“That’s not Cedar Bend Winery,” I said.
“Nope. It’s out in California. A place called Stony Pike Winery. Owned by Bret Ivey and his lovely wife Imelda Sanchez Ivey, until they divorced in 2006.”
“But you said he married Nicole in 2002, right?”
“Right.”
“So he’s a polygamist as Ivy and Ivey, at a minimum.”
“But why?” Cindy asked. “Why would a man choose to be married to two women at the same time?”
“Isn’t that every guy’s fantasy?”
“Imagine the cost of maintaining two households. Kids, cars, whatever.”
“The Imelda marriage is legally over?”
She switched to an online database. “Looks like it.”
I pointed at the computer. “Can you find out how much Nicole Ivy is worth?”
“Why?”
“Maybe his wives maintain him.”
“Sugar mommas?”
“That’s what Blue is,” I said. “Why not Nicole?”
“Naughty boy,” Cindy whispered, and started typing.
__________
I CHECKED MY WATCH. We’d been gone from the fat bottomed Nicole’s home for almost an hour. “Any luck?”
Cindy stretched and checked her espresso cup, which was empty. “I can’t say for certain, but her name is on five properties in the Dallas area alone. The overpriced cottage and four commercial locations.”
“Mortgages?”
“Doubtful. She’s a principal in the law firm of Ivy, McLellan and Brown.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I know,” Cindy said. “But I checked their website.” She motioned to the screen. “There she is, big bottom and all.”
The same blonde from the mall stood with two silver haired men on steps leading to a chic office building. A sign bearing the firm’s name graced the wall next to the door.
“There’s a brain in that head?” I asked.
“She’s got something that led to her name getting top billing, but it might not be a brain.”
“What kind of law do they practice?”
Cindy clicked the ‘About’ link. “Entertainment.”
“He’s got a nose for money. I wonder how he hooked up with her?”
“No idea. What are you going to tell Blue?”
I chewed my lower lip. “The truth. That’s what she hired me for.”
“Good girl,” Cindy said.
“I’m not your dog.”
“Calm down, Maxine. I meant that I agree with your choice. Depending on how she feels about her marriage, the news will either be good or bad for her. But that’s not our call. She hired us,” she emphasized the word, “to find him, and that’s what we’ve done. Do you want to call her now?”
“Should we take another look at the house, see if he’s still there? I’ll call her on our way back to Arcadia.”
Cindy closed the computer. “It can’t hurt. At his age, the love fest is bound to be over.”
WRECKING MY LIFE
BLUE STOPPED IN FRONT of the garage apartment but hesitated before opening her car door. The piece of her heart she’d given to Bret was already healing, and she was resigned to the end of her marriage. But she was conflicted about approaching one of Bret’s lovers, and about having her back at the winery. Until last night, Blue had had no idea Annie was involved with Bret. The girl was young but composed, and Chef was right: Annie was a natural expediter. Good with people, good with order details, a good sense of timing. It was hard to find someone with the right set of skills to keep the kitchen flowing together. From that perspective, Blue couldn’t ask for a better employee.
But she had slept with Bret. Annie might be naive when it came to relationships, but she was a grown woman, surely able to tell the difference between right and wrong when it came to a sexual relationship with her boss. How would she react once she was back in the kitchen? How would Blue and the rest of the staff react?
Blue shook herself and opened the car door. This wasn’t about Annie. In truth, she was a very young and inexperienced woman who had been manipulated by a man who’d manipulated an older and much more experienced Blue. And although she didn’t totally feel it, Blue told herself Annie deserved compassion, not anger. Blue’s whole life had been about moving forward and shaking off failures. This marriage would be no different. She straightened her shoulders and headed for the stairs.
__________
THE SIRENS WAILED FROM a great distance, and Blue barely registered the pounding of feet up the stairs and the bump of a body as it eased past her. A light brown form sat beside her. Blue heard urgent sounds that must’ve been words, but couldn’t bring her mind to tune in to their meaning. She had no point of reference for what was happening, so Blue responded in the way every well-bred Southern female is trained from birth to respond to a stressful situation: with a polite smile.
