Fashion, Rosé & Foul Play (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 6)

by Gemma Halliday

  Along with the shadowed figure slipping out my front door.

  My heart leapt up into my throat at the sight, my fears confirmed. Someone had been in my home. The person was dressed all in black, wearing a puffy black jacket that obscured any shape. Male, female, thin, thick, alien, human—it was anybody's guess.

  "Hey!" I shouted, catching up to them.

  The figure turned their head my way. Unfortunately the black ski mask covering their face prevented me from seeing any features. Not that I had more than a second to look before they sprang into action. The figure charged at me full force, plowing into me before bolting toward the tree line.

  I didn't have time to react. One second I was trying to see past their mask and the next the full weight of their body was shoving me backward, slamming me onto the hard packed earth beside the pathway.

  My teeth clashed together, and I bit my tongue, the force stunning me just long enough for the person in black to run past me, up into the thicket of oak trees to our left and effectively disappearing from sight by the time I got my bearings again.

  "Emmy!" Ava came pounding down the pathway, her blonde hair flying behind her as a look of concern settled on her features. She stopped when she saw me, crouching down. "Are you okay?"

  I nodded, tasting blood in my mouth. "I 'ink oh."

  The concern on her face intensified. "You don't sound okay."

  I sucked in a breath, ignoring the pain in my mouth. "I bit my tongue," I enunciated very slowly.

  Ava's eyes cut to the grove of oak trees. "Well, it could have been a lot worse. Why didn't you wait for me?"

  She was right. It had been foolish to run after an intruder alone. I blamed the wine and the fact that my home sometimes felt like the only connection I had left to my family. The thought of someone violating that…

  "Oh, honey," Ava said.

  I realized I was crying.

  "They came running out of my front door." I pointed lamely, trying to sniff back the tears.

  Ava helped me up, and together we walked the couple of paces to my door, still standing slightly ajar. I used the corner of my T-shirt to cover my hand, careful not to obscure any prints the intruder might have left, and pushed it open.

  And had to stifle a new wave of tears at the sight that greeted me.

  While I couldn't pretend that the contents of my cottage were anywhere in the priceless range, they were mine. And at current they were in shambles. Coffee table upended, lamps on the floor—one Tiffany style one shattered against the back wall, which must have been the breaking glass we'd heard. My sofa cushions were scattered to the four corners of the room, and even my poor, innocent Mr. Coffee hadn't escaped the intruder's hand, lying on the kitchen floor amidst a pile of coffee grounds. I wasn't sure what the person in black's objective had been, but chaos was the result.

  "Is anything missing?" Ava asked, holding my hand tightly. For which I was eternally grateful.

  I sniffed, trying to suck up some strength and focus not on the extreme sense of vulnerability washing over me, but instead on the logical task of inventorying my possessions.

  "I-I don't know. It's hard to tell."

  "TV is still here," she noted, gesturing to the item, which was lying on its side. "So is your laptop."

  She was right. It sat on top of an antique writing desk shoved into the corner under the stairs. Apparently the intruder either hadn't seen it or had been interrupted before they'd gotten a chance to nab it.

  "I don't really see anything missing," I admitted.

  "Maybe we caught him before he could take anything?" Ava said hopefully. Then she added, "Was it a he?"

  My breath quivered as I let out a sigh. "Honestly? I really don't know. They were wearing a mask. And baggy clothes."

  Her hope morphed into a sympathetic smile. "Maybe we should call Grant."

  As much as I hated calling on him to come rescue me for a second time that day, she was right. This was way out of our league.

  We backtracked to the terrace, where we'd both left our phones along with our abandoned food, and Ava poured more wine with a shaky hand as I dialed Grant's number. This time he picked up on the first ring.

  "You okay?"

  One of these days I wanted our relationship to be in a place where he didn't feel compelled to ask me that kind of question. And, I also hoped that one day my answer wouldn't be, "No, not really."

  "What's wrong?" His voice immediately took on an edge.

  "I, uh, had a break-in."

  "A what?"

