Dying on the Vine

by Marla Cooper

  At the front desk, a harried, heavyset woman was checking in a young man with a high blood alcohol content and a large piece of glass sticking out of his arm. Or at least she was trying to. He was babbling incoherently and was having trouble remembering exactly where he lived. I waited patiently as she gave him the third, fourth, and fifth degree.

  “Sir, I need you to help me out here so I can get you checked in.”

  “Fremont,” he slurred.

  “Is that the street, or the town?”

  “Freeeeeemonnnt!” He must have thought exaggerated enunciation would clear things right up.

  I waited while she dragged information out of him one bit at a time. Finally, she spun her chair around and retrieved some documents off the printer, handed them to the man, and pointed him to a chair. “Have a seat right over there.”

  Then she turned her attention to me. “Can I help you?”

  I slid my phone into the side pocket of my bag and gave her what I hoped would come across as a winning smile. “Hi, yes. I wanted to check on someone who was brought in earlier. Stefan Pierce?”

  She didn’t respond but typed something into her computer. She stared at the screen, then back up at me. “Are you family?”

  “No, I’m, uh…”

  “Then have a seat over there and someone will be with you in a couple of minutes.” A couple of minutes. I’d been in emergency rooms before, and “a couple of minutes” usually translated into at least an hour, if you were lucky—and since I had all my vital organs intact and nothing protruding from them, I doubted I would be.

  I smiled my best smile, hoisted my bag up on my shoulder, and tried to look as friendly, undemanding, and not-drunk as possible. “I don’t really need to talk to anyone. I just wanted a quick update.”

  She leveled a stare at me. “Well, I can’t give you one. HIPAA rules. Have a seat.”

  “Okay, look, I could tell you I’m his wife or something, but you and I both know I’d be lying. And if he made a list of visitors, let’s just say I’m one of the last people who’d be on it. But I’m the one who found him earlier, so I feel kind of responsible for him. I just want to make sure he made it.”

  There was a long pause while she stared at me, trying to decide whether she was going to help me out or not. She turned and typed something on the computer, then turned back to me. “I’m sorry, ma’am, visitors are restricted to family only.”

  “Family only?”

  She nodded while maintaining eye contact, then raised her eyebrows at me pointedly to make sure I got it.

  “Ohhhh, family only. So I can’t visit him?”

  “You got it.”

  “But I could maybe try tomorrow?”

  “You can try, but I’d call first. The main desk.”

  I blew out a sigh of relief. He was still alive. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

  The desk attendant nodded efficiently and turned her attention back to her computer screen.

  When I got home, I sent Laurel an e-mail summarizing the night’s events and told her not to expect me before noon. Good thing I’d turned off my ringer before I went to sleep, because when I finally did wake up I could tell my phone had had a busy morning without me.

  There were two messages from Lucas, the first asking me to call him when I had a chance and the second one insisting that he really needed to talk to me. He probably wanted to hear my version of what had happened at the winery, but I wasn’t quite ready to talk to him yet. Not until I’d at least gotten properly caffeinated.

  There was also a message from Brody, asking me how the dinner had gone. Based on the number of text messages I’d gotten that morning, he was the only one who didn’t know how my evening had gone.

  There was also a message from Danielle Turpin, wondering if I’d heard the news yet. I hadn’t talked to the gossipy wedding planner since the reception at Margot’s house, and I had no doubt she was fishing for information. Heck, she’d probably already confirmed with her sources that I was the one who found Stefan.

  Up until that moment, I hadn’t really thought about how this was going to look to other people—especially after my very public altercation with Stefan. As much as I didn’t want to have to talk to her, I’d have to call her back to make sure the rumor mill was at least running on accurate information.

  When I got into the office, I dropped my things and went to find Laurel. She wasn’t at her desk, so I went to the kitchen in search of coffee.

  The fancy coffee machine was all fired up and ready to go. Jabbing at the buttons, I coaxed out a tiny quantity of liquid that must have been an espresso. That wasn’t going to do. Where was my trusty old Mr. Coffee when I needed him?

  I poked my head out into the hallway. “Laurel?” No answer. I pulled out my phone and dialed her cell, ignoring all the new text alerts that had popped up since the last time I’d checked.

  “Hey, Kelsey,” she said as she picked up. “Are you in the office?”

  “Yeah. Where are you?”

  “Down the hall. Looking at your murder board.”

  “My what now?” I hadn’t realized she even knew about it, but I guess Brody and I hadn’t been as discreet as we thought.

  “You know, the big dry-erase board you and Brody set up in the spare conference room?”

  “How did you know it was a murder board?” Considering how eager she’d been to play Nancy Drew with me, I wasn’t sure why I’d felt the need to keep it a secret, but I had.

  “Because it says real big up at the top: ‘Murder Board.’ Nice handwriting, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’m in the kitchen, trying to make coffee, but I seem to be failing.”

  “Blue button.”

  “Got it. See you in a second.” I clicked off the phone, brewed a grown-up-size cup of coffee, and headed down the hall. Laurel was staring at the board deep in thought, tapping the side of her face with a dry-erase marker, which thankfully still had its cap on.

