C is for Coochy Coo (Malibu Mystery Book 3)

by Sean Black

  Now it was Sofia’s turn to be shocked. She looked down at her boobs. Okay, so her girls might not have been the biggest but they had always been more than enough to work with. At least, she’d never had any complaints. Not to her face anyway.

  Madame La Rue’s challenge to Sofia’s ‘womanly side’ seemed to break Aidan out of whatever spell the club had cast over him. He dug into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his ID. “We’re private investigators from Maloney Investigations in Malibu. Could you go fetch Josh Walters for us and tell him we need to talk with him as a matter of some urgency?”

  Madame La Rue clasped her hands to her ample bosom. “Oh, thank heavens, I thought the woman at the agency had lost her mind sending me you two. I mean, you I could maybe work with,” she said to Aidan. “But you,” she said, turning to Sofia, “I’m not sure there’s lighting low enough.”

  Sofia was starting to get a little pissed at all this unwarranted abuse. Drag queen or not, any more lip from Madame La Rue and things might just get a whole lot uglier.

  “I’ll go find Josh,” Madame La Rue said, and disappeared through the door next to the DJ booth.

  The barman glanced up. “Don’t pay any attention to that old dragon,” he said to Sofia. “I think you’re cute. Loved you in Half Pint Detective, too.”

  “Thanks,” said Sofia, glad of the recognition for once. Right now she’d take whatever boost to her ego was going.

  The barman reached over to shake her hand. “Todd Bresinowitz. I’m an actor. Well, hoping to be one. If you have any advice you could give me I’d love to be able to sit down with you sometime.”

  “I’m kind of out of the business, Todd. Sorry.”

  “Like, five minutes?” Todd pressed.

  “Maybe later. I’m working my regular job right now.”

  “Sure. Sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Hey, do you still have an agent?”

  The door behind the DJ booth opened and Josh Walters appeared. Thankfully, he was alone. Sofia didn’t think she could take much more of Madame La Rue.

  Even in the dim lighting he didn’t look great. He had skin the color and texture of dark brown suede, bloodshot eyes, and badly dyed wispy hair. “I hear you’ve been looking for me,” he said.

  “It shouldn’t take too long,” said Aidan. “We know you’re a busy man.”

  Josh ignored him and lasered in on Sofia. “There’s no rush,” he said, taking her hand and doing the creepy two-handed shake Bill Clinton was so famous for. Sofia practically had to yank her hand away from him. “Sofia Salgado. What brings such a beautiful young star into my humble establishment? Let me guess, you like to walk on the wild side?”

  “Not exactly. Our visit is strictly business. This is my partner, Aidan Maloney of Maloney Investigations in Malibu.”

  Josh gave Aidan the briefest of nods before turning his attention back to Sofia. “I’d heard you’d left the business. Such a shame.”

  “Thanks,” said Sofia.

  “Yeah,” Josh went on. “I was really hoping you’d do the whole ex-child-star sex-tape thing before you quit.”

  OH. MY. GOD. Sofia could literally feel her skin starting to crawl. Had he actually said that? She knew he had a reputation for being a complete creep, but this was a whole other level. He’d only just met her and he was coming out with stuff like that.

  Aidan stepped in front of Sofia, placing himself between her and Josh. “We represent Candice Carlson. She has a son, Daniel. We’re trying to establish his paternity. Your name came up as one of Ms Carlson’s sexual partners from around the time Daniel was conceived.”

  Josh grinned. “Bet that was some list. You know she screwed a whole baseball team?”

  “Half a baseball team,” Sofia piped up. Not that that really made Candice appear any less promiscuous.

  She stepped out from behind Aidan. Now that she had gotten over the initial shock of just how gross Josh Walters was in the flesh, she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her and stop her doing her job. “We need a DNA sample from you to establish whether or not you could be Daniel’s father.”

  Josh’s tongue flicked out of his mouth. “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Yes, we do,” said Aidan.

