Swept Up
Authors: Holly Jacobs
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Amateur Sleuths, #Cozy, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
Swept Up:
A Maid in LA Mystery
(Book #4)
by Holly Jacobs
The characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is coincidence and not intended by the author.
Copyright 2014 Holly Fuhrmann
Dedication:
To
Lisa and everybody at the Trixie Belden homepage! Thanks for not only noticing my homage to one of my childhood favorite characters, but for embracing Quincy and her friends! So this one is for all of you, and for everyone else who grew up with the Bobwhites!
It’s also for all of Quincy’s fans. Thank you, thank you for all your support!
Reviews:
T
he first Maid in LA Mystery book had reviews from my family…including a stellar endorsement by my son, “At least it’s not a romance.” The second book had reviews from my Duets friends (comedy writers one and all) and for the third, a holiday novella, I had some help by a few holiday characters. So it should come as no surprise that I went looking for something a bit different for the 4
th
book, Swept Up. In Swept Up, Quincy’s first adventure, Steamed, is now a movie on the HeartMark Channel. So I thought some movie reviews were in order.
(
Fictional
) Reviews for the (
Fictional
) Mortie-winning movie
Steamed
, based on (the very real) book by the same name and featured in Holly Jacobs’ 4
th
Maid in LA Mystery,
Swept Up
:
“…A factual-ish movie based on a screenplay by first time writer, Quincy Mac, a one-time almost-actress, business owner and maid who accidentally cleaned a murder scene one day. If you can follow that sentence, this is a movie for you.” Hammer’s Hometime Movie Reviews
“Steamed, the movie, has created a whole new genre of flicks—The Mommy Mystery. Perfect for those mommies who want a laugh. And hey, even if you don’t laugh, it’s a couple hours away from the kids.” ~Mary’s Mommy Blog
“…at least it’s not a romance.” ~Miles Smith, screenwriter Quincy Mac’s son
“Quincy is one of the ditziest characters I’ve ever watched. Really, it takes a special class of crazy to think you’d end up in jail for accidentally cleaning a murder scene…now, committing the murder might be cause for worry. In retrospect, maybe Quincy was right to be concerned.” ~Rocko Bauers, Editor, Reporter and Movie Reviewer for the Orange County Prison Paper
Swept Up: A Maid in LA Mystery
(Book #4)
By Holly Jacobs
NetMovieDatabase
(NMD) link for Steamed: A Maid in LA Mystery
Dear Reader
(with a Where-Are-They-Now surprise ending)
Other Books available for Kindle
Excerpts from other Maid in LA Mystery Books
Steamed: A Maid in LA Mystery
(2013)
TV Movie — 119 minutes — comedy, mystery, romance
Producers
: Pam Ericson and Ralph Andrews
Director
: Sean Ahearn
Writer
: Quincy Mac
Summary:
Quincy Mac is a maid in LA—a maid who's accidently cleaned a murder scene.
Now she's a murder suspect with only one option—find the real murderer before she ends up in jail for a crime she didn't commit.
Quincy came to LA looking for fame and fortune. What she's found is infamy and misfortune.
There's a killer out there, and Quincy's going to them...or die trying.
Cast:
Quincy Mac—
Priscilla Samuels
Detective Caleb (Cal) Parker—
Jonas Miles
Steve Banning
—
Justin Fanning
Big G, Tony Garrakowski
—
Dylan Daniels
Tessa Compernalle
—
Marilyn George
Shannon Ball Banning
—
Mellie Adams
Shaley Banning
—
Peri Smith
Cassandra—
Kelsey Brooke
Willy
—
Zach Barns
Two hours earlier
“Speech, speech, speech, speech,” everyone in the giant tent yelled. I looked around my ex-husband Jerome’s backyard. Friends and family waited for me to say something.
My future-fiancé, Cal, offered me his hand and helped me up on the table. I reached into the pockets that someday-famous designer Katelyn Campbell had made for me and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
“It’s been almost two years since I accidentally cleaned a murder scene,” I started, which made all my friends and family clap. I’m not sure that cleaning a murder scene by acci
dent deserved applause, but I waited.
When they didn’t show signs of fading away, I said, “And,” very loudly. They took the hint.
“So much has changed in that time,” I continued. “I’m still a mother, a daughter, a friend, a maid, a business owner. But now I’m pre-engaged to the most marvelous man on earth and I’m a very lucky amateur detective….” Cal shot me a glare, and I put my notecard down and added, “a
retired
, very lucky amateur detective. And I’m a writer, too. Frankly, it all feels surreal, especially the writer part.
“I wanted to give my writing teacher and mentor, Dick Macy, writing credit for his help on the script, but he said no. But like I said in my acceptance speech, I wouldn’t be here without Dick’s help and tutelage.” I nodded at Dick and sent him a smile. He’d started out as teacher, then he was my mentor. Now, almost two years later, he was a friend. A very dear friend, and an occasional cohort.
