Christietown (18 page)

Gambino looked at me for help.

“It’s for breast-feeding,” I said in a low voice.

“Sorry. I think I’m a bit nervous,” Jackie said. “This is all kind of strange for me, this blended-family thing. My parents were married for thirty-two years. Never spent a night apart. They were so in love.” She blushed prettily.

“That’s what we all want,” Gambino said, looking at me.

“Well, then,” I said. “I guess I’ll check out the cribs now.”

Gambino sat down on a nursing ottoman at Jackie’s feet. “Good idea.”

“Don’t get up or anything. You just sit there and relax,” I said.

He stretched his muscular arms over his head. “It has been a long day.”

“Being a policeman must be so rewarding,” gushed Jackie.

I left the two of them to their own devices. It was time to get this show on the road. There were at least a dozen models on the floor, several with prices in the four digits. Then you had to choose a finish. I ran my hand across the samples, which were mounted on a pegboard. Their names sounded like fla
vors of breakfast cereal: honey, pecan, wheat, cherry, summer harvest. Made me hungry. I glanced at the clock over the cash register. Mickey was pointing to the 9 and Minnie was hover
ing between the 6 and the 7. Where were Annie and Vincent? I hoped they hadn’t gotten lost. Annie was going to hate this place, of course. Her version of shopping was to head over to the thrift store in Topanga Canyon, where she and Vincent lived, and grab an armful of anything that didn’t have buttons hanging off it. For most of the last nine months, she’d lived
in ballet slippers, pajama bottoms, and Vincent’s shirts. For parties, she wore an old hippie skirt of Lael’s with a drawstring waist. It was apple green with little silver stars all over it. My pregnant pixie.

“How are we doing here?” asked Snow White.

“I’m wondering what the delivery time is on this one.” I pointed to a crib that was simple without being spartan. The tiny comforter draped over it was bumblebee themed, yellow and black.

“Four to six weeks is standard, ten percent extra for a rush job. But don’t forget, Baby will be sleeping in the bassinet first, next to . . . Mommy and Daddy, is it?” She looked at me for confirmation.

“That’s right.”

“In this town, you never know,” Snow White said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t forget, you’ll be needing sheets and waterproof pads for the bassinet, in addition to flat sheets, fitted sheets, waterproof pads, bumpers, dust ruffle, mobile, toy cradle, and diaper stacker for the crib. It’s all there on your checklist.”

Along with car-seat tighteners, car-seat levelers, stroller shields, crib tents, sleep positioners, two-way mirrors, wire-mesh gates, high-chair hooks, nursery monitors, electric bottle warmers, electric baby-wipe warmers, shock guards, drawer latches, hypoallergenic pads for supermarket carts, and enter
tainment centers, which I think were Baby’s version of flat-screen TVs. The
Bambi
mural on the wall didn’t fool me. This place was evil.

“This is our top-selling crib,” said Snow White, directing my attention to a large structure with Corinthian columns. I noted the straight-from-the-manufacturer price of $1,699.00. “The side rail is supposed to go down to save Mommy and
Daddy’s backs.” She gave it a delicate little kick with her espa
drille.

“Sometimes, you have to use force,” I said, kicking it for all it was worth.

“Lovely,” said Richard, who’d appeared from out of nowhere.

“This is my ex-husband,” I said to Snow White. “He likes to sneak up on unsuspecting women.”

He crumpled up his paper cup of cocoa and tossed it into the trash. “Why do I bother? Don’t answer that. I’d like a word with you.”

“Fine.”

Once we reached the grooming center, he said, “Are you out of your mind? Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you dragged poor Dot to a murder scene? You live in some kind of sick fantasy world and I don’t want Dot anywhere near you. And why would you be cozying up to my future mother-in-law anyway? Answer me!”

“Guess what, Richard?” I was furious. “I don’t have to answer you. You aren’t my husband anymore, and haven’t been for years, thank god. So don’t try that shit on me again.”

“Language, Cece,” he said snarkily.

“Shut up,” I replied. “As for Dot, I’m sorry I involved her. Truly sorry. She’s a lovely woman, and I never meant her any harm.”

Snow White was back. “Sorry to interrupt, but you don’t want to overlook this.” She handed me a small plastic pouch. Not getting a response, she looked back and forth at the two of us, then said in a tiny voice, “Number sixty-two on your checklist? The deluxe oral kit?”

Richard glared at her. “Would you
please
!”

As she made herself scarce, I called out, “You’d have left him, too, admit it!”

“This isn’t funny, Cece,” said Richard. “The police have been grilling Dot mercilessly. Like she’s a suspect!”

“Oh, you mean like I’m a suspect? Thanks for calling my mother, by the way, and getting her all worked up.”

“Stop changing the subject,” he said. “Jackie and I are livid.”

“Jackie didn’t look livid.”

“That’s because she’s got class.”

“She was talking to my boyfriend about breasts!”

Suddenly, Gambino was at my side. He towered a full half-foot over Richard, who didn’t like competition.

“Hey,” Gambino said, flinging an arm around my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

I smiled up at him. “Great. Detective Peter Gambino meet Professor Richard Durand.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Gambino with dazzling aplomb.

“Yes, I’m sure you have,” said Richard.

“Glad we can all put aside our differences and be here for Annie and Vincent. They’re great kids. I’m sure you’re very proud of them, Rick.”

Richard was suddenly at a loss for words. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked an imaginary rock.

“What’s wrong,
Rick
?” I asked.

“Look, Cece,” said Gambino, taking my arm. “The kids are finally here.”

Annie and Vincent were being dragged our way by Alex
ander, Vincent’s three-year-old son by a bad-seed ex-girlfriend. Vincent and Annie had fought for custody and won. I held out my arms and little Alexander flew into them.

