Free Sleuthing for a Living (Mackenzie & Mackenzie PI Mysteries Book 1) by Jennifer L. Hart

for pizza?"
    "We just had pizza."
    I looked at her blankly over Helga's roof. "So, what's your point?"
    "Nothing, I just figured I'd mention it for the record. Hey, can I drive?"
    "No. You're officially grounded after the some girls comment." She wasn't really, but I wanted my protest on the record.
    Mac blew out an exasperated breath. "Did it sound as stupid as I thought it did?"
    I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Honey, I know he's cute and all, but don't go changing who you are for a guy."
    "Easy for you to say," she grumbled. "You're gorgeous."
    My heart squeezed. "And so are you. But you have so much more going for you than I ever did. You're smart and capable, and you know enough about life to never let anyone take advantage of you. Plus you have a mother who would slay dragons for you. Or pesky quarterbacks with jock itch."
    She snorted. "Subtle."
    "I'm just saying, don't carry Golden Boy through science no matter how many times he flashes that dimple."
    "Don't worry. He's an honor roll student, so I don't think he's after me for my brain."
    I cut her a sideways glance. "That doesn't make me feel any better. You'll tell me if you want to go on the pill, right?"
    "Mom!" She barked the word. "I don't even know his last name. Jeez, I'm not that stupid."
    I said nothing.
    One thing about Mac: unlike me, she knew when to extract her foot from her mouth. "Sorry."
    I blew out a sigh. "Don't be. Getting pregnant in high school wasn't the brightest move I could have made. And it's not something I'd recommend to anyone, especially not you. You've got your whole life ahead of you. So if you do want to go on the pill, tell me."
    She was quiet. "Did you know my father's last name?"
    Oh no, I didn't want to go there. "Mac."
    "I don't want to know." She shook her head. "If you say he wasn't good enough to be my father, then I believe you. I'm just curious."
    And really, what could I say to that? "Yeah, I knew his last name."
    She nodded, and we drove in silence, both pretending that was good enough.
     
    *   * *
     
    "So how far did you get in your search into Paul Granger's death?" Mac cracked open a bottle of water and sat on the couch in front of her main PC.
    "Um, Google?" I sat next to her so I could watch her type. "Oh, and I Facebook-stalked him, too. He was one of those sandwich people."
    Because she was Mac, she knew right away what I was talking about. "Do people really think anyone is interested in their lunch? Okay, so you've covered the basics. But unless you're an idiot, you're not going to be spilling all your deep dark secrets on social networks. So, I'm thinking we need to find out a little bit more about his job and financial stats. Did you meet with the wife yet?"
    I glanced at the clock. "Not yet. I'm supposed to meet up with her and Len at his office at six, but it would be nice to have accomplished something."
    Mac was busy typing furiously. "Okay, well let's start with a standard background search. Name?"
    "Paul Granger."
    "And he lives in Boston. Get your credit card out."
    I frowned at her. "Why?"
    "Because for fifty bucks we can find out everything from a criminal record to marriages and divorces to neighbors, lawsuits, and judgments."
    "Cripes," I breathed, looking over her shoulder. "Do me."
    "Mom, focus."
    "I just want to see."
    Mac blew out a sigh and typed in Mackenzie Elizabeth Taylor, Boston, MA . We waited while the entire World Wide Web was scoured for my dirt in less time than it took to make a K-Cup of coffee.
    "Nada." Mac sat back in her chair. "Way to keep it on the DL."
    I frowned. "That's weird. Shouldn't it spit out something like address, phone number, anything?"
    Mac leaned in close. "Depends on where they're getting their sources. If you have a valid driver's license, anything on public record should show up."
    It was odd, but I didn't have time to fall through the internet looking glass. "Back to the task at hand. Here's the card." I handed it to her, fairly sure there would be