“Julian,” he corrected. “And this is Brenda Leigh. And for the record, I spell Leigh L-E-I-G-H, which is the correct way. Not L-E-E.”
“You might win, Julian, but I’d be the show’s number two fan. I wish I was still acting. I’d have tried for a role on the show, even if I was just a dead body.”
“Especially if you’d been a dead body.”
I laughed. So did he. Then Julian said, “I didn’t steal their art and replace it with forgeries.”
Now, this might sound as if I’m a very bad amateur detective, but I believed him and said as much. “I believe you. But maybe you heard or saw something suspicious over the last few months? The Giffords had more paintings replaced with forgeries than the other homes. I don’t think someone managed that in just one visit, which means they had to be in and out.”
“Sorry. I bought the house because it was private. That’s nice for me but doesn’t help you. The only thing I’ve ever heard is occasionally some music if the Giffords have a gathering outside. That’s rare.”
“Have you ever been inside their house?”
He laughed. “I’m a football player. I don’t exactly belong in their social circle. I know that I don’t because Mrs. Gifford said those exact words to me. You are just a football player.” He had her haughty tone pegged.
“She not impressed by maids either, if it makes you feel better.”
“We’re kindred spirits,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to go out with me some night?”
I was the thirty-eight year old mother of three teen boys. I’d dated sporadically over the years since my divorce but not often. And I’d never had so many men flirt with me or ask me out. I sucked in my stomach, something I’d been trying to remember to do, and I wondered if that was the reason?
“Mr. Mello—”
“Julian,” he corrected.
“Julian, I’m so flattered you asked, but I’m seeing someone.”
“Just seeing?” he asked, a gleam in his eye. “I mean you’re not engaged or married or anything?”
I couldn’t help it, I was charmed. “No, neither of those. But despite the fact I’m flattered, very flattered, I still have to say no.”
“Then you’re not officially off the market and I have a shot. Why don’t we meet for coffee some morning? That’s not a real date it’s just…coffee.”
“Really, I’m flattered, but no. I’m not a dating-two-men at once sort of woman.”
He sighed a long, deep sigh. “Well, if you dump this other guy, call me.” He reached to the table and pulled a wallet out of a bowl and removed a business card. “That bottom number’s my cell.”
“What if the other guy dumps me?” I asked, taking the card.
He smiled and set Brenda Leigh down on the floor.
“He won’t. You’re a keeper, I can tell.”
“Tell that to my ex,” I teased without any bitterness.
“He must be a man of very limited vision.”
I laughed and nodded my agreement. “If you think of anything else that might help us, I’d appreciate it. I don’t want this theft—a theft we had nothing to do with other than inadvertently uncovering—to impact my business.”
“Why don’t you give me your card? I could use a cleaning service.”
I looked around the very neat foyer, then at the table that had a large bowl where Julian kept his keys and wallet. “You seem to have everything under control.”
“But it would be easier if someone else was helping me.”
I got a card and handed it to him. “I’d be happy to talk to you about business,” I said, wanting to be sure he was clear about the fact I was dating.
“And I’ll be happy to wait around and see if you change your mind about that coffee. I’ll call your office about the cleaning, and if I think of anything else I’ll call about that.”
“Thanks, Mr. Mello.” It seemed safer to refer to him formally, as I did the rest of my clients. I didn’t want to give him ideas that any calls would be anything but work.
“Julian,” he corrected again.
I didn’t want to insult him, so I repeated, “Julian.”
That didn’t get me any closer to finding the thief, but hey, I might have found a new client.
“Why Quincy Mac, you were flirting,” Dick said with delight as we walked back to the car.
“I was not. I’m happily involved with Cal. I don’t flirt with other men when I’m involved with someone else.” I paused and added, “Well, except for Big G, but that’s just kidding, not serious.”
“Yeah? Well you were flirting with Julian Mello, and I don’t think he was kidding at all.”
I laughed. “I’m a thirty-eight-year-old mother of three. I’m not the type of woman men flirt with. Especially not football players who could have pretty much anyone they wanted to.”
Dick shook his head. “You don’t know how attractive you are. That’s a dangerous thing, Quincy.”
I snorted.
Attractive women don’t snort.
And I hadn’t been flirting with Julian Mello. I was investigating him, and he was flirting with me.
There’s a big difference.
But I felt a little guilty all the same.
After all, I was married to a man who cheated. I am not a perfect person, but I am not a cheater.
I mulled over my interactions with Julian on the drive home. I thanked Dick for his help. “Meet on Tuesday?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
He left for home, and I went inside.
“Hello?” I called.
“I’m in your room, Quincy. The boys are out. They called and said they’d be home before nine. They’re eating out.”
I went back to my room and found my mother packing. My father had flown out on Saturday, but my mother had stayed.
“So, you’re going?” I asked.
“Don’t sound so relieved.” She smiled to let me know she was teasing.
“I’m glad you came.” Most of her visits I’d said those exact words, but normally what I meant was I’m-glad-you’re-going-home. This time, I meant what I said, I was glad she’d come.
