A Not So Rosy Vintage, page 9
“What?” I asked.
Cop Kid tilted his head, allowing the faintest of smiles. “You remind me of my cousin.”
“Um…” Was that supposed to mean something? “Thank you?”
His lips twitched, but he stayed almost serious. “Now, about Natasha. Since we’re here, I have a few follow-up questions about your relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” I said.
I stared at Cop Kid, and he stared right back. I was practically daring him to correct me. While yes, we dated in college, that was ten years, five apartments, and two jobs ago. Nothing I knew about Tasha in our former lives would help with the investigation.
“All the same,” Cop Kid said, “I wanted to ask—”
Britt walked into my room carrying a semi-clear garbage bag with what was probably my wine-soaked clothes. She said, “A nurse is getting a pair of disposable scrubs, since you won’t be putting these back on.” Seeing the cop, Britt widened her stance, and she seemed to grow a few inches. “Your interview’s done. Mr. Jacobs is in no condition to answer questions right now.”
Cop Kid deflated, and I smirked. Brittany having a bossy side wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Of course,” Cop Kid said and gave a little bow in Britt’s direction. He was halfway out the door when he turned back. “Hold on,” he said. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I raised an eyebrow at Britt, who shook her head and came to stand beside me. “You’re all set to go. The doctor said you’ll need to take it easy the next few days since you’ll be kind of sluggish, but you’re cleared to leave.”
“All right,” I said, not really processing her words. How could it be days before I felt better? A part of me expected I’d feel this way forever, while another part assumed I’d be back to normal after a good nap.
“Paul and Juniper are already in the car. All we need is your change of clothes.”
“Great,” I said, leaning against her.
Britt put a hand in my hair, then quickly removed it. “Don’t freak out,” she said. “But your hair is all sticky.”
“What!” I tried to sound outraged since me acting normal was the best way to make Brittany less worried. “I’m trying out this new conditioner. It was supposed to make my hair silky smooth.”
“I’d ask for a refund,” Britt said.
“Yeah.”
Instead of putting her hand back in my hair, Brittany’s hand cupped my neck. Strange. That’s what Mom did to calm me down as a kid. I let out a long-overdue sigh…Guess it still worked as an adult.
We remained like this until Cop Kid returned carrying folded clothes. “It’s nothing fancy, but they’re clean and dry. Should be better than disposable scrubs.”
He shoved the clothes at me, and it took a few seconds for me to catch on. Wasn’t I a murder suspect? Why had he gone out of his way to give me clothes?
“Don’t worry about returning them. They’re old,” he said.
I nodded. “Um, thanks.”
Cop Kid held out his hand, and we shook. “You saved a man’s life today. Don’t make me arrest you tomorrow.”
Chapter 7
Cop Kid was smaller than me. The shorts were tight and stopped well above my knees. As for the sweatshirt, I’m totally serious when I say it was for a high school wrestling team. There was no year printed on it, or I would have done the math to figure out how old my young friend was. Regardless, the cop was right; it was better than the disposable scrubs.
When Britt and I returned to the car, Paul eyed me, trying to figure out if I would stain his seats. I decided to sit on the tarp without comment. As long as Britt sat beside me, I had no complaints…Well, Juniper could have moved her seat forward so I had more legroom, but other than that, no complaints.
“We’ll all need to change when we get back,” Juniper said. “I texted Sue, and she said we can use the laundry room that’s across from the kitchen. Now, is anyone besides Holt showering?”
Why were they all changing?
What with all the brain fog brought on by carbon dioxide poisoning, I was still operating a couple of steps behind. Then I noticed it. Britt’s clothes were splotched red like they’d gotten a strange tie-dye, Paul’s shoulder and down his side were dyed red, and when Juniper twisted back to face us, I could see she was the worst of the bunch. Her shirt was practically one big stain. Why hadn’t Paul made Juniper sit on a tarp?
Juniper caught my gaze and shook her head. “Yes, you’ve ruined a lot of clothes today.”
“I blame Joe,” I said.
“Not the person who pushed him?” Juniper asked.
I shrugged. “That works too.”
