Gaits of Heaven

of that penicillin after all.“
    “Dogs,” Kevin said. “You’re not off the hook, Holly.“
    “Dolfo,” I said, “is not my dog.”
    “Peed all over the scene. And did the first officer on the scene, O’Brien, remove him? And protect the scene? He did not. And did he permit Dr. Green, who was having quote-unquote an anxiety attack, to raid the bathroom and help himself out of the same medicine cabinets that should’ve been sealed up? He did. Is O’Brien an idiot? He is.”
    “Well,” I said, “at least he’s one of yours and not a shrink or a dog. Kevin, I am sorry. Your mother said you were being driven crazy by psychiatrists. I didn’t realize it was this bad.“
    “And then there’s my mother. And you.”
    I rounded up most of the shrimp that remained in the salad bowl and put them on Kevin’s plate. “Protein may help,” I said.
    “Not according to Jennifer.”
    “Well,” said Rita, “the theme for today is that the world is lined up on two opposing teams. One team consists of Kevin. The other consists of everyone else.”
    “You got it,” Kevin agreed. “And guess who’s winning.” He paused to eat. When he’d swallowed, he asked, “Caprice Brainard is staying here?”
    “Yes,” I said. “That’s why I left all those messages for you. But she isn’t here right now. She and Leah have gone out.”
    Turning to Rita, Kevin said, “And you’re in on this, too, aren’t you.”
    “Indirectly,” Rita conceded.
    “The memorial service,” I said, “is tomorrow.”
    “First I’ve heard,” said Kevin. “The body hasn’t been released.”
    “That’s okay. It’s not a funeral. It’s a memorial service. No body required. We’re supposed to share memories. And lessons Eumie taught us.”
    “Yeah. Don’t get your head shrunk.”
    Sherlock Holmes fan that I am, I said, “As you value your life and reason, stay away from the shrinks. That’s from The Hound of the Baskervilles . More or less.”
    “Enough, both of you!” Rita was genuinely put out.
    “We don’t mean you,” I said.
    “Do I make hostile jokes about cops and dog trainers?“
    “There aren’t any,” I said, “or maybe you would.“
    “What’s happening here,” Rita announced, “is that the toxic environment of this horrible event is affecting all three of us. Harry Stack Sullivan had what’s really a contagion theory of emotion. He said—”
    “Something about mothers,” Kevin finished. “That’s what they all say.”
    “Actually,” said Rita, “now that you mention it, he was talking about mothers. ‘Anxiety in the mother induces anxiety in the infant.’ ”
    “Thus Caprice,” I said. “Maternal overdependence on prescription medication induces—”
    Kevin suddenly turned serious. “It’s a homicide, you know. It’s a homicide. Nobody could’ve taken that much by accident, and this crap in the refrigerator was loaded with it. You know stuff comes in liquid form? It was mixed with all this soy stuff and vegetable juice that no one else drank but her. It’s gawdawful is what it is. I’ve been a cop a long time, and I’ve seen a wicked lot of drugs, but I gotta tell you, even after Dr. Green had been in that bathroom, there was so much there that I... it was... honest to God, it was like finding a meth lab on Avon Hill. It’s a wonder there’s anyone in that house still left alive.”
    Kevin likes exactly the kinds of heavy, creamy desserts I’d tossed out. When I offered raspberry sorbet and fresh strawberries, he looked disappointed but accepted anyway. As I was scooping the sorbet and hulling the berries, a phrase he’d spoken kept ringing in my head: still left alive. Maybe what triggered the ringing was the sight of the bird feeders outside the window over the sink.
    When I was again seated at the table, I said, “This probably has nothing to do with anything, but, speaking of substances, there’s one really odd thing at Ted and Eumie’s.“
    “Yeah,” said Kevin. “Ted.”
    “Kevin, you were in the backyard. When you talked to Caprice. I don’t know whether you noticed, but there are a lot of bird feeders there.” I ate some sorbet and continued. “And no squirrels. And the feeders aren’t damaged. Squirrels will wreck feeders. They chew wood, and they ruin plastic perches. Those feeders are not damaged. And they don’t even have squirrel baffles.”
    Rita cast a professional eye at me. “Are you suggesting...?”
    “I’m not suggesting anything.