by Jen Carter
Starved for Attention
An Otto Viti Mystery
Book 3
Jen Carter
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © Jen Carter
All Rights Reserved
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
About the Author
ONE
“Tell me again how you got roped into this?”
I looked across the fire pit in our backyard toward my friend Livy. She slouched low in her chair, probably a little sleepy from the big dinner we just finished and the cool spring air. I was feeling a little sleepy, at least. Maybe the big meal hadn’t been a good idea—not when she and her boyfriend, Hunter, had come over so that I could help her with a project. And maybe sending Hunter and my boyfriend, Nico, inside to open a bottle of wine hadn’t been a good idea either. Wine wasn’t known to wake people up and motivate them to work.
Livy sighed. “It’s really terrible, actually,” she said. “And the only reason I agreed to it in the first place is because it’s so terrible.” She scooted up in her chair and perched her foot on the side of the fire pit table. “The drama teacher from Temecula Hills High School disappeared without a trace about three weeks ago. No one knows what happened. It’s been tough on the kids at the school, especially the drama kids. The principal is trying to keep everything as normal as possible, so the school is moving forward with its spring play. Back in winter, I helped some of the neighborhood girls learn their lines when they did Romeo and Juliet—you know, just informally at home. So they asked me to help with this upcoming play. And when I say ‘help,’ I mean do everything.”
“There’s not a substitute drama teacher to run it?” I asked. From the corner of my eye I saw Nico and Hunter walking across the patio toward us, each carrying two wine glasses. I smiled at Nico as he sat in the chair next to me and handed over a glass.
“There is a substitute,” Livy said, taking a glass from Hunter as he sat next to her. “Fleming’s assistant director has been subbing in all his classes since he went missing. Luckily, she has the right credentials for that. But she doesn’t feel comfortable running a whole production on top of all the teaching she’s now doing. Honestly, she doesn’t really have the experience anyway. I wanted the kids to have the opportunity to do a play this season, so when they asked…” Her voice trailed off as she gazed into the fire, seemingly lost in thought.
“She couldn’t say no,” Hunter finished for her. “Not to the kids, and not to doing a stage production. She never could say no to the stage.” He grinned at his girlfriend and sipped his wine. Somewhere in that grin, I could see the unspoken memories of their years growing up together. I didn’t know how long Livy and Hunter had been a couple, but I knew they met when they were ten years old. With nearly two decades of memories, Hunter’s smiles often had an I-know-you-inside-out look about them.
Livy sipped her wine and then put it down on the fire pit table. “No, I couldn’t say no to any of it. But the kids aren’t catching on to the storyline very quickly, and they’re really struggling with their lines. It’s not going well.” She stared at her wine glass, backlit by the fire, and shook her head.
“I have a question,” Nico said. His San Diego Padres baseball cap covered his nearly-shaved head, and his hazel eyes were partially hidden in the cap’s shadow, but I could still see the honest curiosity on his face. “Why are you doing another Shakespeare play? If you did Shakespeare in the winter, why do Shakespeare in the spring, too?”
Livy looked up from the wine glass, her trance broken, and smiled. “That’s all I know!”
She and Hunter exchanged glances and both chuckled.
“You grew up in a town that did a Shakespeare festival, right?” I said. “And you performed in the plays that the town put on?” It had recently been brought to my attention that I knew very little of my friends’ backstories, so I had been making an effort to ask them about their lives.
“Yep,” Livy confirmed. “And we didn’t even do Shakespeare justice, but I know enough now to help these high school kids put on some kind of production. If only they could learn their lines.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me and picked up her wine glass for another sip. “That’s where you come in.”
I wiggled my eyebrows back at her. Yes, that was where I came in. I taught high school English in a different district, and my school was just beginning its week-long spring break. Temecula Hills was still in session, so that meant I would be available to dazzle those well-meaning, teenage thespians with my Shakespeare knowledge. Or, more likely, just help Livy drill their lines into them. “I will surely do my very best,” I said.
“So, Livy, has there been any update on the missing drama teacher?” Nico asked. He swirled his wine absentmindedly before smelling it and sipping it.
Livy shook her head. “No, not as far as I know. No one really knows what to think. The teacher—his name is Marcus Fleming—he lives alone, and all his family is out of state. From what I heard, he pretty much kept to himself, too. He didn’t have many friends, didn’t hang out with coworkers after school, nothing like that. So one Monday morning, he didn’t show up for work. The school tried to contact him, but there was no answer. They tried his emergency contact on file, and no answer there. The drama assistant, Esther, went to Marcus’ condo that afternoon, and he wasn’t home. His car was there, but he wasn’t. So she reported him missing. That was in late February, and here we are in March without any idea where he is.”
Hunter looked at Livy. “And they checked with his out-of-state family to see if he turned up in their neck of the woods?” He placed his barely-touched wine on the fire pit table.