My response must have surprised my mom. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
“I am, too. I can’t believe how adult your boys are. Hunter’s in college and next year Miles, then Eli the year after.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me. Some days I long for an empty nest. I like to imagine going to the grocery store and getting up the next morning and having food still in the house. And really, I’m not sure I can even fathom what cleaning the house and having it stay cleaned would be like. Then the boys go on vacation with their dad, or get busy, like they’ve been with this play, and I have the house pretty much to myself and I realize…I hate it.” I shrugged. “It sounds stupid.”
“I know exactly what you mean. When you kids were young, I always felt I was being torn. I wanted to be a good mom, but I wanted to be a good doctor, too. And I’m afraid that there were times I picked my career over my children. Your brothers didn’t seem that affected by my choices, but you...” Her sentence trailed off, but I could see that she’d given this subject thought and it bothered her.
“Mom, I’m fine. I have a great life, a great business. You must have done something right to have such a marvelous daughter,” I teased. This wasn’t like my mother. Not like her at all.
“No, it wasn’t me or anything I did. You are marvelous but I had nothing to do with it. I’ve always been awed by your sense of adventure. Letting you leave for Hollywood with those stupid glasses Lottie gave you…” She gave herself a little shake. “It was hard. There was so much I wish I’d have done and said then. But you came out here and built a life. A wonderful life. I know you think I’m not proud of you, but I am. You could have been anything—”
Here we go, I thought. She was going to tell me how I could have gone to college and then to medical school and had a stellar, doctorly career.
Instead she said, “And you became exactly who and what you were meant to be. That’s a rare gift.”
“Mom…” I started, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Now, enough of this. I have a cab on its way.” It was as if a curtain dropped back over the warm-mushy mother I’d just glimpsed and her Dr. Judith Quincy Mac mask slipped back into place. “I don’t want to miss my flight. I have to be back in my office in the morning.”
She picked up her suitcase and rolled it down the hall. “Call me and keep me posted on the art heist.”
“I will,” I said, following her.
“And Quincy, be careful. I know that you think you’ve got it all under control, but whoever stole those paintings could be dangerous. I love you.” She kissed my cheek.
I stood there my hand on my cheek as I watched her get in her cab and leave without a backwards look.
Either Peri was contagious, or my mother had been replaced by some robotic pod-person.
Yes, I know, pod-people aren’t robots.
They’re aliens.
Geesh.
The house seemed even quieter than usual after mom left. I made myself a chicken potpie and ate it in front of the white-board.
Halfway through my dinner, I got up, took a marker and drew devil horns over Miriam’s name.
It was petty. Childish even. But I felt better for it.
Cal stopped in at seven looking drawn and tired.
“Long day?” I asked.
“I don’t think I’ve slept more than four hours at a stretch in forever,” he said as he stumbled to my couch and flopped back against the cushions. “Your mom got home okay?”
“Yeah.”
He looked wiped.
“Do you want to talk about your day?”
“No. Tell me about yours.”
“I talked to the last woman whose paintings were stolen.” I waited for him to explode and start informing me I wasn’t an investigator, to leave it to his friend.
He didn’t. He snuggled deeper into the couch cushion. “Uh-huh.”
“She’s not a particularly nice human being, but that being said, I guess if someone had been in my house stealing things, I might be a little less than cordial.”
“There’s that,” he agreed with his eyes shut.
“And then we talked to her neighbor, who has a key to her house. I don’t think he had anything to do with it. But…uh…”
Confession was good for the soul. I didn’t want to be a cheat like my ex. And even if it didn’t mean anything, I thought there was a chance that Dick was right. “He flirted with me. And asked me out. I told him I was dating someone, and I didn’t date around and he said if we weren’t engaged or married, it’s okay, but I don’t think it is. Dick thought I flirted back. Now, I know I flirt with Big G, but the two of us are just kidding. I don’t think I really flirted with Julian, but I believe a relationship can’t function if the people aren’t honest so I wanted to tell you.”
“Did you want to go out with him?” His eyes were open now and he was studying me in that intense cop-way of his.
I laughed. “I only met him, so I didn’t know him well enough to know, but that doesn’t matter. I’m dating you, so I wouldn’t date him even if I did want to.”
He sat up at that and his voice seemed chilly as he said, “You know Dick’s right. We’re not married or engaged. And after a month, neither of us is ready for that. We’ve never discussed if this…” He waved his hand between the two of us, “…is exclusive or not.”
“No, we haven’t,” I said slowly. Here’s the thing, if I’ve dated someone more than a couple times, if I talk to them daily on the phone, if I spend a great deal of time thinking about them every day, I consider us in an exclusive relationship. But I wasn’t going to say that now.
“Did you want to go out with him?”
“Would you mind if I did?” I countered.
“I think we just established I wouldn’t have the right to mind.” He sounded mad.
“Well, then if you don’t mind, maybe I will call him,” I said, feeling angry as well.
And Cal was right, we’d just established I didn’t have a reason to be angry, but I was.
“Maybe you should.” He looked at his watch—who wears watches anymore anyway? He stood up. “I should go and see if I can catch a few winks before I have to go back into work.”
