The Name of the Rosé

by Christine E. Blum

  “So, if the drugs get past the border, they’re home free?” I’d finally managed to control my gorging.

  “Not necessarily. We have lots of government workers scrutinizing and tracking small-plane activity within the US. They look for anything that stands out, like . . . continuous odd flight routes, passengers and cargo, aircraft type and pilots and owners. It’s just that the volume is so high, they have to focus on the bigger operations.”

  I thought about that for a minute and felt the weight of this impossible task. Maybe it was better just to focus on Jonas’s murder and try to clear Jimmy for that alone. But I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the two were connected.

  “Mary Ann, we can now confirm that the drug-stuffed fish found on Charlie’s plane came from Lake Managua. Have you run into any intel on Nicaraguan drug smuggling into the US?”

  “You better believe it; these guys are some of the worst. They’ve had to get very inventive on how they bring their narcotics across the border into Mexico. Food has become a popular vehicle.”

  I stopped munching for a second. “Food?”

  “They hide the drugs in tamales, bananas, pastries, chili peppers, you name it. But as the DEA catches on, they find new, inventive ways to hide the contraband. One of the more popular ways now is inside fish.”

  That got my attention.

  “There’s the story of a truckload of frozen shark carcasses trying to cross into Mexico. In this case, Marines intercepted the cargo and made the arrest. But this still goes on all the time with smaller conduits. It’s a lot easier to smuggle cases of smaller fish past inspectors at a ninety-degree checkpoint at the height of the midday sun. The stench alone puts the guards in very lenient moods.”

  “That is amazing and very helpful. I suspect some drug cartel from Nicaragua is handling the border and then delivering shipments to their reps in the US for dispersion and sale. For our purposes, we would need to track down the reps doing this out of Montgomery Airport in San Diego. Any ideas on how we can go about finding these jerks?”

  “Hmmm. Let me reach out to some of my sources in the field down there. At the very least, we should be able to shake some trees.”

  “Thanks, Mary Ann. This has been very enlightening and very fattening. I think I’ll walk home.”

  * * *

  I spent the next two days getting my house and head in order. I had a feeling the coming weeks were going to be very busy with both my work and trying to close this case and bring Jimmy home. And not long after that was Penelope and Malcolm’s wedding! I needed to make sure no dark clouds would be hanging over that joyous occasion.

  Sally and I had a subsecret, sequestered Wine Club for two on Friday afternoon, which we do on occasion when we want some time together to vent, whine, cry or just split a bottle between us. Today’s elixir was a Paso Robles Chardonnay blend called the Tooth and Nail Fragrant Snare. Perfect for spring, this chilled white reminded me of citrus and tropical flavors. As I reclined on a chaise facing the pool, I mentally transported myself to Bora Bora. Sally was on a similar chaise but looked more like she was going up a steep roller coaster.

  “How’s Jimmy holding up?” I asked her after we’d both taken a moment to sniff, slurp and gulp.

  “Not good. He gets more despondent as each day passes and he’s still in jail. Joe and I finally hired a lawyer for him. Jimmy is starting over, so he can’t afford one. We’re all meeting next week, and hopefully, she’ll be able to force the police to either put up or shut up. They still haven’t produced any new evidence on him.”

  I filled Sally in on my meeting with Mary Ann. It was tough to see my usually happy and zany friend with the light taken out of her eyes—she’s always been Ethel to my Lucy. This constant threat to her family and uncertainty had put her into an almost catatonic state.

  I hated to do it, but I had to ask. “Were you able to talk to Jimmy privately about your medicine bag and the missing vials?”

  She nodded slowly. “Just like I expected, he had no idea what I was talking about. He’d never even been in the garage. Jimmy told me that Joe kept offering for him to browse his books and grab anything he was interested in, but Jimmy admitted he’s never been much of a reader. So now I’m left with the dilemma of whether to tell the police about the missing vials. It could be the lead they need to solve this, but it might also be the final nail in Jimmy’s coffin.”

