She paused a moment, then nodded. “I will. Thanks.”
“Thank you.”
I left the gallery and realized I was no closer to figuring out who did it.
I headed home, hoping to get a few minutes at the white-board before the boys got home.
I got there and literally had minutes. I’d just added more notes to the board when the thundering herd burst into the house.
I heard them even though I was back in Hunter’s room.
“Mom,” they bellowed.
Now, I realize words like herd and bellowed should probably be used for groups of more than two. But seriously, just two of them managed both admirably.
“Coming,” I called and shut Hunter’s door behind me.
Adding the new information had left me no closer to an epiphany.
“Mom, I have a favor. A big favor,” Miles started.
He had that pleading for a new bike sort of look. I knew this look well. When he was thirteen he wanted some BMX bike that was crazy expensive and spent weeks pleading for it. Jerome and I talked and since he had a perfectly adequate bike already, decided to join forces and insist that he needed to earn half of the cost if he wanted the new one.
I could have afforded it. Jerome definitely could have afforded it. But we both have always felt the boys needed to learn to work for what they want.
Like I’ve said, Jerome’s a fantastic father…even if he wasn’t a very good husband.
“You can always ask me.” Important parenting rule #102…never agree to anything until you know exactly what you’re agreeing to.
“Can me and Eli go spend the next week at Dad’s? I know we’re going to Hunter’s this weekend, then we’d be gone next week. But we’ll come home before Tiny’s wedding.”
Now, this was unusual. The boys spent weekends and vacations with their dad. They spent at least part of the holidays with him. Jerome and I have a very fluid custody agreement. I’m the primary custodian, but he’s active and has the boys as often as he can and they want.
This was the first time they’d asked to spend a school week there and Miles was much too excited to have this week be about simply father and son bonding.
“What’s going on at your dad’s?” I asked.
“Well…” Miles drew the word out long enough that I knew I was right.
Eli filled in, “You know that director, ee arnst?”
I did. ee arnst (whose name, like ee cumming’s was always in lower case letters) was actually Ed Arnst. He’d directed Knight and Daisy and I was an extra. We’d gone out a couple times before I met Jerome. He was talented and nice. I was young and new to Hollywood. I still fantasized about being discovered and wearing the star-shaped glasses that Lottie gave me down the red carpet to accept my award…any award would do.
“I do know who he is,” I told Eli without going into any detail.
“He’s coming to stay at Dad’s. Peri mentioned it and Miles crapped himself.”
“Hey,” I said. That wasn’t a mental image I needed. Having changed Miles’ diapers when he was young, I can assure you it wasn’t a mental image anyone needed.
“Sorry,” Eli said. “Miles is convinced if we’re at Dad’s, he can corner Mr. arnst for directing tips and maybe even wheedle his way into an internship.”
“Mom, can you imagine what that could mean on my college applications? Please? I know Dad sucks at getting us anywhere on time, but Peri said she’d take us to school.”
“Have you ever known Peri to be on time…I mean ever?”
Eli raised his hand. “I’ll see to it, Mom. I swear. I’ll set all the clocks ahead a half-hour and it’ll be fine. That’s what I did when we were there the summer before last.”
“Please, Mom?” Miles pleaded. “And the bonus is, you can work on your script in peace and quiet, and you and Cal can do whatever you and Cal do when we’re not here.”
“Hey,” Eli screamed. “I’m sure they don’t do anything. I’m sure that mom only ever…did anything three times. Once when Hunter was conceived, once when you were, once for me.” He gave me and his brother a stern look. “And I never want to hear anything to the contrary ever again. Otherwise you’re going to damage my fragile teen psyche.”
“Want a worse mental image than that,” Miles teased his brother. “Dad and…well, pick a wife.”
“Nah, nah, nah,” Eli said loudly, his fingers plugging his ears. “I can’t hear you.”
I waved my hand, really not enjoying the conversation. I tried to be open. You’d think their father would have told the boys about the birds and the bees, but nope, that was me. I told Hunter, and couldn’t face the thought of giving out the info two more times, so I did a combo birds and bees talk to Miles and Eli. And I occasionally pasted pictures in their bathroom to serve as reminders. Pictures of STD’s, of crying babies…
They hated those pictures, but I thought they were effective.
“Yes,” I said.
“I don’t want one call from school about you being late or not getting your homework done. But yes. You know I’ve never said no to you having time with your dad.”
Miles flew at me and hugged me. “Thanks, Mom. I mean, it thanks. When I win my first award, I’ll be thanking you first and foremost.”
“After that, he’s thanking his much better looking brother.”
“Sure, I’ll thank Hunter.”
“Hey,” Eli complained.
They walked away, bickering about who was the best looking brother, and then turning the discussion to how they’d reset all the clocks for Peri. And then the weekend at Hunter’s.
I went into the kitchen to the small table that served as my desk. I turned on the computer and stared at my script.
My boys would be gone Friday through next week. I’d have plenty of time to write and work on the missing art mystery. My life was definitely easier without having to cart them all over town. It was quieter, too.
I should feel relieved.
But I wasn’t.
