Nursing a Grudge is Murder (A Maternal Instincts Mystery) (2 page)

I nodded. “Are you going to do a review of this place?”

“If I have time.” Jill shrugged. “Maybe. It’s just that something’s happened recently that’s kind of stuck in my craw.”

I waited for her to continue, but instead of saying anything she rubbed at her chin.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I reviewed Brent Miles’ latest restaurant. Or should I say his
attempt
at a restaurant.” She made a face indicating how lacking she’d actually found it. “Anyway, he called me. It was very…well, frightening—”

“Frightening? What happened?”

“He threatened me.” Jill leaned across the table closer to me. “He warned me that I need to recant the review. Said I better make it seem sincere or else.”

“Or else what?”

She raised an eyebrow at me and shrugged. “I told him to stuff it. Just because he owns half of San Francisco he thinks everyone is ready to kiss his ass. Well, he can kiss mine now, because I’m not recanting anything!”

Her tone surprised me. I had always known she was tough but now she seemed downright ferocious.

The hostesses with the frizzy red hair returned with two steaming mugs in her hands. She placed my coffee in front of me, sloshing hot liquid over the top and onto the table. I pulled Laurie away protectively.

The waitress didn’t even notice; she merely put Jill’s mug in front of her and asked, “Ready to order?”

Jill smiled up at her. “Not yet.”

The waitress smiled back.

Well, there you go. Jill got smiles, I got a coffee mess.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” the waitress said. She spun around and attended to the other moms that were camped out on a large leather couch in the corner of the tea house. One mom leaned in and whispered something to the waitress, then they all turned and stared at us.

I lifted my mug and sighed as I placed it back down into the puddle of coffee on the table. I needed another hand. “Want to hold Laurie?” I asked.

Jill quickly glanced at her immaculate blouse. “Um, yeah. Sure.”

She didn’t look at all sure.

I reached into the hulking diaper bag that was always with me now and pulled out a clean spit-up rag and handed it to Jill.

She looked relieved as she placed it onto her shoulder and took Laurie.

I quickly wiped up the liquid on the table and watched in horror as Laurie batted a hand dangerously close to Jill’s hot chocolate. The other hand had already found its way into Jill’s hair.

Jill grimaced.

I finished mopping up the coffee and much to Jill’s relief took Laurie back, who squealed like a demon.

“Tell me more about your experience with Brent Miles,” I said, hoping to distract Jill from Laurie’s wailing.

“Oh no, let’s not talk about him. He’s boring.” Jill’s eyes roved out the window and she frowned.

I followed her gaze out the window. “What?” I asked.

The man with the skull cap was still on the corner. He seemed to be staring right at us. A chill ran up my spine and I hugged Laurie to me.

“That guy is still there,” I said.

Jill fluttered a hand around dismissing him.

“What do you think he's still doing there?” I asked.

Jill shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s probably waiting for someone.”

I stared at him through the glass. He took something out of his pocket and looked down at it, most likely a phone. Jill was probably right; in a few seconds whoever he was waiting for would turn up. I tried to ignore him even though my P.I. senses were firing like crazy.

“He gives me the creeps,” I muttered.

Jill turned away from the window. “I have news.” She glanced at the swinging doors and whispered. “I got my own show over at the Foodie Network.”

“What?” I whispered back, only my whisper was so loud, it bordered on being a cheer.

Jill’s hand covered her lips, signaling me to keep my voice down.

“That’s awesome!” I said, this time more quietly.

She nodded at me. “I just came from the studio. The set is amazing!”

The swinging doors to the back opened as our waitress walked through them. She stopped momentarily to check in on the moms in the corner.

“Shoot,” I said. “We’d better order or she might yell at me.”

Jill snorted and flipped her menu over.

I scanned the list. I was hopeless under pressure. I only made out words like saucy, spicy, savory and hot. It told me nothing.

The waitress stood before us poised with paper and pen.

I decided to order whatever Jill did, which turned out to be the Mediterranean Panini: prosciutto ham, fresh basil, tomato and feta.

Sounds good to me.

“Same for me,” I said.

The waitress nodded at me. I’d just made her life easier and I was somewhat in her good graces now. She retreated through the swinging doors.

