C is for Coochy Coo (Malibu Mystery Book 3)

by Sean Black

  Dr. Busch positively beamed at her. “That’s very kind of you to say so. I can see you truly understand what we do here.” He glanced over to the gyno table. “Are you sure you don’t want to hop on up and let me take a look? The initial consultation is free of charge.”

  Aidan twitched.

  “Maybe another time,” said Sofia. “As Aidan said, this is agency business.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. So what can I do for you?”

  “All we need is a DNA sample,” said Aidan.

  Dr Busch hesitated. “Perhaps I should consult with my attorney first.”

  “Unless you think there’s a chance you’re the father, it’s probably not worth the aggravation. And if you are, we’ll just get a court order, which means publicity, and in your business . . .” Aidan trailed off.

  “There’s no chance I’m the father,” said Dr. Busch.

  “If you don’t mind us asking, how can you be so sure?” Sofia asked him. That was the story the last guy had spun and the jury was still out on Nate Kaufmann.

  “May I be frank?” said Dr. Busch.

  “Please,” said Aidan. “We’re all adults here.”

  Given Aidan’s reaction to the binder full of Dr. Busch’s vajayjays, Sofia wasn’t sure that was completely true. But she’d go along with it for now.

  “Candice and I never had penetrative sex. My personal interests are more oral, if you get my meaning.” In case they could miss it, he ran his tongue along the bottom of his mustache. Now it was Sofia’s turn to feel a little queasy.

  “In which case,” she said, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. But we’ll still need a mouth swab.”

  Ugh. She hoped the doctor or Aidan could take care of the swabbing part. There was no way her fingers were going anywhere near that dude’s mouth.

  CHAPTER 24

  Sofia stood on the sidewalk outside Dr. Busch’s office and rubbed sanitizer into every crevice of her hands. Right now she would have stuck them in bleach if she’d had some.

  “That was a little creepy,” said Aidan.

  “A little creepy? For you? I had to put my fingers inside the guy’s mouth.”

  “What are you complaining about? You got to wear a surgical glove.”

  “Yeah, but he kept moving his tongue around.” She shuddered at the thought.

  “Okay, but look on the bright side.”

  “There’s a bright side?”

  Aidan held up the clear plastic baggie with the swab from Dr. Busch’s mouth. The swab he and the plastic surgeon had insisted Sofia take. “So far we’re two for two. If it comes back that they don’t match with Daniel then we can cross them off the list, and if they do, it’s job done.”

  Sofia conceded that he had a point. It hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing, but it could have been a lot worse. Both Nate Kaufmann and Tom Busch had been cooperative. That was lucky.

  Glancing at his watch, Aidan announced it was getting late and they could probably call it a day, at least as far as house calls went. He’d drop the samples into the lab and they could meet back at the office to update Brendan.

  Sofia checked the time. It was still only mid-afternoon. “We could probably squeeze one more potential dad in, couldn’t we? I mean Dr. Mark said Daniel may only have months, not years.”

  “Months is plenty to track down twelve guys plus half a baseball team. Anyway, I have something on tonight that I can’t be late for.”

  Now Sofia knew why he was so keen to get back to the office and finish for the day. “Hot date?”

  “Yeah. Dinner. I was going to take her to Gladstones, but after this afternoon I’m not sure I can face a fish restaurant. Think I might suggest Italian. I should be good as long as I can avoid the calamari.”

  “Buying dinner? Must be getting serious.”

  “Guess it is,” said Aidan.

  “You think this is the one?” Sofia asked. Aidan being quiet about someone he was seeing was a sign he was serious. Usually he had no problem explaining in great detail why a woman he’d dated hadn’t lived up to his exacting standards.

  “Who knows? Maybe.”

  “The answer of a true commitment-phobe.”

  “That’s rich,” said Aidan.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means at least I’m looking for a serious relationship.”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  “Well, are you?” Aidan asked.