  “Sure,” said Josh. “Not a problem. Always happy to help.”

  Sofia couldn’t quite believe he had agreed so readily to their request. “Great. If we can give you the name of the technician we’ve been using and―”

  “No need for that. I’m happy to provide a sample right now. Is my sperm acceptable?”

  UGH! Just when Sofia had thought the guy couldn’t get any grosser, he went and did just that. It was like he had no filters.

  Sofia tried to remember they were there to do a job. That job was to collect a sample of Josh Walters’s DNA so they could, hopefully, eliminate him from the investigation.

  “I would have gone for a mouth swab myself,” said Aidan. “But, hey, whatever floats your boat, dude.”

  “Mouth swab seems kind of tame,” said Josh. “I mean, if you’re to give up something of yourself, why not go the whole way? You feel me, Sofia?”

  Sofia had never met a white person who could say, “You feel me,” and not sound like a moron. She still hadn’t.

  Aidan had taught her that sometimes the best way of answering a question was to stay silent. This was probably one of those times.

  “I guess not,” said Josh. “Oh, well, I was all ready to cooperate too. What a shame.”

  He turned back toward the door. “Nice meeting you both.”

  “Wait,” said Sofia.

  Josh stopped and leered at her. “Yes?”

  “We do need that sample. In whatever form you’d like to provide it.”

  “In that case, and seeing as you asked me so nicely, I’d be happy to oblige. Now, why don’t you follow me through into the back?”

  “Why?” said Sofia.

  “It’s a weird thing, but since I’ve gotten older, I’ve found I can’t, y’know, finish on my own. So, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand,” said Josh, his eyes never leaving Sofia’s.

  Okay. She’d been wrong. Things could get creepier.

  “I’ll do it. I mean, a hand’s a hand, right?” said Aidan.

  Sofia stared at him. Now it was Josh’s turn to look disgusted.

  “Long as we don’t make eye contact, we should be cool,” Aidan added.

  It was like some kind of weird Mexican stare-off. All three of them looked from one to the other. Seconds passed. No one said anything.

  Josh was first to crack. “I guess a mouth swab would work,” he said.

  CHAPTER 31

  “Y ou weren’t really prepared to give Josh Walters a hand job so we could get that DNA sample, were you?” Sofia asked Aidan, dropping the clear plastic bag containing the mouth swab into her bag.

  “Hell, no, I’d rather chop my arm off, but he didn’t need to know that.”

  “You sure?” Sofia smiled.

  Aidan glared at her. “Positive. Hundred percent.”

  He pulled up beside the lab so they could drop off the DNA samples they’d gathered. Sofia grabbed her bag and got out.

  “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Aidan asked her.

  “I’m sure, but thanks. I’ll grab an Uber to get me home.”

  After she’d left the samples for overnight analysis, she planned to visit Daniel and his mom at the UCLA Medical Center. She was also hoping to corner Dr. Mark and find out just how accurate Witter’s predictions were. If she and Aidan really were working against the clock, they needed to know. Aidan had already passed on what Witter had said to Brendan. Brendan had said Candice hadn’t mentioned that Daniel had just a few weeks left, but he’d also suggested that maybe the medical team were trying to save her any additional stress while they scoured the databases for a donor.

  “Okay, catch you tomorrow,” said Aidan.

  “Hey, Aidan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for your help
today. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Aidan smiled. “That’s what partners are for.”

  She watched his canary-yellow Porsche take off down Wilshire Boulevard. From the speed he was doing and the way he ran the first red light, she guessed he had a hot date later with the mysterious woman who had managed not only to get past the first date but tick all of Aidan’s boxes. It kind of gave her hope for humanity, and for her own chances of finding a special someone. If Aidan, with his ridiculously long list of demands and crazy standards, could find someone, perhaps there was hope for everyone else.