  “Maybe talk to this lawyer you’ve hired about it. She must have some insight on situations like this, and you’d be protected under attorney–client privilege.”

  “That’s using your noggin, Halsey.”

  Sally’s mood had brightened the tiniest bit.

  “Is this a private swig fest or can anyone join?” Peggy asked, slipping through my back gate.

  Bardot quickly ended her sunbathing on the floating flamingo pool toy and ran over to greet her best buddy.

  “Hello, my beautiful girl,” she said, and we all smiled back before realizing she meant Bardot.

  “Come on in. I’ll get another glass. I might as well get another bottle while I’m at it. Sally, fill Peggy in on the latest.”

  Bardot followed me into the kitchen, hoping this trip was specifically for her benefit. When she saw that wasn’t the case, she resorted to slurping up some water from her bowl and spitting it into the food side, in hopes of making a gravy from any remnants stuck on the bottom. This seemed like such an act of desperation that I relented and gave her a carrot.

  “This curse is just never going to end,” I heard Sally say when I returned.

  “How exactly did it end the last time?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember. Do you?” Peggy looked at Sally.

  “I’m not sure. I just remember one day looking out the window and seeing Danny go by on crutches and thinking that things were finally getting back to normal.”

  “That’s it!” Peggy jumped up from the chair and started doing a little dance.

  “What’s it?” Sally didn’t look amused.

  “Danny! Danny’s your answer!”

  “Peggy, maybe you’d better sit down and explain.” I could see steam coming from Sally’s ears, while Bardot thought this was a practice audition for the Rockettes and got up on her hind legs and hopped around.

  “Danny. Danny is the one you used those vials on. You must have forgotten to replace them.”

  Sally’s eyes got wide and then she got up and did a jig. Bardot reignited her routine.

  “You’re right!” Sally caught my bewildered face and sat back down.

  “Remember what we told you? When the curse started, Danny went out surfing in the big swells and broke his kneecap?”

  I nodded.

  “When he got home from the hospital, he was having problems with nausea from the anesthesia and experiencing balance issues. Peggy was worried and called me. Danny refused to go back to the hospital. That’s when I determined that a small infusion of hyoscine would relieve both of those symptoms. I’d completely forgotten!”

  “That’s a relief. You’ll sleep better tonight. And if all they have on Jimmy is a couple of guys hearing an argument with Jonas, his proximity to syringes and maybe an envelope with medicines, your lawyer should be able to get him out on bail in no time.” Peggy had given her summation and it was my turn at the podium.

  “We know the package with prescription drugs was meant to be sent to Jeb and Mary Ann’s house. The addresser had written a one instead of a seven. Although we won’t be talking about that, we’re going to have to find another way to prove Jimmy’s innocence, while protecting Jeb and Mary Ann. That aspect of the bust is now solved in our minds. We can also trust Jimmy had no access or knowledge of the drug that was found to have killed Jonas. So we know that should clear him once and for all.”

  “Praise the lord and pass the bacon!” Sally was back.

  “We just need enough evidence to make a case,” I half-whispered, hoping not to douse Sally’s ebullience.

  “Unfortuna
tely,” Peggy said, raining on our parade, “this means we still have the same thorny crimes to solve: who is smuggling heroin into our airport and who killed Jonas?”

  “Correct,” I said. “We need to turn up the heat on our investigation, and I may have an idea how.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I assigned myself the task of really understanding the Devil’s Breath deadly toxin that had killed Jonas. Augie said it was common in Colombia but hadn’t mentioned Nicaragua. Was it grown there too, this borrachero tree? What was the difference in how it was extracted and processed versus the stuff used in hospitals? I gave Bardot a bone stuffed with frozen peanut butter to keep her occupied and sat down at my computer.

