As a favor to her grandmother and her matchmaking sisters, divorced, quasi-religious true-crime writer Molly Blume agrees to date her former beau Zack Abrams, now returned to LA as—what a catch!—a rabbi. But romance gets put on the backburner when Molly becomes intrigued with why Lenore Saunders was wandering the curves of Laurel Canyon in her nightie, got smacked by a hit-and-run, was hospitalized and supposedly mending, then committed suicide. Lenore’s best friend Nina, who was also under psychiatrist Lawrence Korwin’s care for severe depression, insists they told each other everything, yet she had no idea Lenore was pregnant. Again. Neither did Lenore’s ex, Robbie, who now running for City Council and planning to marry the wealthy Jillian. Was the baby his? Dr. Korwin might know, but patient confidentiality keeps him mum. Lenore’s mother probably did know, but she’s lying in her tub with her wrists slit. Perhaps the answer is in Lenore’s journals, but they seem to have disappeared. And whatever happened to Max, Lenore’s other child? Robbie tells Molly that Lenore shook him to death while suffering from postpartum psychosis. Reading the transcript of her trial and interviewing the prosecuting attorney, Molly reluctantly concludes that Lenore, for whom she had felt sympathy, probably never suffered from P.P.P., may not even have killed Max, but hoodwinked her psychiatrist and the jury into letting her off with a wrist slap and treatment.
Like Krich’s Det. Jessie Drake series (Shadows of Sin, 2001, etc.), a Judaica primer, only this time with much Bubbie-quoting and a more savvy heroine.