Then she fainted.
__________
DETECTIVE MITCH STONE SAT next to Blue on the tailgate of his truck and told her to take another sip of Dr. Pepper. He was parked on the street under the arching branches of a cedar elm that was dropping its leaves due to the drought. A slight breeze stirred the air but his face was slick with sweat and he dried his forehead with a handkerchief. The area around Annie’s garage apartment was alive with activity, and the scent of decomposition rode the breeze. He waited quietly until Blue seemed to notice the motion around her. She looked at him, almost in confusion, and he smiled when her eyes cleared. “Better?”
“I never drink this stuff,” she said, touching the cold can to her forehead.
“There’s nothing like sugar for dealing with shock.”
“I’m not in shock.”
“You fainted because you got overheated?”
Blue hesitated. “Maybe I am a little shocked.”
“You’re Blue Ivey?”
She nodded. “How did you know?”
“I lost a bet with my wife and had to take her to your winery not long ago.”
Blue blinked. “Had to?”
“Wrong words. I got to take her to your winery.”
“I’m sorry, did we meet there? So many people come through the place…”
“No, we didn’t. I called in your license plate and got the registration details.”
Blue’s gaze locked on her Prius, parked in front of the garage doors. A shudder ran through her and Dr. Pepper sloshed onto her hand. She instinctively licked it away and realized she still had Annie’s key in her hand. Blue held it out. “Annie keeps this under the ivy.”
Mitch put the key on the tailgate between them. “I’m Mitch Stone, with the sheriff’s department. Can you tell me what happened?”
Blue forced her attention back to him. His kindly blue eyes were mesmerizing and Blue found it easy to talk. “One of my employees lives here. She hasn’t been at work for a couple of days, hasn’t called in, and no one’s been able to contact her.”
“One day, two, three?”
“Today’s Saturday?”
Mitch nodded.
Blue thought. “Tuesday. I’m pretty sure she was at work Tuesday.”
Mitch jotted a note. “I’d imagine running a winery keeps you pretty busy.”
Blue nodded.
“Do you check on all your staff personally?”
“No. Well, sometimes. Today, it seemed appropriate that I come check on her.”
“Why today, especially?”
A pickup truck pulled up behind Mitch’s, and flame-colored hair flashed through the windshield. Cass stepped from the cab and joined them. “Hey Mitch, Blue.”
“I thought you were helping Bruce cook,” he said.
“Nobody helps my brother cook,” Cass answered. “He’s an animal in this new kitchen. Thinks he’s Gordon Ramsay.”
Blue perked up. “That’s good and bad.”
“The food is good,” Cass said. “The attitude has to go. Where’re we at?”
“You’re not on duty,” Mitch
said.
“I’m not on duty,” she agreed. “I heard the call on the scanner, recognized Blue’s name, and decided I’d be more use helping my partner than being abused in my own kitchen.” She looked at Blue. “You reported a death?”
Blue tried to swallow and found that her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth. She took another sip and nodded. “My expediter, Annie.” Her gaze flew to the apartment over the garage. “She’s in there.”
“Blue was telling me why she came to check on Annie instead of sending someone else,” Mitch said.
Cass leaned against her truck’s hood.
Blue looked down at her hands and then focused on Cass. “Annie was having an affair with my husband.” She looked at Mitch. “She was one of several girls he’s slept with at the winery. Apparently he broke up with her in the last few days.”
Mitch shifted. “This Annie worked for you and was sleeping with your husband?”
A small car slowed to a stop a few houses away. Blue watched as a thin man hung a camera around his neck. He nodded at the little trio, then stepped onto the lawn.
“Not too close, Wally,” Cass called. “They’re still working.”
He nodded again and raised the camera to take a photo of the garage.
