“So what was Virginia’s reaction?”
“She was really upset, of course. She went to bail him out, so she called my mother to sit with Mimi. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“She came back to work, though?”
“Yes. But after another month, Mimi died. So Virginia was out of a job. But my mom thought the world of the woman, and she gave her a good reference any time she was asked.”
“Virginia’s mother told the police Virginia’d broken up with her boyfriend three months before,” I said. “I guess he’s out of jail?”
Amina shrugged. “I have no idea. He had an old ‘movie’ name … maybe Harrison Ford? Like the Star Wars guy? Something like that.”
I nodded, wondering how close she’d gotten to the correct name. I made myself remain five more minutes, talking about this and that, until I glanced at my watch and told Amina it was time to feed Sophie. “Come by to see her,” I said, and Amina looked pleased.
“Megan loves babies,” she said. “Maybe we will.”
Chapter Eighteen
When I got home the maids had left. It was time to take care of Sophie. When that was done, I told Robin everything Amina had said. “Do you think the police know all this?” I asked him. “Because they haven’t said a word about the boyfriend except to say Mrs. Mitchell said they weren’t together anymore. Moms don’t always know.” I tried not to think about what that might mean for my future with Sophie.
Robin didn’t get as excited as I’d thought he would. “The boyfriend may still be in jail,” he pointed out. “Or they may have truly broken up after the arrest. The police said so, right? That she’d dated some new men?”
I was sure I’d learned a vital clue. I was reluctant to hear anything different. I turned to fill my glass with water. I had to remember to keep pouring the fluids in, since so much fluid was going out of me.
“It would be great if we could know exactly what had happened, and where this guy is now,” Robin said. “I wish Amina had been more certain about his name. But since the police have Virginia’s phone, they’ll know if Virginia was still talking to this man. By the way, I had a strange phone call from the program chair at the Uppity Women club.”
My face flamed. “Strange? How so?” I was an Uppity Woman, though my life hadn’t permitted me to attend the last few meetings. Up until this moment, I’d been proud to be part of a group of openly active, smart, and assertive women, a revolutionary basis for a club when it had been founded.
I could only think of one reason the program chair would call: to cancel Robin’s talk. I had to fight the impulse to track down the women involved and beat them up. I was snarling inside with rage at the very idea. When I was sure my voice would be normal, I said, “Why did she call?”
“She called to emphasize the fact that I was very welcome to come to the club to speak. As if I’d heard otherwise.”
Enormously relieved, I downed a large glass of water and took Sophie back to her changing table. Her face was so innocent, so guileless. I felt like a traitor for thinking about anything but her. “Sophie, your mom and dad are between a rock and a hard place,” I told her. “But don’t worry, we’re going to come out of it okay.”
With Sophie settled on the kitchen island in her infant seat, Robin and I ate tuna salad and three-bean salad for lunch, with a sleeve of Ritz crackers lying on the counter between us. Robin abandoned thinking about Virginia Mitchell’s (possible) boyfriend to descend deep into book-thought, so he didn’t say much while we ate. That left me free to read the newspaper. After we’d finished, Robin cleaned away the leftovers and shot off to his office. I put Sophie to bed, and then I returned to wipe off the island.
I picked up one of my library books with a sense of happy anticipation. The novel was so immediately intriguing I was startled when the doorbell rang. Who now?
Then I remembered that the Spartan Shield representative was supposed to give us an estimate for an alarm system plan. “Robin, the security people are here,” I called as I went to the door. I felt this was his project, so he should be on hand to answer questions.
Robin was obviously excited and interested about this new toy, and he was halfway to the door when I opened it.
“Mr. Petrosian!” I was dumbfounded to recognize the coroner, now wearing a khaki shirt with a golden shield on the left side of the chest and “Arnie” embroidered on the right.
Robin looked from Arnie to me.
“Robin, Mr. Petrosian is also the coroner,” I explained. “He was here the other night.”
There was an interesting moment while Robin absorbed this startling fact.
“Please call me Arnie,” Petrosian said. He stepped forward with a smile and a handshake for both of us. “Being the coroner is only a part-time job. Installing security systems is what I do for a living.”
“I guess it ties in together,” I said.
Robin said, “Arnie, tell me what you think we need. Under the circumstances, I know we don’t have to explain why we want the system.”
“First I’m going to have a look at your house, your grounds, your windows and doors, and then we’ll sit down to talk about what you really need,” Arnie said briskly. “Anybody else in the house? I don’t want to walk in and scare someone.”
“The baby,” I said. “She’s asleep in her room, the last one on the right down the hall.”
“I won’t wake your little girl, I promise,” Arnie said, with a gleaming white smile as he began making a circuit of the doors and windows. We seemed to have an abundance of both; I’d never remarked on that before.
Robin and I sat side by side on the couch, glancing at each other from time to time. Though I was holding my book and he was fiddling with his phone, we were both more interested in what the coroner/security expert was doing. I don’t know what Robin was thinking about, but I was hoping that I felt safer after Arnie had done his magic. I was also hoping that Robin wouldn’t waste any more time feeling guilty. That was nonsensical.
Arnie carried a clipboard with a form on it, and from time to time he made notations. He also tested the lock on one of the windows, and I was dismayed to see that the actual lock mechanism was loose. I could only be surprised intruders hadn’t been strolling in and out.
Arnie hummed while he worked, a tune I couldn’t identify. It wasn’t irritating; in fact, it was pleasant.
He made a circuit, ending up in the living room again. He walked into the kitchen and went to the door. “The garage door, right?” he said, as he opened it. I dug my elbow into Robin’s ribs. Robin glared at me. I mouthed, How did he know that?
Startled, Robin looked at Arnie, who’d opened the door to step into the garage.