Syrah and Swingers

by Sandra Woffington

  But that was a lie. Monsters lived in the room with him.

  Discovering that Joy was his half-sister, his fraternal twin with two separate fathers, gave him both a sense of belonging and of foreboding. And knowing that their fathers had each adopted and raised them apart from each other raised even more questions—questions he’d never stopped to ask before. Like, “Who are my parents?” or “Why did his father never marry and give him someone to call ‘mother’?” The gremlins popped up when he least expected them. They asked these questions, knowing he could not answer them. “Who is she—your mother?” Their visit to prison to see Belladonna, who had poisoned them as children—that much she admitted to and they remembered—didn’t help.

  As the car shot down the road, a routine memory shot through his mind. He and Joy clung together as the gurney shot down the hallway. Like always, the flashes of the florescent ceiling lights blinded him. Maybe they always had. They lay on their side facing each other. He knew the girl back then. But did he really know her at all? “Who is she?” a gremlin popped up to ask.

  Two men ran alongside the gurney, David and Sam. “Why did they adopt you and split you apart?” said another gremlin.

  Max focused on the golden hills to tune out the gremlins and tamp them back into the shadows. He saw fissures and fractures in the hills and rocks that threatened to cascade down and bury them both.

  “In a hurry, Max. Ease up on the gas,” said Joy.

  “I got a call last night as I was burning our DNA results,” said Max. “Ursula survived the poisoning, and she’ll be back in prison in a day or two.”

  “What was she poisoned with?”

  Max laughed. “You know how long tox screens take in real life. Only in fiction do they get the results on-the-spot.”

  “Right. Well, I wasn’t entirely convinced that during our interview, her saying, ‘I’m your mother’ was true.”

  Max nodded. “Good, because I’m skeptical too.”

  “But, Max. She knew us. She was there.”

  “She fed us belladonna berries in our oatmeal, Joy. We both remember that. I just wish we remembered more.”

  “We were too young to remember.”

  “We’re the same age, but you remember more.”

  “Memories aren’t always kind to us, Max.”

  “I know. They’re pointy-toothed, hairy-faced gremlins.”

  Max parked along the curb, two doors down from Elwin and Sophia’s house. Max knocked on the door. The owner of the house, an elderly woman with soft peachy skin but red and swollen eyes, answered. She had an oxygen hose hooked over her ears and under her nose, and she had her hand on the handle of a cart with a tank. She had short white hair—a man’s cut—which Max surmised was easy to care for and her attire was just as simple: polyester beige pants over a button-front blue shirt. “Can I help you?”

  The moment Max flashed his credentials and badge, Mrs. Anderson burst into tears, which made her cough, deep and raspy. She waved them in, and Max and Joy followed her.

  Mrs. Anderson led them to the living room, a space filled with beige-on-beige. Only a multicolored, hand-crocheted afghan, thrown over the back of a sofa, added any color to the drab room. But photos of family added life: an old woman, maybe a grandparent, a man who looked like her, and a grown daughter.

  Mrs. Anderson sat down in an easy chair with great effort. She caught her breath. “Asia knocked on my door this morning right before your people showed up. She told me Ted had died. Poor thing. I offered to make her tea, but she wanted to lie down. Ted was such a kind young man. I’m still in shock.” She coughed again and held a tissue to her mouth.

  “We’re sorry, Mrs. Anderson. But we need to ask a couple of questions,” said Joy.

  Mrs. Anderson nodded. “My husband passed away several years back. His mother lived in the cottage out back. We were good company for one another. She passed last year, and I thought, Addy—that’s short for Adelaide—rent the place out. Make some money and do someone a favor.”

  Max knew this conversation had a chance of derailing, as Mrs. Anderson needed the company. He pulled her back with an abrasive question. “To your knowledge, did Ted use drugs?”

  “Oh, heavens no! He came in late sometimes, but that was normal, working in a restaurant and all. He was quiet and respectful.”