  A general keyword search returned general links, nothing that was going to help me. I’m a visual person, so when in doubt, I make a schematic of the problem. For this one, I focused on all the possible origins of Devil’s Breath the killer could have had access to. Underneath, I added the names of the people I thought could have used each of the methods. When I was finished, this was the result:

  Source: Colombia

  the borrachero tree

  Method:

  Seeds are extracted, powdered and chemically

  processed to

  be turned into burandanga, which is similar to

  scopolamine.

  Possible Suspects:

  None with clear links to Colombia.

  Source: Nicaragua

  The borrachero tree is not prevalent due to rabid

  deforestation from decades of cocaine processing.

  Method:

  Smuggled from Colombia?

  Possible Suspects:

  Because fish with heroin came from Managua,

  Rusty, Chloe, an unknown dealer at Montgomery

  Airport or

  possibly the owners of the Casa Machado

  restaurant?

  And then my research brought this exercise a lot closer to home. I was hyperventilating as I finished my chart.

  Source: Local

  the angel’s trumpet tree

  A species of brugmansia, same as the borrachero

  tree

  Method:

  Same as in Colombia

  Possible Suspects:

  Rusty, Britt, love triangle with Jonas?

  Or, SODDI*

  *some other dude did it

  I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell rang. It was Peggy.

  “You’re going to need some very fine wine to thank me for what I am about to tell you,” she said.

  “That can be arranged, Peggy, and I can reciprocate with a juicy discovery of my own.”

  “You are also going to have to come up with something very special for Charlie. He did all the work.”

  “Stop with the suspense already! I’m bursting, Peggy.”

  “Okay. Charlie’s cronies had quite a bit to say about our server, Miss Chloe. You saw her; she’s just one cup size away from being a blond bombshell.”

  “Anyone can be blond.”

  “Well, this blonde has left a trail of male suitors in her wake. She seems to easily fall madly in love and just as easily kick them to the curb. Often, the affairs end with a knock-down, drag-out in that bar after happy hour.”

  “I’m disappointed but not surprised. So, she’s a man-eater who isn’t exactly a gateway to a heroin dealer.”

  “Unless her current man just happens to be from Nicaragua.”

  Peggy heard me suck in my breath and laughed.

  “His name’s Oscar Sandoval. Not sure how they met, but he’s been her steady for quite a while now.”

  “Does he also work at the restaurant? Maybe he was the guy in the Casa Machado shirt that brought the fish to Charlie’s plane.”

  “That would be a long shot. He could have gotten the shirt from somewhere, I guess, but he isn’t an employee. Some of the guys heard he owns a nightclub in the Gaslamp Quarter. They think he’s got money to throw around. Maybe that’s why Chloe has held on to him.”

  “The money could also easily be the result of drug dealing. We need to get the name of that nightclub. It might necessitate another trip south.”

  “Will do. Now that I have a name, I’ve gotten my CIA buddies to do some recon for me. I should have more in a day or so. Pretty good, huh? Now you, Halsey.”

  Was this the “other dude”? I wondered. The answers were rattling around in my brain somewhere. Maybe I should stand on my head.

  “You still there, Halsey? Quid pro quo, now.”

  “Yes, I’m here, Peggy, and I don’t know if what I have to tell you helps or hinders our investigation.”

  “It’s gotta help. You just need some fresh brain cells to ponder it.”

  “I hope so.”

  I explained to her about the chart I’d been working on. “Just by chance, I thought I’d see if this Devil’s Breath could be grown in Southern California. I’m no botanist, but there does appear to be a species of that tree that grows in abundance all around us. It’s called Angel’s Trumpet.”

  “You mean those large bushes with the upside-down, elongated white lilies?”

  I laughed. “Those are the ones.”

  “We keep turning over that same rock. Are the drugs and Jonas’s murder separate crimes or not?”

  “I know, Peggy, and there’s only one person who can tell us that.”

  “This Oscar guy? I’m guessing he’s not going to be effusive with confessions.”

  “No: Jonas.”

  “Apart from the obvious, Halsey, how do you propose we do that?”