  * * *

  AFTER SHE’D DROPPED off the samples at the lab, Sofia walked the short distance down Wilshire toward the UCLA Medical Center. What Witter had told them seemed surreal. How could a kid like Daniel have only a few weeks to live? It wasn’t so much that it was unfair, although it was, it just didn’t seem real. Only thirteen years old and his body was already conspiring to kill him. How could that happen?

  It had gotten her thinking about her own teenage years, and how at times, and even now, she hadn’t really appreciated how lucky she’d been. Not only had she and her sister enjoyed good health, Sofia had lived a life most teenage girls could only dream of. Okay, so there had been things she hadn’t enjoyed about being on television, not being able to go out in public like a regular person for one, but the upside had been huge. Regardless of how things worked out for Daniel, it was a salutary reminder to count her blessings, which everyone needed once in a while.

  * * *

  SOFIA TOOK the elevator up to the Connie Frank Kidney Transplant Unit to find it almost empty. She checked in at Reception and was told Daniel wasn’t there, though he had been in earlier.

  “Do you want me to check the records?” the nursing assistant asked.

  Before Sofia could answer, a voice said, “Hey there, I thought it was you.”

  She turned to see Dr. Mark standing behind her. Her stomach flipped as she met his gaze. He was like the anti-Josh Walters: young, gorgeous, charming, and he spent his life making other people better.

  “Here I am,” she said, sounding like a complete idiot.

  What was it about those rare men she found attractive on more than the physical level? They turned her straight back into a bumbling high-school girl who always said the wrong thing. Which was doubly weird because even when she’d been that age she’d never been awkward. She sure was making up for it now.

  She realized she had a goofy grin on her face and was staring up at Dr. Mark without saying anything. He was starting to look a little uncomfortable.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “Me?”

  His discomfort seemed to shift up a notch. “Yes. You. Are you okay?”

  “Tough day. First I had to stop Aidan beating up an actuary. Then we ended up at this new strip club and I thought for a moment I was going to have to give the owner a hand job. Or maybe Aidan would. And he totally would have too. Except it all worked out in the end.”

  “Without anyone having to give anyone else a hand job?”

  “Exactly.” She was glad he got it. Except the look on his face suggested that maybe she was completely unhinged. Who stumbled into a kidney-transplant center and started talking to one of the doctors about hand jobs?

  “It’s okay. It was to get some DNA to test. The hand job.”

  “Sofia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you stop saying ‘hand job’? Us doctors are pretty broad-minded―been there, done it, bought the T-shirt―but, y’know, if a patient thought we were standing here discussing―”

  “Hand jobs?” Sofia suggested helpfully.

  “Exactly. Anyway, it might not look good.”

  “Gotcha. No more talk about hand . . . I mean, I got it. Anyway, that was my day. I came to check in on Daniel and maybe talk to you as well about how he’s doing.”

  Dr. Mark smiled. “I can only really discuss it with his mom’s approval. Patient-doctor confidentiality.”

  “Totally. I get it.”

  “Tell you what, we moved him to another unit. His mom is there with him. This place can be a little like a maze so why don’t I walk you over there? That way I can bring you up to speed with what’s been happening.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  * * *

  SOFIA STOOD next to Dr. Mark in the elevator. He smelt really good. Like a mixture of sandalwood soap and fresh sea air. Having already embarrassed herself, she had decided to let him do the talking. The only problem was that he wasn’t doing any, which made things kind of awkward.

  She decided to stick to safe ground. “Did you grow up in California?” she asked.

  “San Diego,” he said. “Though I went to school at Penn.”

  “Good school.”

  “Thanks.”

  The conversation petered out again. It wasn’t quite at the level of the talks she’d had with her regular booty call, José, the barman from Moonshadows, but it wasn’t great either. Maybe, she thought, she’d been blinded by Dr. Mark’s good looks and the fact he was a doctor. As they walked across the Medical Center campus she found her mind drifting back to Gray. Why did he have to bat for the boys’ team? It was so unfair.