  “Did he have friends over?” asked Joy.

  “Not really. He’d only moved here three months ago. He got to know Elwin and Sophia, though. They seemed to take him under their wing. Nice couple. When I’m sick, Sophia brings me a casserole or a tub of soup.”

  “Did you spend much time with Ted?” Max kept the questions rolling.

  “No.” Addy waved a hand and furrowed her forehead. “He didn’t want to hang out with an old lady—and his landlord. He kept to himself, but if I needed something lifted or moved, he was quick to help. I felt sorry for him. When he interviewed for the cottage, he told me that his parents had just been murdered during a robbery in their home. He’s an only child. I couldn’t say no. He was like a stray cat I took in.”

  “Did you meet his guest?” asked Max.

  “Asia, oh yes. I had them both over for tea yesterday. What a sweetheart! Ted’s family took her in. They were her foster parents—good people do still exist in the world. I told her she could stay in the cottage. Ted had paid up through the month, and you all told her not to leave town.”

  “Is there anything else you can think of that would help us?” asked Joy.

  “Not a thing. I’m sorry. Sophia said it might be a drug overdose. I just can’t picture it, but looks can be deceiving. Did your people find anything in the cottage? Am I in trouble?”

  “No, Mrs. Anderson, you wouldn’t be in trouble even if we did find something. We don’t have the facts yet,” said Joy. “We need to speak to Asia now.”

  “Just go through the sliding-glass door, and you’ll find the cottage. Poor little thing. Asia was so upset. We both cried.”

  Max and Joy stepped outside, past flowerbeds of blue and pink hydrangea. A whirring sound bit into the silent morning. Max nodded to a gardener, who had been trimming, but who now swept a loud leaf-blower from side to side, directing the trimmings into the planters.

  After crossing under a patio cover and over a flagstone path that cut through the lawn, Max and Joy reached the door of a tiny studio cottage, a little A-framed structure with lots of windows and a cozy beige face with white trim.

  Max knocked on the door.

  Asia swung the door open. If she had been crying, it had been a while ago, because her eyes were not puffy or red.

  “Please come in. Do you know what happened to Ted yet?” Asia wore a pink T-shirt over gray sweatpants, and she had a sheer pink scarf wound around her neck and knotted at the front.

  Joy answered, “It’s too soon.”

  “Please, sit down.”

  The room could not have been cozier, and Max imagined Ted enjoying the little house and having it all to himself. After New York, the sunshine, greenery, and open spaces of the valley must have welcomed him. The wood furniture and the yellow and white floral sofa with mismatched brown chairs gave the room a warm eclectic feel. Stock black and white pictures of vineyards in white frames and a cheap sun sculpture in three shades of metal filled the small space with warmth and hospitality.

  Max and Joy sat on the chairs, while Asia sat cross-legged on the sofa.

  “Mrs. Anderson said you’re Ted’s foster sister,” said Max.

  “That’s right. My mother died of a drug overdose,” said Asia. “I moved out of Ted’s house three years ago, and I hadn’t seen Ted since then, so I thought I’d surprise him.”

  “You’d lost touch, then?” asked Joy.

  Asia shrugged. “It’s normal. I wasn’t his real sister. I only lived with his family for five years, and Ted was four years older than me. I aged out at eighteen and had to leave. Ted was in culinary school.”

  “That must have been tough,” said Max.

/>   “Life is tough. But that makes us tough, right?” Asia played with the cord of her sweatpants as she spoke.

  “Or it breaks you,” said Joy. “It’s kind of unusual that you would attend a swingers’ party with your brother. Isn’t it?”

  Asia was quick to answer. “Not really. He’s not my brother. Not a blood relation—and we weren’t having sex, which I’m sure you’re going to ask.” Asia’s tone signaled her defense.

  “Look, guys, I’m no angel. I don’t pretend to be. If you knew where I’d been in my life, what I’ve seen, and what my mother put me through, you’d understand.”