  “We need to walk a day in Jonas’s shoes.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we have to see where he worked, where he lived, who he hung out with, what he ate, the whole nine.”

  “You’re right, but how do we get access to all that?”

  “We use our two secret weapons: Marisol and Jack.”

  If I can convince Jack to come over to the dark, detective side . . .

  * * *

  The big event of the next day should have been viewing the rare solar eclipse. The Wine Club had been preparing for weeks. We’d gotten the special viewing glasses, argued and finally agreed on a menu and set the location. The only teeny, tiny snag was that the best time for us to see this spectacle was at ten in the morning. This limited our options. Somewhat.

  We gathered on the bleachers at the Little League field on top of the hill. I noted that everyone was sporting some sort of solar-themed article of clothing; Aimee chose to paint yellow sunbursts on her rosy cheeks. The fare was simple: mimosas, blueberry muffins, fruit salad, and Peggy brought PB&J sammies. I left Bardot at home. I couldn’t find any doggles, and there would be no stopping her from staring up in the direction we were looking. Because it was still morning, she didn’t seem to mind a bit and unmade my bed and crawled back in.

  The guys were invited, and for once, Jack could break free at that hour and join in the fun. We’d declared a truce, and as I always say, There’s nothing like an eclipse to bring out your romantic side. Or was that an éclair?

  “Halsey, I want to thank you,” Jeb said, pulling me aside. He was a big guy but gentle. He kind of reminded me of Big Daddy in the Charmin commercials.

  “For what, Jeb?”

  “Mary Ann told me about your visit to her office and your conversation. My hide is already stinging from my stupidity in how I got those pills. Believe me, Mary Ann will never let me forget it. But if the police had been involved, it would have put pain and stress on her, which would have broken my heart. I’ve been working with the mission for years, and since retiring, I had some time freed up and wanted to really make a difference.”

  “Which is exactly what Mary Ann said, and even if she hadn’t, I had no intention of interfering. She knew what you were up to and I knew you’d both work things out so you could continue doing your charitable work. Plus, that’s an awfully large heart to break. We’d be picking up the pieces for weeks.”

  Jeb let
out a roar of a laugh.

  “Cheers, everyone,” Peggy toasted as the gang settled down on the bleachers.

  We took a group selfie with our crazy glasses on.

  “Take it again; you were missing someone,” said a voice from under the bleachers.

  “Who said that?” Aimee asked.

  “Me.”

  Suddenly, a head popped up in the gap between two tiers. It was Marisol, and she was wearing her safety glasses, as well as the wraparound dark specs she got after having cataract surgery. I wondered how she’d been able to see anything. She must have used her sense of smell to find her way up here.

  “Marisol, come around the front and I’ll help you up.” Jack was ever the gentleman.

  Marisol was still trying for the direct, vertical ascent, and we all ended up pulling her through the space between the seats.

  “Oh, orange juice,” she said, grabbing a flute and taking a big gulp.

  She followed it with a loud hiccup. I figured Jack would be carrying her home. She had no idea the juice in her glass wasn’t all juice. But she was enjoying herself, probably thinking she was fulfilling one of her mayorly duties of mingling with her constituents on such a momentous occasion. Sometimes, rare times, Marisol just makes me smile.

  “Where’s Sally?” I asked, noticing she hadn’t yet graced our presence.

  “I saw her earlier when I went to get the paper,” Aimee told us. “She and Joe were just pulling out of their driveway. I waved, but they seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t stop to talk.”

  “I’ll bet they were going to meet with the lawyer they’ve hired to clear Jimmy. I certainly hope this finally closes that chapter on him.” I looked up to the heavens for support and noticed the eclipse had started. Meanwhile, Marisol had a sudden insatiable case of the munchies. She’d pretty much cleaned Peggy out of her sandwiches. She was now busy picking the bananas out of the fruit salad and eating them.

  “Sorry we’re late, but look what the cat dragged along.” Sally grinned and hugged Jimmy.