  It wasn’t something Sofia had given much thought to. If someone came along whom she really liked, she wouldn’t mind dating them exclusively and seeing where it went. But the only person she knew who had all the qualities she wanted in a man was Gray Cole, and he was gay. There were lots of attractive men in Los Angeles, but most of them weren’t the monogamous kind, never mind interested in getting married and having kids. And, truth be told, she wasn’t either. Sometimes she got jealous of what her sister Emily had, but that didn’t mean she wanted it too. Emily and Ray loved each other, and they loved the kids (so did Sofia), but Emily was exhausted most of the time, and they rarely got time together.

  “What’s with all the questions?” Sofia said to Aidan.

  “That’s a no.”

  “No, it’s not,” Sofia protested.

  Aidan held up the washbag containing Nate’s swimmers. “Hey, if you’re getting broody?”

  That was the second time in two days that someone had offered her sperm for artificial insemination. Was she wearing a sign on her back?

  CHAPTER 25

  Sofia was first back to the office. Brendan was in his inner sanctum when she arrived. The door was open so she knocked and he waved her in.

  She took a seat as he finished up a call.

  “How goes it?” he asked.

  She was dreading telling him what Dr. Mark had said about Daniel’s prognosis, not to mention the baseball team, but she hadn’t much choice. He’d find out eventually from Candice, and he’d be annoyed if she hadn’t told him first. Plus she knew how invested he was in helping Daniel, and how personally he was taking the case.

  She started by bring him up to speed on Nate Kaufmann and Tom Busch. “Aidan’s at the lab now dropping off the samples. They were both happy to help so we don’t think either of them is his birth father.”

  “People lie. You know that, right?” said Brendan. “Sometimes the ones who’re tripping over themselves to help with an inquiry, well, there’s a good reason for it.”

  “Yeah, I know, but they both had a good explanation as to why they couldn’t have gotten Candice pregnant.”

  “Oh, yeah?” said Brendan.

  God, why had she even mentioned that? Now she would have to tell Brendan what those reasons were – Nate always using a condom and Dr. Busch only ever going down on her. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with Brendan. It would be like discussing sex with her stepdad. Just. Plain. Wrong.

  “Like I said, they both had good reasons why it couldn’t be them.” Hopefully he would just move on.

  Fat chance. “And those reasons were what?”

  She clammed up. She was trying to find the words. Brendan didn’t even like the mildest cuss words. This was a minefield. She should have volunteered to drop off Nate’s swimmers and Busch’s saliva and let Aidan take this one.

  Brendan leaned over the desk. He was clearly still waiting for an answer. “They didn’t sleep with her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean? Either they did or they didn’t.”

  Sofia decided to just bite the bullet. Talking to Brendan about sex was best handled like taking off a Band Aid. Grip, rip and get the pain out of the way as fast as possible.

  “Nate Kaufmann said they had intercourse but he always used a condom, and Tom Busch said they only ever had cunnilingus, never intercourse.”

  Brendan’s face flushed a little. “Oh,” he said.

  Quick to move the conversation on, Sofia decided to tell Brendan the really bad news. The baseball team c
ould wait. “I also spoke to Daniel’s nephrologist.”

  Brendan looked equally relieved to be moving on to a fresh topic. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Has Candice called you about this yet?”

  “No, what did he have to say?”

  “It’s not good news, Brendan. Daniel’s condition is getting worse. It’s no longer a matter of it being desirable for him to have a transplant. It’s critical.”

  Brendan chewed on his bottom lip. “I see.”

  “I’m sorry, Brendan.”

  “Don’t be sorry. That’s not going to help anyone. Let’s just make sure we get out there and find the father. And if we can’t find him, we need to see what else we can do to help out.”

  Five minutes later Sofia left the office with a stack of paperwork and printouts Aidan had compiled on where the men Candice had told them about might be. Brendan was right. This wasn’t a regular case. It was way more important than that. She tossed the files into the back of the Tesla, and headed back toward Nirvana Cove. Paperwork and scouring the internet awaited.