  I gave a nervous laugh. "I know, right? What are the chances of a car accident and a break-in on the same day?"

  "Where are you?" he asked, not even attempting a laugh at my lame humor.

  "Oak Valley."

  "Are you alone?" I could hear keys jingling on the other end.

  "No, Ava's here. The intruder ran away."

  "Don't move. Don't touch anything. I'll be right there."

  "Okay, but I don't know what the guy was after, because it seems like—" I stopped abruptly, realizing I was talking to no one. I looked up at Ava. "I think he hung up on me."

  Ava shrugged. "You are kind of a handful." She sent me a grin.

  Normally I loved that her brand of humor could lighten any mood, but there was a little too much truth in that statement for my comfort.

  "I am, aren't I," I said, sinking back down into my wicker chair.

  "Oh, honey," Ava said for the second time that night. She walked around the table and put her arms around me from behind. "And we love you that way," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  "Thanks," I said. Though my voice came out more like Eeyore than my usual self.

  "Don't worry. Grant will be here soon, and he'll know what to do."

  I nodded, grabbing my wineglass again. Only, the smooth, aged Sirah seemed to stick in my throat with the thought that even Oak Valley wasn't safe anymore.

  Both of us were feeling antsy and neither of us had an appetite anymore, so we took our glasses to the front of the winery, waiting in silence on the steps for help to arrive. It was only a few minutes before we heard the sound of Grant's car coming up the drive and the black SUV pulled into the gravel lot with a crunch of earth beneath his big tires.

  Ava patted my knee and sent me a smile.

  I tried to return it, but I was pretty sure it didn't reach my eyes. I wondered if it was normal to feel numb after enduring this kind of violation. Maybe by not feeling anything, it would magically disappear. It was either numbness or anger. And, honestly, I worried anger would be entirely too exhausting.

  I stood as Grant approached. It only took him a second to close the distance between us, pulling me tightly into his arms. For just a moment, I let myself exist in the warmth of his body, the heat radiating from his chest melting away some of the numbness. I'm not sure how long we stood like that, but eventually I heard Ava awkwardly clear her throat beside us.

  I reluctantly pulled back. "Thanks," I managed, looking up into his dark eyes.

  He nodded before his gaze cut to Ava and he took a small step back from me. "Can you tell me what happened?"

  I relayed the events of the evening, Ava jumping in now and then to add her perspective on them. I tried to give him as much detail as I could, which, I realized as I got to the end, was precious little.

  "And you didn't see this person's face?" Grant clarified.

  I shook my head. "It all happened so fast."

  "No idea if they were male or female?"

  "They were wearing a puffy jacket," Ava offered. "I saw that much as they took off into the trees."

  "Which way did they go?" Grant asked, his eyes scanning the grounds as if the foliage could bear witness.

  "Around the back," I said. "Toward the north field."

  He nodded. "Probably long gone by now."

  I wasn't sure if he was saying that for my benefit or if he'd been contemplating going after them.

  "Once they hit the trees, it would have been
hard to follow them," Ava reasoned.

  Grant's gaze went to her. "And a terrible idea," he said hotly.

  Ava crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't say we tried to follow them—I just said it wouldn't have been easy."

  "I know." Grant's features softened some. "You did the right thing calling me." He paused. "Let's go take a look," he said, leading the way to the cottage.

  Ava and I followed, though the closer I got, the more I wished for another dose of that numbness to cover the anxiety I felt building in my stomach. I had to force my foot over the threshold again, gingerly stepping into the living room so as not to disturb anything.

  "Anything taken that you can tell?" Grant asked.

  I shook my head. "No. I mean, it's not like there's much of value to take."

  "Except your peace of mind," Ava said, running a hand up and down my back.

  Well, yeah, there was that.

  But I hated feeling like a victim. I'd already allowed myself to feel that way long enough that day. "Do you think maybe this wasn't a robbery but a warning?" I asked.

  "A warning?" Grant asked slowly.

  "To back off Gia's murder," Ava said.

