Sleuthing for a Living (Mackenzie & Mackenzie PI Mysteries Book 1)

by Jennifer L. Hart

  And then we were at the door. "Open it," Dole ordered.

  "I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered and turned the deadbolt and reached for the handle.

  The door exploded in, knocking me back into the doctor. A defining boom resounded as the gun went off and a familiar burn stole my sight, clogged my nose, and made me gag.

  Mom had spritzed us both with pepper spray.

  Even with the ringing in my ears, I heard Dole curse. I tried to roll away from him, but rendered temporarily deaf and blind, all I really managed to do was flail like a fish tossed on the bank. I coughed and choked and sputtered for untold amounts of time before someone dragged me to the side of the room, got me a handful of wet paper towels, and stroked my hair.

  My vision cleared first, though it wasn't exactly twenty/twenty. Agnes sat next to me, soggy paper towels in hand. She moved to replace them, but I shook my head then pointed to my nose. She handed me a box of tissues, which I used liberally. Mac knelt next to me. I could see her lips moving, but the ringing was getting worse, not better. I pointed to my ears and did a palms-up.

  Mac turned and waved someone over. Dark boots and jeans appeared, and Hunter Black knelt down in front of me, his dark gaze assessing the mess.

  "Sorry I hung up on you." I must have spoken loudly because several heads turned our direction. "It was an accident, I swear."

  He tucked some hair behind my ear and touched a spot so sore it made me flinch. His gaze darkened, and he turned to Mac. I watched Mac's lips move and Hunter said something back. I was feeling dizzy again, so I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.

  Someone tapped my knee. I opened my eyes and saw a yellow legal pad with the word hospital written on it.

  I looked from the word to Hunter's face. "You aren't asking, are you?"

  Slowly he shook his head.

  I sighed. "Fine. Mac, stay close."

  She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. I'd take that as a yes.

  * * *

  Six hours later I was seated comfortably on my couch, my hearing and sight mostly restored. The headache persisted though, even after a hot shower. The doctor had advised that we treat my head injury like a concussion, meaning someone had to wake me up every two to three hours. And have said person or people ask irritatingly idiotic questions every time cracked an eyelid.

  There were plenty of volunteers, but I knew who I had to talk with first.

  "What in the name of java were you doing there?" I bellowed at my daughter when we were alone. "If you wanted to talk to me you could have called. Or texted."

  "I wasn't there to see you. I went there to talk to him." Mac flushed.

  "How did you even know he was at Len's office?"

  "I tracked his cell phone."

  I blew out a sigh. "Well, cat's out of the bag now. I'm sorry, hon. None of this would have happened if I'd just fessed up yesterday."

  Mac picked at a thread on her shirt. "Nona told me why you didn't. You know nobody could ever replace you, right?"

  I reached out and pulled her into a hug, the motion making my head pound. It was worth the added misery, as children always were. "I know, but buried underneath my outer exterior of goddess-like fabulousness, you're mom's an insecure neurotic mess."

  That got me a snort. "Not too deep underneath."

  "Wiseass. Now, go get Calamity Jane and make sure she isn't packing heat."

  Mac left, and Snickers hopped up onto my lap. She turned three circles before plunking down into a tight little ball of fluff.

  "Oh, are we gonna be friends now?" I stroked her fur in a slow, soothing caress.

  She let out a contented sigh, and her eyes drifted shut.

  "That's what happens. I grow on people."

  "Like a fungus," Mac retorted as she reentered the apartment, my mother following in her wake. Agnes appeared apprehensive, almost nervous.

  "I'm so sorry I sprayed you," she blurted.

  "Considering it was either that, I get stuck with whatever the heck was in that needle, or get shot at point-blank range, I'll take the pepper spray."

  "You saved our lives, Grams." Mac put an arm around her shoulder. "You were kind of incredible."

  "Well, Detective Black is the one who kicked the door in," Agnes said.

