by Sean Black
Sofia, Aidan, and Brendan took a table in back, where it was a little quieter and there was more space than up front. They ordered water all round, a club sandwich for Aidan, a classic Hollywood cobb salad for Brendan, and Sofia, who had skipped breakfast and was now starving, got the BLTA (A for Avocado).
When they were all settled with their food – there was enough to choke a horse – Brendan dropped another bombshell. “Just so you all know, we’re doing this case on a pro bono basis.”
Pro bono meant for free. It was something attorneys did occasionally, when it was a good cause and the client didn’t have the money to pay the usual fees. Maloney Investigations had done pro bono work in the past, but it was rare. Malibu overheads were expensive.
“We’re taking expenses, though, right?” said Aidan, recovering from the choking fit that had started with a mouthful of turkey and Brendan’s statement.
“No,” said Brendan. “We’re not. The well’s dry. Even with insurance, the family is already tapped out from all the medical bills.”
Sofia guessed if any case was deserving of pro bono status it was probably a kid who needed to find a donor match for a kidney transplant. Even if he had spent the entire hospital visit being grossly inappropriate toward her.
“Speaking of family,” said Sofia, before Aidan started in on how they couldn’t afford to take on a big case like this for free, “do we have any other possible family matches? Brothers? Sisters? Dad?”
Brendan took a sip of water. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about before we meet with Candice this afternoon. The father issue is a little sensitive.”
“Sensitive how?” Aidan asked.
“Candice isn’t exactly sure who Daniel’s father is. That’s what she wants us to help her with.”
Sofia and Aidan traded a look. Doesn’t know who the father is? Sofia tried to think it through before blundering in with a question that might upset Brendan. Under what circumstances would a woman not know who the father of her child might be? Sofia got it. Of course. It was kind of obvious. Because of the legal implications, it would make their task harder.
“Sperm donor?” she asked Brendan.
Brendan’s expression showed his discomfort.
Aidan grimaced. “Should have told them to hold the mayo,” he mumbled, putting down his sandwich.
“I know there can be heavy-duty privacy laws around women who use a sperm bank to conceive,” Sofia added, trying to be helpful.
“Can you stop saying ‘sperm’?” said Aidan. “Some of us are trying to eat.”
“Daniel wasn’t conceived using artificial insemination. We’re not facing any privacy or data-protection issues,” said Brendan.
In a way, that was good news. Data-protection laws were like a crucifix to a vampire for a private investigator. One had to tread extremely carefully, and the legal implications of mistakes could be pretty scary.
“So what’s the issue?” said Aidan.
Brendan cleared his throat. “Let’s just say there are a number of possible candidates.”
“A number?” said Sofia.
“Like how many?” Aidan followed up.
“That’s what Candice is coming in this afternoon to discuss.”
CHAPTER 14
T his was one time when Sofia was grateful for all the years she’d spent as an actress. It had been a superficial, vapid occupation that didn’t make much of a contribution to humanity or the greater good, but the ability to keep a straight face was really handy as she sat in Brendan’s office with Aidan and Candice.
“Now, let me see . . . Mo. I don’t think I actually slept with him until after – no, wait, it was just before I fell pregnant with Daniel.”
Sofia wasn’t sure Candice had fallen pregnant. ‘Falling’ suggested some kind of an accident she hadn’t seen coming, which it might have been. But from what she had already told them about her social life around the time she conceived Daniel, ‘leap’ or ‘somersault’ would have been a more accurate verb.
“Yeah, he’s definitely a contender,” Candice added cheerily.
“What’s his surname, Candice?” Brendan asked.
“Please, Brendan, will you call me Candy? ‘Candice’ makes me sound like an old lady.”
“Sorry,” said Brendan. “Now, can you remember Mo’s surname?”
Candice dug in her purse to check an incoming text message. “Of course I can. His name was Busch. Like the beer company. B-U-S-C-H.”