  I nodded. Then turned to Grant. "It could have been Stalker Guy. He already tried to run us off the road today. Maybe he came back here tonight to scare me or…"

  "Or let's not let our imaginations get the better of us," Grant said, shooting me a hard look. Though I could tell it wasn't me his anger was directed at.

  "Any leads on the car that rammed us?" Ava asked. "Or its owner?"

  Grant sighed and shook his head. "We're working on it."

  "I take it that means no?" I asked, hating the hint of fear in my voice.

  "No," he confirmed. "We've pulled up traffic cam footage from the area near the attack, but there are a lot of gray sedans out there. Without more to go on, it could be a while before we weed through it all."

  I was pretty sure that my disappointment at that statement was clear on my face, as Grant added, "Don't worry. We'll find him." His eyes roved my cottage. "And whoever did this too."

  I bit my lower lip and nodded, not trusting my voice.

  "I'm going to call CSI. It's possible your intruder left something behind."

  "Like fingerprints?" Ava asked.

  Grant nodded before turning to me. "They'll probably want to secure the premises for the night."

  Meaning my home was now a crime scene.

  I felt hot tears build up behind my eyelids.

  "Emmy can come stay with me tonight," Ava offered quickly, her hand at my back again.

  I sent her a grateful smile.

  Grant followed me as I carefully picked my way up the stairs to pack a quick overnight bag. Luckily, it seemed we'd interrupted the intruder before they'd gotten to the second floor, as my bedroom looked exactly the way I'd left it—even if the state wasn't as tidy as I might have liked it to be for Grant's eyes. I kicked my camera bag under the bed and quickly scooped the pile of clothes on my bed into the hamper. If he noticed, he was polite enough not to say anything.

  I threw a few necessities into a large tote bag, and we joined Ava back downstairs.

  By the time Ava and I arrived at her loft apartment above Silver Girl, I was beyond exhausted and fell gratefully onto her futon in the small living room with a pile of pillows and spare blankets she'd dug out of her linen closet.

  As quickly as sleep took me, it was a tentative hold, as I tossed and turned most of the night. Not only because the futon was considerably more lumpy than my own soft bed, but also due to dreams of a gray sedan barreling toward me and an intruder in black playing a sinister game of peek-a-boo with me from behind my favorite oak tree. All overlaid with the sickening image of Gia's sightless brown eyes staring up at me, asking over and over again the simple word, "Why?"

  By the time I finally awoke, I felt almost more tired than I had when I'd fallen asleep. Not to mention every muscle in my body was stiff and sore from the impact of Stalker Guy's sedan. I carefully stretched each limb, testing it out before swinging my legs over the side of the futon and padding into the kitchen in search of caffeine.

  I found a Post-it stuck to the fridge, telling me that Ava was next door at the Half Calf—a cute little coffee shop whose logo featured a cow drinking a latte on the moon. I knew they made the best caramel flan lattes on the planet, which prompted me to quickly throw on a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt and meet her there.

  Though, as I pushed through the glass doors, I realized she was not alone. Ava was dressed in a gauzy floral printed jumper paired with Grecian sandals and was seated at a table near the back next to David Allen—in his usually head to toe black, broody artist uniform.

  I paused, self-consciously smoothing my hair down before quickly ordering my latte and joining them.

  "Hey there, sleepyhead," David said as I pulled a third chair up to their table.

  "It's only nine," I told him. Maybe slightly more irritably than normal. "What dragged you out of bed before noon?"

  If he heard the sarcasm in my voice, he chose to ignore it. "I was worried about you. I heard about the little break-in at the winery last night."

  "You heard?" I asked, though I managed to eradicate the sarcasm this time. It was nice to be worried about. Even if that worry was coming from David's camp.

  "I called him," Ava admitted.

  I sipped my drink, trying not to read too much into the fact that Ava and David were on a calling-each-other-first-thing-in-the-morning basis.

  "You okay?" David asked, his dark eyebrows drawing down in genuine concern.

  I nodded. "Thanks. I'm fine."

  He tilted his head, eyes going to my left temple. "You don't look fine. That's a nasty bruise."

