Page 19 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I never really imagined the skylight as an access point. It’s so small, although Candace mentioned she had one roommate who did it once or twice when she lost her key.”
“Add in an Indiana thunderstorm and twenty-five-ish weeks pregnant, and you have one amazing intruder.”
“Pregnant? Granted, expecting triplets, I’m larger than your average whale, but even a regular pregnancy—that’s hard to envision. She didn’t hurt herself, did she?”
“She says no. But I wish she would get a medical checkup. Was there a doctor Mrs. Crawford liked down here?”
“Personality wise, yes. Competency wise, not so much. That’s why they came back up to Chicago once Mandy started preterm labor.”
Alex put the clothes he had unpacked that afternoon back into his duffel. “That’s what I remembered. I don’t know that I’ll get her into a hospital, anyway. Do you know of any midwives?”
“Mrs. Capps across the street. You know the nosy old lady used to be a midwife. I believe her daughter is one now. They both offered their services when they learned Mandy was pregnant.”
“How trustworthy do you think Mrs. Capps is?”
There was a long pause before Abbie answered. “I don’t have much experience with her. I know she kept all Candace’s secrets. And she makes a mean Amish friendship bread. And she’s the type of Amish that drives cars.”
“I’ve been half expecting friendship bread to show up since I came to the house today.”
“Unless she already had a batch baking, you’re safe until tomorrow morning. I think the starter needs twenty-four hours or at least overnight.”
In the kitchen, Alex rebagged the groceries he’d purchased for himself. “I guess I’ll ask my new principal how comfortable she is with Mrs. Capps examining her.”
“You have a client?”
“Mrs. Ogilvie hired me to take care of our intruder. And told me to spend whatever I needed to.”
Abbie’s low whistle came through the phone. “Now you have me curious. Who is this acrobatic, pregnant client?”
“Sorry, sis, you know I can’t give out a principal’s information.”
“That’s not very nice. If you were in the room with me, I’d throw this pillow at your face.”
Alex chuckled. “Hey, you’re the one who left the biz. You know that entails some sacrifices.”
“Yeah, like giving up my guns—which I will have back as soon as these little cuties are born—and having my twin keep secrets from me.”
Given the testy voice, Alex trod carefully. No point in arguing whether she should have her guns back once the triplets were born. Or pointing out how dangerous it could be having guns around three toddlers. After all, he and Abbie had put their mother through her paces, and that was only two of them. “I’ll tell you if she gives me permission. You know it’s the best I can do.”
“Harrumph. I hate sitting here doing nothing all day.”
Alex looked around to see if there was anything he’d left. “I’d hardly call incubating my three nephews nothing.”
“I owe you a second pillow in the face. I believe that brings me to forty-seven in the last week alone. Maybe I should have a paintball challenge with you once I am up to running instead of waddling.”
“Sounds fun. Any tips you can give me for dealing with my new client?”
“Be super nice but don’t hover.”
“Will do. Night, sis. Love you.”
“Is she Kimberly Thompson?”
“How did you come up with her name?” He’d dropped enough clues, hoping Abbie would make the connection.
“Candace invited her to the wedding. Kimberly named the loft.”
“You know I can’t confirm or deny, correct?”
