The Name of the Rosé

by Christine E. Blum

  “Shelly is going to call me when she gets the DNA results back. When we met, she suggested the fish might come from fresh water in places like Nicaragua, so I’m going to start researching that angle on the web.”

  “That at least sounds like some progress is being made, although I still feel that Jimmy and I could be arrested at any moment. It’s the curse; it’s back, I just know it.”

  “You keep mentioning that, Sally. Care to fill us in?”

  “Peggy lived through it. She remembers as well.”

  Peggy gave a solemn nod. “It was one week of hell.”

  “Oh my God, you’re scaring me.” Aimee was both wide-eyed and teary, not an easy feat.

  As a precaution, we filled one another’s wineglasses before circling closer around Sally and Peggy.

  “First off, it rained for five days straight, which in and of itself wasn’t a bad thing. We always need the water,” Sally began.

  “The problem was the lightning. It struck a palm tree and knocked out the power for the entire block. Now that I think about it, the tree was on your property, Halsey.”

  I didn’t know why, but Peggy’s realization made me uneasy.

  “That’s right,” Sally picked up. “The Hollen-backs were living there back then. They fought continuously, and we thought God was trying to teach them a lesson. The garage burned, along with their cars, they moved soon after and the new owner built what is now your office.”

  It dawned on me that the spot in my backyard where I could never get anything to grow must be where the palm once stood.

  “My neighbor Danny was recovering from a broken kneecap he’d suffered in a surfing accident. He just had to go out in those prestorm big waves. He was hooked up to a machine for electronic bone stimulation, and when they couldn’t restore power right away, I had to take him back to the hospital. It was on the way home that I had my car accident.”

  “Oh my, Peggy. What happened?” Aimee reached for her hand and proceeded to check her body for telltale scars.

  “A damn cat, that’s what happened.”

  “It was more than a cat; there was a chain of events sort of like a Rube Goldberg device, where one small thing triggered another and another, and half an hour later, your toast was buttered. And cold.” Sally was clearly on the shortest distance between two points side.

  “Right. I was driving along the west perimeter of the Santa Monica airport and I guess water had been building up at that end of the runway. Suddenly, it overflowed, causing a mudslide on the hill and into the road. I swerved to avoid it, but the car behind me wasn’t so lucky. It hydroplaned and ran into a street sign, knocking it over. I tapped my brakes so I could stop my car and go for help. That spun me around. I was then facing oncoming traffic.” Peggy drained her wineglass, parched from her tale.

  “And that was when the cat—”

  “Not quite yet, Halsey,” Sally continued. “I was heading back from Bob’s Market. I’d picked up the prime rib roast I’d ordered for Joe’s birthday.”

  “They have the best meat department,” Aimee gushed nodding her head as she thought about it.

  “By that point, the road had turned into a shallow river, with just enough water to make it impossible to control your car. I was on a collision course with Peggy.”

  “I figured I had one chance and took a sharp right into the alley, narrowly avoiding hitting Peggy. My car stopped on the incline and I got out to rescue Peggy.”

  “At that point my car had stalled,” Peggy continued the story. “When Sally opened my side door to pull me out, a cat jumped in to get out of the rain and I jumped out of my seat in fear. I recoiled, and I must have knocked the car into gear. The street sign that had been knocked into the cat’s yard must have spooked him. Sally quickly lunged in and across my lap, her feet hanging out the door as we rolled backward down the hill all the way onto the golf course.”

  “We both spent the next three hours in St. John’s ER. Thankfully, I knew some of the girls on duty that day, and we were put in a room right away.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot for one week. I can see why you call it a curse, Sally.”

  “That wasn’t the end of it.” Mary Ann now had the floor and our undivided attention.

  “I was just a teenager and we lived on the western end of Rose Avenue. There was an eighty-year-old lady who lived alone across and a few houses down the street. As I was waiting for the school bus one morning, I saw the nurse who looked in on her each week go into the house. About a minute later, I heard a horrible scream. I’ll never forget it.”