  “Tell us,” said Joy.

  Asia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “I found my drug-addicted mother dead from an overdose. Have you ever seen anyone that is supposed to love you and protect you die?” Her voice tried to maintain equilibrium, but that failed. Anger seeped through. She locked her eyes on Joy’s. “I wasn’t even sad that she died. I was happy to see her dead. She let her boyfriends do what they wanted to me and my brother. For drugs! When Mom died, Bo was eighteen. He couldn’t go into foster care. Me, I got lucky. I had a second chance with Ted’s family.”

  “Are you close with your real brother?” asked Max.

  Asia dropped her hands and again played with the cord of her sweatpants. “We used to be super close. We’re not anymore. He lives on the streets. We drifted apart. I’m really tired. What else do you need to know?”

  Joy asked, “When did you get to town? And how?”

  Asia kept her eyes on Joy more than Max. Max wondered if she had man-issues from her rocky past, so he stayed quiet and let Joy do the talking.

  “I flew into San Diego a few days ago. I called Ted from the airport. I was going to take the bus up to Vinoville, but he said he’d come pick me up so we could spend time together.”

  “Was he anxious or worried the past few days?” asked Max.

  Asia’s voice dropped to a defensive tone. “No, he was happy. He opened up about having met Nicole, Henri’s wife, and his new life here. He told me he’d started swinging. He wanted to take me to Victor and Gloria’s club, but I said that was too public for me, and then he suggested the party, but he was willing to cancel if I wasn’t into it. I was game. We set rules. I was not going to sleep with him—I think he hoped I would change my mind.”

  “What are you holding back?” asked Joy. “You’re nervous.”

  Asia stammered, as if not wanting to hurt Ted’s reputation. “It’s just that Ted told me some things. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “What things?” asked Max.

  Asia played with the cord. “Ted could be mean. Never with me, but he and his father had some knock-downs. Ted told me about the prank Sophia and Elwin had pulled on him, and even though he joined in, he was pissed! He threatened to out them unless he had a standing invitation to their parties.”

  Max made a note. “Did he also blackmail a man named Henri?”

  Asia dropped the cord. For the first time, she seemed animated and confident. “His boss? Yeah, he did. Ted told them that their secret was safe with him as long as he had a raise.”

  “Has he blackmailed you?” asked Joy.

  “When you have nothing to lose, people don’t have power over you. The most Ted did was to make a pass at me the night I arrived, but I’m like, ‘Hey, dude! Personal space! No kissing-cousin shit,’ and he backed off. I told him that if and when I wanted to go there, he’d know. I think that pissed him off, but he didn’t make a move again.”

  “It sounds like Ted liked to take what he wanted, any way he could get it,” Max observed.

  “Ted never did stand up to his father without getting beaten back. But moving here, I think he picked up some of his father’s bad habits. He told me he even tried to see Sophia without Elwin there, but she wouldn’t let him in, said he knew the rules. He laughed it off and went home.”

  “And that pissed him off too, I imagine,” said Joy.

  Asia nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Did he have anything to do with his parents’ death?” asked Max. “Did he hire someone to kill them?”

  “Not a chance. Ted isn’t the confrontational kind.” Asia caught Joy glaring at her, and she dropped her gaze.

  Joy tilted her head in thought. “Asia, if Ted used his influence over Elwin and Sophia, it stands to reason that he didn’t stop there. Did he ever molest you?”

  Asia’s eyes narrowed. “Ted’s father would have killed him if he touched me.”

  “Of course,” said Joy. “I’m sorry.”

  Asia shrugged. “Like I said, life is tough.”

  “Don’t leave town without notifying us,” said Max. “We’ll have more questions, I’m sure. Mrs. Anderson told us she’s letting you stay. Get some rest.”

  For the first time, Asia let loose of the cord and sighed a deep breath. “She’s a very sweet lady. Who knows, maybe I’ll move here. It’s a lot different than New York.”

