Pearls of Asia: A Love Story (33 page)

“I warned you, Mac. You know those guys don’t take to kindly to homosexuals, especially when they think they’re working next to one.”

“But I’m not gay!”

“Mac, I don’t know and I don’t care. What I do know is that you’ve lost my trust, and right now your reputation is lower than whale shit. I told you I had to report your behavior to Stone if we arrested Sheyla, and you left me no choice. I’m sorry, Mac. I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is something you can do,” pleaded Mac. “Help me find the real killer. We both know deep in our guts that Sheyla Samonte did not commit this crime. It has to be someone else. Please Mayes, will you help me?”

“Sorry, Mac. No can do. I’m already in enough hot water with Stone over not reporting you earlier. If he ever caught wind that I was helping you, he’d fire me on the spot. I’ve got my wife and kids to think about. I’m sorry, Mac, but you’re on your own. You screwed up.”

Of course he did, thought Mac. As far as he was concerned, he had failed as a detective. Again.

MAC CLIMBED THE STAIRS
in search of his mother. He expected to find her in her office, tabulating her profits from Wall Street’s financial bloodletting. Instead the room was silent, the computer turned off, and the chart books stacked under a Lehman Brothers coffee mug. Then he remembered where she’d often go on a sunny September day.

He ran upstairs and flung open the screen door to the roof deck. Sitting cross-legged in a skimpy bikini on a pink lounge chair was Victoria Parker. She had a glass of chardonnay in one hand and a Jackie Collin’s novel in the other, sunbathing a body that lied about her age.

“I saw the press conference on TV. Congratulations, Mackey. I see you arrested Paul Osher’s mistress. It’s time to celebrate!”

Mac leaned against a thick wooden railing surrounding the roof deck. He peered over the edge and noticed The Sub parked in the driveway, six stories below. He wondered if it would cushion his fall.

“We need to put the celebration on hold, Mom. I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Since it’s such a beautiful day, why don’t you work your way up.”

“I got suspended from my job today.”

“Holy cow! Are you kidding me?” she said, the shock of the news causing her to drop her book. Whatever dirt Jackie Collins was dishing was nothing compared to what her son was about to say. “What’s the good news?”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

Mac picked up her bottle of wine and took a healthy chug straight from the bottle. “There is no doubt in my mind that Sheyla Samonte is innocent. The evidence we have on her is paper-thin. The pieces of the puzzle don’t fit, and an arrest wasn’t warranted. Stone caved in to media and political pressure and wanted someone, anyone, taken into custody.”

“Oh my goodness. Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. And here’s the best part. Mayes and I couldn’t even agree on whom we should arrest. He was convinced that Sheyla Samonte was our most likely suspect, so we took her in. I told Stone we had the wrong person behind bars.”

“Is that why he suspended you, because you and Mayes disagreed?”

Mac took another hit of chilled white wine. “I wish that was the reason.”

“Then why, for heaven’s sake?”

“Because I’m having an affair with our murder suspect.”

MAC AND HIS MOTHER
spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the loss of both his job and his lover. Victoria Parker sympathized with her distraught son, but it was also Saturday night, and she wasn’t going to let the shock of Mac’s suspension get in the way of her having a good time. She was never fond of pity parties anyway. Victoria Parker had stared down adversity in her life by solving her own problems, and she expected her son to do the same.

The Cougar Committee was going salsa dancing, and Victoria Parker felt chic in a Joseph Domingo cocktail dress with a matching pair of Louboutins she bought earlier that day at Barneys. Wall Street had finished the week in the red, and she wanted to celebrate by finishing her week in purple.

Mac lamented the temporary loss of his paycheck by picking at a pepperoni pizza and helping himself to a half-empty bottle of pinot noir, which he placed next to an already-empty bottle of merlot. For all the friends he had in the department, he had not received one single call of support. Meanwhile, the grinding pit in his stomach returned after a weeklong hiatus, only this time it had nothing to do with a soon-to-be-ex-wife investment banker, and everything to do with his girlfriend sitting in jail. He agonized over whether or not he should have fought harder for Sheyla and stood up to the pressure Stone had put on them. As a boyfriend, Mac figured, he had failed there also.

“Mackey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” suggested Victoria Parker. “I’m on your side. When it comes to being a cop, nobody has better instincts than you. Stone’s a politician. He’s kissed more ass than my gay hairdresser. You did cross the line with Sheyla, however, and for that you deserve forty lashes. As for your so-called ‘friends’ from the precinct, if they’re not calling you because you’ve been dating a trans woman, then you might as well tell those jerks to lose your number.”