  “That was that same week. I’ll be darned,” Peggy reflected. “The poor dear had been knocked out. It was a botched home robbery, as I recall. They never did find out who did it.”

  “Thankfully, she recovered,” Mary Ann continued. “But she could never stand to spend another night in that house. She moved back East to live with a relative. They did catch the guys, thirty-five years later! I know because I worked on the cold case at the Times. The cops managed to match DNA from a recent crime to that found in the old lady’s house. It was two kids who were sixteen and seventeen at the time, and they’re finally behind bars.”

  “Bravo, Mary Ann.” I had to marvel at my talented group of friends. Her mention of DNA testing made me wonder if any was done on the envelope addressed to Sally with the prescription drugs.

  “I’ll never forget the sign outside the cold case office downtown. It said, A city that forgets its murder victims is a city lost. This is where we don’t forget.”

  “That was beautiful, Mary Ann. I sure hope if we have been going through a curse we’ve kicked its butt to the door.” Aimee kicked the air, just in case.

  Not yet, sweet Aimee.

  Sally’s cell phone rang.

  “It’s Augie. I’ll put him on speaker. This is Sally, and I’ve got the group with me as well. What’s the news?”

  We all held hands.

  “We finally have a cause of death for Jonas, ladies. Without any outward physical signs, we had to run a series of toxicology panels. He was poisoned by a lethal injection of a high amount of scopolamine.”

  “What’s scopolamine?” I asked, and everyone nodded with the same question.

  “I know it as hyoscine. It helps with postoperative nausea and can decrease saliva if administered prior to surgery,” Sally the nurse told us.

  Peggy and I both covered her mouth to prevent her from saying anything more. No need to fuel Augie’s fire.

  “I figured you would have heard of it, Sally. In the Colombian drug world, it’s also called ‘the Devil’s Breath’ because it causes the user to be devoid of free will, hallucinate and be highly susceptible to the power of suggestion. People empty bank accounts, commit crimes, they’ve even been known to sell an organ.”

  “Jeez,” Peggy said, and then remembered to keep quiet.

  “The same drug that’s used in hospitals does these horrible things to people?” Aimee asked, and I knew what she and Tom would be discussing at dinner tonight.

  “I was told that the difference is how it’s extracted and processed. It comes from the borrachero tree, which grows wild in that part of South America. The DEA recently busted the owners of a nightclub who were using the drug as an added bonus for their male patrons to seduce women.”

  “What does all this have to do with us, Augie?”

  “Nothing, which is why I called Sally, not the rest of you.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this. Give it to us straight,” Peggy demanded.

  “Okay, one of the mechanics at the airport came forward and told us that he’d heard Jimmy and Jonas having a heated discussion the afternoon before he was found dead. Another guy corroborated the story. They couldn’t clearly make out what the guys were saying but agreed they were arguing. That, along with the fact that Jimmy lives with you, Sally, and I know you keep all kinds of medical supplies at home, including syringes—well, I had no choice but to bring him in.”

  “Wh
at?” we all said, and then started shouting our objections at once until the noise level started attracting dogs.

  “Quiet down, everyone, so Augie can hopefully explain himself.” I called the room to order.

  “Those syringes are for Joe’s allergies. Are you kidding me, Augie?” Sally was incredulous.

  “I’m afraid this is no joke and I have a warrant to search your home. We’re parked just in front, if you’ll be kind enough to open up for us.”

  * * *

  We all flew out of Peggy’s house to look up the street.

  “So much for kicking curse’s’ butts,” Sally said.

  “This has nothing to do with a curse,” I said. “It was suggested that the fish stuffed with heroin came from in or around Nicaragua, and we now know the poison that killed Jonas most likely came from Columbia.”

  “So?” Aimee asked.

