D is for Drunk

by Rebecca Cantrell

  “Like you’re one to talk.”

  CHAPTER 19

  He banked the drone and brought it back toward the Befort’s Vineyard.

  “You’re not going down the rows,” she complained.

  “Doing a quick reconnoiter.” He was totally focused on his joysticks. “Don’t want to get caught.”

  There was more action over at the Befort’s house than the Pankhurst’s. Annabelle cantered up to the stable on her glossy black horse. When she reached the stable, she leaped off Percy like a trick rider. She put her hand in front of her nose. The horse reared up for no reason Sofia could see, then settled back down. Maybe it was one of those horses that spooked at everything. That seemed like the high-maintenance horse that Annabelle would want.

  Marcel was unloading brown paper bags from his SUV, and he gestured for Annabelle to come to help him. She shook her head and took the horse into the stable.

  Aidan flew over the grape vines. Again, she saw no suspicious traces of green. Everything looked pretty much the same as over at the Grigoryan’s. Rows of green grapevines, a small green lawn around the house, and a swimming pool gleaming in the early evening sun. The grapes weren’t as meticulously tended as the Grigoryan’s, but they were definitely well taken care of.

  “I like using the drone instead of walking around,” she said. “But we haven’t seen anything that will help us.”

  “Patience,” he said. “Let’s get a little closer.”

  He dropped down lower, and she worried Marcel might see the drone. Annabelle was still in the stables.

  “Who puts trees there?” He slammed the joystick hard to the side, and the drone zoomed past a stand of pine trees.

  “They’re scenic,” she said. “And they shade the house.”

  The battery indicator beeped, and Aidan directed the drone high in the air and back toward them. A black SUV pulled into the Befort’s driveway, followed by a white one. A man in a suit and a woman in a bright red dress got out of the black SUV.

  “Looks like the party’s starting,” she said.

  “We should go.” The drone rose a little higher. “See if we can see anything more on the ground. Or learn anything about the neighbor feud. And bug their living room.”

  “That’s illegal,” Sofia said.

  “No one can trace it back to us.”

  “And this changes the legality of it?”

  “It changes the level of concern you should have about the legality of it.”

  “If we’re going to the party, I need to go home and change,” Sofia said.

  “You look fine.”

  “You haven’t even looked at me. I could probably be naked and you wouldn’t have noticed.”

  He looked up from his phone screen. “You’re not naked. And I would so have noticed. We don’t have time for you to go home and change. You look fine.”

  “It’s thirteen minutes from here. Ten if I drive. If it’s ten minutes there, ten minutes back, and I get changed and ready to go in ten minutes, we’re back in a half hour. Which isn’t that late.”

  “We have to get the drone back here. That’s a couple of minutes, too,” Aidan said.

  The image on screen lurched to a stop and stuck at a crazy angle. Aidan swore. Brendan would not have approved.

  “Is there a problem with the app?” she asked.

  “You distracted me,” he said.

  “And that broke the app?” She wasn’t taking the blame.

  “The drone hit something.”

  “You crashed it?” She looked at the screen more closely. “Looks like it’s in a tree. Like Charlie Brown’s kite.”

  He fiddled with the controls, swearing all the while. Brendan would have had a fit if he’d heard.

  “Now we have time to go get changed for the party,” she said.

  “Give me a second. Stop distracting me.”

  “It’s not my fault you smacked into a drone-eating tree.” She already had his keys because she’d been using the remote to open the trunk to get batteries, so she didn’t bother to argue anymore, just walked over the driver’s seat and started the car.

  She rolled down the window and yelled. “You don’t have to come. I can get you on the way back!”

  He hurled himself into the car, and she took off.

  “I’m too young to die,” he said. “I still have a pile of Tinder women on my bucket list.”

  “Poor Tinder women.” Tinder was a dating app where the user would swipe right to say he was interested, left to say he wasn’t. So far as she had seen, Aidan never swiped right. But even if he did, both parties had to swipe right to hook them up. “All both of them.”