  "I'm not buying the false modesty for one second," I told her. "You might as well buff your nails on your shirt and claim it was nothing."

  "Honestly, Mackenzie. Can't you just say thank you?"

  I took a slow and steady breath. "Thank you, Mom. For everything."

  She blinked then blushed. "Well, you're welcome. I have to look after my girls. Have you eaten? I have this fantastic soup recipe. It has kale in it."

  I made gagging sounds.

  "Just try it. You never know if you might like it."

  Mac and I bit our lips in tandem and then glanced at one another, both filling in a mental that's what he said.

  I broke first, a crack of laughter escaping. Snickers grunted but stayed put. Mac doubled over, wheezing with giddy delight.

  Agnes looked back and forth between the two of us. "What am I missing?"

  "Nothing, Grandma." Mac recovered enough to say. "It's an inside joke."

  "Tasteless lowbrow humor," I added. "The best kind."

  "I don't know," Agnes mumbled. "Maybe I should take my own advice and try it."

  Mac and I exchanged another look, this time of the is-she-serious variety.

  "We could break her in slowly," I said. "A little Caddyshack, maybe some Blazing Saddles."

  "Dumb and Dumber, oh, and The Duff." Mac looked thrilled with the idea of indoctrinating new blood into our cult-classic film family.

  "Soup first," Agnes said with authority. "Mac, you want to help? It'll do you good to learn to cook."

  "But not because you need it to lure some man to love you," I countered.

  My mother actually rolled her eyes. "No, because good nutrition is important and because your mother is a lost cause."

  "Thank you," I said and watched the two of them head out the door.

  Five minutes later, my next visitor knocked.

  "Come in, Brett." I called.

  The door opened. "How'd you know it was me?"

  "I saw you lurking in the shrubbery." I gestured toward the adjacent chair. "Have a seat."

  He lowered himself into the chair across from me and studied my face.

  "Go ahead." I said. "Though I have to warn you, if you're contemplating hitting me, I have an attack puggle here, and I'm not afraid to use it."

  As if on cue, Snickers let out a warning growl.

  "I'd never hit you." Brett looked utterly appalled.

  "Well, you lured me to that meeting with a homicidal doctor."

  He scowled at that. "I didn't know he was homicidal when I made the call. He just said he had information that would wrap up both of our cases. It wasn't until Dr. Granger walked in that he drew on us."

  I shivered, recalling just how close the call had been. "Well, I guess I'm officially out of the PI business."

  "Why? You're good at it."

  I blinked. "You think I'm a good PI?"

  "Well, yeah. You solved my case."

  "But I made so many mistakes."

  "That doesn't mean you're not a good PI. It just means you need to practice and build your skill sets. If you don't want to work for the lawyer anymore, you can come work with me."

  My mouth fell open. "Aren't you angry? That I didn't tell you I was pregnant?"

  "Getting right into the heavy stuff are we?" He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well, I'm not thrilled that you didn't tell me. Obviously. And I gotta say it blows my mind. I have a kid—not a kid, a teenager. But no, I'm not mad."

  "You don't feel cheated? That I kept her from you?" I probed.

  He shook his head. "It's still sinking in. But I guess what I most wanted to say is that I get it, why you didn't tell me."

  I jolted as if hit with electric current. "You do?"

&n
bsp; "Well, yeah. I mean I wish you had, but it took me a long time to grow up. Hell, some days I think I'm not there yet."

  "You're not alone in that." I let out a sigh. "It wasn't just because I thought you were immature. My life had to change, but yours didn't. And I didn't want you to be tied down, obligated to us. I always wanted the best for you, and I knew if I told you that would have impacted every decision you made going forward. Eventually you would have resented both of us, and that wasn't fair to any of us."

  He nodded. "So, she knows about me?"

  "Only just. After I ran into you again, I knew I had to come clean with both of you."

  "What's she like?" He sat forward, eyes alight with eagerness.