  “I’m afraid these shipments could be tied to the drug cartel and Jonas may have stumbled on to what was going on. We’d better steer clear if we know what’s good for us.”

  “What about Jimmy?” Sally asked in a scared whisper.

  “He’s probably safest in jail for the time being,” Peggy replied.

  “At least until we find out who killed Jonas,” I said.

  “But how are we going to do that? We can’t go messing with drug dealers!” Aimee was tearing up.

  “We will appear to have lost interest, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work on the case in other ways. Everybody in?”

  “No. This isn’t right, and I don’t want to put you girls in danger. This is a family matter and Joe and I should be the ones—alone—to deal with it.”

  This was more than Sally had said all day.

  “Is that what we do, ladies? When someone is in trouble, do we walk away and let them sort it out for themselves?” Peggy asked.

  “Not in my neck of the woods we don’t,” said Mary Ann.

  “Nuh-uh,” said Aimee between sobs.

  “Then I ask again,” I said, looking at Sally. “Everybody in?”

  I put my hand out, and each girl, including a reluctant Sally, placed hands on top in a pledge of solidarity. “Time for stealth sleuthing.”

  CHAPTER 10

  After numerous phone calls, several mini Wine Clubs and some clandestine meetings, a plan was hatched and ready to be executed. We crouched in the shadows of the Santa Monica airport.

  “There must be another way to get in from the back,” I whispered as we crept along the side of the north runway.

  “I’m really hating this idea,” Aimee said, forgetting to whisper.

  “Shhh,” we all replied.

  Sally, Peggy, Aimee and I had figured tonight was as good a night as any to go back and check out Rusty’s hangar. With Jimmy arrested and in jail, we hoped that everyone involved with this drug operation would be taking a breather.

  We were about to find out how wrong we were.

  It was around eleven and the small airport was closed to air traffic. It had a peaceful feel to it, the few navigation lights that were left on casting a warm glow over the open space. Up here, we could really feel the ocean breeze, and if it hadn’t been a bit foggy, we’d have been able to see the pier lights on the ocean. Technically, we weren’t breaking and entering because there are plenty of open spaces around the field for gaining access. Now, if we found the hangar locked, that would be another story . . .

  We’d made a stop at our local sports store earlier in the day and procured headlamps from the camping department. We thought we looked pretty darn cool, even though Peggy chose to wear hers around her neck. Suddenly, we heard a swooshing noise overhead and froze in our tracks. We watched a peregrine falcon descend on a field rabbit crossing the runway and scoop the creature up in its impressive talons. That got me thinking again about what Charlie might have hit that could also quickly disappear. Falcons hunt at night, so I ruled out that possibility. The answer was there in my brain somewhere.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Sally said. “The sooner we get answers, the sooner we can spring Jimmy.”

  “We’re going to have to figure out how to expose whatever we find. We can’t exactly cop to breaking into a hangar,” Peggy responded.

  “First the problem, then the solution,” Sally replied.

  “How about an anonymous phone tip?” Aimee offered. “I do them all the time.”

  We all stopped to think about that for a minute.

  “Someone’s coming!” I could hear several sets of footsteps coming from not too far behind us. “Turn off your lights, and let’s hurry to the hangar, where we can hide. It could be animals or patrol officers; either way, we can’t get caught or Jimmy has no hope.”

  We all broke into a quiet run, and as soon as we reached the north row of buildings, I led them to the hangar Rusty used as his headquarters. We quietly crept toward the back of the cavern, away from any light sources.

  “I can’t see!” Aimee complained.

  “Everybody get behind me,” I said. “I have my hand on the outside wall of the hangar. I’m going to follow it along until we reach the back. Sally, hold on to my other hand, and then Aimee, grab Sally’s and Peggy, you bring up the rear.”

  We snaked our way around to the back, and when we turned the corner, something or someone ran straight into me, knocking me and the other three down like bowling pins.

  I felt something wet on my face and assumed I was bleeding. Until I heard the sniffing around my ear.