As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Jill leaned in and whispered urgently. “I can’t let Brent Miles know about the show. He can ruin things for me, Kate.”

The skin on my arms turned to goose bumps. “Ruin things for you? How?”

Before she could answer, the sound of a dog barking erupted out of Jill’s purse. I stared at it, surprised.

Jill giggled. “Like my ring tone?” She pulled her Tory Burch bag onto her lap and began to dig through the front pocket. “Brent Miles is weird, Kate.” She pulled out her phone and grimaced. “Egad, I hope it isn’t him calling right now!”

The vision of the skull cap man holding his cell phone flashed in my mind. I twisted in my chair to look across the street.

Skull cap man was gone.

“UC Med Center,” Jill said.

I turned back to her. She was staring at her phone display an expression on her face somewhere between puzzled and cautious.

“I missed the call,” she said flatly.

I grimaced. A hospital calling couldn’t be good news, could it? Unless it was a message from her doctor, then it might be. Only judging by the look on Jill’s face, it didn’t seem hopeful. “Maybe they’ll leave a message,” I said.

Jill shook her phone as if that would speed up the voicemail alert function. “I hope everything is all right with Perry. He went hiking this morning.” Her lips twisted and her forehead creased as she thought for a moment. “I hope he didn't sprain an ankle or something."

I nodded reassuringly. “And who is Perry?”

Her face lit up with a smile. “He is my latest conquest. He’s hot, hot, hot Kate. I can’t wait for you to meet him. 6’4’’, sandy blond hair, dimpled chin. Looks straight out of a Pendleton catalogue.”

I laughed. “You usually go for the short, bald type.”

Jill almost snorted out her hot chocolate, then clamped a napkin to her mouth. After a second she cleared her throat and said, “I do not.”

I laughed again. “What about Henry?”

Jill chuckled. “I was 16 for God’s sake, and he wasn’t bald. He was…”

“Bald. He was bald. Even at 17, he had a receding hairline.”

“Henry was very sweet. I can’t believe you have such a cruel memory.”

I feigned innocence. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with short, bald guys. I’m just saying I thought they were your type.”

“Nobody’s type is short and bald.”

“Let’s see, there was Henry, then Richard, Brandon, Mitchell—”

“Okay, shut up. Maybe looks aren’t that important. All the guys you mentioned were like, artistic, poets, you know?”

It was my turn to snort.

Jill pointed a finger at me. “And you’re forgetting Gunter. Remember him?”

“Who could forget Gunter? He was a Nordic god.”

Jill raised her eyebrows at me. “Only he was a little jerky. Perry is just as hot as Gunter, but sweet.”

She blushed.

“Oh. A little rosy around the edges, are you? Is it love? How long have you been seeing each other?”

“A few months,” she smiled. “We met at Bottle Top downtown. Do you know it?”

I shook my head. “Please, I don’t get out.”

She laughed. “You’re out now.”

I waved her off. “This is different. It’s a baby-friendly place. What is Bottle Top, a club?”

“No, a swanky restaurant I reviewed,” Jill said.

“So it’s love, then?” I pressed.

“I gave it a pretty good review.”

I laughed. “I meant Perry.”

She smiled. “Him, too! I give him a
great
review!”

“Wedding bells?” I asked.

She blushed. “You know what, Kate? Maybe. Maybe, finally, yes.”

Her phone beeped and she glanced at the screen, then frowned. She held up a finger. “One second, okay?”

I waved a hand at her. “Of course.”

She tapped at the screen, then pressed the phone to her ear.

My stomach rumbled and I fidgeted with my water glass. When was my lunch going to arrive? The waitress hadn’t even brought a bread basket!

I laughed to myself suddenly, thinking if I were a restaurant critic, I would be as harsh as Jill. I absently wondered what she liked about this place. Yes, the atmosphere was cozy and kid friendly, but where was the food, for God’s sake?

Jill covered her mouth with her hand. I watched her face. It didn’t look like good news.

Our waitress approached with steaming plates in hand. As she placed the dishes in front of us, Jill pushed back from the table.

“Kate. I’m so sorry. I have to go. Perry’s at UC. He fell from Painted Rock.”

“What? Is he okay?”