  “I highly recommend my town if you like peace and quiet.” Max set his card on the table and rose to leave.

  Joy followed him out.

  Once in the car, Max paused. “There’s something strange about that girl. Did you notice that she never looked at me, only you.”

  “I noticed. She was abused, Max. She probably doesn’t trust men.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. She wasn’t in the same bedroom as Ted last night either.”

  “And Ted wasn’t exactly the nice new kid on the block we thought he was. It sounds like he had enemies in the group.”

  7

  Max’s phone rang. “Hi, Captain.”

  Captain Jayda Banks was a no-nonsense black woman with short-cropped hair and a muscular build. She kept every one of her officers toes-to-the-line and efficient, and she did it with an iron will and a wit that could cut someone’s head off. “Draven Blackmoor is at La Lionne Sauvage Vineyard Resort and Spa. But Max, he has an alibi. He was having dinner, alone, in the bar. He chatted up the bartender and never left other than to pee. He moved to a booth and stayed on his laptop after that. He left when they kicked him out at closing time, which was two.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Captain.”

  “What’s wrong, Max?”

  Max pulled to the car to the curb and parked. “The captain found Draven Blackmoor. He has an alibi.”

  Joy’s shoulders dropped, but she let out an incredulous laugh. “He always does.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Joy’s eyes shimmered like black deep pools from which she pulled dark memories. “I told you about Blackmoor’s parents. Roll forward to about four years ago. Blackmoor’s sister and her family are killed. Similar MO, stabbed viciously. No one was ever caught, and Blackmoor was miles away and in public.”

  “Joy, the man works with potential serial killers. It sounds like one of them had rage and sought Blackmoor’s sister to exact revenge for Blackmoor’s inability to help him.”

  “I know. I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. I met Draven the next year. As I told you, shortly before I graduated, Dr. Friedrich Hoffman came to see Blackmoor. He said he’d written a paper accusing Blackmoor of doing more harm than good with his intervention program, citing that Seth Randals had been arrested for multiple homicides in Nevada. He wiped out entire families, first cutting the throat of the fathers as they slept, then stabbing the mother and letting her bleed out, and then cutting the children’s throats.”

  “What was Blackmoor’s reaction?”

  “That he’d helped lots of kids but he didn’t help them all. Seth was a failure.”

  “What did Seth say? I presume the FBI BAU interviewed him.”

  “Seth never said a word. Someone in the jail slit his throat.”

  “Man, Blackmoor should find another line of work. I’m beginning to feel sorry for him.” Max put the key in the ignition. “I’ll drop you at the station and go introduce myself to Blackmoor.”

  “I’m going with you.”
>
  “Like hell you are!”

  Joy reached out and grabbed Max by the wrist. “I’ve got my brain around this, Max. You have to trust me. I know him. I need to be there to read him. You can’t do that.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Max, why did you come with me to see Belladonna?”

  “I told you—to protect you. You couldn’t read her because you were too close. Like now.”

  Joy raised her voice. “The point is, we make a great team—one of us is keen to see the truth. We complement each other. What you see, I miss. What I see, you miss. We have to both be there. I can set my history aside.” She picked up an invisible small box and set it on the dashboard. “There it is. It will sit there and stay in the car.”

  Max turned the ignition and the car’s engine rumbled to life. He smiled, remembering the invisible onion Joy had peeled on the last case and now the invisible box. “That’s the gosh-darnedest, dinkiest box of history I’ve ever seen. Just trying to squeeze in the Draven Blackmoor chapters would take a forklift and a shipping container.”

  Joy retorted in a cold monotone, “Not anymore. From last night until this very moment, I squished Draven Blackmoor into that tiny box. He’s inconsequential to me and getting smaller as we speak. You, on the other hand, Max. There’s enough of you in my life already to fill a shipping container.”

  “No there isn’t. My ego alone would take up multiple containers.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.”