Aidan let out a loud snort. He tried to cover it by pretending he’d sneezed as Brendan glared at him from behind his desk.
“Sorry,” said Aidan. “Sinuses.”
“Okay,” said Brendan, jotting down the name on a piece of paper. “Thank you.”
Sofia was keeping a list of her own, using the Notes app on her cell phone. She counted nine names, ten if she included Mo Busch. And Candice was still going.
“Mo Busch,” repeated Brendan, as he jotted it down.
Aidan coughed loudly. “Sorry.” His eyes were watering from the effort of suppressing his laughter. When it came to what he found funny, Sofia was fairly confident that thirteen-year-old Daniel had a more sophisticated sense of humor.
“How many is that?” Candice asked.
Brendan counted down. “So far we have . . .” he paused “. . . erm . . . That’s nine names.”
“Ten, with Mo,” said Sofia.
“Oh, my,” said Candice. “That sounds like a lot.”
“It was a different time,” said Brendan, apparently trying for magnanimity.
Not that different, thought Sofia. It was 2001. They might have been called the noughties but, compared to the sixties and seventies, never mind the Tinder-crazy teenies, Sofia didn’t recall 2001 being noted as a time of sexual promiscuity.
Then again it was Los Angeles, and for anyone who was young, willing and able, sex probably wasn’t hard to come by, no matter the era. That probably went treble, maybe even quadruple, for a busty blonde, with baby blue eyes and a squeaky voice, who didn’t seem to have been overly choosy. Or maybe Sofia was just being prudish.
“Do you have Harvey down on that list, Brendy?” said Candice.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Brendan, running a finger down it.
Then again.
An incoming text popped up on Sofia’s phone. It was from Aidan: Brendy? WTH?
Sofia texted back: Told you so.
“Harvey’s last name?” prompted Brendan.
“Lemon,” said Candice.
“And do you have any idea where Harvey might be now?” Brendan asked.
“No clue. We haven’t been in touch in years.”
“What about after you became pregnant?” Sofia asked. “Did you speak to anyone back then?”
Sofia sure as hell would have. Her first call if she became pregnant would be to whomever she’d been sleeping with. Then again, it would be an infinitely shorter list – like maybe one person, two tops. Still, it wasn’t that unusual for women who became pregnant not to tell the father, even when they knew who he was. Sofia didn’t necessarily agree with cutting a baby’s father out, but she hadn’t been in that situation. Who knew what she’d do? Sofia could kid herself that she’d do the right thing, but the reality was often something else entirely. Especially if the father was some guy, or some ten guys, she barely knew.
“No,” said Candice. “There were one or two I tried to speak to about it, but as soon as they heard I was pregnant they disappeared off the radar.”
Sofia guessed that was the flip side of the coin. A lot of men heard the word ‘pregnant’ and headed straight for the hills.
“Okay,” said Brendan. “You can leave that part to us. We’ll speak to everyone we can locate. We can ask them to do a DNA test to establish paternity. I’m sure, once we explain the circumstances, at least some of them will be amenable. If they match that’s great, and if they don’t, we can eliminate them and concentrate on the others.”
Sofia wasn’t so su
re that was the case. She thought Brendan wasn’t either, but he had to tell Candice something. She, and Daniel, needed whatever encouragement they could get right now.
“Sound like a plan?” Brendan asked.
“Oh,” said Candice. “I just thought of someone else. I mean we only fooled around, but those little swimmers can really travel a distance sometimes. Know what I mean?”
Aidan developed another fit of sinus-related sneezing while Sofia had to focus extra hard to maintain her poker face. They were only going back a couple of months from the probable date of conception and now they were up to eleven possible fathers. The very early noughties really had been way naughty in Los Angeles. At least for Candice.
A fresh Aidan text popped up: Swimmers? That was one crowded pool.
Sofia shot back: Now who’s being gross, Mayo Man?