  “I’m currently texting with forty-seven women on Tinder,” Aidan said. “Every one of them is smoking hot.”

  “Forty-seven?” She accelerated into the curve. The Lemon Drop was kinda epic at turns. “How can you keep up with all that?”

  “I’m not a moron,” he said. “I know guys who are talking to a hundred chicks at once.”

  “That sounds exhausting. Why not meet one instead of talking to forty-seven?” She was making good progress. Without traffic, she would totally nail this.

  “Face to face is the worst. If it goes bad, it goes really bad.”

  “Who’s your next date with?”

  He looked out the window for a long time.

  “Come on,” she said. “I won’t tell.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is she a supermodel who is also a billionaire crime fighter?” That was probably on his checklist somewhere.

  He looked straight ahead.

  “A martial arts cage fighter who volunteers with kittens on the weekends?”

  Still nothing.

  “A prostitute with a heart of gold?”

  “It’s Taylor,” he blurted out.

  She managed to stop herself from laughing after only a minute, but it wasn’t easy. “From the Marmalade Cafe?”

  “Yes.” A short quick admission of defeat. She liked it.

  “So, I was right about the chemistry?” No point in not rubbing it in a little.

  “Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

  “You went with my hunch?” She felt pretty proud of herself.

  “I checked her out online, of course, found her profile at a few dating sites.” He was looking out the window again, probably thinking of jumping out of the car.

  “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  She wasn’t giving up so easily. “But you’re going out with her, so...”

  “So she passed all my tests. She’s compatible online. She’s a good fit.”

  Sofia laughed and turned onto the 1. Ocean on one side, mountains on the other. She loved that about Malibu. “I told you so.”

  “But all you had was a number on a napkin.”

  That about summed it up, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “And my intuition. And your clear chemistry.”

  “I don’t see how that matters.”

  That was the last thing he said on the whole ride home. Jaxon hadn’t texted her back either, not even after the twenty-five minute waiting period Aidan had suggested. What the hell was wrong with men?

  CHAPTER 20

  Sofia was glad she’d changed. Everyone here was in designer everything, from the shoes to the dresses. She’d chosen a summery red dress that showed a lot of skin. Aidan had done a double take when he saw her in it. He’d managed to keep his fat mouth shut, but he’d combed his hair and hauled a Zegna jacket out of the Porsche’s trunk. He must be getting paid more than she was at the agency.

  “I’m going to check the water meter,” he said. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  She let him open the Porsche door for her and climbed out slowly, as if she were arriving at a film premiere. A couple of heads turned their way, even though she and the car were two small elements in a crowded party full of men and women with designer clothes and fast cars.

  “Are you vamping for
the cameras?” Aidan said under his breath. “Because I don’t see any cameras.”

  “This is a performance.” She put her hand on his arm and put on a confident and sexy smile. “We’re Young Couple Who Likes Wine. We want to have fun and meet the neighbors.”

  Aidan leaned in toward her, then backed off. He closed the car door as if it were made of glass. “Remember to sip, not chug.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” She was going to play her part in this, even if he went off script.

  Aidan snorted. “I’ll find you later.”

  She wandered slowly over to the stage. The Beforts had hired a French heavy metal band. She couldn’t understand what they were singing, but they were loud. They were called Seau Noir, which her phone translated as ‘black bucket.’ Maybe they’d sound better with a bucket over her head. At least it would cut down on the noise.

  About twenty people milled around in front of the stage. A few swayed in time to the music, but no one was dancing. It was still too early, and everyone out here was still too sober. The party must be inside.

  She nodded once to the lead singer, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she arrived, and he dipped his guitar. She might need to talk to him later. He probably saw everything from the stage.

  In the meantime, she decided to go inside where it might be quieter, and she could eavesdrop or strike up a conversation.

  “Keys?” asked a man in a bright purple jacket who held a giant glass fishbowl full of keys.

