Steamed (A Maid in LA Mystery)

by Holly Jacobs

  I picked up my tray and walked away from him.

  “Quincy, I’m sorry,” he called.

  I turned around. “That’s Ms. Mac to you. And although it isn’t nearly as glamorous as acting and winning a Mortie, or being a serious detective chasing down a lead, the fact is, I have a job to do, and like I told you when you asked me about cleaning that apartment, I take my work very seriously and I do an excellent job.”

  I walked away, tray of shrimp puffs offered from one person to the next, then I headed into the kitchen. Honey took one look at me and said, “What on earth is wrong? Did someone try and grope you? I know how the rich and famous can treat the help.”

  “It’s been so long, I’d consider someone copping a feel a compliment. That’s a sad comment, but there it is.” That had to be why I’d found Serious Parker attractive…I was desperate. He was probably a troll and I’d simply overlooked it because of my current male drought. “I’m going to go make a couple more rounds.”

  I took another tray of shrimp puffs and walked back into the crowd. I spotted the detective on the north end of the building—Okay, confession. I have no sense of direction. I know that there’s a north, south, east and west, but other than that, I don’t have a clue. Here in California, if you see the ocean, it’s a safe best that’s west or at least westerly, but otherwise, I’ve got nothing. Cal was standing by the main entrance to the room, so that felt like north to me. Because he was there, I headed toward the pseudo-south side of the room.

  I spotted Shaley Banning. I recognized her from pictures, but someone had photoshopped those pics because in real life I had an instant impression of the daughter in Legally Blonde. I saw the musical a couple years back and loved it. But even if you never saw the musical, you remember the daughter from the movie? The fact the daughter washed her hair after a perm proved she was the murderer? Well, Shaley’s hair looked as if a perm couldn’t hurt. It was straight and lifeless.

  I passed-puffs my way over to her. “Puff?” I asked as I offered her the platter.

  “No.”

  She was seated at a table all by herself. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  I set the tray down and took the seat next to her. I knew from my research that this girl was only a year older than my Hunter. “Are you sure, honey?”

  She sniffled. “My dad used to call me that. Hold on, honey, he’d say. He’d finish whatever he was typing, slam his laptop close and rest his elbows on its neon case and say, okay, I’m listening, honey. I’m pretty sure he called all women honey, just so he mixed them up—there were a lot of them. But still, it was almost a pet-name.”

  In a creepy sort of way, I thought, but wisely didn’t say out loud. “Used to?”

  “He’s dead. I’m in mourning. And I’m pretty sure that if my mom hadn’t had this party planned, she’d have thrown one to celebrate.”

  “Not fond of each other?”

  Shaley laughed. It was a hard brittle sound of someone much older. “That’s an understatement. They’re recently divorced.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. They never should have married. I think my father married her to keep her from suing for child support. It also got her to sign a pre-nup. I think he did a cost analysis and decided it was cheaper that way.”

  I must have looked surprised that she was so to-the-point.

  “I realize he was a bastard. He cheated on Mom my whole life. He pretty much ignored me. I got into Yale, but only made it through a term. He didn’t pay the spring tuition because Mom was giving him grief. So here I am, back in LA, reapplying to less expensive schools. I was so mad at him. And now he’s dead.”

  “You have every right to be angry.”

  “Maybe. But right now…” She shrugged her shoulders, as if she wasn’t sure what else to say.

  And I hugged her. I hugged her because she had a lousy mother who’d been so wrapped up in herself that she didn’t see how traumatized her daughter was and went through with her party anyway. I hugged her for her dead father, who’d been a less than marvelous father when he was alive. I even added an extra squeeze because when Shaley started to feel better and looked in a mirror, she was going to be horrified by her hair.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  “You’re the nicest cater-waiter I’ve ever met.”