“Your back feels cold,” Alexander said, burying his face in my shoulder. “You can borrow my sweatshirt if you want.”

“Hi,” said Annie. “Sorry we’re late. This place is a trip, isn’t it, Mom? But it does make the whole baby thing seem real.” Annie was in her pixie outfit and smiling her beautiful smile. Richard had found Jackie and was holding her hand. I thought I saw a tear in his eye. Impossible.

Alexander scrambled out of my arms and started doing somersaults across the floor.

Vincent said, “This is something I didn’t think I’d ever see, all of us together like this. It means the world to Annie.” That was him telling us to be on good behavior.

“You okay, hon?” Annie asked Alexander. He’d bumped his head on a jogging stroller and after a moment’s careful reflection, had begun to sob. Annie knelt down to kiss him, which isn’t easy three weeks before your due date. Struggling to her feet, she tossed the checklist into the trash. “Can’t the baby just sleep with us?”

Snow White’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Absolutely not! Co-sleeping is frowned upon by the medical establishment.”

“What about this?” asked Vincent, holding up a wicker basket lined in checkered flannel. “Let’s just get this and go out for ribs. There’s this famous barbecue joint somewhere around here. Do you know the place I’m talking about?” he asked Snow White.

“Dr. Hogly Wogly’s Tyler Texas Bar-B-Cue,” she replied. “It’s on Sepulveda Boulevard.” She glanced up at a picture on the wall, then looked away guiltily. It was the Three Little Pigs.

“That’s the place,” said Vincent. “We’re done here. We’ll take this.” He plucked the plastic pouch out of my hands. “And this.” He pulled a tiny sheepskin rug off the wall.

“Ooh, soft,” said Annie, rubbing her face against it
.
“Absorbent, calming,” murmured Snow White
.
“Jackie’s a vegetarian,” said Richard
.
“Richard,” said Jackie. “Don’t make a fuss.
”
“We’ll take your top-selling crib,” said Richard. I looke
d

over at Vincent, then decided not to argue.

Snow White, visibly gratified, said, “The macaroni salad at Dr. Hogly Wogly’s has these little slivers of celery in it. It’s delicious. No meat.”

Alexander looked at her and asked, “Where are the seven

dwarfs?” “Alexander,” said Vincent. “It isn’t polite to stare.” I was staring, too, at Gambino and Richard. I could just

picture them sitting across from each other in a vinyl booth at Dr. Hogly Wogly’s, ripping flesh off bones with their teeth. “Sepulveda and what?” I asked innocently.

C
HAPTER
2
8

nfortunately, dinner at Dr. Hogly Wogly’s never hap
pened. At Roscoe Avenue, just west of the Van Nuys intersection, Annie started having what she thought were contractions. She and Vincent called her doctor from the car. He’d examined Annie just two days earlier and was fairly certain it wasn’t time, but suggested they turn around and meet him at the hospital just to be on the safe side.

Gambino and I took Alexander home with us in case this wasn’t a false alarm. We stopped at In-N-Out Burger on the way. Alexander said he could eat two orders of fries, which I found hard to believe considering he was only three, but it turned out to be true.

Annie called us just after nine. They were already home. The doctor had assured them that the baby was staying put for the time being. I was relieved. And grateful about the impromptu sleepover. Having Alexander over defused the lingering ten
sions between Gambino and me. We took Buster for a walk, played with Mimi, then got ready for bed. While the boys were
brushing their teeth, I gave Lou a quick call. The line was busy again.

Alexander was asleep within the hour. Gambino was the next to collapse. I shut the door to our bedroom and snuck out to the car to get the envelope I’d borrowed from the Antelope Valley East Kern Water Project.

It was nice to be outside. The air smelled sweet, like orange blossoms. It was that time of year. The jacarandas would be next, littering the streets with their sticky purple flowers. They say that if you walk underneath a jacaranda and a trumpet blos
som falls on your head, you’ll be granted your heart’s desire. In the meantime I thought I’d wish on a star, but I couldn’t see any on account of the massive neon Emser Tile sign up on Santa Monica Boulevard, which shone like a beacon through the night. The Emser sign is actually a cinematic landmark. The first time we see Mel Gibson in
Lethal Weapon
, he is dan
gling somebody upside down from it.

I unlocked the side gate, made my way through the “dog run” (imagine Buster cracking up right about now), and traipsed out to the office, also glowing like a beacon. I’m bad about lights.

The envelope was big. I opened it and fanned the sheets of paper out across my desk. I was intimidated. Scientific, tech
nical, and legal documents are not my specialty. My eye went straight to the alarming words and phrases: “toxic plume”; “wide-scale irrigation”; “ammonium perchlorate”; “groundwa
ter basin”; “litigious carrot farmers.” At least “litigious carrot farmers” made me laugh.

My saving grace was the cover letter.

In a nutshell:

Ian and Dov needed water. The Antelope Valley East Kern Water Agency (AVEK) wanted to provide them with it. AVEK
handled state water imported via the California Aqueduct, which would run Christietown only slightly more money than the water they were currently getting from the Palmdale Water Company (PWC), which owned and operated twenty-three wells in the immediate area. AVEK saw an opening for them
selves because this January, just four months earlier, ammonium perchlorate, which is a component of rocket fuel, was discov
ered in one of PWC’s wells, located just a few miles down
stream from a former Cold War–era munitions plant. In the cover letter, AVEK acknowledged that PMC had announced immediate plans to shut down the contaminated well and clean it up. Nontheless, AVEK’s head honcho was concerned that the plume of perchlorlate could be spreading west toward its other drinking wells.