“You’re right, Mom. You’re always right. But what am I going to do about Sheyla? Once she’s released from jail, how is she ever going to trust me again? I can’t explain it, Mom. Something about her made me forget what I was doing and use poor judgment. I acted like a fool.”

“Just like every other man who’s ever fallen in love,” said a wise woman in a gorgeous dress who had broken her fair share of hearts. Victoria Parker helped herself to a glass of pinot noir and sat across the table from her dejected son.

“Mackey, I thought about this while I was getting ready. You once said Sheyla isn’t a normal girl. Well, you’re wrong. Sheyla’s as normal as you or me. Think about it. After you told me this afternoon how the case unfolded, I started seeing the girls from
Pearls of Asia
in the roles they fill: Diamond is the Diva; Nadia is the Working Girl; Ashley is The Prodigy; Reyna is the Godmother; and Sheyla is the Beauty Queen. Guess what, Mackey? I just described all the men who worked at my old brokerage firm. You have to forget what’s ‘normal’ and understand that what happens at
Pearls of Asia
also happens at places like Apple or Google. Heck, even your own precinct. They’re people, Mackey, just like everyone else. They have dreams to chase, bills to pay, and families to support. And yes, handsome men like you fall in love with beautiful women like Sheyla. So I’ve got just one question to ask you before I leave here and dance this fabulous fifty-something ass off.”

“What’s that?”

“What are you willing to do to win your life back?”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

Sunday, September 21, 2008 - 6:00 am

“Sheyla Samonte may not have been the only ‘gender illusionist’ bedded by Paul Osher. Another waitress from ‘Pearls of Asia,’ who wished to remain anonymous, claimed she once had a year long affair with the San Francisco tycoon.”

Vanity Fair

M
AC’S PHONE JOLTED HIM
out of his Napa-induced coma. It was six o’clock in the morning, and his aching back wanted to know why he spent the night sleeping on his shower floor. His half-mast eyes were focused on his bedroom-ceiling fan, debating which was spinning faster; the fan or his room.

“Is this Mac Fleet?” asked a voice that scared a hundred men into submission.

“That depends,” asked Mac, who wasn’t exactly sure what his name was. “Who’s asking?”

“It’s Reyna. Reyna Cruz. From
Pearls of Asia.
Remember me? Sheyla gave me your number. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

Mac didn’t mind, but his mind did. “It’s okay, Reyna. Just turn the volume down a few notches. What can I do for you?”

“Hey, I spoke to Sheyla this morning. She phoned me right as my Latin boyfriend was about to give me my morning wakeup call. Can you believe the timing of that bitch? Anyway, she told me what you said to her last night. What did you mean when you asked her to trust you?”

Mac sat upright, hoping getting blood to flow through his body would clear the fog from his head. It didn’t. “Because I don’t believe Sheyla murdered Michelle Osher. I never have. I’m going to find the real killer and get her out of jail.”

Mac stood up and stumbled around his room, causing his headache to register 9.7 on the Richter scale. “The Chief of Police, the Governor, the Mayor, they all wanted us to make an arrest as soon as possible. So we had to peg the murder on someone. Before last night the only evidence we had pointing to Sheyla was that she lacked an alibi and was left handed. Once we found the knife in her purse, it was all over. We had to take her into custody.”

“Well…” teased Reyna, “I think I can help you. Why don’t you come over to my place?”

Twenty minutes later, The Sub was anchored outside Reyna’s house.

“WOW, SHEYLA WAS RIGHT,”
observed Reyna after sliding into The Sub’s cavernous passenger seat. “You can have an orgy in this thing. Listen Mac, let’s first go to Diamond’s apartment. I tried calling her but she doesn’t answer. It’s really strange. That girl holds onto her cell phone like a baby holds onto a pacifier.”

Reyna then pulled out a neatly typed piece of paper. “I’ve dummied up this petition to give trans people more rights in the workplace. We’ll ask Diamond and Ashley to sign it and see which hand they use to write with. If that kind of evidence can work against Sheyla, it can work against anyone else, can’t it?”

“No reason why it can’t,” answered Mac. He looked over at Reyna and noticed the scar over her left eye, which for this morning at least wasn’t covered up by six layers of makeup. “Reyna, do you mind if I ask how you got that?”

“I like to tell people it’s from the family branding iron, but the real story is not nearly as funny. I got it the night I told my father I wanted to transition. He’s a general in the Philippine Army, and let’s just say he didn’t take the news very well. My last memory of him consists of his right fist driving into my face. His regiment ring turned my face into a bloody casserole and left me with a dozen stitches above my eye. I called my brother from my hospital bed and asked him to pack a suitcase for me. The doctor’s patched me up, and later that same day I bought a plane ticket to the United States. I haven’t seen my family since.”