by Marla Cooper
“Yeah, and they’re also trying to figure out how the glass got there.”
“Glass? What glass?”
Corey paused. “Have I not talked to you since then? I’m sorry. Everything’s been such a blur. I thought I told you. They found another injury. A head wound. At first, they assumed all his injuries were from the wine barrels, but they found some shards of green glass in the wound.”
“Green glass?” My mind was reeling. “Like from a wine bottle?”
“That’s the theory. They didn’t even notice it at first, with all his other injuries, but now they think he might have been hit on the head before everything else happened.”
I thought back to the night in the wine cave. I hadn’t seen any broken glass, but there was so much mess I wasn’t sure I would have noticed.
“That’s not all,” Corey said.
“Uh-oh. What else?”
“They were asking me questions about you. Whether I knew you, things like that.”
“About me?” I squeaked. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’d met you, and that you’d been up to the hospital to visit. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course! It’s not like I have anything to hide.” At least, not in my mind. I hoped the cops would agree.
“That’s what I figured,” he said. “But I thought you should know.”
We talked a few more minutes, and he promised to keep me posted.
I hoped Stefan would wake up soon—for everyone’s sake. I’d just assumed that when he regained consciousness, he’d be able to tell everyone what happened. I’d even deluded myself into thinking we’d be able to make amends, or at least be solid frenemies. I’d even dared to hope that we’d use our newfound chumminess to figure out what had happened to Babs.
It had been a good plan, but right now I was on my own. And if things took a turn for the worse—no, I wasn’t even going to think about that.
What was the proper protocol for being a police suspect, anyway? Did I go into the police station, or did I wait for them to contact me? The former might make me look guilty, while the latter seemed like I had something to hide. You’re being silly, I told myself.
My dilemma didn’t last long, because no sooner had I delved into Haley and Christopher’s file than someone began pounding on my door in a way that sounded very unlike the knock of a civilian. Two thoughts popped into my head simultaneously: Try not to piss them off, and I wish I’d ordered dinner.
“Just a minute,” I called as I grabbed Babs’ datebook and stashed it under some blankets in my storage ottoman.
After taking a deep breath, I swung open the door to find the two detectives I’d met before, Blaszczyk (the cranky one) and Ryan (the cute one). Neither of them seemed to be packing pizza, but I let them in anyway and even offered them a beverage. Luckily they declined, because I wasn’t sure I had anything to serve them besides tap water and a bottle of pricy champagne that I’d been given as a thank-you gift—and that seemed like a gesture that could be misconstrued on many levels.
“I guess you know why we’re here,” Blaszczyk said, his tone gruff.
I nodded grimly. “You’re here about Stefan.”
“Very astute,” said Blaszczyk. “And now we need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course.” There was something that was bugging me about their visit, and it wasn’t just the fact that they didn’t seem to be hungry even though it was dinnertime. “Wait a minute, though; you’re SFPD. The whole thing with Stefan—that was up in Napa.”
“Right,” Ryan said. “We’re working with the Napa police.”
I sucked in a breath. “I’m guessing it’s not just because they didn’t feel like making the drive.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m just saying, you were investigating Babs’ death and now you’re looking into what happened to Stefan even though it didn’t happen here. You must think they’re related.”
“What do you think?”
“I’d be lying if I said I thought it was a coincidence.”
“Last time we were here, I remember telling you to stay away from Stefan.” Blaszczyk looked over at his partner. “Do you remember that, Sam?”
Detective Ryan nodded. “We were sitting right here on this very couch.”
“So imagine our surprise when we heard you were the one who found the body.”
Were they trying to rattle me, or were they just being imprecise with their words?
“I didn’t find the body! I found Stefan, and he was perfectly fine.” The image of Stefan’s crumpled body on the floor of the wine cave flashed through my mind. “Okay, well, not perfectly fine, but he was definitely alive.”
“Regardless, you were there at the scene of the crime after we specifically told you to stay away from him.”
“It’s not like I sought him out. Lucas Higgins called me when Stefan didn’t show up and he asked me to come help with an event. Then I found Stefan in the cave, and I called an ambulance.” I made an exasperated noise, then immediately regretted it. “I was trying to help him.”
Blaszczyk grunted. “You want some kind of award? How do we know you weren’t the one who put him there in the first place?”
Ryan shot his partner a look, then turned his focus back to me with a diplomatic smile. “Why don’t you take us through what happened when you found Mr. Pierce in the cave?”
“Of course,” I said, relieved to change the subject. I wanted to help, but Blaszczyk’s attitude toward me wasn’t making it easy. I took the detective through the events step by step, starting with Lucas’ phone call and ending with the ambulance taking Stefan away.
“You have to admit, it’s an awful lot to swallow,” Blaszczyk said. “Stefan Pierce accuses you of killing Babs Norton, and he ends up in the hospital just a few weeks later.”
“Except that he was totally wrong about me and Babs.”
