To Do:
1. Call Sara.
2. Clean the house.
3. What does a nanny cost? Do they clean house, too?
4. Look up swim classes for Laurie!
5. Research preschools!
6. Walk on the beach every day!!! It is pathetic that I get out of breath after a few steps!
When I arrived home, the first thing I did was make straight for the washing machine. I pulled off my sneakers and emptied them directly into the mop sink. I was mesmerized by the amount of sand pouring out.
How could my feet fit in there with all that sand?
I peeled off my socks. What was it about Ocean Beach that made this sand so sticky? It clung to my socks and was even between my toes. I put my socks into the washing machine and dumped the contents of the laundry basket, which was next to the machine, inside it.
I heard the upstairs door creak open.
Kate? Jim called from the top of the stairs.
Its me. Im doing laundry. I didnt want to track sand upstairs.
Jim descended the stairs. How was your walk?
Good, but it nearly killed me. Im totally out of shape.
He wrapped his arms around my waist. Dont be so hard on yourself, you just had a baby.
That was weeks ago! I cant believe this woman at eight months pregnant outpaced me.
Jim laughed. Sleep deprivation can do funny things to stamina.
I leaned my head onto his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Thats so nice of you to say, honey, when we both know I need to get my butt in gear and work out.
He kissed my hair. Youll be ready to run with the bulls by spring.
I pulled away from his chest and looked at his face. Speaking of bulls or bulliesthis woman was a piece of work! No wonder they kicked her out of the club. So mean!
Jim laughed. You think everyone is mean, but thats because youre too nice.
Im not nice.
Jim looked incredulous.
Wheres Laurie? I asked.
Upstairs. I left her unsupervised. Im sure shes trashed the place by now.
I made a fist and playfully waved it in his face. Okay, Im nice, but not that nice.
He laughed. Shes asleep in her crib. And by the way, Dr. Alan Lipes office called. They said there was a cancellation for tomorrow, wanted to know if you wanted the spot.
I opened the door to the medical office and peered into the waiting room. It was empty except for the receptionist sitting behind a closed-in glass counter. She was dressed in a white lab coat and had thick short gray hair.
She peered at me over her bifocals.
I smiled. Hi. Im Kate Connolly. I have an appointment with Dr. Alan Lipe.
She studied the appointment book. Yes. May I see your referral slip?
Ooooh. Um. I forgot that.
She tapped the book with the eraser of her pencil. And the referring doctor is . . . ?
Of course, I didnt have one.
Think, Kate, think!
Dr. Green, I lied.
Dr. Green was my ob-gyn, but was the only name I could come up with.
She frowned. Which practice is Dr. Green with?
Uh. I dont remember.
Her lips pursed, she stared at me sternly. I smiled. She got up from her chair in silence and disappeared down a hallway. I remained standing at the counter.
Id made the appointment with the intent of grilling Alan, but I didnt really want him to know Margaret was on to him.
What would I say to him?
A few moments later, the receptionist reappeared in the doorway connected to the hallway. Mrs. Connolly, right this way.
We walked down the hallway and she motioned me into the third door on the left.
The room had only a patient table, a stool, and a small set of drawers. On the wall hung a print of a foot with all the ligaments, joints, and muscles exposed.
I hoisted myself on the table and waited for Alan.
A few minutes passed and then came a knock on the door. It creaked open before I could respond. Alan entered, wearing a blue polo shirt and Dockers. His curly hair was unruly and there were dark circles under his eyes.
He stuck out his hand. Mrs. Connolly, Im Dr. Lipe.
Hello, Alan. I shook his hand. Do you remember me? From the cruise on the other night
Of course, yes. Of course. Terrible night. He moved his head up and down repeatedly as though trying to sift through some memories. Youre a private investigator, correct?
I nodded.
Yes. I recall Margaret saying so. We saw each other again at Helenes service.
Thats right.
He glanced at my feet. What kind of problems are you having? What can I do you for?
Um. I looked at my feet as well. Uh. I just had a baby
Congratulations! When?
Shes seven weeks old.
Wonderful. He smiled, but it did little to light up his face. And your feet are giving you problems?
Yeah. Sort of.
He nodded. Take off your shoes.
I kicked off my Keds and dangled my feet off the table.
He picked up my left foot and squeezed it gently then rotated my foot. My ankle cracked and popped.
Margaret is heartbroken about Helene, I said.
He looked at me for a split second. There was surprise on his face, but he quickly adjusted his expression back to blank. Yes. They were best friends. Tell me about your feet.
Theyre swollen all the time and none of my shoes fit.
He nodded. Thats very common following a pregnancy. Do you have pain?
I didnt. Not really, but not fitting into your shoes didnt seem like a reason to visit a podiatrist, so I said,
Yes.
He dropped my left foot and picked up my right one. He palpated the foot then rotated the ankle. Your feet arent swollen now. Would you say you had a lot of swelling during pregnancy?
Yes, I said.
He seemed so sincere. So caring. So gentle.
For a murderer.
With Helene gone, Margarets probably at a loss. It could put a strain on a marriage, I said.
He dropped my foot as if it had just given him a shock. Typically after pregnancy, pain can be caused by the edema, which put pressure on the structures of the feet and nerves. Even after the edema leaves, there may be pain. He pointed to the print on the wall and started to outline some ligaments. I think you could benefit from a pair of orthotics.
Orthotics?
There was nothing sexy about that. I only wanted to be able to fit into my cute open-toed shoes again.
Umm, they dont really hurt all that much . . .
He looked upset.
Doctor, what do you think happened to Helene the other night? It was all so sudden.
He paled. I dont know.
Its strange, though, isnt it? You were with her when she died, werent you? I tested.
He took a step back and swallowed. Unfortunate set of circumstances. He turned his back on me and steadied himself by putting his hands on the small set of drawers. Shall we schedule you for the prescription orthotics?
He waited for my reply with his back to me.
He was as uncomfortable speaking to me as I had been with Inspector McNearny.
What do you think was the cause of death?
He whipped around, his face set in stone. Im not the medical examiner. Look, are you here about your feet or something else?
I let my feet dangle and furrowed my brows. What else would I be here about?
What are all these questions about? Are you investigating me?
Why would I?
He self-consciously smoothed down his shirt and shifted his eyes around the room. He took a breath. Right. Have Joan schedule you for a follow-up.