He just stares at me, expression flat.
“If you stay up for a while, I’d like you to Web-search a 1950s pinup and soft-core fetish porn star named Bettie Page. The reason will be self-explanatory.”
He slurps out of the kossu bottle. “Okay.”
“And we need to run background checks on Iisa Filippov and Linda Pohjola. I want to know who these women were and are. Whichever one of us has time first should do it.”
He quaffs again. “Yeah.”
“See you in the morning,” I say.
“Yep. See you in the morning.”
I think he’s waiting for me to leave so he can cry. I don’t look at him as I walk out.
28
Our bedroom is dark, but I know the sound of Kate’s breathing when she’s sleeping, and I can tell she’s not. I don’t bother to take my clothes off, crawl in bed beside her and put an arm around her.
“I thought you were working?” she says.
“I was.”
“Then why do you smell like booze?”
“I went to Milo’s place to talk about the Filippov murder. He had something to tell me in private. We had a hard day. A couple drinks was good for us. I didn’t want to leave you alone any longer than necessary and made it home as fast as I could.”
She turns toward me, wraps her arms around me, buries her head in my shoulder. “You could have died today.” She sobs, then bursts into tears.
I wish I could deny it. “But I didn’t.”
“The news said a man tried to make you commit suicide, but Milo killed him.”
“That’s what happened, but the man was emotionally disturbed. It was the guy I made drink a bottle of vodka outside the school a couple days ago. He didn’t shoot anyone and he just wanted to scare me, to punish me for hurting him. I’m pretty sure he just went to the school to die. He got what he wanted.”
“Kari, I saw the news and it reminded me of Kittila and the Sufia Elmi case and you getting shot. I started to shake and my heart started to pound. I’m scared, and I’m afraid I’ll lose this baby, too. I can’t fail as a mother again.”
I hold her tighter, confused. “What are you talking about? You didn’t fail as a mother. Miscarriages happen all the time.”
She sobs, pauses, collects herself. “I went skiing when I shouldn’t have and I fell. The doctors said it didn’t, but I think that fall caused us to lose our babies.”
I had no idea she felt this way. She bursts into big sobs and blurts out, “I failed you and them and I feel so guilty all the time.”
I pull her tight while she sobs, and wait until she quiets down before speaking. “Kate, that’s not true. If anything, the stress I caused you by pursuing the Sufia Elmi case to the ends of sanity caused you to miscarry.”
She tries to keep her voice down and whisper-shouts. “No. No no no no no. It was my fault. My failure. That’s why I wanted to start trying to get pregnant again as soon as I could, so I could give you a baby to replace the ones I took away from you with my selfishness and stupidity.”