been having painful charley horses. Is there anything you can give her to help with that?”

“Hmm.” Dr. Johnson threw her used paper towel in the trash and approached Skye. “I'll check your calcium, magnesium, and potassium levels, but if they're okay, it's probably muscle fatigue. Make sure you don't get dehydrated since that will increase the spasms.”

“Okay.” Skye glanced at Wally and grinned. He had his memo book out and was taking notes.

“Please lie down.” Dr. Johnson helped Skye recline, then said, “Today we're going to listen to your baby's heartbeat and measure your fundal height. The height of your fundus should roughly equal the weeks of your pregnancy.”

“Will that tell us the due date?” Wally asked.

“It'll help, but the ultrasound will give us a more accurate estimate.” Dr. Johnson warmed up her stethoscope, then moved Skye's gown aside and pressed the instrument to her stomach. After a minute she smiled and said, “Your baby's got a strong heartbeat.”

“Are you doing the ultrasound just to determine the due date?” Skye asked. “Because remember, we don't want to know the sex.”

“I'm going to check for any physical abnormalities and confirm the location of the placenta, as well as measure your baby, which will provide the best information about your due date.”

“Okay. But even if there is a physical problem, we're carrying the baby to term.” Skye glanced worriedly at Wally and he nodded his agreement.

“Of course, but in some cases we can correct an issue in utero,” Dr. Johnson reassured her, then said, “I'll be right back.”

The doctor stepped out of the room and a few seconds later she returned followed by a woman wheeling a portable ultrasound. The sonographer stopped by the examination table, introduced herself, then squirted Skye's stomach with a clear gel. As the tech moved the wand, Dr. Johnson pointed to the screen and explained what Skye and Wally were seeing.

Once the test was finished and the sonographer left, Dr. Johnson said, “Everything looks fine and our best estimate is that you're twenty weeks along.”

“So that means I'm due . . .” Skye counted on her fingers. “The end of September, right?”

“That would be full term,” Dr. Johnson agreed. “But first babies rarely keep to the schedule.” She smiled. “Speaking of which, have you two signed up for childbirth classes yet?”

“No.” Skye and Wally exchanged a guilty glance, and Skye said, “We'll do that once school is out.”

“I highly recommend that you do.” Dr. Johnson raised a brow. “The lessons will teach you about the stages of labor, as well as relaxation and pain management techniques.”

“It's on my summer to-do list,” Skye assured the doctor.

“See that it's checked off that list soon.” Dr. Johnson pointed her pen, then grinned. “Next visit we'll do a vaginal culture to screen for beta strep infection and a glucose screening test to check for gestational diabetes.” As she walked out the door, she said, “Call me immediately if anything changes.”

“Will do,” Wally said.

Skye re-dressed and she and Wally headed for the parking lot. As she slid into the car, Skye's stomach growled. They hadn't had time to eat and she was starving.

“I think Junior wants breakfast.” Wally grinned. “How does Bakers Square sound?”