“Can you recall the name, Candy?” said Brendan.
“Let me see . . . let me see . . . He played for the Lakers. I remember that much. Hmm, maybe we did do more than fool around, now that I come to think of it. He was out injured when I ran into him. Lot of time on his hands.”
Sofia was staring at Candice. She couldn’t believe the woman was telling them all this. Who was that honest with a bunch of people they didn’t know? Especially about their sex life. Then again, people tended to view private investigators a bit like shrinks or priests. They probably figured that, like the latter, a private investigator had seen and heard it all, and was therefore unshockable. Usually Sofia would have agreed, but Candice was definitely challenging that idea. But they had to have the facts to help Daniel.
Brendan tapped at his computer keyboard. Sofia guessed he was busy Googling the Los Angeles Lakers roster of players from the 2001 season. He tapped another key and his printer whirred into life. He got up from behind his desk and walked round to collect the printout.
Candice looked around the room. “You all must really think I’m some kind of floozy.”
Everyone shook their head.
“Not at all,” said Brendan.
“You were young, free and single,” said Sofia.
“No way.” Aidan managed just two syllables.
His next text popped onto Sofia’s screen: What’s the mating call of a blonde?
Before Sofia could respond, the answer appeared: Do you guys all play on the same team?
She texted back: Stop!
Brendan handed Candice a couple of pieces of paper. “See if there’s anyone you recognize.”
Another text from Aidan: The mating call of a brunette?
Sofia didn’t answer. He sent it to her anyway: Has that blonde bitch left yet?
Stop! she replied.
Mating call of a redhead? There was a pause, then the answer: Next!
Sofia turned off her cell phone.
Candice ran her finger down the list of names. Wow. Just wow. Although for any proud LA party girl, bagging – or, more accurately, banging – an LA Laker was a pretty big achievement. Basketball players didn’t really do it for Sofia, but she could see the appeal. They were all in great shape, had lots of money (not to mention stamina), and she wouldn’t ever have to worry about wearing heels on a night out.
“Oh, he was a lot of fun,” said Candice, an immaculately manicured fingernail hovering over a name near the top. “But before Daniel.” She caught Sofia’s eye and shielded her mouth with her hand, so only Sofia could see what she was saying, then mouthed, “Huge!”
It was Sofia’s turn to fight back a laugh. Though at least she was laughing with Candice, not at her, like Aidan had been. A part of Sofia was kind of warming to the woman.
“Anyone else?” said Brendan, a hint of weariness seeping into his voice.
“Oh!” Candice squeaked excitedly. “Here he is. Wes Adams.”
“You dated Wes Adams?” Aidan’s voice was higher than usual. He sounded ten years old.
Wes Adams was a Lakers legend, not only an All Star, but also the best-looking NBA player of the time. Candice must have been rocking it even to have a brief fling with Wes. He had dated some of the biggest female movie stars in the world and a lot of supermodels. In his prime, Wes Adams was reported to have said that his one hundred percent infallible pick-up line, guaranteed to make panties hit the carpet, was “Hi, I’m Wes Adams.”
“Okay,” said Brendan. “We’ll talk to him.”
Aidan’s hand shot up, like that of a third-grader who needed permission to go to the little boys’ room. “I can take that one.”
From the look on his face it seemed Candice wasn’t the only one who’d had a crush on Wes. Aidan was usually not so enthusiastic about door-stepping people. He preferred to do most of his work from behind his three computer monitors in the outer office.
“Sure,” said Brendan.
“And that really is everyone,” Candice said. “All on your list.”
An even dozen. Like a carton of eggs, except the opposite.
“Candice, how about I walk you out to your car?” said Brendan.
“There’s nothing else I can help you with?” said Candice, sounding a little disappointed.
“I think we have enough to be going on with for now. I’ll keep you informed at all times.”
“Okay, then,” said Candice.
Brendan escorted her out of the office.
