Not One Clue_ A Mystery Part 23

I let the silence swell around us for a moment.

"Is that what you want for Jamel?" I asked.

"f.u.c.kin' A," he said, but his tone was chagrined, as if embarra.s.sed by his emotion.

"Then give it to him," I said.

"And how the h.e.l.l am I going to do that? I work fulltime. My apartment's the size of your ..." He waved wildly. "... shoe. And ..." He laughed. "... I just shot someone."

"Not to mention the fact that you're kind of whiny."

"Jesus, woman!" he said, turning toward me, aghast. "Do you drive everyone this crazy?"

I thought about avoiding that question, but the answer seemed so obvious. "I believe I do."

He stared at me for several seconds before his mouth quirked up a little. "Want a ready-made family?" he asked.

"I'll think about it," I said, and he laughed.

18.

The good thing about dating an ex is that they already know you're a moron.-Donald Archer (Mac)-a man who has never been particularly adept in social situations Later that afternoon, I sat alone in my diminutive kitchen. Laney and the Geekster had gone to extinguish yet another wedding fire. Elaine had, in fact, pa.s.sed up the opportunity to attend the afterparty for Jungle Heat Jungle Heat to do so. It wasn't exactly the norm for a television spin-off to have such an event, but this party was expected to be quite a blowout, mixing financiers, minor celebrities, and shining stars into one intoxicating brew. Laney, however, had opted to see to her wedding instead. Sometimes I don't know where I went wrong. to do so. It wasn't exactly the norm for a television spin-off to have such an event, but this party was expected to be quite a blowout, mixing financiers, minor celebrities, and shining stars into one intoxicating brew. Laney, however, had opted to see to her wedding instead. Sometimes I don't know where I went wrong.

As for me, I had expected to put in a full day at the office, but my last two clients canceled, which meant I had time to go for a run ... or to eat a supper rich in saturated fat and fall into a lipid-induced coma. After some nasty internal warfare, I lost my mind and chose running, but as I slipped out of my business clothes, I noticed my bridesmaid dress. It was a thing of rare beauty. Made of a coppery fabric that caressed every curve, it was the equal to anything seen on the red carpet. In fact, it would look great at the Jungle Heat Jungle Heat party, the party where Laney's peers would be gathered, where people like Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler might well stroll past in tuxedos while sipping intoxicating beverages. There was a rumor circulating around town that Colin had gotten smashed at the last shindig and danced the jitterbug wearing nothing but a c.u.mmerbund. party, the party where Laney's peers would be gathered, where people like Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler might well stroll past in tuxedos while sipping intoxicating beverages. There was a rumor circulating around town that Colin had gotten smashed at the last shindig and danced the jitterbug wearing nothing but a c.u.mmerbund.

My imagination reared like a wild stallion, but I reined it down because, obviously, Colin wasn't the reason I was interested in Heat's Heat's party at all. It was because Laney had been receiving threatening mail and it was conceivable that the author of that mail would be commingling with the likes of Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler, who would stroll past in tuxedos while sipping ... party at all. It was because Laney had been receiving threatening mail and it was conceivable that the author of that mail would be commingling with the likes of Colin Farrell and Gerard Butler, who would stroll past in tuxedos while sipping ...

I closed my eyes and tossed my skirt on the bed. Insanity. That's what it was. I was not going to crash some party just because there was a mermaid dress hanging on the back of my closet door. I was more mature than that. Besides, I didn't have any pa.s.ses ... and after a fairly exhaustive search, I realized Laney must have taken hers with her. Which was just as well. I was going to go for a run, get to bed early, and never tell Elaine I had entertained any idiotic thoughts to the contrary.

I was set on that course for all of thirty-four seconds, but the temptation of seeing Colin in nothing but a c.u.mmerbund and a burr was more than I could resist.

"Mac?" I was gripping the receiver in both hands.

"Christina?" said the voice on the other end of the line.

I closed my eyes for a minute and wondered if I was out of my mind. "Yeah. How are you doing?" I asked. I had met Donald Archer while investigating a murder. He was his father's heir apparent and would someday inherit a boot manufacturing company called Ironwear. Originally I had thought he might also be a murderer. Now I believed him to be a genuinely nice person. Does it seem odd that a licensed psychologist can't tell the difference?

"What's up?" he asked.

I cleared my throat and reminded myself that although Mac was extremely wealthy and undeniably sweet, he had always been more interested in me than I was in him; I had no right to play with his emotions, but I needed a favor and told him as much.

He paused for a minute. "Is this the kind of favor that's likely to get a guy killed?"

As it turned out, he was also a pragmatist. I considered his query for a second. "I don't think so."

"Wow," he said. "That's not quite the answer I was hoping for."

"Looking for more of a thrill?" I asked and he chuckled, inexplicably charmed. Poor guy.

"What's the favor?"

"There's an ... event that I'm hoping to attend. A Hollywood event. I know you sometimes get invitations and was wondering if I could maybe be your escort."

He paused a moment. "That might actually be worth getting killed for."

A little more guilt seeped in. I fought it off. I'm frickin' amazing at fighting it off.

"What's the event?"

"The afterparty for Jungle Heat." Jungle Heat."

"Jungle ... Hey, I think I ... Hey, I think I do do have an invitation for that." have an invitation for that."

"Yeah?" I couldn't decide if I should be thrilled or terrified.