“Annie?” Mitch said, drawing Blue’s attention back.
“She worked for both of us. And yes, according to my staff, she was his latest conquest.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“I only found out about it last night. Mostly, I feel sorry for her. Bret’s quite manipulative and she’s pretty young.”
“It’s unusual that anyone who’s been cheated on wouldn’t feel angry.”
“Oh, I’m angry all right,” Blue said, color returning to her cheeks. “I’m furious. At Bret. For all he’s put me through. For how bizarre his behavior has become. For spending all our cash. And especially for cheating on me. But I’m angriest that he’s put the winery at risk by doing all this. I’ve spent nearly five years helping him build it, and now he seems determined to destroy it all.”
Mitch cocked an eyebrow at Cass, who motioned for him to be quiet. A heavy van rumbled to a stop behind Cass’s truck and the county’s lanky Medical Examiner, John Grey, and his skinny assistant Porky Rivers stepped out.
Blue drew herself together as she looked from the van to the garage. “I hope she didn’t do this because of him,” she whispered. “He’s doing his best to wreck my life, but I’d hate to think he could push someone to suicide.”
THE BREAK-IN
TWO HIGHLAND PARK POLICE cars were parked in front of Nicole Ivy’s residence, blocking the yellow Corvette in the driveway. A sedan so ugly it had to be city issued was parked at the curb. Nose-in behind it was a crime scene van. A gaggle of folks were gawking at the house as I cruised slowly past. Cindy turned to watch as I made a left at the next corner. I pulled to the side of the road and parked. “What is that about?” I asked.
“It can’t be good. Does he have a temper?”
“Blue didn’t mention it if he does. Let’s chat with the neighbors.”
I pulled to a stop half a block away. The police cars and gawkers were still in place. No uniformed presence was visible. We walked up to the small crowd and Cindy whispered, “Watch and learn, Maxine. Keep your mouth shut.”
I started to protest but Cindy was already in motion. She gently bumped one of the elderly women.
“I’m so sorry,” Cindy said. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, honey. We shouldn’t be blocking the sidewalk like this.” She was a doll-like thing, barely five feet tall. Her beautiful white hair and wrinkles made her look close to one hundred.
“What’s happening?” Cindy asked.
“A break-in, dear.”
Cindy took a step back. “We’re looking at houses in this neighborhood. I thought Oak Lawn would be safe.”
“It’s usually very safe around here,” a young man in jogging shorts and a sweat streaked t-shirt said. “Whoever broke in knew what they were doing. The alarm wasn’t triggered.”
“Maybe he didn’t set it,” Cindy said. “If the neighborhood is so safe, the owner might not’ve thought he needed it.”
“Not he, she,” he said. “Nicole’s ex-husband was a brute. She always sets the alarm, even when she’s home.”
Score one for Cindy. She’d just confirmed her online findings.
“If the alarm didn’t go off, how was the break-in discovered?”
An elderly man wearing a Texas Rangers ball cap mopped his forehead and said, “Nicole and her husband, this is her second husband, came back from breakfast and found his music room ransacked.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I fought to keep my eyebrows from shooting to my hairline.
“It happened this morning? In broad daylight?” Cindy wrapped her arms around herself. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Could’ve been last night,” the old lady said. “Nicole flew back from Los Angeles this morning and Baxter was away on business last night.” She unzipped her purse. “I look after Ted while she’s gone.”
“Ted?” Cindy asked.
“Their toy poodle.” She glanced at a ball of fluff poking from her purse and I realized it was a dog. “Nicole and Baxter got back about an hour ago and I was bringing Ted home when the police rushed the place.” She leaned close and I caught a whiff of lavender. “Lights flashing, sirens wailing. We haven’t had that much excitement since old Mr. Simpson dropped dead during his morning constitutional. Do you remember, Jack?”
The old man nodded sagely. “Aneurysm. Took him right out. We should all be so lucky.”