“Dick believed in my abilities. My family and friends believed in me. The only person who ever voiced any doubts about my abilities was…me. So tonight—”
I looked at th
e clock and corrected myself. “Well, actually this morning—as I stand here with a Mortie Award in hand.” I realized I wasn’t sure where my Mortie statue had ended up, so I added, “Well, at least figuratively in hand, I want to thank all of you for your support and your belief in me. And I want to remind you all, but especially my sons,” this time I nodded at my three boys. Hunter, Miles, and Eli. They were my heart.
“I want to tell you boys that dreams do come true, so dream big. And for those of us who are a bit older, I want to say it’s never too late to live your dream. Even if it’s a dream you barely know you have. Even if you doubt yourself and have to lean on your friends’ and family’s belief in you. Thank you, everyone.”
Everyone clapped wildly. I resisted the urge to pinch myself just to be sure that
Steamed
really did win three Morties. One for director of a made-for-TV movie, one for costumes, and one for best original screenplay…that was mine.
I reached in the pocket on the other side of my dress—seriously, I know that Katelyn’s going to make it big as a designer because she can make a dress that looks sexy in an age appropriate way and she put pockets in it—and pulled out the star-shaped sunglasses that Lottie Webber had given me twenty plus years ago when I left Erie, PA for Hollywood.
“Lottie, I finally wore them on a red carpet for you.” I slipped them on again.
She laughed, as did everyone else. I’d heard the media had all commented on my glasses.
Let’s face it my five-minute cameo in
Steamed
hardly made me a movie star. If you watch the scene where the-movie-Quincy, played by Pricilla Samuels, meets the-movie-Shaley, played by Peri, at the party, you can see me in the background. I’m standing with an older man, sipping a drink.
That five-minute cameo had been the hardest part of my agent’s negotiat
ions with the movie powers-that-be. The studio wasn’t thrilled when I told them I wanted to Stan-Lee the movie and have a cameo in
Steamed
, but my agent, Deanne Simon, somehow made that part of the deal. And since I was up for a Mortie for best script, I didn’t feel too bad about wearing the glasses. I wasn’t a star, but I was an award- winning writer.
Deanne was currently negotiating my script for
Dusted
, a second movie based on the art heist I’d solved. I’d solved a third mystery, a very small mystery, over Christmas that same year. But that one I don’t talk about. I hadn’t mentioned it to Dick or Deanne because that one wasn’t fodder for a script. It was personal.
I picked out a few members of the cast of
Steamed
who’d come to our after-after party. I hoped they’d all sign back on for the second movie. Pricilla Samuels, who went by Cilla to her friends, was a much better Quincy than I felt I was. I mean, I don’t think she ever needed to suck in her stomach, and she managed to make my irrational fear (yes, I can acknowledge that my going to jail because I accidentally cleaned a murder scene wasn’t very likely…but at the time I was terrified) about being arrested seem plausible. She was standing in the corner with her husband, Dylan. Dylan Daniels. He played Big G in the movie. Dylan and Big G shared a lot of physical characteristics. And they were both very nice guys. Just plain old if-I-had-a-daughter-I’d-be-happy-if-she-dated-them sort of guys.
Cilla spotted me and came up and hugged me. “My agent said
Dusted
is looking good. I told her I was in and she said no matter what, don’t tell anyone how much I wanted to play you again or else she’d have nothing to bargain with. So don’t tell, but I so want to play you again.” She hugged me.
Cilla was a hugger. She was also a major actress who took the role of Quincy on the heels of her big budget movie that was coming out next year. She was playing opposite some of Hollywood’s biggest names. Deanne had mentioned the producers weren’t sure they could entice her back to another made for TV movie.
“I was afraid you’d feel it was a step backwards. After all you just finished that movie where you and Robert Downi—”
She cut me off. “Listen, Quincy. I’m an actress. And I love what I do. Working on
Steamed
was so much fun, and playing you was even more so. How could I say no to a chance to do it again?”
I knew exactly how she could say no. I’d been on the fringes of Hollywood for years, thanks to my marriage to producer Jerome Smith back in the day.
A number of actors who
made it big
bought into their own hype. Cilla was not one of those. Neither was her husband, Dylan.
I circulated through the room. Mom and Dad both hugged me and told me how proud they were of me. Even my very stick-in-the-mud (or stick up the…well, you know) brothers hugged me. It was sort of weird but in a nice way.
A lot of the cast, friends, and family came up to me as well.
After making the rounds of all the big parties we’d all come back to Jerome and Peri’s, where we watched the show again.
It was seven a.m., and I thought there was a very good chance that at some point I was going to simply topple over. But I hadn’t reached that point yet.
Seeing my script turned into a movie had been surreal.
But tonight, watching it win awards—watching me win an award—that was even more surreal. Surrealer?
I’d made my speech in my Katelyn Campbell designer gown
, and though it was as comfortable as a gown could be, I was ready for this Cinderella to turn back into herself. And I’d thought ahead and left a bag in Hunter’s room here at his dad’s.
I headed for the stairs and practically bumped into a rock-hard ox of a man. “Sorry,” I said.
