BECAUSE LITTLE RUBY ROSE was premature, we all wore sterile pink paper hospital gowns, hats, and masks for the occasion. Claire looked like she’d been dragged a quarter of a mile in a tractor pull, but the baby-glow was there under her pallor. And since baby-glow was contagious, we were all euphoric and giggly.
Cindy was crowing about her interview with Hans Vetter’s uncle, and Yuki, having put on a couple of ounces since recovering from being drugged with LSD and almost killed by Jason Twilly, chortled at Cindy’s jokes. The girls told me that I looked hot and possibly happy, the way I should look, since I was living with the perfect man.
“How long is she going to keep us waiting?” I asked Claire again.
“Patience, girlfriend. They’ll roll her in when they’re good and ready. Have another cookie.”
I’d just folded a gooey double chocolate chip with walnuts into my maw when the door to Claire’s room opened - and Conklin came in. He was wearing matching gown, hat, and mask in blue, but he was one of the few men I’d ever known who could look goofy and great at the same time. I could see his gorgeous brown eyes, and they were shining.
Rich held a big bunch of flowers behind his back, and he went around the room saying hello, kissing Cindy and Yuki on their cheeks, squeezing my shoulder, kissing Claire, and then he dramatically produced red roses.
“They’re ruby roses,” he said, with a shy version of his brilliant smile.
“My God, Richie. Three dozen long stems. You know I’m married, right?”
When the laughter stopped, Claire said, “I thank you. And when my little girl gets here, she’ll thank you, too.”
Cindy was looking at Conklin like she’d never seen a man before. “Pull up a chair,” she said. “Richie, we’re going to Susie’s for dinner in a while. Why don’t you come with?”
“Good idea,” I said. “We’ve got to toast our little associate member of the Women’s Murder Club - and you can be the designated driver.”
“I’d like to help you guys out,” Rich said. “But I’ve got a plane to catch in&............