Aidan grinned at Sofia. “There goes your theory about my old man.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Come on! Wes Adams to my old man? That would be like going from the Lakers to play in Europe. Too much of a trade-down all at once.”
“What about the other guys?” Sofia said. “They weren’t Wes Adams.”
Aidan mulled it over. That seemed to take the wind out of his sails. “You really think Brendan and Candy?”
“Why don’t we ask Brendy?”
That got a laugh. “We?” said Aidan. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you ask him? I dare you.”
“You dare me? What are you? Twelve?”
“You chicken?”
“No.”
“Well, then!”
“Maybe I will. But because I’m curious, not because you dared me.”
“Dared you to do what?” said Brendan, who was standing in the doorway, dabbing away the lipstick from his cheek with a damp tissue.
Sofia could feel Aidan staring at her. If she didn’t ask, she’d never hear the end of it. “There’s something I wanted to ask you about our new client.”
“Good. Step into my office. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about in any case.”
Brendan disappeared. Aidan grinned at her as he sat down at his desk. “Want me to start packing your stuff for you?”
CHAPTER 15
Brendan still had a little smudge of Candice’s lipstick on his cheek. Sofia pointed out where it was and he rubbed it away with the tissue. “Gone?” he asked.
“Yup.” Now she was sitting across from him, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to ask him about Candice. For one thing, it really wasn’t any of her business. And, it was hardly likely to impact the case, unless of course . . .
If Brendan and Candice had been intimate, they’d need a DNA test from Brendan. Now that would be an awkward conversation. But it was practically her duty to find out.
She thought of Aidan back in the main office, ready to call her on it if she didn’t ask.
“What did you want to ask me about?” said Brendan.
“It can wait.”
“If it saves me from being followed – badly, I might add – by the two of you, I’d rather you just asked me.”
Sofia took a deep breath. Time to bite the bullet. “Did you and Candice ever?”
“Ever what?”
“Did you guys ever . . . you know?”
This was tougher than she’d anticipated. And Brendan wasn’t about to make it easier for her.
“No, I don’t know. I need you to tell me.”
“Did you ever have sex?” Sofia blurted.
“No
, I did not have sex with Candice. For one thing, I was married when I knew her, and I never cheated on Aidan’s mom. And for another, even if I’d been unfaithful, which I wasn’t, sleeping with a CI would have gotten me fired.”
“CI?”
“Confidential informant,” Brendan explained. “Candice, as you probably guessed, knew a lot of people on the party scene. That made her an excellent source of information about all manner of things the LAPD was interested in.”
For the second time that day Sofia felt really dumb. Of course Brendan hadn’t been sleeping around. “Are you annoyed I asked you?” she said, tentative.
“I’d have been annoyed if you hadn’t. That’s what this case is about, so we all have to jump in with both feet,” said Brendan. “So? Mystery solved?”
“Yes, thanks. You wanted to talk to me about something as well?”
It was Brendan’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Yes, I . . . I don’t know if . . .” He cracked his knuckles.
“Brendan, whatever it is, I promise not to be offended.” It was the least she could do after her own question.
“It’s not a matter of being offended.” Brendan stopped again.
“And?” she prompted.
“Okay, here’s the thing. Some cases can become personal. It’s almost inevitable that this one will, just like your question to me.”
Sofia was sure that she hadn’t slept with Candice, so she didn’t see how this could get personal. “All right.”
“And,” said Brendan. “We’re going to be trying to find Daniel’s biological father.”
Suddenly Sofia knew where this was going. Brendan was worried the case would stir up old feelings about her own absent father. Or that she would get too personally involved and it would disrupt her ability to work the case. “Brendan, it’s fine.”
“I just thought it might touch a nerve,” said Brendan.
“I doubt it,” said Sofia. “I know who my father is. At least, I know his name. But after he abandoned my mom, sister and me, I decided I didn’t want anything more to do with him. I won’t have a problem with this case.”
