Read Steamed (A Maid in LA Mystery) for Free Online Page B

He waited and I ate undisturbed. 
      I’d moved from my salad to a plate of pasta that Big G brought back.  It was just as good.  I was trying to decide what all was in the simple red sauce when Cal’s phone rang.
      He picked it up, listened and said, “Okay.”  Then he clicked the button and set his phone down.
      He turned to me.  “It’s official.  You cleaned the murder weapon.”
      All I could think of was a wrinkled unicorn tattoo.
     

Chapter Three
     
     The next morning, Tiny came over early with donuts.  She tried to comfort me over an apple fritter and coffee.  “Honey, this is Hollywood.  Everyone wants to kill everyone else here.  He’ll find other suspects.”
      “But I cleaned the murder weapon and didn’t clean it well enough to get rid of all the traces of blood.”  I knew I should be a bit gagged by the thought of handling a bloody murder weapon, but what got my goat was that I had failed to clean it well enough to remove all the residue.  And by residue, I mean blood. I know I should be happy there was some left, so the cops knew it was the murder weapon.  That might aid Cal’s investigation.  But I felt as if I’d somehow been a slacker. 
      I sighed. “Well, the good news is, Cal doesn’t seem to really think I did it.  I don’t think I’m going to have to investigate on my own in order to clear my name.”
      “I’m glad,” Tiny said. 
      I glanced at her.  There was something about her voice that sounded off.  And she looked...well, very un-Tiny-like.  “What’s wrong?”
      “I may need an investigator of my own.”  Tiny sniffed.  And it wasn’t the kind of sniffle she had when she thought about marrying Sal.  I’d heard those often in the last months when she chose a dress, or the cake.  Heck, she’d had one of those watery sniffles when she made an appointment to get our hair done on her wedding day.  I wasn’t sure scheduling a hair appointment was sniffle-worthy, but Tiny sniffled over every aspect of the wedding.
      This wasn’t that kind of sniffle. 
      “Why would you need an investigator?” I asked slowly.
      “Well, there’s a chance I’m going to end up on the list of suspects.”  She sniffed again.
      “Tiny, Mr. Banning was a client, and if that’s their only requirement, then everyone here at Mac’Cleaners will be a suspect.  Heck, the fact that Theresa was supposed to clean the house and called in sick would make her a very viable suspect.”  I thought about my file.  I’d have to add Theresa’s name, but I really couldn’t see our five foot two, size zero employee whacking Mr. Banning over the head with enough force to kill him.
      “You said you didn’t see any signs of forced entry?” Tiny asked.
      I’d thought about this particular question when Cal had asked, after he’d explained I’d cleaned the murder weapon.  I’d used the key to open the door when I first arrived and hadn’t seen any marks on it.  None of the other doors or windows were broken or looked as if they’d been pried open.
      I was disappointed that I hadn’t thought of it myself, while both Cal, the professional cop, and Tiny, the professional maid, had.
      Maybe I wasn’t quite as good at this investigating stuff as I thought.  It was probably a good thing that Cal didn’t suspect me of murder, and I wasn’t going to have to clear myself so I didn’t get accused of a crime I didn’t commit—just inadvertently cleaned up.  “No.  I didn’t see any signs of forced entry.”
      “Well, the business has a key and I had access to it.  I could have gotten into his house without breaking in.”
      “Yes, but you don’t have a motive anymore than I do.  Why would you want to kill a client?  A paying client?” 
      I could have understood doing in a deadbeat client like Mr. X—yes, that’s how he insisted we refer to him in our files.  He’s a big industry muckety-muck who was three months behind