“Was he?” Blaszczyk said, leaning forward with a fresh intensity. “It’s already been established that you were jealous of Babs because she was more successful than you. Then you had to go steal two of her clients. What’s wrong? The wedding business not quite working out for you?”
“I didn’t steal Babs’ clients! They came to me.”
“You must have loved that, didn’t you? Then you went to her office to gloat, and you got into an argument.”
“No, it wasn’t like that. I just went there to pick up the files. I even brought scones!”
“What happened? Did you snap? You couldn’t take it any longer?”
“What? No! I found Babs on the floor of her office.”
“Just like you found Stefan on the floor of the wine cave? That must be your—what do you call it, Sam?”
“Modus operandi?”
“Yeah, your MO.” His voice had gotten louder to the point where he was practically yelling. “First you killed Babs, then you pretended to find the body, then Stefan was on to you, so you found a way to shut him up.”
“I told you, I wasn’t even supposed to be there. They called me because he didn’t show.”
“And when was the last time you’d seen him before that?”
“I hadn’t seen him since the funeral. I swear!”
Blaszczyk flung a disgusted expression my way. “Never mind. We’ll get the evidence we need. Just don’t leave town.”
“I’m a destination wedding planner! My whole job is to leave town!”
“I’ll be in the car,” he said, right before storming out the door and leaving me gasping for air.
“Sorry about that,” Ryan said, giving me an embarrassed look. “He can be kind of a—”
“Jerk?” I had “bully” and “jackass” all lined up in case he needed alternative suggestions for finishing his sentence.
“He’s passionate about his job, that’s all.”
I looked up and Ryan’s eyes met mine. “He can’t really make me stay, can he? I mean, if you’re going to charge me, that’s different, but I thought that whole
‘just don’t leave town’ bit—I mean, I heard that’s not a real thing.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, we can’t make you stay. But you should keep in mind how it could look if someone thought you were trying to flee. It would look bad.”
“I get it, but I have a wedding in Catalina coming up, and a site visit in Maui. How am I supposed to do my job?”
Ryan relaxed into the sofa. “It would help if you let us know when you’re going to be out of town and where you’re going. Flight information would be a nice show of faith so we know when you’re coming back.”
“Sure,” I said, relieved at how much more reasonable Sergeant Ryan was being. It was too bad we hadn’t met under different circumstances.
“I’m sure we’ll get this all cleared up,” Ryan said kindly as he pulled a notepad from his pocket. “Now, I just have a couple more questions about the day you found Mr. Pierce in the wine cave. Did you have any other appointments that day?”
“Let’s see. That morning, I was in the office with Laurel. Then we—”
I stopped short. Will and Kate. Should I tell him that I’d set up a meeting with Stefan, but he didn’t show? That was bound to look bad, but it would be even worse if I didn’t tell him and he found out.
He cleared his throat after I’d hesitated a moment longer than one normally would when given the chance to provide their alibi, and my mind raced through the pros and cons of telling him.
“It’s okay,” he said. “If there’s something you want to tell me, it’s better to go ahead and say it. You don’t want things coming out later.”
He was right. In fact, I had a feeling he already knew. He was just giving me a chance to tell the truth. “There is something you should probably know,” I began.
Wait a minute. There was no way he could possibly have known that Stefan’s fake appointment with Will and Kate was with me and Laurel. We’d used a burner phone. Stefan hadn’t shown. There was nothing to tell. Even if they suspected, there’s no way they could prove it. If I told them, it was just going to give them the so-called evidence they needed.
But then again, Sergeant Ryan was trying to help me. Look at those big brown eyes. It was Blaszczyk I had to look out for; Ryan just wanted to learn the truth and—oh my God, he was good-copping me!
“You were saying?” Ryan asked, smiling patiently. I couldn’t believe I’d almost fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Blaszczyk had been a bully, then Ryan had swooped in, all nicety-nice-nice. He was trying to get me talking, hoping he could lull me into a false sense of security and totally get me to incriminate myself.
I pressed my lips together for a moment, then crossed my arms in front of my chest. “You should know that I visited Stefan in the hospital yesterday.” There, there’s your confession, Good Cop.
Ryan looked slightly peeved, but he corrected his expression back into friendly mode. “Ah, yes, we were aware of that already.” He waited for a moment to see what I’d say next. Let him wait. “Is there more to the story than that?”
“Nope. Just wanted to be up front with you, since you told me to stay away from him and all. Now, I assumed that was more of a suggestion than a warning—for my own good of course—so I figured it would be okay.”
Ryan peered at me. “Anything else I should know?”
“Oh, yes!” I snapped my fingers as if I’d just remembered a crucial detail. Ryan leaned forward, pen poised over his notepad. “I took him a peace plant,” I said. “Okay, whew! I’m glad I got that off my chest.”
The questions didn’t end there, but my naive assumption that Detective Ryan was on my side did. I modified my original plan of blurting out anything that popped into my head and instead politely told him everything I knew that would be of help—the key words being “that would be of help.”
