A Not So Rosy Vintage, page 8
I glared at Juniper, and she giggled.
“Come on,” she said. “There’s no need to be so serious.”
Stretching my arms and back, I said, “I’m the only one who’s working. I have every right to be serious.”
Juniper shook her head like I was being a pill. Then she bit her lip. “Actually, I was wondering if you could…”
I raised an eyebrow. Juniper was in no position to be asking for favors.
She looked to the sky before finally saying, “I’d like you to film me.”
Oh. Weird. Not what I expected.
“Normally Jude films when we’re on trips, but he had this work thing, and it’s not easy to hold a phone and cut grapes at the same time.”
“Fine,” I said just as Juniper was opening her mouth to say more.
She nodded and, clearly worried I’d change my mind, handed me her phone and got to work.
There’s a slight chance I forgot to hit record the first time and let Juniper monologue while she worked for a while before I caught my mistake…What can I say? These things happen.
When Juniper wrapped up her streaming, I’d assumed she’d wander away with Chouzie. Instead, she stayed and continued casually grape picking around me.
“Have you talked to Britt?” Juniper asked as we worked.
I shrugged, not sure what she was referencing.
“About Christmas. Who knows when Mom and Dad will be back in the States, and I don’t see you flying to Australia anytime soon.”
Me, go to Australia? Definitely not. I’d studied abroad in Germany for a semester, and while I don’t regret doing it, the experience showed just how bad I am with drastic time changes and jet lag.
“Did you ask?” Juniper asked.
“I haven’t talked to Britt about my Christmas plans.”
“Will you?”
I frowned. Britt’s Mom didn’t like me. And that was before her only daughter moved from Oregon to Washington to be near me. How would Mrs. Asato react if I stole Britt for Christmas?
“Hey.” Juniper moved to stand toe to toe with me and stared straight up at my sunglasses. “It doesn’t hurt to ask. You’ve met her family. This would give her a chance to get to know yours. Besides,” Juniper said, beginning to walk away, “Casey will bring Harper and Baxter. You’ll get to see how much Britt likes kids.”
Kids?
Before I got a chance to process Juniper’s kids comment, she stirred the pot even more. “Did you and Tasha ever talk about kids?”
Tasha? Kids?
“No! We weren’t that serious.”
Juniper huffed out a breath. “I meant because she was a social worker at a children’s hospital.”
Oh. My bad.
Juniper began tapping on her phone. “According to her Instagram, she’s been there for the last three years.”
Hadn’t she wanted to be a psychologist?
I shook my head. “I can’t remember her saying anything about kids or becoming a social worker.” While it was never a job she’d talked about, it was easy to imagine her being great at it.
Tasha’s death was bringing up long-forgotten memories. She was one of the few people who made sure I had fun. Once she’d convinced me we should sing an Elton John duet. We were decent…until we reached the harmony, and it sounded so bad she’d collapsed laughing onstage.
Tasha had dumped me because I was too closed off. Had she found someone else who was better for her? Did she enjoy working at the children’s hospital?
“Holt?”
My voice sort of cracked when I asked, “Was she happy?”
I don’t know why I asked that. It’s not like it mattered now. Still, with Juniper living on social media, she’d be able to tell if the fun and happy photos on Tasha’s profile were fake or genuine.
Juniper’s eyes softened. She was probably internally high-fiving herself for getting me to express an emotion. “Here.” She gave me her phone with Tasha’s Instagram profile open. “See for yourself.”
“Thanks.”
Chouzie began pulling at his leash. He was ready to move on, yet Juniper hesitated. “But yes, Tasha was happy.”
A tightness in my chest released.
“Okay.”
I didn’t say anything more, and Juniper knew me well enough to leave.
I checked to make sure Brittany wasn’t nearby before I scrolled through Tasha’s photos. Should I feel guilty for looking at snapshots of my ex’s life? What would Brittany think?
I was quiet on the bumpy ride back. Britt probably figured I was tired and grumpy. She spent the ride chatting with Sienna, her fingers laced casually in mine. I rested my eyes on the drive but not because I was about to fall asleep. More because I was processing the snapshots I’d seen of Tasha’s life. Plus, I couldn’t get Christmas out of my mind.
Why would Juniper mention kids?
Of course I love kids. What kind of monster doesn’t like kids? Still, I prefer life without all the yells, crying, and spills that come with children. I barely tolerated kids when I was a kid. Now I’m a crotchety old man stuck in my ways.
Did I want kids? Up until a few months ago I didn’t want a serious girlfriend. Now look at me.
When the truck stopped by Rose’s Repose, I slipped away from the group. I needed to clear my head, and I wouldn’t be able to do that surrounded by people.
I wandered along gravel walkways. There were tons of interconnecting footpaths all with a variety of plants. Sue probably took care of them now, but had they once been Rose’s? Tasha’s dorm room had been filled with potted plants. Were green thumbs genetic?
I should find Quirky Sue and find out why she’d lied about her morning in the vineyard. But that needed to wait until I was no longer about to drop into the fetal position from being around people too long.