  * * *

  A NIGHT in with a bunch of papers for company wasn’t all that different from when she’d been Sofia Salgado, teen star of Half Pint Detective. They shot five days a week, which meant Sunday through Thursday night was usually reserved for going over the sides for the next day’s shooting. Theoretically, they could read the whole script, but most actors only ever read sides, the scenes they were appearing in. Because Sofia was the star and in pretty much every scene, the difference for her was usually academic.

  After she’d had a bite to eat and fed Fred, she sat down in the living room and spread out the papers on the floor. She divided them into a pile for each potential dad. She had taken home two they could cover tomorrow, as well as all the information they had so far on the members of the baseball team.

  Looking at the piles, and knowing that these were only some of the guys Candice had slept with, Sofia could only admire the woman’s energy. Never mind having sex with them all, Sofia would have been exhausted just dating them within such a short period. Although, if she was having sex with them all, there probably wasn’t a lot of time for romantic dinners, or long walks together on the beach. If she cut out the usual formalities she could probably get through a lot more guys that way. Which, Sofia guessed, had been Candice’s approach.

  Not that it was relevant to finding Daniel’s father, but Sofia did wonder about Candice’s promiscuity. Had she had a bad relationship with her father? Had she confused love with sex? Or did she really, really like sex and get bored easily with her partners?

  Being young, good-looking and female, Candice would have had no problem sleeping with as many men as she wanted to. If a straight man had the same options, and could sleep with virtually any woman he picked, he’d go crazy. Lots of gay men did. So, maybe it was something that was just there in most people. A bit like having a sweet tooth and being handed the key to the candy store. Only eating too much candy couldn’t get you pregnant. Which Dr Busch at least had been smart enough to realize.

  Sofia sat down on the living-room floor. The baseball players could wait until later. First she’d deal with the two other prospective candidates.

  Harvey Lemon had been one of Candice’s one-night stands. Or, rather, according to Candice’s hazy recollection, one-night stand against a wall outside the Viper Room on Sunset Boulevard. He was now a twice-married, twice-divorced venture capitalist with an office in Century City.

  A quick Google search on him had already turned up a treasure trove of information. From the image search, which brought up a half-dozen pictures, things did not look promising. If he did turn out to be Daniel’s father, Daniel might have to watch his weight and his hairline. Harvey was carrying about a hundred extra pounds for his five feet nine frame, and he was sporting what looked like a hairpiece that would have made Donald Trump blush. At least the Donald had the excuse that he was working with what he had. Harvey had gone out and purchased something that looked like an endangered marsupial on top of his head. He’d also had blond streaks added, perhaps to throw people off the trail. It hadn’t worked.

  The other main finding about Harvey Lemon, and this did not bode well, was that he appeared to be incredibly litigious. He’d sued nearly everyone he’d done business with. He’d also sued both his ex-wives and was still working his way through the messy second divorce after that wife had contested the pre-nup agreement.

  Bottom line: if Harvey Lemon didn’t want to cooperate and offer a DNA sample, it would be tough to make him. Especially because they were running against the clock. He’d be exactly the kind of guy to drag things through the courts in the hope they’d give up and move on.

  Sofia placed Harvey’s file to one side, and moved on to candidate number two. Gary Witter was a British transplant to California who worked as an actuary with an office downtown. His social-media accounts had him claiming to be at least ten years younger than his real age. Even though he had a full head of hair and was fairly trim, there was no way someone would have tagged him as younger than he was. He’d grown up in London and gone to a private school called Harrow. From what Sofia could tell Harrow was pretty fancy and kind of a big deal. He’d gone to college at Cambridge, then done an MBA at Wharton.