  She looked back outside to see if someone was valeting the cars, but nobody was.

  “I need your keys,” he said.

  “My.” She paused, not sure what to say. She and Aidan had been pretending to be a couple when they got invited to this party, so she decided to go with that, even if it felt weird. “Boyfriend has the keys.”

  “Proceed,” Mr. Purple said.

  Another couple came in behind her, and they handed him their keys. He put them in the fishbowl with the others. That was when she got it.

  Aidan was going to be horrified.

  As if he sensed what she was thinking, Aidan came right through the door.

  “Keys?” said Mr. Purple.

  Aidan handed them right over, but Sofia intercepted them, twirled them around her index finger and leaned forward so Mr. Purple’s eyes were on her cleavage. Now that he wasn’t looking at the keys, she dangled her keys into the bowl. She let her keys clink against the other keys in the bowl, then palmed Aidan’s keys and pulled her hand out.

  “What was that about?” Aidan asked as they left Mr. Purple behind and entered the party.

  She slipped the keys into her purse without letting Aidan see what she was doing. No point in missing a chance to make him squirm. “This is a key party.”

  “No, it’s not,” Aidan said. “Annabelle talked to me about it before you upset Marcel with your celebrity wiles. It’s a cheese party.” He pointed to a giant tray of cheese she could smell from across the room. “See? The keys are for the valet, probably to move the cars.”

  “Did you see a valet?” He was pretty observant. He wouldn’t overlook something like that.

  “I—well—not exactly. But I figure he’s off parking another car.”

  “The keys go into the bowl. The women draw them out, and they have to sleep with the man who belongs to the keys.”

  Aidan turned scarlet. “It’s not.”

  Another couple came in, dropped their keys into the bowl, then stirred it around to look at the keys already in there.

  “We need to get those keys back,” he said.

  She moved so he was standing right in front of the cheese plate. “Let me get a picture of you with the cheeses. It’s your first cheese party, after all.”

  He looked around the room, eyes a little wide. “You’ve done this before?”

  “Of course not. But I’ve heard of them. They were supposedly big in the seventies.”

  “That was a long time ago!”

  “So, they’re retro.” She grabbed a glass of wine off a passing tray. “Let’s find out what we need to know before the keys start coming back out of that bowl.”

  Aidan reached his hand under the table, and she knew he was leaving a bug there. She positioned herself next to him to give him cover, and sipped her wine.

  Annabelle came over. She’d traded her elegant black dress for a tight-fitting burgundy one. It looked fantastic on her. “I’m so sorry for Marcel’s little outburst. It’s wonderful you came tonight. I love your dress.”

  “Thank you,” Sofia said automatically.

  “This isn’t quite what we expected,” said Aidan.

  “But the cheese looks delicious,” Sofia interrupted him. “Which one would you recommend we start with?”

  “I love the Morbier.” Annabelle spread the cheese on a cracker and handed it to Sofia. Their fingertips brushed. “It is a perfect cheese for a light white wine. You can taste that, I think? You are a natural with wines.”

  Sofia knew that was untrue, but she admired the salesmanship. Annabelle wasn’t going to stop trying to sell her on wine.

  “Why does it have a line down the middle?” Aidan asked.

  “It’s made from the last day’s milk, and the first. The last milk curd is placed into the mold and then dusted with ash. The first morning curd is placed atop. Then it’s aged for forty-five days or more. Try it.”

  Sofia took a bite. It didn’t taste as bad as it smelled, luckily. It was rich and creamy, with a bitter aftertaste. “Yummy!”

  Talking about a different kind of cheese, Annabelle spread another cracker for Sofia. Aidan looked over her head at the fishbowl full of keys. He looked as if he wanted to sprint for the door. Sofia took his hand, and he jumped. He was no good at playing Young Couple Interested in Wine.

  “Have you been throwing these parties for a long time?” Sofia asked.

  “A little more than one year.” Annabelle laughed. “They get bigger every month. At first it was just us and a few neighbors.”