“Did anyone see anything? A getaway car?” Cindy asked.
“Marjorie spotted a pickup truck when she was out for her jog this morning,” Jack said. “Did you get a plate?”
The old lady shook her head and dabbed at her face with a hankie.
Jogging? At one hundred? Man, I had a lot to look forward to.
“They’ve had workmen in and out lately. It never crossed my mind that it shouldn’t be there.” She patted Cindy on the arm and smiled at me. “Don’t let this put you off, dear. This is a safe place for everyone, even your type.”
I frowned, struggling to find her meaning. Cindy put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “Thank you. It’s hard to know what kind of people live in a place until you move in.”
And then it dawned on me: Marjorie thought we were lesbians. Score another one for the cuz for handling it so well.
“Is the husband a famous musician?” Cindy asked.
The old man looked thoughtful. “He certainly makes enough racket to be a professional musician. I’ve never heard such tortured sounds coming from a banjo. But I think he’s some sort of traveling salesman. He’s gone enough.”
“And the wife?”
“Now she’s famous. A lawyer. Works with all those artsy-fartsy types in Hollywood. She travels a lot, too.”
“How long have they been married?”
“No idea. They’ve only lived here a few years.”
Four men in police uniforms and a woman in a suit came through the front door and turned to speak to Nicole, who was standing at the threshold. I subtly shifted behind Cindy.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“I used to date one of those cops.”
“Date or screw?”
“Whatever. We know each other. It would be bad if he saw me.”
We watched as they piled into cars and drove away, leaving only the crime scene van at the curb. I relaxed.
The group murmured goodbyes and drifted away.
Bret rushed out of the house and hurried to the Corvette. He nearly clipped old Marjorie as he backed out of the drive and sped down Hall Street, pausing at the stop sign and rounding the corner with a squeal of tires.
I grabbed Cindy’s arm. “Let’s follow him.”
“We’ll never catch him now,” she whispered. “Le
t’s go home. You can report to Blue and see if she wants us to follow Bret any longer.”
A CREATIVE THINKER
“YOU CALL,” THE BLOND said, holding the phone across the pickup’s cab. “You didn’t even try to follow BB.”
“Really?” The dark-haired man rubbed his eyes. “In this traffic?”
“I could’ve followed him.”
“You could?”
“Yeah. Get out in traffic and go.”
The dark-haired man twisted the key and the old truck coughed and sputtered to life. “Really?”
“You should’ve stole a better one.”
The dark-haired man squeezed the steering wheel. “Did you see the women? One with black hair and one with red?”
“The hot ones?”
“Yeah. They look familiar.”
“They do?”
“They’re from Arcadia, but I don’t know who they are.”
“More of BB’s girlfriends?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t like it.” The dark-haired man fiddled with the air conditioning. “You call him. This was your idea.”
“I always call him.”
“They’re always your stupid ideas.”
The blond pulled at his nose. “They’re not stupid. I’m a creative thinker.”
“Ah, that’s it. For all these years, I thought it was stupidity.”
“There’s no need to be nasty.”
The dark-haired man slipped the truck into gear. “Call him. Tell him we’re coming back and see if he can figure out where that other woman lives.”
“Can we stop first?”
“You have to pee again?”
“I’m hungry, too. It’s as easy to get bawled out on a full stomach as it is on an empty one.”
The dark-haired man gazed at the blond. “That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said in ages. Let’s eat.”
THE SCENT OF DEATH
MITCH WATCHED TWO UNIFORMED officers help Grey and Porky work the gurney down the steps from Annie’s garage apartment and around Blue’s Prius. Mitch had told her they’d need to keep it at the scene a little longer, and had one of the uniformed officers drive her home. Once the gurney reached the van, the medical examiner wiped the sweat from his forehead and motioned to Mitch to join him. Cass followed.
A Case of Sour Grapes: A Cass Elliot Companion Novel (Cass Elliot Crime Series Book 3) Page 12