  “No. I’m the first cater-waiter that doesn’t really care if I lose my job and let you see that I’m nice. See, Auggie over there?” I pointed to a kid who wasn’t much older than she was. “He works these things for Honey because he’s paying his way through school and the money’s good. He lives in a two bedroom apartment with three other guys, and Honey sends home leftover food because she doesn’t think any of them eat well.”

  “The other guys are struggling students, too?”

  “Worse. They’re struggling actors.”

  That made her laugh.

  “Everyone has a story, sweetie,” I said. “Some just hide it better than others. Maybe your father had a story you don’t know about.”

  She looked thoughtful a moment. “He does—did—have a new girlfriend who seems—seemed—different than some of the other ones. Maybe my dad had a story and wasn’t the jerk I thought he was?”

  I was pretty sure that Steve Banning was exactly the jerk both Shaley and I thought he was. I felt a stab of sympathy for his new girlfriend, but I didn’t say so. If the new girlfriend had discovered he was a big jerk, that might give her motive. But right now I couldn’t think about suspects, I had to think about the young woman in front of me.

  “Maybe, honey. He was your dad, and no matter what, he loved you in his own way.”

  She sniffed again. “Thank you. No one else has had one nice thing to say about him.”

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  She looked over at Auggie. “Do you think this Honey might consider giving me a job? My mom is more worried about keeping up appearances in order to catch a new husband. She’s not going to help me with college costs.”

  Gossip had it that Shaley was going to inherit whatever money her father had left. I hoped it was enough for her to go back to Yale. But even if it was, working for something is a great life lesson. “I’ll put in a good word for you. Honey’s back in the kitchen. Why don’t you sneak back there and introduce yourself when things out here wind down? Tell her I sent you.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “I didn’t ask your name.”

  Of course she hadn’t. Until a few minutes ago, I’d been invisible. But she saw me now, and I suspected in the future that she’d see other things clearer as well. “Quincy. Quincy Mac.”

  “Well, thank you, Quincy Mac.”

  I picked up the tray of rather cold puffs and started making the rounds again. There’s something comforting about being invisible. I pasted on a social smile, asked, “Shrimp puff?” and thought.

  Banning had a new girlfriend. Someone who seemed different to Shaley. I’d have do some investigating and find out a name.

  “Shrimp puff?”

  It would have been easier to ask Shaley the new girlfriend’s name, but I couldn’t use her.

  “Shrimp puff?”

  “What was that all about?” Detective Not-So-Friendly jerked his head in Shaley’s direction.

  I thought I was on the east side of the ballroom. Drat my sense of direction—or rather my lack thereof.

  “What was what all about? I’m just passing out shrimp puffs. Either take one, or get out of my way, I need to clear this tray.”

  He took one and said, “The girl. I saw you talking to, then hugging the girl.”

  I gave him a mom-look and he shoved the puff in his mouth and reached for another, presumably to keep me talking.

  “The poor girl said she’s lost her father recently. I was comforting her. That’s what moms do. They comfort.”

  “Don’t try a mom-card. You know she’s Banning’s daughter.�
��

  “She is?” I thought back to acting class with Mr. Magee, and tried for my best innocent eye-bat.

  “Obstruction,” he said in a low, menacing warning. Then he shoved the puff in his mouth.

  It’s hard to look menacing with a puff in your mouth.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He took another puff, but rather than waiting around to hear what else he had to say, I left and circulated with the rest of my tray.

  I finished the night off, told Honey about Shaley. Honey’s daughter is seventeen and she’s mom enough to know how deeply kids can hurt, so she was sympathetic and promised to help.

  There’s a difference between moms and mothers. Shaley had a mother—someone who was genetically tied to her, but from where I stood, wasn’t very emotionally invested. Honey was a mom. She’d do anything for Trixie…well, except give the poor girl a better nickname. Trixie was really Beatrix. And Honey, being a fan of the Trixie Belden series, and not a fan at all of her mother-in-law from whom her daughter got her name, called her Trixie. Honey and Trixie? I’d read the books and got it.

