Killer Kitchens (Murders by Design) Read Online Free PDF Page B

at me, kicking his legs and arms and howling his head off.
     
    Chapter Five
Too stunned to move, I stared at the screaming baby. Then I glanced over at the door. It hadn’t completely swung closed after Mimi’s exit. I patted the edge of the basket and said, “Be right back. I mean it. Just a sec.”
    I raced outside the shop and scanned the alley, up, down, left, right. Not a person anywhere. Only the boxwood sentinels on either side of my shop entrance and the eye-catching balloons bouncing outside Off Shoots, the boutique next door. Why was I not surprised?
    I hurried back inside, my heart pounding, and bent over the still screaming baby. He was dressed in blue pajamas with little white whales and lying on a blue pillow, covered with a blue blanket. The odor of baby powder and baby poop mingled in the air.
    “I’m just taking a wild guess here, but I’ll bet your name is Francesco.” I touched one finger to his tummy. If anything, he howled even louder. I needed to call the police, but they’d never hear me over the screaming.
    “You want a bottle?”
    Howl.
    “How about clean pants?”
    A canvas bag was tucked into the side of the basket. I opened it. Sure enough. Pampers and two full bottles of what looked like formula.
    “Okay, but it’s just you and me, Francesco,” I murmured, hoping the sound of my voice would calm him down. “I can’t even call for help till you stop screaming.”
    I lifted him out of the basket and held his small, warm body against my shoulder. Amazing how natural that felt. My late husband and I hadn’t had children, a regret I’d carry with me forever. Jack would have been such a wonderful father...and I would have had his child to remember him by. A little boy maybe, with my freckles and Jack’s mischievous grin, his...But what was the use in torturing myself over something that would never be?
    With one hand, I spread the shawl on the bureau plat and laid the baby on it. “You’re a stinkapottamus, little guy.” I guess . “If I smelled that bad, I’d yell too.” I tugged off the sodden diaper—yup, a boy—and dropped it on the floor. He kicked and twisted. I held him still with one hand, wishing I’d taken some tissues or paper towels from the powder room before starting this procedure. I couldn’t leave him now or he’d roll off.
    A yellow arc suddenly spurted up and, with diabolical accuracy, hit me right in the chest.
    “Oh hell,” I whispered and grabbing a handful of monogrammed napkins, I swiped at my shirt, then grabbed more and wiped the baby clean.
    He didn’t appreciate any of it. His chubby face turned red, and if anything he wailed even louder. “This is my very first time changing a diaper, darling, so be kind. And just so you’ll know, it’s the first time I’ve ever been urinated on too.” He ignored me and kept screaming until I rewrapped him in the blanket and popped a bottle in his mouth.
    While eyeing me suspiciously, he sucked on the nipple with gusto, and I sank onto the desk chair with him in my arms. Now that it was possible to hear another human voice, I dialed Rossi’s number.
    “Rossi,” he said, still sounding gravelly.
    “I’m in trouble,” I told him.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “A baby. That’s what’s wrong.”
    A crash echoed through the line, like maybe he stood up too fast and his chair flipped over. “Did you say baby?”
    “’Fraid so. I don’t have time to explain but it’s kind of a foundling-on-the-doorstep story. Want to come to the shop? I could use your help, but don’t bring a squad of police cars. Now I have to hang up and call Francesco before he leaves town.”
    “Who’s Francesco?”
    “The baby’s father.”
    I hung up and, not wanting to disturb little Frannie to reach big Frannie, I searched in my purse for his business card using only one hand. The maneuver took a while, but I found the card and to my relief it listed his cell phone and business numbers as well as the fact that Francesco P.