  Sofia squeezed Aidan’s hand. “Like the people from that other vineyard.”

  She pointed vaguely in the direction of the Grigoryans’ house.

  “They, too, but they were not right for this kind of lifestyle. The woman, she was ready, but the man was too attached. He is a little pig of a man to be so attached to his fat little wife.” Annabelle took a long sip of wine, and Sofia realized Annabelle was already a bit tipsy.

  “I imagine a lot of folks aren’t ready for this kind of thing,” said Aidan.

  “You will be surprised,” she said. “Variety keeps things spicy. We French love spicy wines, spicy cheese, and spicy sex.”

  For someone who spent so much time texting with women, Aidan was sure easy to embarrass.

  “And a vineyard is the perfect place for all of them,” Annabelle said. “If a woman is no longer interested in earning her living with her looks, a vineyard is a godsend.”

  She looked at Sofia meaningfully, but Sofia was still trying to decide if she was being insulted or not.

  Another familiar face appeared at the front door: Rick Pankhurst. He’d changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a clean shirt, but he stood out in the room full of formalwear. Not in a bad way, either. Maybe she was going through a cowboy phase, like Aidan had said.

  Next to him was a curvy blonde wearing a brown dress that looked like it was made out of suede. Her purse had buckskin fringe on it. She was taking this retro thing pretty seriously.

  Pankhurst had taken his keys out of his pocket and held the in his hand. A small silver object glinted in the light. Sofia was pretty sure it was a whistle.

  Sofia tugged Aidan around with his back to Pankhurst, then stepped behind him to use him as a shield.

  “You must excuse.” Annabelle downed the rest of her wine and tottered off to the front door.

  “Who’s behind me?” Aidan asked.

  She let her hair fall so it covered the side of her face. “Pankhurst. Probably best if he doesn’t see
us.”

  She peeped around Aidan to watch Annabelle. She walked straight up to Pankhurst, took the keys off his finger, pretended to blow the whistle, and led him to the hall.

  “What’re they doing?” Aidan asked.

  “She took his keys, and they went upstairs.”

  “That’s cheating,” said Aidan. “Aren’t we supposed to choose randomly from the bowl?”

  “So you’re saying you want Annabelle to choose your keys?” She remembered the keys in her own purse, and decided she couldn’t fault Annabelle for cheating.

  “I don’t want anyone to choose my keys. I’ve checked the water meter. It matches. Let’s figure out how to get down the damn drone and go home.”

  “Hi!” The woman in the fawn-brown dress said. “I just got here.”

  “Sofia.” She stuck out her hand. “And this is Aidan.”

  She took Aidan’s hand and held on without shaking it. “My name’s Bambi, like the deer.”

  “Have you been to a lot of these parties?” Sofia asked.

  Aidan pulled his hand free.

  “This is my first.” Bambi’s breasts jiggled when she turned to Sofia. Huge, and probably not real. “But Rick briefed me on what to expect. He said besides the sex stuff there are usually good free drugs here.”

  Cop Aidan started to come out. “Exactly where and what kind?”

  “I think you’re supposed to wander around, find what suits your mood.” Bambi finally let go of his hand. “They have a supper club, too, that’s more straight-laced, if that’s your thing. I think next week they’re having ortolans, or at least that’s what Rick told me.”

  Sofia had no idea what those were. Some kind of new drug, or maybe cheese?

  “I love your manicure,” Sofia said. Bambi’s nails were a sight to behold. They were painted brown, to match her dress, except for the thumbnail. Someone had painted a woodland scene on it, including a doe and a tree.

  “Nails and Whimsy,” Bambi said. “In Malibu Country Mart.”

  Sofia had seen their sign. It was purple and full of swirls and curlicues. “I know that place.”

  Aidan yawned, which was rude, even if he was probably bored beyond endurance. But this was the best way to get information—talking and listening. Or at least so far as Sofia could see.