Some Like It Lethal (36 page)

Libby looked very frosty. "Turns out Melvin wasn't a doctor after all. He was faking! I spoke to the chief of security at the hospital, and he thought Melvin's behavior was highly unprofessional, not to mention suspicious, but he complimented me on my intuitive good sense—"

"Melvin?" asked Michael.

"It's a long story," I said.

"—which I immediately attributed to my recent acceptance of Placida into my life, so the chief of security went to the police." Energetically, Libby continued. "And he learned that Melvin has been defrauding people all over the state, posing as all kinds of things and using soap opera names to prey on attractive, available women. And Philip said—"

"Who's Philip?" we asked in chorus.

Libby looked prettily surprised. "Philip is the chief of security at the hospital. Didn't I say that? And he's a very sensitive person, I might add. He was shocked to hear what an ordeal I've been through, and thought I must be having a very difficult time learning to trust men again after this dreadful experience, so he—"

"Oh, Lord," said Emma.

"What?"

"Libby," Emma said, "isn't it time to nurse the baby? I think you're leaking again."

Libby grabbed her breasts and stood up. "You're right. Let's step on it."

"Does the kid have a name yet?" Michael asked. "Or is that another dangerous subject?"

"Well, Philip has a pleasantly royal ring to it, don't you think? Or maybe Zeke. I knew a very charming Zeke once—"

Emma grabbed her. "C'mon, Lib. Let's give these three some privacy."

"Thank you for bringing Spike," I called as they headed downstairs.

Michael had lulled Spike to sleep, and he put the puppy on the bed. He began to dress like a man who wanted his breakfast. I enjoyed watching.

When he got his pants on, he said, "I'm not crazy about marrying an entire family, you know."

I smiled. "Who said anything about marrying anyone?"

"I did, just now. I don't want to marry all three of you."

"Michael, I can't marry you."

He put on his shirt and looked at me. "You don't still believe in the Blackbird widow's curse?"

"Of course I do. If you marry a Blackbird, you'll be dead in no time. It's been happening for generations. You and I can't get married."

He gave up dressing and crawled back into bed. "Nora, sweetheart, let's review. Last night we definitely made a sibling for Spike. And no child of mine is going out into the world without my name on it."

"That's a medieval attitude."

"I know," he said. "Despite that, will you marry me?"

I kissed his mouth. "Get dressed and we'll talk about it over breakfast."

"Okay." He got up again.

I climbed out of bed, too, and located my bathrobe. As I slipped it on, I found myself staring out the window at the barn. Emma's horse was there, nose to the
ground and tail swishing. The window was closed, but I felt a sudden draft—a ghostly whisper that stirred the curtains and slid past my skin.

I still didn't know what to do about Rush's killer. Let him go, or tell the police everything I knew? Ruin more lives now that one was irretrievably lost?

I turned around quickly, fastening the tie on my bathrobe. My voice was strained. "Should we take Spike downstairs with us?"