"When is that again?" he asked. Mac was, it seems, the kind of una.s.suming bazillionaire who gets so many invitations to stare at Colin that he can afford to forget about them.

I bit my lip. "Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Man, I wish I were a girl," he said.

"Ummm ..."

"I have to start looking for a date a full month before the actual event."

"Does that mean you'll do it?"

"Is it in Cincinnati?"

"What's that?"

"'Cuz that's where I am."

"Cincinnati, Ohio?"

He considered that a second. "I don't think they'd make another one."

"Oh."

"But maybe if I head straight to the airport, I could hop on a plane and get into LAX before-"

"That's okay, Mac," I said. The guilt was becoming a little more invasive. "It was just a whim."

"It wouldn't be any trouble," he said.

"If you like to be strip-searched for trying to rush through airport security."

"I have have been pretty lonely," he said, and I laughed. been pretty lonely," he said, and I laughed.

"I'm not sure a strip search is the way to start a lasting relationship."

"Probably not with a belly like mine."

I remembered now why I liked him. It wasn't for his body. "We can talk when you get back," I said.

"I could make this work if it's important to you," he said. "I don't think Dad would disown me or anything if I left the convention early."

"What's the convention on?"

"Shoelaces."

"Strip-searching is sounding better."

"I could tell him I just found out I'd knocked someone up and had to go home to take care of things."

"And that wouldn't make him upset?"

"I think he might actually be proud. Hard to say, though. He's been kind of surly lately. I think marriage number five is on the skids."

"I'm sorry."

"She's twenty-four."

"I'm even more sorry. Listen, Mac, don't worry about this. I'll call you later."

"Really?" He sounded desperate. I opened my mouth to spout ... something. "That sounded desperate, didn't it?" he asked.

"No."

"Yes it did. Sorry. I meant to say, of course you'll call me. I'm very rich."

I laughed. "And nice," I said. We hung up a few moments later. I dialed the phone again barely three seconds after that.

"Eddie?"

"Chrissy McMullen, Ph.D.," Eddie said. I could hear him settling into his easy chair, oozing muscle and charm. Eddie and I had dated briefly. The fact that he was as interested in men as I was had eventually put something of a damper on our relationship.

"I need a favor," I said.

There was a pause. "Is this the kind of favor that will get me killed?" he asked, and I scowled into the phone.

"Why do people keep asking that?" I said, and he laughed.

"What do you need?"

"A date. For tonight."

In the end it was a no-go.

After that there was a long procession of additional calls. I may have, in the past, mentioned my impressive number of old flames. I'm closing in on four score. I think I called most of them ... excluding the convicts and the guy who had died after trying to jump the train tracks on his motor scooter.

By five-thirty I was feeling a little desperate. Because, although crashing a Hollywood afterparty might seem like a stupid idea to the uninitiated, I had made up my mind. And once that happens it's hard to unmake it ... at least if it involves Colin Farrell and c.u.mmerbunds.

"Officer Tavis?" I said.

"You must be calling to tell me you can no longer resist my charms," he said.

"I'm calling to see if you have an invitation to the Jungle Jungle Heat Heat party." In my zealot's quest for tickets I had almost forgotten his propensity for s.e.xual hara.s.sment. party." In my zealot's quest for tickets I had almost forgotten his propensity for s.e.xual hara.s.sment.

He paused a moment. "Sure," he said, "and after that I'm going to have tea with Angelina and Brad."

"So you're in L.A., then?"

He chuckled. "I was just there. Why would I go back?"

"I thought you might be stalking me."

"Well ... I'm a little busy right now. But maybe this weekend."

I stifled a sigh. "So that's a no?"

"Yes," he said. "But I could maybe buy a couple theater tickets if you promise to show me your b.o.o.bs."

For a moment I considered a couple snappy comebacks, but in the end I just hung up.

After that I sat staring at my address book and biting my lip until insanity got a good firm hold on my psyche. I dialed a moment later.

"Yeah." Vincent Angler had once been a defensive lineman for the L.A. Lions. Big and black and as aggressive as sin; even his voice was scary. But maybe it was all a cover-up. Maybe he just acted acted scary to hide his s.e.xual orientation. When I'd last seen him, years ago, it hadn't been widely known that he was gay, but I had a sixth sense about such things. The fact that he had eventually begun to pursue an acting career had added credence to my theory. Not that every actor was gay. There were several whose s.e.xuality I absolutely refused to call into question. Once again Colin Farrell sprang nimbly to mind. But he was quickly displaced by the thought of Angler, who had kindly confirmed my suspicions by coming out of the closet some months ago. scary to hide his s.e.xual orientation. When I'd last seen him, years ago, it hadn't been widely known that he was gay, but I had a sixth sense about such things. The fact that he had eventually begun to pursue an acting career had added credence to my theory. Not that every actor was gay. There were several whose s.e.xuality I absolutely refused to call into question. Once again Colin Farrell sprang nimbly to mind. But he was quickly displaced by the thought of Angler, who had kindly confirmed my suspicions by coming out of the closet some months ago.

"Mr. Angler?" My voice sounded as if my sphincter were being squeezed in a winepress. "Who is this?"

"Christina McMullen." I had met him, too, while investigating a murder. Apparently felonies are an excellent way to expand one's circle of acquaintances.

"Who?"

Generally speaking, it is not a good sign when your prospective date doesn't recognize your name. Even worse when he sounds irritated by your presence on the planet.

"We met a few years ago. I was Andrew Bomstad's psychologist."