  “Bardot?”

  I flipped on my headlamp and sure enough, my dog was staring down at me, ears flopping and tail wagging. There was a leash attached to her collar. I pivoted the light so I could see who was attached to the other end.

  “Marisol! What are you doing here with Bardot?”

  From behind me, I heard rustling and looked to see the girls in various stages of sitting up.

  “Bardie needed to go out, I could hear her crying from my house,” Marisol explained with authority.

  I turned to her, and when the headlamp hit Marisol’s face, I noticed she had duct-taped small flashlights to each side of her camo Krispy Kreme Doughnut cap. I stood up.

  “First of all, that is not her name and you know it. Second, she’d been out just before I left. Third, if, and I mean if, she needed to go out, since when do you take her all the way to the airport? At midnight? You were following us, weren’t you?”

  “Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, and the flashlights slipped from their forward position and the lights crossed in front of her. She looked like she had run face-first into a lightsaber war.

  “And what is with that ridiculous head thing you have on?”

  “I need to be able to see to pick up Bardie’s—I mean Bardot’s poop.”

  I gave her the evilest eye I could muster.

  “You and I are going to have a long talk when we get home to reestablish new ground rules. And I want my house key back. You girls okay?” I asked the group behind me.

  “We’re good, Halsey. It seems you took the brunt of the run-in,” Peggy said.

  Sally took off her lamp and shone it over my face. “Your nose is starting to bruise. I hope it’s not broken.”

  “Geez,” I moaned and gently ran my hand over my very tender proboscis.

  “Hey, you guys, this door’s unlocked!” Aimee had stumbled upon a point of entry into the hangar.

  “Marisol, you and Bardot stay right where you are, I mean it! Keep watch and let us know if you hear anyone coming. Understand?”

  “English is my first language, and what I don’t understand is why you’re so cranky. It’s past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

  I made a move toward her, and Sally pulled me back to the hangar door.

  Once we were inside, I turned on a more powerful flashlight I’d been carrying in my backpack and handed a second one to Peggy.

  “Shall we each check a corner?” Peggy asked. “Aimee, come with me.”

  I nodded, and Sally and I went toward the area
where I’d visited Rusty’s workspace with Jack.

  “It looks just like it did the other day,” I whispered to Sally. I slowly let the light scroll along the corner walls. Sally, impatient to find something, used her headlamp to go over the shelves above the work desk. Meanwhile, I picked through a metal bucket that held rolled-up plans.

  “Wait a minute,” I said, trying to keep the paper I’d opened from curling back into itself. “Sally, can you hand me that big wrench over there?”

  I anchored one end in place and held the other side.

  “Don’t tell me you actually know what you’re looking at, Halsey. If you’re that smart, I’m going to have to have an honor-student bumper sticker made with your name on it!”

  “Keep your voices down,” we heard Peggy admonish.

  “I couldn’t build a plane from this, but some of the parts sound familiar.”

  I ran my light over the plan all the way to the bottom right corner, where the legend was.

  “Crapola! Well, we know Rusty’s a liar.”

  “How?” Sally peered over my shoulder.

  “These are plans for a Pietenpol Air Camper. It says so right here.”

  “Oh-kay?”

  “I specifically asked him about one, and he said he didn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “Oh. I was hoping for something more damning.”

  “We’ll find it, Sally.”

  “Maybe we already have,” said Peggy, joining us.

  “Yes! What have you got?” Sally jumped up and down, creating an eerie echo throughout the chamber.

  “Check this out,” Aimee said, showing us an open book. “This is a Sunset Western Garden Book from 1979. We found it under a big, smashed ice cooler.”

  “And? Is this the nail in Rusty’s coffin?” Sally was clearly agitated.

  “This page was bookmarked,” Peggy said, taking the book from Aimee.

  It was part of the B section in the alphabetized western plant encyclopedia.

  “He was interested in growing Brussels sprouts? So what?”