There was also the Christmas problem. Mom would want a head count before she rented a house. If I did invite Britt to Christmas, the sooner the better. But we hadn’t been together very long. Was it too soon to invite her on a trip that was months away?
Juniper appeared without Chouzie from an intersecting path and gave a wave when she saw me. “I thought I’d better check and make sure I hadn’t freaked you out too badly.”
“I’m fine.” I continued walking, hoping Juniper would take the hint and leave me alone.
She didn’t. But at least she stayed silent, only shooting me worried glances from time to time.
“Hey,” she said, gesturing to where Average Joe stood near the crime scene tape at the winery. “Let’s go ask him what he knew about Tasha.”
Juniper set off without checking to see if I’d follow. Of course I followed. Not only was I curious, but one of these days Juniper’s big mouth would get her into trouble and she’d need backup.
Joe had moved on from the crime scene tape and had disappeared into the winery through a side door opposite the one Hannah had used for our tour. Juniper didn’t hesitate at the entrance but pulled the door open and walked in like she owned the place. The room was dim. Only light from a few high windows and the rare emergency light brightened the space.
“Joe,” Juniper called. “Is now a good time for a few questions?”
There was no answer, but in the distance there was the muffled sound of voices. We began walking in that direction. Then there was a sudden yell, followed by a splash and the pound of running footsteps.
For a moment I froze as my brain processed the sounds. Either Average Joe had pushed someone or been pushed into a vat of fermenting grapes radiating carbon dioxide fumes.
Here was a surprisingly easy way to unmask Tasha’s killer. All I had to do was chase the pusher. But if I did that there’d be another dead body, and I couldn’t let that happen.
So I bolted to the wine vats. Juniper had read my mind and was right behind me.
I sprinted up one flight of stairs, and Juniper chose the row next to mine so we had a better chance of finding the vat with our victim. I pulled out my phone and called Brittany as I ran.
“Hello?”
“Get to the winery,” I shouted and hung up without giving any other explanation. Britt’s trained for emergencies. She’d know what to do.
I was halfway through my row of vats when I saw him. Average Joe was floating face down in the pool of wine.
“Here,” I yelled, before slipping off my shoes and tossing my sunglasses, phone, and wallet onto the walkway.
“Holt, don’t!” Juniper shrieked from her row. I ignored her, took a deep breath, and lowered myself into a pool of wine.
Back in my lifeguarding days, I could hold my breath for over ninety seconds. How long could I last years later swimming through grape pulp? Any breath I took would just fill my body with carbon dioxide—which is not what you want.
I paddled over to Joe easily enough. In a good news, bad news sort of deal, he didn’t thrash or flail when I got to him. It made moving him easier, but he was giving no signs of life.
I’d managed to keep my head from dunking down into the wine. Still, my eyes were stinging from the gas, and my lungs were throbbing without oxygen.
Juniper was waiting at the rim, saying things I didn’t bother paying attention to. When I reached the side, Juniper bent over and grabbed one of Joe’s arms. She began tugging while I tried to lift. After a few seconds of this, my lungs gave out, and I took an involuntary breath.
My lungs began stinging for a new reason, and my grip on Joe loosened. Large hands appeared and began dragging Joe out of the vat. My body was truly panicking, and I took a second desperate breath. One of Joe’s legs collided with my head, dunking me under the red liquid.
I think I got my head above the surface, but everything was so muddled. I couldn’t breathe, could barely see, and there were voices, but I couldn’t understand them. I’d been treading water, but it was getting difficult to keep my body upright. I was slowing down, about to take a third breath, when Britt’s voice cut through all the confusion. “Holt Jacobs, give me your hand.” I reached up blindly and mumbled a protest when rough hands grabbed me and I was lifted painfully up and over the tank.
Once I was safely on the walkway, the hands let go, and I lay there. I was coughing and spluttering, taking deep breaths but never getting quite enough air.
Then it happened. Water was poured on my face.
“Juniper,” I croaked, without knowing for sure it was her.
At some point I rolled over from my back to my hands and knees, coughing and panting like a mad dog.
“Holt, how are you doing?” It was Brittany’s voice, calm and steady.
“Great. I’m great,” I gasped, before my arms gave out and I fell onto my stomach.
“Take him outside. Let him get some fresh air.” It was Brittany again.
Strange. She was acting unusually bossy.
I yelped when hands dug into my armpits and I was hoisted unceremoniously to my feet.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Juniper kept saying beside me.
“Help us out here,” grunted a voice I didn’t recognize. Lolling my head to one side, I found Brad was there, his face taut. Brad? Was he the one who pulled me out? Had Bad Brad saved my life?
“Britt?” I mumbled.
“She’s with Joe right now,” Juniper said. “Come on, one foot in front of the other.”
I twisted to find Britt and nearly sent the three of us sprawling. Brad gave a yell before catching the railing. He was stronger than I expected.
Brittany was bent over Joe, who remained motionless. I know I shouldn’t be jealous. But what good is having a paramedic girlfriend if, during an emergency, she spends her time with another dude?
We made it to the stairs, and for some reason I couldn’t quite remember, we had to go down. Something was very wrong inside me. “I’m going to be sick,” I muttered.
“Not in my winery,” Brad said.
