Nursing a Grudge is Murder (A Maternal Instincts Mystery) by Diana Orgain Read Free Book Online Page B

remember?”
    “Well, it’s still my time.”
    Galigani snorted.
    “Plus, I’ve always wanted to use the word pro-bono,” I said.
    “What you meant was that
I
would work pro-bono.”
    “I thought you were retired?”
    Galigani laughed. “It’s okay. You can’t expect someone like that to pay a bunch of money to a P.I. Why do you think I drive my rattle-trap of a car? If I wanted to make money at this racket I’d be working for the likes of Brent Miles. Those are the P.I.’s that get the dough.”
    “The ones defending the bad guys?”
    Galigani ran a hand through his hair. “No, the rich guys. Doesn’t matter if he’s guilty or not. And remember, we don’t know anything yet. Brent Miles could turn out to be the good guy.”
    <><><>
    To Do:
    1. Order dust kit!
    2. Figure out what happened to Perry.
    3. Buy Paula a present for new baby.
    4. Get back in shape!
    I slept poorly that night. My nightmares were filled with strange images from the hospital and Melanie’s swollen face. I’d even dreamt about a lost kitten.
    Poor Whiskers!
    My stomach rumbled. I suddenly realized that if I was hungry, then Laurie must be famished. I slipped out of bed and walked down our short hall to the nursery that was doubling as our office.
    Jim was holding Laurie while staring at his computer screen, engrossed in some graphics. Laurie had her tiny fists entangled in his hair, laughing as she pulled. Jim let out an exaggerated yelp every time she did it, which seemed to cause an even greater amount of glee for her.
    “Good morning!” I said.
    Jim swiveled in his chair. “Hi, honey.” He kissed me and passed Laurie to me. “Someone’s been missing you.”
    “No. She seemed perfectly happy with you.”
    Jim smiled. “Oh, you’re just flattering me.”
    I yawned. “Thank you for letting me sleep in. I was exhausted.”
    He nodded. “I know. You’re doing too much. You need to relax. I made you breakfast.”
    I squinted at him, suddenly suspicious. “Wait. You’re letting me sleep in, you’re playing with Laurie and you cooked? Something’s up. Out with it.”
    Jim put a hand over his heart. “I don’t know what you mean. I always make breakfast.”
    I guffawed. “No, you don’t! And you never let me sleep in and you certainly don’t play with the baby.”
    “Whatdaya mean?”
    I leveled a stare at him.
    “Okay, maybe I don’t make breakfast as often as you do, but I do sometimes. And I’ve played with the baby before. She’s just getting more aware of things, so it’s more fun now. Before she was like a blob of goo.”
    I pressed Laurie to my chest. “A blob of goo!”
    Jim laughed. “Well, you know, like a bowl of Jell-O.”
    “That’s worse! You went from blob to Jell-O.”
    “Oh, but a Jell-O-y blob of goo that I love,” Jim said.
    I punched him the shoulder. “I know you’re after something, and sooner or later you’ll spill. But in the meantime, I’m going to scarf down my breakfast.” I walked to the kitchen with Laurie in tow and found some dry toast on a plate and the coffee pot drained to about an inch reserve. “This is it?”
    “What?” Jim called from the office.
    “Dry toast and coffee dregs? That’s what you call breakfast?”
    There was no response from the office.
    Conveniently silent!
    I broke off a piece of the dry toast and gave it to Laurie to gum. She seemed delighted. How ungrateful was I? I should be happy like Laurie; dry toast was better then nothing.
    I smeared butter and some jam on my piece, pondering poor Melanie. I didn’t really have much to go on.
    I moved into the living room and put Laurie on her play mat. I propped her up with a Boppy pillow where she practiced her balance for sitting. She wobbled to the left and then the right, and finally pitched forward, still clutching her piece of dry toast. She squealed out at me in protest, like I was a complete betrayer.
    “Calm down, bunny girl.” I repositioned her and she swayed only a bit, then steadied