  "Brilliant. She's quite the little whiz with computers. In fact, she just got an internship with the police." I went on for some time, describing various bits of Mac's personality while her father listened raptly.

  "Does she…" Brett cleared his throat. "That is, do you think she will want to get to know me?"

  "I think she wants that more than anything."

  Brett smiled, that natural-born charmer grin that lit up the room. "Really?"

  "Would I lie? She's upstairs with the battle-ax. Maybe you two could talk a little bit."

  He rose to go, but hesitated. "Seriously Mackenzie. I think you're going to be one of the best PIs in the business someday. Stick with it."

  I glanced away, embarrassed.

  Another knock sounded on the door, just three hard raps.

  "Did you see anyone lurking in the bushes that time?" Brett asked.

  "No, but that's Hunter. Let him in."

  Sure enough, Detective Black stood on the other side, and he wasn't alone. Len was with him, the older man holding a large bouquet of autumn flowers.

  "I didn't realize you were entertaining," Len said.

  "I'm always entertaining." I waved them in. "Brett was just on his way up to see Mac, so I guess I'm ready for a new babysitter."

  Len shuffled forward as the two younger men studied each other warily. If they'd been dogs there would have been a lot of circling and butt sniffing as each took the other's measure.

  "Mackenzie," Brett called from the door. "I'll see you around."

  I rolled my eyes. He had to get in one last shot. "Later, Brett."

  As the lawyer approached I saw the bouquet was in fact two different arrangements. He handed me one, and I looked up at him, surprised. "What are these for?"

  "To celebrate your first successful case. Detective Black assures me that all the charges against Dr. Granger have been dropped."

  I craned my neck up to meet Hunter's gaze. "Is that so?"

  He nodded mutely. His gaze was once again dark and inscrutable.

  "Have a seat." I waved to the chair and the empty couch cushion beside me.

  "I'm not staying. I just wanted to drop off the flowers and this." Len reached into his pocket and extracted a check, which he handed to me.

  "But I haven't compiled my hours yet," I protested.

  "I know. You can do that when you're feeling better."

  My hand shook as I took it from him. It wasn't a ton of money, but it would help. But it was more than the money. I'd solved my first case as a private investigator. With a ton of help and a heaping helping of luck, but still…

  "So get some rest." Len twinkled at me. "I'll see you in the office as soon as you're fit to be back on the job."

  "Who are those for?" I gestured toward the other bouquet, wondering if the arrangement was a thank you to my mother.

  "Nona. Poor dear felt left out so I thought I'd bring these by to cheer her up. Have a good night." Len tipped an imaginary hat and then headed out the door.

  I shifted and leaned back against the couch. "Please sit down. My head is throbbing, and tipping it back to look up at you isn't doing me any good."

  "You assume I'm staying?" Hunter said quietly.

  I flinched. "You probably have a ton of case things to tidy up."

  "I do," he said, not moving.

  "On a scale of one to ten, with one being not at all and ten being ballistic, just how mad are you?"

  Hunter thought about it. "One hundred and ten."

  "Yowch. I really screwed up, didn't I?"

  He heaved out a breath and then sat on the couch next to me. "Why did you leave like that?"

  I almost played the injury card, but decided against it. "I broke a bunch of promises last night to my daughter and to myself. Mac was mad and even worse, hurt. I'm not saying I regret what happened, but I'm not in a place where I can go forward either."

  Hunter nodded. "So where does that leave us?"

  "As neighbors. And friends, I hope." I reached for his hand and laced my fingers through his.

  "And Brett?" Was that a slight trace of bitterness in his voice?

  "Brett is Mac's dad, and I guess he'll be around."

  He searched my face. "Nothing else?"

  "No. Same rules apply. I have my daughter, and she's my number one priority."

  As if summoned, Mac appeared, a sunny smile on her face. It dimmed a little when she saw Hunter seated beside me on the couch. "Oh, uh, hi."

  "Did you talk to him?" I asked, releasing Hunter's hand.