He stormed out of the house.
What had just happened? I was trying to be honest. I told him I wasn’t interested in dating anyone else, and he practically threw me at that someone else.
I stared at the door. I sort of felt like crying. But I cried all my tears over men back when I was married to Jerome. I vowed I was done with that.
This was simply a first fight.
Every couple fought.
Not that we were a couple. We’d established that.
Every inch of me wanted to curl up on the couch, wrap myself in a blanket, and eat ice cream while watching old movies.
Instead, I decided to work on the case.
I dug out Dick’s computer guru’s phone number and called.
He picked up on the first ring. “Quincy. What do you need?”
I was a little taken aback by his abruptness, but I forged ahead. “I was wondering if you’d do some more work for me.”
“For the right price,” he said.
I could hear clicking in the background, and I was pretty sure it was typing on a keyboard. “Do you need to go?” I asked.
“No, why?” There was more clicking.
“About payment. I wondered if you’d like to barter your skills for mine?”
The clicking stopped. “In what way?” he asked.
“You run a search and Mac’Cleaners will clean your house.”
“You personally?” Suddenly the distracted computer expert was replaced by a…man. A man who made that question sound flirty.
I’d had enough of flirting today. “No. I’ll send out one of my employees.”
“Fine. Doesn’t matter who you send. My house is a bit…well, I’ll probably owe you a few searches. What do you need?”
I filled him in on Graham and Meyers Associates. “I need to know specifically about John Meyer.”
“Fine.”
“Can I send you a Mac’Cleaner’s client survey? You can tell us what jobs you want done. Your likes. Dislikes. That kind of thing.”
“Email it.”
He hung up.
Robert Williams was a man who needed to learn a bit more about manners and social niceties.
I was just hanging up the phone when I heard a car in the drive.
My first thought was Cal had come back. I felt a surge of relief.
Then the door banged and that momentary relief evaporated. “Mom, guess what?” Miles burst into the room, his excitement almost palpable.
“What?” I asked.
Eli came in after him.
“We have a chance to catch a ride to Hunter’s this weekend. We’d leave Friday night and be back Sunday night. Alex’s family’s going down. Hunter already talked to his roommate and he’s okay with us crashing on the floor.”
“I don’t know—”
“Before you tell us no, listen. We’ll sign a pledge. No drinking, no anything you wouldn’t approve of. We’ll give ourselves a midnight curfew. And we’ll call when we’re back in Hunter’s dorm room and—”
“Boys…” I started, but I didn’t know what to say. Next year at this time, Miles would have his own dorm room. The year after that, it would be Eli. I’d given them all the tools, all the lectures…I’d taught them everything I could. “Are Alex’s family going to be nearby the whole weekend?”
“Yeah. They’ve got a hotel just off campus, so if we have any problems, they’d be close. I’ll give you their cell numbers and—”
The phone rang.
Now, back when I was a kid, if the house phone rang, we raced my parents to get it. I remember fighting with the boys over whose
turn it was to talk.
“Are you guys going to get it?” I asked.
Miles and Eli looked blank.
“The phone?”
They both laughed together. “Mom,” Miles said, “It’s not for us. I don’t think anyone we know even has the house line number. Landlines are so useless. If our friends want us, they call our cells.”
Really, they were right. I couldn’t remember the last time my landline rang. It was probably a telemarketer. I could just let it go to voicemail, but in the end I got in some Pavlovian need to answer a ringing phone.
“Hello?” I said.
“Quincy, it’s Julian.”
“Hi, Julian. Did you think of something?” I asked, my fight with Cal still fresh on my mind.
“No. But I thought I’d see if you’d changed your mind about that coffee. Listen, I don’t want to seem stalkerish, it’s just we seemed to click. I mean, you love The Closer…I love The Closer.”
“Julian we just had this talk.” I’d told him I was seeing someone and I didn’t cheat, but the someone in question didn’t see any reason I couldn’t go out with someone else.
“You didn’t just tell me. You told me earlier today. A lot could have happened from then to now.” He paused a moment and added, “And really, two The Closer fans meeting for coffee…how much more innocent could that be? And we could talk about the spinoff. I’m loving Major Crimes, too.”
Julian was right. A lot had happened. Cal was practically throwing me at him. And seriously, two fans talking about television shows, how much more innocent could it be. “Just coffee?” I asked.
“Yes. And to keep it legit, you can grill me about the neighborhood and I’ll give you the client’s survey and schedule my first cleaning.”
I couldn’t help myself. He was charming. “Yes. Tuesday? We can meet at Pattycake’s Pancake House.” Pattycake’s was the most innocent place I could think of for two people having business coffee.
“Sure. I swear, I have no nefarious plans. Just coffee. Two people who might make good friends hanging out.”
I didn’t want to date anyone but Cal, but Cal didn’t care. “Fine. Coffee. And we’ll talk about your neighbor’s house and any visitors you might remember.”
“It’s a deal. See you the day after tomorrow.”
Dusted (A Maid in LA Mystery) Page 8