  I’m not sure Honey’s ex or his mother ever got it, but they hated Trixie’s nickname.

  Anyway, Honey was a mom first and foremost. She would take Shaley under her wings.

  I thought about Shaley’s mother.

  Granted she wasn’t mommish in the least. And Shaley had said she was using what money she had to keep up appearances and snag a new husband.

  Murdering an ex wouldn’t help with the appearances, or with the new husband.

  I didn’t think I’d find the murderer, let alone have him look at me and confess, Yep, I did it. I wanted to look at the suspects and get a feel for them.

  I didn’t think Shaley or her mom had killed Banning. I could always come back and take another look if needs be, but for now, I was going to push ahead with other suspects.

  Quincy Mac, PI was still in business.

  Only problem was, she didn’t have any idea what to try next.

  Chapter Five

  That night, I put an X through Shaley and Shannon’s pictures. No, I didn’t have any proof, but until I found information that changed my mind, I didn’t think it was either of them. As a mom, I’d learned to trust my gut. When Miles was five, he said no to a donut one morning and I knew, with absolute certainty, that something was wrong.

  I’d taken him to the doctor’s office, and he confirmed he had a double ear infection. So for now, I’d trust my gut.

  That left Banning’s current girlfriend—a girlfriend who Shaley thought was different than the others. I needed to find out who she was and check her out. But more than the new girlfriend, there was the other wife. After all, nothing says murder like a woman scorned. I’d watched enough murder mysteries to know that.

  And having been a scorned wife… Well, there had been times I felt like killing Jerry, but I’d never acted on it.

  He was an awful husband.

  A questionable human being.

  But he was a good father.

  Had Tessa Compernalli ever thought about murdering her ex? And had she’d gone beyond thinking and acted? And Banning’s new girlfriend? I wasn’t sure who she was, but if the panties and bra at his house weren’t hers, she might have motive. The file said DOG after all. Again, that woman scorned thing.

  The two of them were the next step in my investigation.

  I did some Googling and started scribbling in my file. I didn’t find any articles that linked Banning to a new woman. I sighed. I didn’t want to go back to Shaley for the same reason I didn’t press her at the party—she was hurting. But there was another way. I knew who might know who Banning was dating. The question was, how to get Cal to share that information?

  I took a piece of paper and drew a circle and wrote new girlfriend under it, then posted it on my board next to the pictures of Banning’s exes.

  So, Tessa, NG and…

  Finally, there was Tiny. She wasn’t on my suspect list and I refused to put her picture on my board but she’d be on the cops’ list if they found out about the pictures Banning had taken. If I couldn’t find the real killer, I’d have to check out her alibi. Not that I thought she could do it, but to be ready if Cal found out about the pictures and checked into her.

  There was a lot to do.

  I needed to focus. Tessa was the best suspect left on my list. I’d start with her, then I’d find out who the new girlfriend was and see if she did it. Maybe they were her panties, but if not, I’d have to see if I could find out who they did belong to.

  Now, the question was, how to get to Tessa?

  It was three a.m. when it hit me. I knew how to get to her.

  I was getting ready to leave for the office in the morning, anxious to implement my plan when the phone rang. Phone calls before work were rarely good things. “Hello?” I answered with trepidation.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  It was my youngest, Eli and he sounded happy. Relief flooded through my body. “Hi, honey. How’s vacation?”

  “We’re trying to teach Peri to surf. She’s worse than you. You’re awful.” He laughed. That was Eli in a nutshell. He found humor in everything.

  “Hey, I resemble that remark,” I teased.

  “Hunter wanted me to see if you’re getting out at all? I’m supposed to be discreet, but we both know that I don’t do that well. And yes, that’s the word he used—discreet. Are you sure he’s related to me? A normal teen would say something more like do it on the sly. But be discreet?”