“I think so,” Livy said. Her expression changed, becoming both pained and apologetic. “I hate to say this, especially since we don’t know what happened, but it’s sort of an awkward situation because the kids didn’t really like him much. They’re all worried about him, but they’re also sort of relieved that they don’t have to see him every day. They love drama and that’s why they continue in the program, but they’ve said he was condescending. One or two of them even called him creepy. So now they have all kinds of conflicting feelings. Worry yet relief. Guilt that they feel relieved. Stress that the program might not continue. It’s been very tough on them.”
“Is that why they’re having trouble learning their lines?” Nico asked.
“Maybe,” Livy said. “But then there’s also just the issue of being teenagers. They’ve got a lot going on. Classes, sports, work, worrying about college—you know how all that is. So it could be anything.”
Nico stood and took one more sip of his wine before pouring the rest into my glass. He stretched his arms over his head and said, “Hunter, let’s get out of here so these two can plan their Shakespeare-teaching strategy. What kind of video games do you like?”
Hunter also rose and poured the rest of his wine into Livy’s glass. “All of them.” He tousled Livy’s hair—despite her tryi
ng to duck away—and then followed Nico across the patio to the house. At the door, he turned and said, “Oh, if you need any extra help with this Shakespeare stuff, you know who you should ask?” He didn’t wait for us to answer. “Will.”
Nico, who was already standing inside the house, also turned to chime in. “Oh yeah, that’s right,” he said, his face lighting up. “That’s how he and Amy met, right? There was some sort of Shakespeare book or something that brought them together.”
I furrowed my eyebrows at Hunter and Nico. Neither Livy nor I answered, and after a moment the guys tired of waiting for a response. They continued through the house toward the video games.
I looked at Livy. “Is that true about Amy and Will?” I asked. “That they met because of a book?”
Livy shrugged. “I don’t know.” She smiled. “See, you don’t have to feel so bad about not knowing how all your friends and their significant others met. I don’t know everyone’s stories either.”
“I think it makes me feel worse that Nico knows more about my friends than I do—and he’s only been in Southern California for six months.”
Yep, it definitely did make me feel worse. I met Nico on a trip to Italy nearly two years ago and pretty much instantly fell in love. We had a long-distance relationship for awhile, but then he moved to California to be with me. At first I was worried that he wouldn’t like it here or wouldn’t adjust well, but clearly that hadn’t been the case. Not only had he adjusted well, but he also knew more about my friends than I did.
Actually, I think it made me adore him even more.
For the next hour or so, Livy and I talked about A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the most challenging scenes in the play, and the kids who needed extra special help with their lines. Nico came out once to empty the wine bottle into our glasses, and as we continued to talk and drink, our ideas became more inspired. By ten o’clock, I was sure that Livy and I were geniuses and would have those teenagers ready to perform within five days, even though they had another month of rehearsals. I was about to say just that when Livy’s phone chimed.
She leaned forward and grabbed it from the edge of the fire pit table. “Oh, it’s Amy. She sent a text to both of us.”
Vaguely I wondered where I had put my phone but figured it didn’t matter since Livy could tell me what the message said.
As she pulled up the full text, she smiled and continued, “We should ask her if Nico and Hunter were right about how she met her hubby.” Her smiled dropped as she read the message. Then she made a face. “What? Hang on.”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself, so I remained silent as she tapped the phone and then put it to her ear.
After a moment, she said, “Hey, Amy! So, what’s going on?” She paused, listening. “Okay, yeah. I’m sure that’s fine. Thanks for the heads up. Bye.”
She disconnected the call and put the phone back on the fire pit table.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Livy took a long moment to gather her thoughts, which was uncharacteristic. She almost never thought before she spoke, for better or worse. Either the wine had really gone to her head and slowed her thoughts or something was really not okay.
“Amy and Will were just getting home from a late dinner, and they saw Sophia Andreas and two of the Helton girls banging on my store’s front door, hysterical. Amy asked what was going on, and the girls wouldn’t say specifically—just that they needed to see me right away. Since it seemed pretty important and Amy knew that we were here, she gave the girls your address. They’re on their way over.”
“Sophia and two of the Helton girls?” I asked.
Livy nodded.
“Sophia’s in the play, isn’t she? And aren’t a couple of the Helton girls also in it?”
Livy continued nodding. Then she looked around the backyard as though still gathering her thoughts. “This could get interesting. Jada Helton raised her girls to be pretty level-headed, but Sophia is all over the place. And she has a knack for riling people up. It’s after ten o’clock on a Sunday night. This could be anything.”
I finished the last sip of my wine. With a couple teenagers on their way over, our night was about to change course, but there was certainly no need to waste good wine.
