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Holding on to the bars with a look of desperation, Alan said, “I swear to you, Samantha. I didn’t kill Lily. I had no motive.”
“You know she was pregnant, right?” Samantha asked gently.
“I didn’t know until yesterday. Doc Peterson said she probably didn’t even know, it was so early. And I certainly wouldn’t have killed her because of that. I’ll never have a child of my own if I don’t get out of here.” He began to cry.
“Alan, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’ll do all we can to get you out of here.” She’d had enough and turned to leave, hearing a sob as she walked away.
On her way out, she ran into Alan’s attorney, a portly, benign-looking gentleman whom the prosecutor dreaded.
“I just saw your client. He’s in bad shape,” she said.
“I just got back from his bail hearing and have good news. He made bail.”
“Oh, man. That’s fabulous! Shelly is moving back into his house, however. I’d make sure she is out before you drop him off.”
“Will do. Thank you, Detective Cordis.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Kleinschmidt.”
Chapter 12
Thanksgiving
Wednesday night, Hocus and her boyfriend, Frank, left Babylon for the Bronx, where they would have dinner with Hocus’s huge Dominican family. The only nanny to stay behind would be Fredericka, who currently worked for Adam and Alison.
“Craziness will reign with all these babies,” Lisa said to Alison when they spoke on the phone that morning. “I hope Fredericka is ready.”
“It’ll be fine. The older girls will help.”
“You know, I never have asked Megan to help much. Maybe it’s time.”
“It is. She’s a capable kid, Lisa.”
“I treat her like a baby.”
“I’d better go. Adam is making me nuts with the fruit-peeling and the baking. I hope Pam appreciates what I’ve been going through.”
“I’m sure she does,” Lisa said, laughing. “My grandmothers aren’t coming, so Adam’s pies might be the only ones served.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. See you there!”
Sandra stood at the counter in her pristine kitchen, a cookbook open on a stand. The piles of ingredients were arranged on small plates like they would be on a cooking show.
“What’s Mom doing?” Brent whispered to his stepfather, Andy.
“I think she’s making stuffing to put into the turkey.”
“Is that the thing in the sink?”
“Right. It’s best not to bother her right now,” Andy said, trying not to burst out laughing. The tension behind the counter was so thick, you could almost see a haze around Sandra’s body.
After she prepared the bread cubes, she sauteed onions and celery in butter. The next step was to combine all the seasonings with the bread and the vegetables and then jam them into the turkey carcass.
Andy watched as a grimacing Sandra completed the task. Then she got a huge pan and placed it on the counter.
“Do you want me to lift that thing for you?” he asked.
“Do you mind? You’ll get raw turkey guts on your hands.”