  “Oh, hey.” She jumped up to hug me, then pulled back to look at my face, her eyes filled with concern. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Some, but I’m still exhausted. Thus my inability to work basic office machinery,” I said, holding my coffee mug in the air, then taking a drink. “I kept replaying the whole scene in my head all night.”

  “I’ll bet. It must have been awful.”

  I filled her in on everything that had happened, including my late-night visit to the emergency room to make sure Stefan was okay.

  “Wow, he’s lucky you found him in time,” she said. “You probably even saved his life.”

  I smiled and took a sip of my coffee. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t expect a thank-you card,” Laurel said, laughing.

  “So, what do you think?” I asked, jerking my chin toward the murder board.

  Laurel sighed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Welcome to my world.” I studied the names Brody and I had written on the board. “Yesterday I was sure Stefan had killed Babs and skipped town, but now I don’t know what to think.”

  “It doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. I mean, whatever happened to him could have been an accident.”

  “I guess it’s possible. But as much as I’d like to think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time or that it was the universe’s way of telling him he’s a jerk, I can’t help but think someone did this on purpose.”

  Laurel’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Yeah? How come?”

  “First Babs, and then Stefan? It just seems like too much of a coincidence.”

  “So you think, what? That someone’s picking off wedding planners?”

  Yikes. I’d never thought of wedding planning as a profession that’s fraught with peril, but that was one obvious thing that Babs and Stefan had in common. “I don’t know what to think. But sooner or later the cops are going to want to talk to me, and I’m going to need to give them something more than just my ass
urances that I didn’t do it.”

  “Surely they’re not going to think you did anything. You’re the one who found him!”

  “I know, but I wouldn’t be the first person to return to the scene of the crime.”

  “Kelsey! Don’t even joke about that!”

  “I’m not kidding. At the funeral, Stefan accused me of murdering Babs, and now he’s in the hospital. You can see how that looks bad. I’m just saying, don’t be surprised if they show up here wanting to know what happened.”

  Laurel shook her head with conviction. “It won’t come to that. I’m sure they’ll talk to Stefan and he’ll tell them you weren’t there.”

  “Great plan—if he even remembers what happened. And if he doesn’t still hate me. And if he’s had a personality transplant.”

  Laurel’s face brightened. “Maybe we could go talk to him!”

  “Who, Stefan? Have you met Stefan?”

  “I know you guys have had your differences—”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “—but he has to know you’re the one who saved his life, and maybe he can tell us what happened.”

  “Laurel, we don’t even know if he’s conscious, or if they’ll even let us visit him, for that matter.”

  “We at least have to try.”

  It seemed ironic to ask for Stefan’s help in clearing my name, especially since he was the one who’d pointed the finger in the first place. But maybe if he did remember what happened, he’d let me try to help. For his sake and for Babs.

  “Okay, but we shouldn’t get our hopes up. In the meantime, we need to figure out how last night fits into all of this. I have a feeling that if we can figure out what happened to Stefan, it will lead us to Babs’ killer.”

  “You mean lead the police to Babs’ killer.”

  “Of course. I’m not going to go chasing down bad guys myself.” Especially since the bad guys seemed to have a penchant for wedding planners.

  Laurel chewed her lip for a moment. “Okay, then let’s make a list. Who might have wanted to kill Stefan?”

  I blew out a long breath as I mentally scrolled through a long roster of people he had wronged. “Jeez, try everyone?”

  “Kelsey!” Laurel made a scoldy face and tsked in my general direction.

  “What? It’s true!” I started ticking off possible suspects on my fingers to prove my point. “His ex-boyfriend, Haley’s dad, me…”

  “Okay, okay. I retract my question. Who actually rates a spot on your suspect board?”

  “Murder board,” I corrected.

  “Sorry, murder board.”

  “I can think of one person.” I uncapped a black dry-erase marker and approached the board.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Someone who’s cranky, temperamental, and had a big fat grudge against Stefan.” I wrote the answer out in all caps. “Miles Higgins.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Laurel’s eyebrows shot up. “Miles Higgins? Because it happened in his wine cave?”

  “Well, yeah, for starters, but there’s more to it than that.” I filled Laurel in on everything Zara had told me the night before: the out-of-control wedding party, the demolished vines, Miles’ lack of a good side. “And the time I met him, he didn’t seem very fond of Babs, either.”

  “That’s perfect! I mean, that’s horrible, but he makes a way better suspect than you.”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “So?” Laurel made an impatient gesture in my general direction.

  “So what?” I replaced the cap on the marker and folded my arms in front of me. “It’s not like I can go arrest him.”

  “No, but you have to tell the police!”

  “I know. I will. I just feel like they’re going to want more to go on than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re not going to arrest him based on gossip, speculation, and general bad manners.” I thought for a minute. “Maybe we could find out more. Like actual evidence or proof so they’ll take us seriously. After all, with Haley and Christopher’s wedding coming up, we do still have business there. And if I had to guess, Lucas is going to need our help more than ever.”