  "I should go." He stood up.

  "Oh, no. That is, you don't have to. I was just coming to ask Mom if it was okay if we ordered pizza. That soup smells vile."

  "Try it, meh meh meh," I mimicked Agnes.

  "You need to be nicer to your mother," Hunter said, surprising us both. "She's one of the bravest women I've ever seen. She spotted what was going on through the office window, and I tried to get her to stay outside, but she knocked on the door and had the pepper spray ready before I could do anything about it."

  I remembered the story he'd told me about his mother and how she died and felt ashamed. "You're right."

  "Let me know if you need anything." His gaze devoured me for an endless moment, and then he was gone.

  "Is it hot in here?" I asked Mac.

  She plopped down on the other side of the couch. "No, it's just you two."

  "I meant what I said, you know. I called a halt to things with him. So there won't be awkwardness."

  "Good," Mac said distractedly. "That's good"

  "Where's your dad?"

  "He had to go. Do we really need to eat the soup?"

  I plucked the check from my pajama pocket and handed it to her. "Order a pizza and we'll dip it in the soup."

  Mac laughed and took out her phone. "Done. Oh and Mom?"

  "What?"

  "I'm proud of you."

  Tears stung my eyes. "Ditto, kid. Now, what do you say to a John Hughes movie marathon until I can see straight?"

  "I have school tomorrow," Mac pointed out.

  "I'll write you a note." I hit the Walken accent express again.

  "Mom."

  "You've got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell."

  Mac shook her head. "It's a good thing I love you."

  I closed my eyes and sighed, content. "It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it."

  * * * * *

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jennifer L. Hart knows that surviving as military spouse takes persistence, comfort food, and a stellar sense of humor. Her books often focus on people who've lived the military lifestyle and zany antics of neurotic heroines who like to eat, drink, and have fun. Her works include the Misadventures of the Laundry Hag mystery series, the Damaged Goods mystery series, the Southern Pasta Shop Mysteries and the Mackenzie & Mackenzie PI Mysteries. Follow her online using #mysterieswithhart on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

  To learn more about Jennifer, visit her online at: http://www.jenniferlhart.com/

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  BOOKS BY JENNIFER L. HART

  Mackenzie & Mackenzie Mysteries:

  Sleuthing for a Living

  Southern Pasta Shop Mysteries:

  Murder Al Dente

  Christmas Al Dente (holiday short story)

  Murder À La Flambé

  Murder Al Fresco

  Misadventures of the Laundry Hag Mysteries:

  Skeletons in the Closet

  Swept Under the Rug

  All Washed Up

  Hung Out to Dry

  The Laundry Hag's Christmas Rental

  Damaged Goods Mysteries

  Final Notice

  Lease on the Beach

  Cure of Die

  Other Works

  Who Needs a Hero?

  River Rats

  Stellar Timing

  Daisy Dominatrix

  Redeeming Characters

  * * * * *

  SNEAK PEEK

  of the first Southern Pasta Shop Mystery

  MURDER AL DENTE

  by

  JENNIFER L. HART

  PROLOGUE

  "Five minutes, Ms. Buckland." Mimi, Chef Zoltan Farnsworth's assistant, poked her head into the closet I'd been given to use as a dressing room.

  I grinned at her. "Thanks. He has you herding the entire studio, now, huh? Why do you put up with him, Mimi?" She was a talented pastry chef in her own right, but Zoltan Farnsworth treated her like dirt. Not that that was unusual for him. Farnsworth treated everyone like dirt. It was practically his brand.

  "He is not so bad." She paused, seemed to consider, and said in her careful Asian accent, "Well, he is bad."

  "Hey, when I'm Flavor TV's next big thing, I'll hire you right out from under his mustache." I took a deep breath, checked my appearance one last time in the chipped mirror, and pasted on a smile. "First I have to go out there and blow their doors off."

  "You will do very well, I am sure." Mimi offered me a smile, dipped her head, and bustled off.