  “What about you?” Dr. Mark asked her.

  “What about me?”

  “Not many people would trade the career you had for a life of trying to get DNA samples by fair means or foul.”

  “I wanted to do something that mattered to real people.”

  “TV and movies matter to real people.”

  “Okay, they matter,” said Sofia, “but do they really make a difference?”

  Dr. Mark raised his eyebrows and his eyes twinkled. The spark was suddenly back.

  “I mean, what you do makes a difference,” Sofia continued. “People are sick and you make them better. That’s real.”

  “And being a private investigator?” Dr. Mark asked her, opening a door for her.

  “I’m not always going to be working on cases that help people. But ones like this? If we can help find a donor for Daniel that will make a difference.”

  “I think,” said Dr. Mark, “it could make the biggest difference of all.”

  They stopped walking. Sofia finally took in her surroundings. They were standing in the UCLA Medical Center’s Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. It looked like Witter had been right after all.

  * * *

  DANIEL LAY IN A HOSPITAL BED, hooked up to all sorts of machines. Candice sat on a chair next to him. She held his hand, rubbing the back with her thumb. She smiled as Sofia walked in. Dr. Mark told them he had to go speak to some of the other medical staff and promised he’d be back.

  “Hey,” said Sofia. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She was tongue-tied, like she had been with Dr. Mark, but for very different reasons.

  “Thanks for coming,” said Candice. “Brendan was here earlier but he couldn’t stay long.”

  “Hi, Daniel,” Sofia said.

  Daniel managed a weak smile. “Hey, gorgeous,” he croaked.

  This time, Sofia didn’t mind. She noticed that something in his eyes had changed. He seemed older. A lot older. She guessed he’d realized he was mortal after all. At the age of thirteen.

  “Can I bring you anything?” Sofia asked him. “Maybe a new game you want?”

  “I’m good, but thanks.”

  Candice stood up. “Come on,” she said to Sofia. “I need to get a cup of coffee.” She turned back to her son. “We won’t be long, honey. Just press the buzzer if you need me, ’kay?”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  Sofia followed her down the corridor and outside. Candice reached into her handbag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Sofia, who declined. Candice lit up and took a long drag. “Danny doesn’t like me smoking. I’d given up too. But this thing . . . I needed something to keep me going.’

  “So what happened? Last time I saw Daniel he was doing well.”

  “His kidneys are f
ailing a lot faster and a lot worse. It was real sudden. The doctors are saying we have maybe a week or two to find him a donor.”

  “Can’t they just keep him on dialysis?” Sofia asked.

  “They can, but it’s becoming less and less effective. Soon it might not work at all, and when that happens it’s just a matter of time. I tell you what, Sofia, if there was any way, any way at all, I could trade places with him right now, I would.”

  Sofia felt her throat tighten. For all that they’d had a chuckle at Candice’s wild ways before she’d had Daniel, there was no getting away from how much she loved her son.

  * * *

  SOFIA SPENT a little more time with Candice and Daniel, then decided it was time to head home. It had been a long day. Maybe one of the longest since she’d started working at Maloney Investigations. This was the other side of wanting to do something real. Real meant real people, real lives and high stakes. Even dealing with a murder was different from what they were facing with this investigation. After all, a murder case meant the person was already dead. There was no way they could bring them back. But they could, at least in theory, do something to help save Daniel’s life. And they were failing.

  Dr. Mark caught up with her in the corridor. “You eaten?”

  “No, but I need to head home.”

  “That’s a shame. I know a really good place close by.”

  Maybe dinner wouldn’t be the worst idea. And Candice had given her permission to talk to any of the medical team about Daniel’s condition. There was really no time like the present.

  “You do eat, don’t you? You’re not one of those LA girls who thinks a lettuce leaf and a glass of water every few hours makes for a balanced diet?”

  “That sounds like a challenge. What kind of place is it?”

  “Argentinian. Ribs. Steak. Anything meat that you can barbecue.”