It sounded like Juniper giggled. We still hadn’t taken a step down the metal stairs. As things stood, an accident seemed likely.
“Holt could go down step by step on his butt,” Juniper suggested.
That wouldn’t work. I would’ve explained why, but I was panting and could feel myself sweating through the wine.
Then Paul appeared at the bottom of the stairs. His face was set with the same professional calm as Britt.
“Is Brittany okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine.” Juniper readjusted her hold on me. “Can you get Holt outside? Brittany said he needs fresh air.”
Paul nodded and got me outside with relative ease. Or I assume he did. To be honest, that part’s kind of hazy. I don’t know if this makes sense, but it was like I had the flu on a bad allergy day.
Next thing I knew, I was lying on the grass, half propped against Juniper, with sirens wailing in the distance. “Is that for me?”
“It’s for Joe.”
“Juniper?”
“Yeah?”
“If you take any pictures of me, don’t send them to Mom for at least a month.”
Juniper started shaking with suppressed laughter. “That might be hard. You’re kind of purple.”
Sometime after that Brittany appeared.
“Britt?” I sat up only to start coughing. That didn’t matter. She would make everything better.
Brittany crouched in front of me and stared so deeply into my eyes, she could probably see my soul—though she may have been checking my pupils.
“Are they sending a second ambulance?” Juniper asked.
“They don’t have one,” Britt said. “Paul’s getting his Subaru. I’m not waiting for the ambulance to come back from bringing Joe.”
Instead of making things better, Britt had ordered a trip to the ER. Such a hassle. Shouldn’t I be consulted on whether or not I wanted to go to the hospital?
I think I groaned. Which was my only comment about being kidnapped.
Paul arrived and set up a tarp in his back seat before I was loaded in. First plastic sheets and now a plastic seat? What was my life coming to?
Brittany sat beside me, and Juniper rode up front with Paul. “How are you?” Britt asked, her scar the only thing betraying she was worried.
“Horrible,” I said. “I want to lie down, and you’re making me go to the hospital.”
Britt’s mouth twitched as she fought a smile. “I know. I’m the worst.”
“You said it, not me.” For a moment I wondered if that was too mean, but Britt seemed fine, so I rested my head against the massive tarp Paul was making me sit on.
It was official. I’d ruined another outfit.
The whining of the ambulance caught up to us, and Paul pulled over so it could pass. That’s when I remembered to ask, “How’s Joe?”
“Still alive,” Brittany said, “but unconscious when the other paramedics arrived.” Britt analyzed my face before adding, “He had a nasty bump to the head.”
I nodded. “Yeah. It sounded like someone knocked him into the vat.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Juniper said, twisting from her spot beside Paul. “But I didn’t see anyone. Did you?”
I shook my head, and the rest of the drive went by in silence.
The hospital was a huge inconvenience. For starters, my ID and insurance card were in my wallet somewhere on the winery floor. Then they made me change into a hospital gown.
Have you ever tried to remove wine-soaked jeans while experiencing flu-like symptoms? I don’t recommend it. But it’s not like I was going to ask for help. The help I’d get would be some stranger with scissors cutting me out of my pants.
The jeans would probably be fine after going through the wash. But if they were cut into shreds, they’d be unwearable.
There was a swirl of doctors and nurses with questions. Tests and oxygen. I grew less loopy as the process progressed, but that only brought out the crankiness.
I was alone in a treatment room waiting to be discharged when Cop Kid showed up wanting my statement.
“Are you well enough to go over what happened?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
Cop Kid sat down, ignoring my answer.
“How did you end up in the winery? Isn’t it off-limits for guests without an escort?”
My eyes closed, and I rested my head against the half-upright bed. Of course this was happening.
“Mr. Jacobs?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” I said, raising my head. “Sorry, I’m a little off today. I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a hospital and this plastic bracelet”—I waved my wrist—“shows I’m one of the patients.”
Cop Kid covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes crinkling. After a few seconds he gave a cough before returning to the interview like nothing had happened.
“So, why were you in the winery?”
I wasn’t going to lie to the man, but I’d do my best to keep most of the truth to myself. Telling the police I was following Joe to ask if he was the birth father of my murdered ex-girlfriend sounded like I was auditioning for a soap opera.
“Joe had just taken us grape picking. My sister and I saw him go into the winery and followed since we had a few questions.”
“I see,” Cop Kid said. But there was something about his tone, how his eyes stayed slightly crinkled, that gave me the impression he knew I wasn’t taking the interview seriously.
“And Joe Shaw. How did he end up in the tank?”
Had this cop already talked to Juniper? Surely she’d tell him we’d heard but hadn’t seen what happened.
“There were sounds of an argument, then a splash.” I shrugged. “I don’t know who was with Joe.”
After I answered, Cop Kid gave a slow nod like my information was super important. “And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone? This is the second incident you’ve come across at the winery in two days.”
What was he implying?
I straightened, anger flaring. “I nearly died getting Joe out of the tank. I wouldn’t have pushed him in.”
The Cop Kid coughed quickly before moving to the window and standing there for some time. When he returned, his face had the same look of being not quite serious.