The truth was, I feel like I’ve led a full life. And while I might not have ever walked down a red carpet award ceremony wearing those star-shaped sunglasses, I feel like my life’s been full of accomplishments. But of everything I’ve ever done, or will do, Hunter, Miles, and Eli were my greatest accomplishments. Being their mother has been the greatest joy of my life.
They would gag if I tried to say those words to them, but it was the truth.
I worked a few hours, took a dinner break with the boys and was just oozing into bed when Cal called.
I smiled when I saw his number on the caller ID and answered, “Hello, stranger.”
“Damn, I miss you,” he said. “But I think we’ve got a break on this case.”
“Good. We have that dinner on Friday with Tiny Sal, Cassandra and Julian.”
“When I was thinking about ending this case and spending time with you, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” His sexy, husky voice was full of innuendo.
“Well, after every good dinner, there’s dessert,” I said in what I hoped was an equally suggestive tone. “And the boys are going to Hunter’s for the weekend, and they just informed me that they’re spending the week with their dad and Peri.”
“Wait, so I’ll have you to myself for a whole week?”
“Well, you might have to share me with Dick and the script,” I teased.
I wandered into Hunter’s room as we traded stories of our days. I didn’t share my visit with Miriam, and he didn’t share details of his newest case. He seemed convinced I was going to try and solve all his murders for him.
I stared at the white-board as he talked.
I didn’t feel any burning need to solve his murder. I just wanted to figure out who stole all these paintings and replaced them with forgeries.
I wanted to clear my business and its employees of any wrongdoing.
I looked at the pictures of the artwork. It was all akin to that orange blob Miriam had showed me. Simple shapes. Bold an
d prominent.
There were no Pollock sort of abstracts with multiple splatters and patterns. Those would have been extremely difficult to replicate. No, whoever had stolen the art had gone for simplistic pieces.
Miriam would probably sales-pitch them as nuanced, or mention their hidden meanings.
But in my book an orange blob was an orange blob.
I looked at the two galleries where the art had been purchased. Arthur Wadsworth Gallery and Gaia’s Gallery.
I thought of Miriam mentioning hiring someone away from the competition. What if someone had changed jobs and worked with both galleries? They’d have had access to all the paintings.
Miriam mentioned the woman she’d stolen. That woman packed and framed art, but she also went to homes and hung it.
“Quincy, are you listening to me?” Cal asked, pulling me from my case back to the conversation.
“Sorry, Cal. I got a bit distracted.”
“Yeah, the kids can do that. I get it.”
I felt a stab of guilt knowing it wasn’t my kids but my white-board that had pulled me from the conversation.
“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll get together,” he promised.
“That sounds great.” Now, here’s where someone might say, I love you and the other person would answer, I love you, too.
We’d had our one of the things I love about you awkward slip and neither of us was ready to dip our toes in that murky love-water again, so I just said, “Good night.”
“Good night,” he said, too.
He hung up.
I called Robert Williams. He picked up first ring. “Quincy what do you need?”
I gave him the names of the galleries and asked him to check on Summer.
“I’ll have it to you before you wake up tomorrow,” he said, and I could hear that he was about to hang up.
“Hey, how did Theresa work out for you?” I asked.
“She found my kitchen disgusting,” he said, and for the first time, I thought I heard some genuine emotion in his voice. I’m pretty sure that the emotion was amusement.
“I might have heard something to that effect,” I said carefully.
That made him actually laugh. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to be less impressed by my bedroom.”
“And here’s a dating tip from me, not that I’m an expert. Never say that sentence to a woman again.”
I could almost hear him replay his last sentence in his head, then he laughed. Honestly guffawed.
“Thanks. I won’t. I’ll send you the info in the morning.”
“Thanks, Robert.”
“You can call me Rob,” he said and hung up.
I hung up as well.
Maybe I had a new lead.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, I hurried and checked my computer.
Robert—Rob—had sent me an email the header contained two words. Summer Nichols.
I read his information with interest. Miriam had stolen the framer, art packager away from the competition. The other gallery being Gaia’s Gallery.
I dropped the boys off at school, then stopped at Jerome and Peri’s to drop of their bags for next week. I obviously had woke up Peri. She came to the door in tiny, tiny shorts and a tank top. Her hair was disheveled and she had bags under her eyes.
And she still looked fantastic. “Quincy,” she said with a yawn that was punctuated by a genuine smile.
“Sorry. Miles said you were expecting me. I could have just left their bags in the garage or brought them by another day. Their friend’s parents said they’d drop the boys off here on Sunday after they get back from Hunter’s.”
She smiled. “Don’t be silly. I was expecting you. Jerome programs the coffeemaker, so the coffee should be hot if you have time for a cup?”
“Just a quick one. I have some paperwork I have to get done at the office, and then I have a call I have to make.”
“Come on in.”
She led me through the house. Jerome still owned the same house he’d owned since I’d met him. Each new wife seemed to put her own stamp on it. Peri’s stamp was actually beautiful in its simplicity. Warm earth tones, simple Shaker inspired furniture.