  “Your brother may be leaving for college next month, but in reality, he’s an old man.” To be honest, a more accurate explanation was that my oldest got a full dose of the Mac-genes. They were responsible for my brothers and parents need to excel at everything. It was why they were all doctors. It was why they were all top in their respective fields.

  I did not have that gene. I had the black-sheep-gene. One that made you follow your own path, even if it led to your utter destruction. My uncle had it. I had it. I was pretty sure that Eli had it, but I wasn’t going to mention it to him. I try not to label my kids.

  “You can tell Mr. Nosey-Rosy that I was at a posh party last night, and I might have a date tonight.” Now, date was a rather broad term for my plans to grill Cal about his investigation, but it wasn’t an out-and-out lie.

  “Really?” He sounded shocked. As if the thought of my dating had never really occurred to him.

  “Yes, a date. With a man and everything,” I threw in for good measure.

  That made him laugh.

  “Go have fun with your dad and Peri.”

  “Miles will call tomorrow,” he said. The boys did that a lot. Split up the days they called. Oh, sometimes they’d all say hi, but generally one son per day talked to me.

  “Tell him not to call too early.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got a date. A hot date. You might even be out past nine,” Eli said. I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  I headed into the office.

  The cheery sign greeted me as I walked to the front door. Mac’Cleaners. We had a MacLean tartan ribbon woven around the letters. Yes, my family’s original surname was MacLean but when my great-grandfather moved to the United States they lost the ‘Lean’ part and became Mac. That was fair because from all reports, Donald MacLean was not a lean man. His first name was from his mother’s side of the family, the McDonalds. When he moved here, he became Don Mac. Short and to the point, I guess.

  People in my family tended to give one child in each generation the benefit of both family names. My mom was Judith Quincy. Hence, my name, Quincy Mac.

  I’d complain about my name but really it could be worse. Much worse. My parents decided to honor Dad’s Scottish heritage when they named my brothers. Gilliean Mull Mac and Malise Duart Mac. The original Gilliean founded the clan and Malise was his son. And the MacLean family home is Castle Duart on the island of Mull. Gilliean goes by Gil Mac. But poor Malise it was eithe
r Mal Mac (awful) or Duart Mac (still not good). He goes by Duart Mac because it was the lesser of two evils. We all call him Art.

  Well, unless I’m mad at him, then he’s Mal Mac.

  He hates that.

  Really, of the three of us, I got the best of it. Quincy Mac. And using a variation of my historic last name for the business just made sense. All the cute, play-on-words cleaning names were taken and this one played right into our profession.

  I’m not sure why thoughts of the company’s name and my own family names were on my mind today. Never mind, I did know. Because it was easier to think about my family’s weird names than worrying about murder investigations.

  I opened the door and went in.

  The light was on in Tiny’s office, aka wedding central. For the first time ever, I didn’t want to go in and face her. But I wasn’t a coward, so I went in.

  While all the wedding paraphernalia still was the focal point of her decorating scheme, there was no wedding-mania in her expression. No, there was just an exhausted looking woman sitting at her desk.

  “Tiny?”

  She looked up.

  Tiny had been my best friend since Jerry dumped me and I moved into an apartment next to hers. She helped with the boys. She got me a job at the cleaning service she worked for. She held my hand through the divorce. I’d like to think I’d given her the same kind of support, but truth be told, there was no way I’d ever be able to pay her back for all her kindnesses.

  Keeping her off Cal’s suspect list would be a start though.

  “Hey. How are you holding up?” she asked.

  That was Tiny in a nutshell. She looked like crap, but she was worried about me.

  “I’m fine. I know this isn’t a good time but I’m going to be out of the office a bit more than usual for a few days.”

  “Is it about the murder?”

  I didn’t want to answer and involve Tiny any more than she already was. “Listen, I can see you’re still upset. Don’t be. I’ll take care of it.”

  “But what if Sal finds out and—”

  “Sal is going to find out because you’re going to tell him. You’re going to tell him everything.”