  My hand automatically shot up to the lump I'd sustained in the car wreck. Which apparently was bruising now too. "It looks worse than it is," I mumbled, pulling my hair forward to cover it.

  "What happened last night?" he pressed. "Ava said you caught some guy coming out of your cottage?"

  "Or girl," I said. "I honestly didn't get a good look at them." I quickly filled him in on the events of the previous evening, ending with Grant calling CSI and me displaced to Ava's sofa.

  "I don't suppose you've heard from Grant yet?" Ava asked when I was done.

  I shook my head. I'd checked my phone while standing in the latte line. No texts or voice mails. Though, considering how things had been between us lately, I wasn't totally certain I'd be his first call if he had found something.

  "But you think it was Gia's stalker in your cottage?" David asked, looking from me to Ava. "The same one who ran you off the road yesterday too?"

  I sipped from my cup. "I think it's a possibility."

  "Why?" he asked. "What do you think he was after?"

  I shrugged. "Need more coffee before I can answer that one."

  "Well, maybe it's not so much something he was after, but something he was delivering. Like a warning," Ava said ominously.

  That thought caused David's frown to deepen. I had to admit, I felt much the same way.

  "I had that thought last night, too," I said. "But I don't know why he'd warn us twice. I mean, it's not like we did anything after he ran us off the road. The first warning worked."

  Ava pursed her lips. "Maybe he's overly paranoid? Maybe he knows we're on to him."

  "But we're not!" I protested. "I mean, yeah, maybe he was stalking Gia, but that's all we know. I don't even know the guy's name!"

  "But he doesn't know that," Ava pointed out.

  David sipped his coffee and sat back in his chair. "So, your theory with this guy is that he stalked Gia, killed her in some crazed fan moment, and now he's going after Emmy?"

  Ava sighed deeply. "I don't know. It seems the more we find out about Gia, the less anything makes any sense." She set her paper cup down on the table in front of her. "I mean, all the people she worked with had a reason to want her dead, no one has a solid alibi, and everyone seems t
o be hiding something."

  She was right. The more we found out about Gia, the less it narrowed down who could have killed her. And who had possession of the emerald now.

  We all sipped in silence, contemplating that thought, until my phone trilled from my purse. I immediately pulled it out, hoping it was Grant with some news.

  Only, a number I didn't recognize came up on the screen instead.

  "Hello?" I asked tentatively.

  "Is this Emmy Oak?"

  "Yes," I hedged, expecting him to try to sell me car insurance or Canadian pharmaceuticals next.

  "This is Joe Trask."

  "Trask?" I said. Ava perked up in her seat, leaning closer as I put the phone on speaker.

  "Yeah, listen, I made some calls to some associates on you two's behalf."

  "And?" I prompted. "Has someone seen the emerald?"

  "No."

  I felt my heart sink. "Oh."

  "But," he went on, "I did talk to a friend of mine who owns a shop in Oakland. Al."

  "Did someone try to sell Al the emerald?"

  "No. I told you, no emerald."

  I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so what did this Al say?"

  "Well, I told Al about you and your friend and the emerald. I also happened to mention you was asking about heart-shaped rubies. And Al said someone did come into the shop trying to sell a pair like that recently."

  My eyes cut to Ava's. "When was this?"

  "A few weeks ago. Now, I dunno if they are the same ones you was looking for, but I figured you might wanna talk to Al."

  He figured right. "How can I get ahold of your friend?" I asked. I tried to contain my enthusiasm, but I'm certain I didn't succeed. There was a reason I didn't play poker.

  "Al runs the Cash Exchange in Oakland. I'll text you the address."

  "Thanks," I told him.

  "Uh, but you know, if anything comes of this, don't forget I'm entitled to that finder's fee. Eleven percent."

  David raised a silent eyebrow at Ava, but she just shrugged.

  "Sure. Yep. Eleven percent," I told him, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back. As much as I hoped this lead panned out, I also hoped it didn't come to ponying up a finder's fee. Because without that emerald, Ava might be forced to make a hard decision between seventy-five hundred dollars and her kneecaps.