I do. And you'd better keep your end of the bargain if you want me to behave the next time we shop.”
“All right. Tomorrow. Holt Renfrew.”
“No problem.”
“Well, all right. It's about the police officers stationed outside Lindsay Grace's home the night of the murder.”
I held my breath.
“I overhead another detective talking to Conn. Don't let on I told you. Apparently, they were drugged.”
“Of course they were drugged.”
“You knew?”
“Not hard to figure out. Did all of them show evidence of drugs?”
Alexa pursed her lips. “I overheard a conversation. I didn't read a report.” “No need to be crabby.”
“I am not crabby. Anyway, Miss-Know-It-All, the guy told Conn they had the results back from the lab and it sounded like Row-something. Maybe in their coffee.”
Rohypnol. Better known on the street as roofies. The date rape drug.
“Well, Elaine sure wouldn't drug anyone. Who knows, one of us could have polished off two or three cups of coffee and then what?”
“They're convinced she did it.”
“Where would Elaine get Rohypnol, for God's sake?”
“Stop snapping at me. He didn't say how she got it, but he did mention she gave a pot of coffee to the officers. The row-something showed up in their urine.”
True. “Rats.”
“You're Elaine's lawyer. Wouldn't they have to give you this information anyway?”
“Sure. In time.”
“That's why I could tell you with a clear conscience. So you have a head start. And tomorrow we'll get your dress.”
I closed my eyes and replayed the scene in the kitchen. I'd slugged down a large mug of coffee from the same thermos Constable James had carried to the cruiser. Elaine had poured hers from the same thermos the others did. It was damned unlikely she'd dosed herself with Rohypnol.
Too bad so much time had passed. There'd be no way to get reliable results from urine tests of the rest of us at this stage, so that wouldn't help us pinpoint anyone. Why the hell hadn't I thought of roofies? Plenty of my clients had been undone by them. The whole thing made me irritable.
I got some of it out of my system by giving my sister a bit of advice. “You're about to marry a cop. You can't go around telling people what he says about the job.”
“I'd never do that.”
“You just did.”
“No. Conn didn't say anything. The other fellow did. And it wasn't official police business, I joined them when they were socializing over a beer.”
“Even so, you have to be careful not to repeat things. Except with me, of course.”
“I thought you'd be pleased to have the inside story.”
“Indeed, I'm thrilled. And since we're sharing inside information, do you have Leonard Mombourquette's cellphone number?”
In my family, you press your advantage whenever you have one. As Alexa copied out the number and handed it to me, I looked straight ahead. “Is that a parking ticket on your windshield, Alexa?”
Fourteen
I prefer not to break bread with Det. Sgt. Leonard Mombourquette. But I found myself between a rock and a rat. Even though it was nearly noon and I hadn't set foot in the office, Elaine had to be my priority.
Mombourquette surprised me and agreed to meet at The Mayflower. He didn't even hesitate. When I arrived, on foot and out of breath, he was already waiting in a booth.
“Nice hat,” he said.
“Nice ears,” I said.
It was lunchtime, and we opted for the Winterlude Specials. I had chicken pot pie. Mombourquette took the tourtière. We followed it up with carrot cake with cream cheese icing. “Gotta get all your food groups,” Mombourquette said.
I agreed. I was glad to eat whenever I had the chance, since I had kissed regular meals goodbye.
It was a long time to spend in Mombourquette's company, but I reminded myself Elaine merited serious sacrifice. On the up side, I figured he'd be as emotionally distanced from weddings as I was.
“So,” I said, “this wedding fuss. Giving you a headache?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know all this hassle about the perfect flowers, they have to be calla lilies and they have to be the precise shade of cream. I mean, do you believe there are dozens of shades of cream, and then the lights matter a lot and the type of deckle on the edge of the invitations…”
He shrugged.
“Not to mention the hysteria about the music.”
“Well…”
“And the candles, for God's sake, they have to be special too.”
“It's all…”
“Exactly. Especially the business with the dresses. It's enough to make you nuts. Do I look like I want to wear a butt-ugly bridesmaid's dress at my age?”
“What's eating you? I think the wedding will be beautiful. Two nice people happen to be very much in love and deserve some happiness. Why shouldn't they celebrate it?”
I spilled a bit of coffee. Very much in love? “Sorry, call me crazy, but I remember you gave McCracken a hard time about getting involved with a member of my family.”
“But now I understand the difference relationships can make in the quality of a person's life.”
“Sorry? I missed that.”
Mombourquette squirmed a bit on the banquette. “You know. Love.”
“Love?” I'd never suspected Mombourquette was aware of the concept.
He narrowed his beady little eyes. “Problem with that?”
No matter what kind of situation you find yourself in with Mombourquette, you always have to be careful not to corner him. “I never expected you to believe in love.”
“What do you mean? Of course I believe in love—I'm human.”
“Well, hey, I'm certainly human.”
“Good thing you told me, Camilla. It sure doesn't show.”
I