  “I don’t know, Kelsey, doesn’t that seem kind of dangerous?”

  She had a point. I wasn’t on Miles’ bad side yet, and I wanted to try to avoid it if at all possible. Still, I didn’t really have an option. Stefan had accused me of murdering Babs in front of everybody, and now he was in the hospital. People were surely going to talk. And it was probably just a matter of time before the police started asking around. Being questioned about Babs was one thing, but it was going to be a lot harder to convince the police that I wouldn’t have hurt Stefan, given our history.

  No, if I wanted to clear my name, I was going to have to find out what happened—the sooner, the better. “It’ll be fine.”

  Laurel chewed her lip. “How do you know?”

  “I don’t. I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better at all. Can you at least make something up?”

  “Because…” I thought about it for a second. “Okay, how about this? If Miles had anything to do with any of this, it would be way too risky for him to turn around and hurt us, too. I mean, don’t you think he’d need to lay kind of low after last night?”

  “Hey, that’s not bad!”

  “Yeah, for something I made up just now.”

  “Okay, fine, but I’m coming with you.”

  “I don’t know, Laurel. I don’t want to put you in danger—”

  “You just said it wouldn’t be dangerous! Besides, like you always say, there’s safety in numbers.”

  Having Laurel there would make me feel a little better. Not that she would be all that effective a bodyguard, but killing two wedding planners takes a lot more time and planning than only killing one.

  “Okay, fine. Lucas has been trying to call me this morning. Let’s find out what he knows and then make ourselves indispensable to him in his time of need.”

  Lucas picked up on the third ring. “Lucas Higgins.”

  “Hi, Lucas, it’s Kelsey McKenna.”

  “Kelsey! Thanks for calling me back. Hold on. Let me shut the door.” There was silence for a moment and then he was back. “Zara told me everything that happened with Stefan last night. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just glad we found him in time.” I paused. “Any idea what happened to him?”

  There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. “That’s the million-dollar question. From the looks of it, he got himself locked in and tried to escape.”

  “What? I mean, how? He knew the code. Doesn’t it work the same way going out as it does going in?”

  “Good question. Miles is looking into it. Anyway, we’re devastated by what happened. Thank God we have insurance.”

  Did Lucas know more than he was letting on? If his brother had been responsible, I had no doubt Lucas would help protect him. After all, a homicidal winemaker isn’t usually considered an asset in the winery business.

  “Anyway, thank you again for helping us out in a pinch. You’re a lifesaver. Both literally and figuratively.”

  “Thanks. I was happy to help, despite everything.” I had to force a smile so that I sounded like I meant it. If I was going to learn more about Miles or find out what happened in the wine cave, I couldn’t let on that his brother seriously creeped me out with his creepy creepface. No, it was time to secure our all-access pass to the winery. “So, what are you going to do now that Stefan’s out of commission?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. We’re going to need someone to keep things afloat and I was hoping I could talk you into helping us out some more—if we haven’t already traumatized you.”

  Bingo. “I’m sure we can work out something. How about if I come up and meet with you and we can talk about what needs to be done?” Laurel waved her arms to get my attention and pointed dramatically
at herself. “And I’d like to bring Laurel along, if it’s okay with you. I won’t be able to do this without her.” Laurel nodded encouragingly.

  “That sounds fine,” Lucas said, and I gave my assistant a thumbs-up. We made plans to meet the next day, and I hung up the phone.

  “We’re in.”

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the afternoon working on Haley and Christopher’s wedding. After confirming with Cask and Vine that they were available on the eighteenth, I got the contract all filled out and sent, relieved that Laurel and I weren’t going to have to whip up dinner for the guests. Now that I had the major vendors in place, the rest would be easy.

  While I reviewed the seating chart Haley had provided me, I found myself distracted. I couldn’t stop thinking about Stefan. Was he okay? Was he even conscious? And would he possibly, maybe, potentially be willing to talk to me?

  After work, I faced a tough choice: go home and stew about it or drive up to the hospital to see if I could get some answers. As much as I missed hanging out on my couch, I knew I’d sleep better if I could at least get some word on Stefan’s condition. Besides, if I could get him to talk, maybe I could get to the bottom of all this. Surely he’d be willing, right? Having a close call like that gives you lots of time to think about things, and there was a really good chance that he’d be less antagonistic. Plus, he was probably drugged, which would also be a major point in my favor.

  If he knew who had locked him in the cave, then he knew it wasn’t me, which would mean the majority of his rage would now be focused on someone else. Even if he didn’t know who did it, he must know that I was the one who had found him and called the ambulance. Would his attacker have done that? No way.

  But more importantly, we had something pretty major in common: we both wanted to catch Babs’ killer.

  After completing my must-dos for the day, I scooted out a little early and drove to the hospital. Okay, so maybe I should have called first like the ER lady had suggested, but I didn’t want anyone to dampen my resolve. I figured he’d been transferred from the ER into the hospital—after all, they weren’t going to just put a Band-Aid on him and send him home—so I marched up to the front desk and confidently announced, “I’m here to see Stefan Pierce.”