I didn’t tell him anything that would incriminate myself and send them off on a wild-goose chase; that would be a waste of their time, and I really didn’t want to squander taxpayers’ money. Okay, I suppose selfishly I didn’t want to be arrested, either, so there was that.
After Ryan left, I collapsed onto the couch. They actually think I might have had something to with this. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew they’d want to talk to me after I’d found Stefan in the wine cave. But it was more serious than that.
I’d just been interrogated.
CHAPTER 24
“Don’t leave town.” That’s what Blaszczyk had said. But since Ryan had taken a softer position when he was playing good cop, I’d decided to take my chances. Still, when I went downstairs to meet Brody the next morning for our drive up to Prentice, I checked the street for unmarked vehicles—which wasn’t much help since they were all unmarked, so then I did an extra sweep to look for particularly nondescript sedans. I hoped the police wouldn’t be monitoring my comings and goings, but a girl can never be too sure.
Brody looked at me in surprise as I climbed in and scrunched down in the seat. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure we’re not being followed.”
“And why do you look like you’re going on a date?”
“What do you mean?”
“The makeup? That shirt. And are those new shoes?”
“Nothing wrong with a girl looking nice,” I said.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that for years,” he said with a smirk.
I stuck my tongue out at him as he put the car in gear and pulled onto the street.
“I’m just teasing you. I’m glad you like Jake.”
“Who said I like Jake?”
“You did, when you agreed to help him stage a fake wedding at his winery out of the goodness of your heart.”
“What do you mean? I’m nice!”
“I know you’re nice, but you’re also busy. Too busy to be taking on an extra-credit project—which makes me think it’s more about his devilishly handsome smile than it is your innate altruism.”
I smiled sheepishly. “Am I really that transparent?”
“I don’t know if I’d call you transparent. ‘Obvious’ might be the better word.”
While we drove, I filled him in on everything that had happened since we’d last talked. He’d only gotten the headlines along the way, but it had been a couple of days since I’d been able to fully catch him up. I started with the visit from the two detectives the night before and then skipped around from the wine cave to Babs’ calendar to my run-in with Miles.
“You need to be careful, Kelsey. Miles could be dangerous.”
“I know. At least now I do.” I hadn’t really thought of Miles as a serious threat at first, but I certainly intended to limit our future visits to public spaces in broad daylight. “But I still have to figure out what happened.”
“Why can’t you leave that to the police?” It was a logical question—or at least it would be under most circumstances. But these were not most circumstances.
“Because they think I’m a suspect!”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“They good-cop-bad-copped me!”
“That doesn’t mean they seriously think you did it. Sometimes they have to rattle some trees to see what falls out.”
I laughed. “So in this metaphor, I’m what? A coconut or something?”
“Something like that. Anyway, the cops want to find out what happened as much as you do. And talking to you—that’s just them doing their job. If they didn’t talk to you, you’d be complaining they didn’t take it seriously enough.”
“Maybe you’re right. It’s not like I think they’re putting together an arrest warrant or anything, but they’re not the only ones I’m worried about.” I thought back to Danielle’s voice mail. “People are starting to talk, and I can’t just sit back and cross my fingers that the police clear my name.”
“Okay, but please, just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise.”
“And if you snoop, be sure to bring backup.”
“Already on it.
Laurel made me promise that one yesterday.” I felt bad for worrying him—not to mention roping him into my drama. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. What’s going on with you?”
“I’ve taken up taxidermy since last we spoke.” Apparently, Brody didn’t like my not-so-subtle attempts to change the subject.
“C’mon, I’m serious!”
“Me too! I built a workshop and everything.”
I crossed my arms. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me.”
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t know that that was my dream all along.”
“Sorry, I guess I’m a bad friend.”
Brody grinned playfully. “I know, sheesh. You never listen.”
All right, if that’s the way he wanted to play it … “I’m sorry,” I said. “What have you stuffed so far?”
“I found a dead raccoon last night and it’s sitting on my mantle.”
“How’d it turn out?”
“Pretty good, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“That it’s a dead raccoon. Duh.”
And so it went until we got to Prentice.
After I checked myself in the mirror one last time, we got out of the car and walked up the stairs to the front porch. Brody knocked on the door to the tasting room, but then a loud whistle came from the vicinity of the barn. “I’m down here!” Jake called.
He greeted us at the bottom of the path and motioned toward the side of the barn. “You guys hungry? I made us some lunch.”
As Jake led us to a sunny spot beside a stream, I gave Brody an excited thumbs-up behind Jake’s back.
“I figured it was the least I could do,” Jake said. “I’m going to owe you both big-time, so this is just my first installment.”
He gestured to the blankets he’d spread on the ground, where he’d laid out what might have quite possibly been the perfect picnic spread. There was a colorful fruit salad that was mostly berries and thoughtfully devoid of filler melons; roasted figs with goat cheese and a splash of balsamic vinegar; and an assortment of sandwiches served on crusty baguettes.
After we got settled, he poured us each a glass of sparkling wine.
Jake raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to the start of something new.”