Painted Rock was a cliff on the north side of San Francisco. It was a featured attraction on the Land’s End hike that ran from Ocean Beach and Sutro Baths all the way to the Legion of Honor. There were many notorious cliffs, one of which was Painted Rock, which boasted some of the most spectacular views of the Marin Headlands and the Golden Gate Bridge. The cliff literally dangled over the Pacific. A fall from there could be grave.

“I don’t know.” Jill pulled a credit card from her purse.

I waved her away. “I got it, don’t worry. Do you want me to go with you?”

“Oh, thank you, Kate. But no, you have the baby. You can’t bring her to a hospital.” Her face crinkled at the word
hospital
and I could only guess what was rushing through her mind. She added, “I’ll call you tonight.”

She leaned over to kiss my cheek, then rubbed Laurie’s knee. “Goodbye little baby. I hope to see you soon.”

I nodded and watched her leave, an uneasiness overcoming me. I looked at the corner. Skull cap man was back, and this time he trailed after Jill.

Chapter Two

Man!

Now I needed to pay immediately and the waitress had vanished again. I placed Laurie in her infant carrier, then fished around the massive diaper bag for my wallet. Why didn’t I have a small, cute purse like Jill?

I rooted past the diaper wipes and a pacifier.

Oh right, fashion purses don’t hold much baby paraphernalia.

Then I pushed aside my binoculars, and an UZI tactical self defense pen…

Fashion purses probably don’t fit much P.I. equipment, either.

I finally located my wallet and peeked inside. I had $17. Not nearly enough to pay for the chichi lunch. Probably not even enough to pay for the coffee drinks these days.

I pulled out my phone and messaged Jill:

S
KULL CAP MAN IS ON YOUR TAIL
. I
WILL TRAIL YOU
.

I rose and walked toward the back of the restaurant. “Hello?” I called out.

Our waitress appeared and I handed her my credit card. “I have to leave immediately. Can you ring me up?”

She made a face. “Is something wrong with the food?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just personal business.”

“Can I wrap it up for you?”

“No. Thank you.”

The waitress froze, then slowly she looked over my shoulder at the moms in the corner and then leveled a glare at me. “Are you a reviewer?”

“What? No. I just need to leave.”

I refrained from turning around and staring at the moms behind me. Maybe they had ratted out Jill, only somehow the message had gotten confused and now I was the target.

The waitress clutched my credit card and squinted at me. “Okay,” she said, drawing the word out unnecessarily. “One minute.”

Laurie began to fidget in her carrier seat. I returned to the table to pack up my purse. The moms in the corner were watching me. My phone rang. I answered quickly, expecting Jill, but instead my best friend Paula’s voice filled the line.

“I’m in labor!” Paula screamed out.

“Yippee!” I hooted.

“Yippee? This is real pain, sister.”

Suddenly a stern looking man strode out from the back room clutching my credit card.

The moms on the couch began packing up their gear.

“Do you have a ride to the hospital?” I asked Paula.

Laurie squirmed out of the carrier and onto the floor.

“Uh…hold on,” I said partly to Paula and partly to the stern man.

Paula screamed into my ear. “Hold on? Hold on to what? You’re actually putting a woman in labor on hold?”

I picked Laurie up; she began to cry.

My phone beeped with an incoming call, but I didn’t dare tell Paula to hold again.

The stern looking man thrust my credit card at me.

Was I over my limit?

“Are you Jill Harrington?”

I shook my head at him and glanced at my phone. Jill was beeping in. I pivoted my body so the man wouldn’t be able to see my phone screen.

He frowned. “Well, then you go by another name. Maybe you’re Carol McCarthy? You’re a crit, though.” He pointed at my card. “You’re not fooling anyone with this pseudonym! Kate Connolly? Please."

The waitress came out from the back and angled her phone at me. “I’ve got her picture now, Donald, don’t worry. We’ll be able to post this online and warn everyone about her.”

Laurie wailed louder and I pressed the phone to my ear, trying to ignore everything, only now Paula was wailing, too. “Paula, can you get to the hospital on your own?”

She took three short breaths, then said, “Yes, but I need you to pick up Danny.”

Danny was Paula’s two-year-old son, and our plan had always been for him to stay with me when she went to the hospital.

“UC won’t let him into the maternity ward without another adult present,” Paula continued. “David’s flight’s been delayed and I can’t reach—”