  She tracked down a talk he’d given to an insurance-industry conference on YouTube. She watched the first five minutes of his presentation, then bookmarked it. She’d guessed that actuaries, who basically spent their life calculating insurance risk and when people would die, weren’t party people. But Gary was on a whole other level of boring. He spoke in a dull, unchanging monotone, never looking up from the lectern. After the first two minutes, Sofia could feel her eyelids getting heavy. It was only Fred, squawking loudly, that stopped her nodding off.

  One thing Sofia had to credit Candice for was giving people—well, guys—a shot. She couldn’t imagine any parallel universe where she would give a man like Gary a night of hot loving. She might have invited him over to read her a bedtime story if she was suffering from insomnia, and Ambien wasn’t cutting it, but that was about it.

  She put Gary’s file to one side, and went into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. She was going to need it when she started tackling the members of the baseball team. She had just walked back into the living room with it when she heard a knock at the door.

  It was Tex. For once she wasn’t wearing her usual Lycra running gear. She was decked out in sneakers, jeans, and a soft green angora sweater. “Howdy, neighbor,” said Tex, walking straight in.

  Nirvana Cove was pretty informal. At times the rows of million-dollar double-wide trailers overlooking the beach reminded Sofia of an oversized summer camp for adult-sized adolescents.

  “Oooh,” said Tex, spotting her glass. “Wine! Hope you have some for me. I saw your light still on and figured you might want some company. Gray told me you were getting broody. Thought I’d come talk you off the ledge.”

  That was the downside of Gray. Sometimes he could be a real gossip. If she told him anything juicy she could expect it to be all over the Cove by the end of the week. Or maybe it was the nature of trailer parks. Even the chi-chi ones. People loved to gossip about their neighbors, and word spread quickly.

  Sofia didn’t think she was broody. She couldn’t remember saying that to Gray. But she probably did need a break. She went into the kitchen, poured another glass of wine, then walked back into the living room and handed it to Tex. “I didn’t think you were much of a drinker.”

  “I’m not,” said Tex, shot-gunning half the glass in one go. “These days, my body’s pretty much a temple. But I like to tie one on from time to time.” She caught sight of the papers on the floor. “This your new case?”

  Sofia started to gather everything up. Brendan could be a stickler for client confidentiality. “Yeah. Paternity. Kind of boring,” Sofia told her, hoping that would shut down any further discussion.

  “Yeah, Candy Carlson. Her kid needs a kidney transplant and t
hey need to find the dad. Only Candy was a real slut back in the day so it’s like needle-in-a-haystack time for you guys.”

  Sofia stared at Tex. She was going to kill Gray next time she saw him. If Brendan found out that the details of this were being blabbed about all over town, she’d probably get fired. “Tex, can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure, hon. What d’you need?’”

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned any of this to Gray. And I’d prefer the details not to get around.”

  “Oh, Gray didn’t say anything about it. I’ve known Candy since we were both slutting it up back in the day. She was a lot younger than I was, but we kind of moved in the same circles.” Tex took another slug of wine. “Back then, I pretty much put the grrrr in cougar.”

  Whoa. Talk about WTMI, the station of Way Too Much Information. “So you know Candy?” said Sofia, relieved that at least she hadn’t broken client confidentiality too much.

  “Know her? One night in Bakersfield she and I split a baseball team. I took most of the outfield and the catcher back to my room, and she got the two pitchers and whoever else was left over.”

  Sofia had known Tex had been crazy when she’d first moved out to Los Angeles after she’d finished her days as an oil wildcatter in Texas, but she hadn’t thought she’d been this out of control.

  “A whole baseball team between the two of you?” was all she could manage to say.

  “Hey,” said Tex, pausing only to finish her glass of wine. “Have you ever tried to take a whole baseball team on your lonesome? It’s fine at the top of the batting order, but once you get lower down the lineup it can turn into a real mess.”

  Sofia’s head was reeling. “We’re talking about having sex, right?”

  “No, playing bridge. Duh. Of course we’re talking about having sex. Can you imagine trying to play bridge with a bunch of baseball players? You’d be up half the night explaining the rules to them. Not that we didn’t have rules for―”