Motherhood Is Murder by Diana Orgain Page B

Evelyn was exaggerating. Which, knowing Evelyn, is not at all surprising. I have to find out what happened to Helene. I need your help, Kate.” At this, her eyes filled with tears.
I handed her a napkin off the table. She dabbed at her eyes.
Here was my moment to tell her I didn’t have a license.
It’s nothing to be ashamed of—after all, it’s true. Say it, say it, say it.
“There’s something . . . uh . . . I want—”
“Kate, I have a semiconfession.”
I stopped stuttering and focused on Margaret.
“When I met you and you said you were a PI, I knew I needed to hire you.”
“Hire me for what?”
She sighed. “I’ve suspected for a long time that Alan’s been having an affair. He’s been coming home late and acting distant . . . and . . . well, really the list can go on and on. Point being, I thought I could hire you to follow him. And then maybe, finally, I’d have the truth . . . And . . . Oh God. I feel so guilty.” She broke down and sobbed.
Kenny looked over at us from his table. He made a little sad face showing sympathy then ducked his head again to fiddle with his iPod.
“What do you feel guilty about?” I asked.
“Kate.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “It’s all my fault. I’m scared that it’s my fault.”
“The affair?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Helene!”
“I’m not following you.”
Margaret glanced around the café to see if anyone was listening. At the moment, the only other patron was Kenny, who was vigorously tapping his foot to the beat from his iPod. The barista was refilling the pastry case with chocolate-covered croissants and miniature pumpkin pies. She looked about as interested in our conversation as going to the dentist.
Despite this, Margaret leaned over and whispered, “I think Alan was trying to kill me and instead killed Helene by accident.”
    CHAPTER EIGHT

    Safekeeping

    I fought to control my shock. “What? Why?” I asked. I was stunned by Margaret’s words. “You think your husband is trying to kill you?”
Margaret squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She was still holding Laurie and subconsciously pulled her closer.
“Why do you think that?”
She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward in the chair, and recounted the evening for me. “While we were getting ready for the cruise, Alan and I kept bickering. Everything was going wrong. Remember we were late? I had confronted him about the affair—well, my suspicions about it, and of course, he denied it. But he got very angry, and even though he denied it . . . I know there’s something going on. He didn’t want to go on the cruise at all. But we never get any time alone together anymore so I forced the issue.”
She shrugged. “I guess I thought if I cooled my heels and just showed him we could have fun together that he would fall in love with me again.”
I listened to Margaret in silence. Kenny got up from his table and wiggled his fingers at me and then at the barista on his way out. The barista waved back at Kenny, then looked at our table to see if we needed her. When she noticed we seemed rooted to our chairs, she took off to the back room.
Margaret wiped her eyes. “We left the house, then Alan doubled back saying he forgot something. When I asked him what—he got very upset and started acting so strange—that I dropped it.”
“Just because he was mad at you doesn’t mean he was trying to kill you,” I said.
She put her hand to forehead and rubbed her temple. “There’s more. On the cruise we were at the bar—Helene, Bruce, Alan, and I.” She glanced around the café. “Alan bought the drinks, he grabbed mine from the bar, and I can’t remember exactly—but he seemed to hold on to it for a while, then he sort of made a big deal about which one was mine. Said mine was a double and made a stupid joke about me needing it to loosen up.”
I nodded and waited for her to continue.
“Then Sara and her husband came over and the men all started talking about investments or whatever. And Helene and I were chatting and, I don’t recall exactly, but