TWO
My family owned a winery in the heart of Southern California’s Temecula wine country. My grandfather not only built the winery but also dreamed up the beautiful surrounding enclave of restaurants, tasting rooms, and specialty shops. He named the enclave Otto Viti, which meant eight vines in Italian and represented the eight wine tasting rooms sprinkled up and down the street. Nico and my friends worked in Otto Viti. Livy and Hunter ran a little shop where they made homemade beauty products and remedies for minor aches and pains. Amy ran a book-slash-coffee shop. Nico was the manager of a tasting room called Entonces, though he was in the process of opening his own shop that offered wine tasting classes. Everyone in Otto Viti, sometimes called OV for short, knew each other. Which, for the most part, was pretty great.
Some business owners lived over their stores, though most of those people were either single or without children. The business owners with families mostly lived somewhere nearby. Athena Andreas ran Circe Winery’s tasting room, and she was the exception. She and her teenage daughter, Sophia, lived over the tasting room. Sophia hadn’t always been the most pleasant teenage girl, but she seemed to have mellowed since Livy hired her part-time at Mortar and Pestle. Getting into drama, especially with Livy helping out here and there, also seemed to have helped. She was growing into her own skin.
But she still had her moments.
Like tonight. Why in the world was she hysterically pounding on Livy’s door in OV? And how did she manage to get the Helton girls to join in?
“Should we go inside and wait?” I asked, standing. The house Nico and I rented was only about two miles from OV, and that meant the girls would show up any minute. We might as well be ready to meet them.
Livy got to her feet, swaying unexpectedly. “Whoa,” she said. “How much wine did we drink?” She picked up her wine glass and her phone, then turned toward the patio door.
“Well,” I said, following her into the house, “Probably too much to be helpful during times of hysteria.”
We found Hunter and Nico in the middle of playing some sort of golf video game. Hunter was swinging a controller around, and Nico was watching from the couch. Our little Goldendoodle puppy lay stretched across his lap. As soon as little Uni saw us, she jumped down and scrambled over.
“There’s no question who she loves most,” Nico said, nodding toward our dog.
I knew Nico meant me, but I was pretty sure Uni loved Livy even more than me. True, Uni generally chose me over Nico. But if Livy was around, she chose Livy over me. We sometimes joked that Livy made products at her store that attracted dogs.
Uni sat right at Livy’s feet and waited to be given the attention she was certain she deserved. Livy gave Uni a vigorous rub-down and then sat on the edge of the ottoman. Uni jumped on her lap.
“Yeah, there’s no question who she loves most,” I said, sitting next to Nico on the couch.
Livy scratched Uni’s head, smiling, and shrugged.
Hunter watched the television screen as his score flashed. Then he sat next to Livy as Nico got up to take his turn swinging his controller around. “How’d you come up with the name Uni?” he asked, taking his turn to scratch our little fur ball’s ears.
“When I was really young, I wanted a unicorn,” I said. “My sisters wanted a dog. We ended up getting a dog, and I couldn’t understand why they got their way and I didn’t get mine. I guess I never really stopped wanting a unicorn, but a dog named Uni is the closest I’ll get.”
The doorbell rang, quickly followed by banging on the door. Nico froze, mid-swing.
“What was that?” he asked.
“That’s the reason we came inside,” I said. “Some teenage girls are here to see Livy.”
Hunt
er and Nico both looked at Livy as she got to her feet. “I don’t know,” she said, her words coming a little more slowly than normal. “Don’t ask me.” She wagged her finger back and forth between herself and Hunter. “This is why we’re never having kids. They are so needy.”
She started toward the front door with me right behind her. The doorbell rang three more times.
“Coming,” she called. “Be patient, darlings. Do those breathing exercises I taught you.”
As soon as Livy turned the doorknob, the girls on the other side pushed the door open. It slammed right into Livy’s forehead, but the girls didn’t seem to notice.
“Livy! Livy!” they squealed. As Livy tried to grab her banged-up forehead, they tried to grab her arms and pull her out of the house.
“We need you, please!” Sophia said. “You’ve got to help us!” She continued tugging Livy’s arm.
“What’s going on?” Hunter said, appearing behind me in the entryway.
“We need Livy to come with us right now,” said one of the Helton girls. Jada Helton owned a café in OV, and she had five teenage daughters, all of whom she employed, and all of whom I had difficulty telling apart. I was pretty sure this one was Ashlyn.
“Hang on,” Hunter said. “It’s after ten o’clock. What’s so important that it can’t wait until morning?”
“We can’t tell you!” Sophia said. She suddenly let out a jagged sob. Her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but it was now coming loose and seemed to mirror the coming-undone of her emotions. “We have to show you. Come on, we have to go!”
“Wait a second, are you okay?” Nico said from behind Hunter. “What happened?”
All four of the adults inside the house were hovering around the thirty-year-old mark, some of us just over and some of us just under. And yet, from the way we spoke to the teenagers, I felt much older.
“No, no, no!” said Ashlyn’s sister, who I think might have been Gracie. “There’s no time to explain. We have to go.”