“No problem, Ms. Mac.”
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
He shook his head. “Security, ma’am.”
He looked very secret-servicey in his dark suit and dark glasses. Leave it to Peri to decide we needed security. “Congratulations,” he said.
“Thank you.” I went upstairs and used Hunter’s room to change. I looked glam for an entire evening. That’s all I could manage.
As I changed into jeans and a comfy sweatshirt that had a Mac’Cleaner’s logo on it, I decided I was much more comfortable with the behind the scenes part of movie making than in front of the camera. If I had to be glam and put-together on a regular basis…well, I don’t think I could pull it off.
There was a knock on the door. “I’m in here.”
“It’s Cal.”
“Come on in.” He opened the door and I realized that here was someone who was glam and put together without even trying. He looked great no matter what he wore, but I’ll confess, in a tux, he looked hot. And totally kissable.
I walked into his arms and kissed him.
Yep. I was right.
Totally kissable.
“What was that for?” he asked, then added, “Not that I’m complaining.”
“That was just because you’re you, and I love you.”
He pulled the engagement ring I’d had around my neck for a bit more than a year. When I married Jerome all those years ago, I’d been swept away. I’d come to Hollywood with a dream of acting, and I’d swept that dream under the rug for romance and it stayed under the rug after my divorce while Tiny and I built our cleaning business.
Now, I’m not saying that sometimes love isn’t worth changing your dream for, but maybe true love doesn’t make you change, it just makes you bette
r, stronger. That’s how I felt about Cal. I’d been swept up by him as well, but rather than make me change, he’d made me better. When he asked me to marry him and I asked for time, he’d understood. Hence our almost-engaged status.
I leaned my head against him.
“Are we ready to make it official?” he asked, still toying with the ring on the chain.
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
He leaned down and nibbled at my neck. “And?” he asked between nibbles.
“And what?”
Here’s the thing, when Cal’s nibbling or kissing, or…whatever he’s doing. When he’s doing it, I find it hard to think. Frankly, I sometimes find it hard to breathe. Even now, I still find it amazing he’s mine. Whether the ring was around my neck or on my finger, he was indeed mine just as I was his.
He laughed. “You were thinking about this…” he prompted as he gave a gentle tug on the chain.
“Oh. How about in August we get officially engaged? On our two- year anniversary of when we met.”
“Quincy, you do realize we met at murder scene?” he asked, as if I needed reminded.
Even almost two years later, I still shivered at the thought. “I do. But I count our anniversary when we met outside the murder scene, so we basically met on a street. You looked so handsome as you walked toward me. I thought you saw me looking cute and vulnerable. I didn’t realize you thought I was a suspect.”
“I never thought—”
This was an old argument. I was trying to be romantic and didn’t want to rehash it. “Shh. That moment, when you walked over to me, I had a feeling there was something there. At least on my part. That moment, that’s what I consider our meeting. I’m not counting when you interrogated me as part of it.”
He shook his had. “You are so weird.”
“Lucky you like weird.”
He laughed again. “Yeah, it is.”
I started to move back into his arms, but he shook his head. “We’re in your ex-husband’s house, in your son’s room. One quick make-out session is all I can manage.”
I took a step back. “You
’re right. But later, at home…”
He nodded. “Later.”
I left my bag and dress on the hanger in Hunter’s room. There were other bags there. I come from comfortable folk—people more apt to wear jeans than haute couture.
After Cal changed, we went back downstairs and out back. My friend Honey had insisted that her restaurant,
Psst
, cater a breakfast. Mimosas, quiches, pastries, coffee…. It was wonderful.
I noticed that Honey and Big G, Cal’s best friend, were looking all chummy at a table. I saw Cassandra, who I’d met because of that original dead body, and Julian, who I’d met as I investigated the art heist, were sitting together with my best friend and business partner, Tiny and her husband, Sal. They still acted like newlyweds.
I took Cal’s hand. I understood how Tiny felt about Sal now. There was a sense of completeness when I was with Cal.
I saw Peri, talking to my mom. I loved they’d become so close. Jerome was talking to Mellie Adams.
I did a double-take.
Mellie Adams? Bleck.
There was no way Peri invited her, and I was certain that I hadn’t invited her. I couldn’t think of anyone on the set who would have suggested that she join us.
Which meant she was crashing.
I couldn’t believe she’d had the gall to crash my party tonight—or this morning. She was the most obnoxious woman I’d ever worked with. I’d visited the movie set one day and she’d shouted for me to go get her a bottle of water, like I was her maid. Well, I was a maid, but I wasn’t
her
maid.
Mellie played Shannon Ball Banning, a very secondary part
in the movie. One of dead Mr. Banning’s exes. Shannon hadn’t been very endearing, but Mellie was so much more obnoxious.
It wasn’t just me who had a problem with her. Pretty much everyone on the set did. From Sean, the director, to Cilla who played me. It seems Mellie thought that lead role should have been hers. She did her best to sabotage Cilla whenever they had a scene together. I hadn’t liked Shannon in real life, and I liked Mellie even less.