The kitchen was huge and faced a well-sculpted backyard and garden.
I took a seat at the small table by the window, and Peri joined me with two cups of coffee.
“I really have to drink it fast,” I said.
“Well, don’t burn yourself,” she teased.
“Hey, thanks for inviting the boys over while Ed’s here. Miles is beyond excited.”
“He’s hoping Ed will let him intern this coming summer,” Peri said. “I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes. Of all Jerome’s friends, I think Ed’s my favorite. He doesn’t pretend to be all that and then some. He’s simply hardworking and nice. I know a lot of hardworking Hollywood people, but not nearly as many nice ones.”
“Speaking of nice people, you qualify,” I said as I sipped the coffee.
“I like the boys. They’ve always been kind to me. It can’t be easy seeing your dad married to someone who’s not all that much older than you are.”
I didn’t say they’d had a lot of practice. It might hurt Peri’s feelings, and I wouldn’t do that for the world—even if it were true.
“So, tell me about Tiny’s wedding,” she said. “I want all the juicy details.”
Between my sips of coffee, I filled her in.
“Well, I can’t wait. It was so nice of you to let her invite us.”
“Have you met Tiny? There was no letting Tiny. She wanted you there, and so you’ll be there. She has very specific ideas on her wedding. She keeps saying it’s not the biggest, or the grandest, but it’s just perfect for her and Sal.”
“They’re one of the couples who will make it, you can just tell. Not everyone is that lucky.” There was a quiet sadness in Peri that I’d never seen before.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She smiled. “Still waking up. You know me, always late, and I take hours to fully wake up. You should have seen the boys trying to nudge me out of bed early to go surfing last month.” She laughed, but it didn’t ring true.
“Peri, you know you can talk to me about anything. And if you need something, all you have to do is ask.”
She nodded. “I do.”
I am not a traditional mushy person. Even though I’m a non-Maccish Mac, there are certain family traits that I absorbed through osmosis. But I made sure with my boys to let my mush out of its Mac-induced constraints. And I was pretty sure that’s what Peri needed today, so I added, “You’re family, Peri. It has nothing to do with the fact you’re married to Jerome. It has everything to do with the fact that we love you.”
She burst into tears, which had not been my intent at all.
She hugged me, holding on for dear life. “Peri, honey, what is it?”
“Nothing. I just get a little teary when I’m tired.”
I knew there was more than that going on. And I remembered the boys telling me they thought their father was becoming a bit distant with Peri. They knew what that meant…so did I.
I wasn’t sure if that was it, but I did know she wasn’t ready to talk about whatever it was.
“When you’re ready, I’m here to listen. But in the meantime, I’ve always got a hug.”
She sat up, wiped her eyes and said, “I wish you were my mother. I know that sounds horrible, since you were married to the man I’m married to, but even though we don’t talk about it a lot, we both realize that I’m only a couple years older than Hunter.”
“We don’t talk about it because it makes me feel old to think about it.” I laughed.
Peri didn’t quite laugh, but she did offer me a watery smile. “You are my family. And no matter what happens, I’m keeping you.” There was a non-Peri fierceness to her declaration.
“Ditto,” I told her.
“And you need to go now. I’ve probably made you late for work, and when
you show up you’ll have a wet shoulder.”
I wasn’t going to mention the dampness on my shoulder. But since she had, I said, “Hey, I had three boys, tears are not the worst thing that’s ever adorned my shoulder, I can promise you that.”
I left and felt sad. I was pretty sure the boys were right and Jerome would soon be separating from Peri. I knew the script as well as if I wrote it.
He’d show up with a bottle of wine and say, We have to talk.
Then he’d say things weren’t working…for either of them. He’d tell her it was time to call it quits. He’d offer to help Peri find a new apartment, one that he’d pay for. There was a pre-nup, but the settlement was generous. Peri would never be financially strapped.
But financial stability didn’t make up for a broken heart.
Of all the women my ex had married, Peri was the gentlest heart. I ached on her behalf, even as I prayed I was wrong.
But I didn’t think I was.
“I can’t go,” Tiny moaned, moments after I walked into her office. “I can’t go to dinner tomorrow. My wedding’s in a week and I’m sure there’s something I forgot. I just can’t think of what it is. Maybe I forgot something important. I need to double check—”
“Breathe,” I ordered. “If I had a brown paper bag, I’d make you breathe into it. That’s what they do to people who are having a panic attack on television. But since I don’t, I’m going to say, even if you forgot something, it will be fine. Do you know why?”
“Why?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Because you’ll be surrounded by friends, family…and Sal will be there. I don’t even think an alien abduction could keep him away from your wedding.”
“I dreamed I was walking down the aisle…naked.” She whispered the statement, as if someone might overhear and be scandalized.
“Sweetie, it could have been worse. You could have dreamed I was walking down the aisle naked. I’m the maid-of-honor and walk in before you do. Just imagine your view.”
That’s all it took. Tiny broke down in laughter.
“Now, say, Quincy, of course I’m going to dinner with you tomorrow night,” I instructed her.
Dusted (A Maid in LA Mystery) Page 11