Back at the house, Juniper and Paul quickly disappeared upstairs. I was still weak and a little dizzy but was able to walk up the stairs. The problem was, Britt felt the need to supervise.
I was resting at the second-floor landing with sweat breaking out around my temples, when I side-eyed Britt. “You know I’ll make it.”
Britt nodded. “Of course you will.”
“So you”—I paused to take a few deep breaths—“can go, and I’ll see you in a minute.”
Britt smiled, but there was hardheaded stubbornness just under the surface. “Not a chance.”
When I finally made it to the room, I was tempted to collapse on the couch to recover, but I might not get up again. Juniper was right. I needed a shower. I reeked of wine, and while not exactly purple, my skin wasn’t a normal color. After stopping by my room to get clean sweats, I was ready to shower. I’d made it to the bathroom door, when Britt stopped me.
“Holt, could you do me a favor?”
What could Brittany want? “Um…maybe.”
“Leave the bathroom door unlocked.”
I looked from Britt to the door, then back to Britt. “Excuse me?”
Britt shrugged, trying so hard to seem nonchalant. “Just this once.”
My eyes squeezed shut as realization hit. “I’m not going to pass out in the shower.”
“Of course not” is what she said, but from the set of her jaw, I got the impression that if I didn’t go along with the unlocked door policy, her next plan involved removing the door.
I tried to run a hand through my sticky hair. I always lock the bathroom door, even when I’m alone in my apartment. This was so wrong.
The scar by Britt’s eyebrow was well defined. She was worried and wanted to keep me safe.
I could do this for her. Sighing, I said, “Fine. But I’m great, and this is unnecessary.” I closed the door without waiting for a reply.
I almost screamed at my reflection. The bathroom mirror didn’t do me any favors. My hair was a few shades darker than normal and sticking together in weird clumps. I was wearing clothes too small for me, and I was a little more purple than I’d originally thought. With Brittany listening on the other side of the door, I swallowed a groan and got into the shower.
I didn’t pass out.
There was a moment when I decided to sit down in the tub to rest a bit, but that could happen to anyone.
By the end of the shower, I’d scrubbed myself so much, I didn’t know what was redness from the scrubbing versus dye from the wine. After drying off my hair, I decided not to bother with product. Lying down was becoming a necessity, and if my hair was a poofy mess after, so be it.
“Britt?” I called through the door as I pulled on my joggers.
“Yeah?”
“I’m still alive.”
“I figured,” Britt was saying right as I opened the door.
After giving her a quick kiss, I moved past her toward my bedroom.
“Holt,” Brittany said with a little extra emotion in her voice. “Could you come to the couch?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, reminding myself I was an adult and should use my words. “Britt, I have to lie down.”
Brittany bit her lip and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I know, but…”
Exhausted, I leaned against the wall.
“My goodness,” Juniper said, rising from one of the kitchenette chairs. Had she been there the whole time? “Holt, Brittany wants to watch you sleep.”
Britt began flushing and tucking invisible strands of hair behind her ears. “Not exactly. It’s just I would prefer to be able to monitor your breathing and heart rate, which would be easier if you were with me on the couch.”
I held a hand out to her. “You’re, like, pretty worried?”
Brittany took my hand and began walking me to the couch. “I don’t know about pretty worried. More like moderately concerned.”
I tried to hide how happy her moderate concern made me. “The hospital said I was good to go.”
Brittany sat down and didn’t reply until I was stretched out across the couch with my head in her lap. “First off, they said to take it easy, and second, the hospital didn’t watch their boyfriend swimming in a vat of carbon dioxide.”
“Britt should definitely be worried,” added my ever-helpful sister. “That’s the Joker’s origin story.”
My eyes were half-closed, and I was almost too comfortable to correct her. Almost. Clearing my throat, I said, “The Joker fell into a vat of acid, not wine.”
“Nerd,” Juniper said.
I’d walked right into that one.
I shivered slightly, feeling strangely cold, but I was too tired to worry about a blanket and was almost asleep when an odd scraping had me cracking an eye open. Juniper stood above me. “What are you doing?” I asked, half sitting up.
My sister rolled her eyes. “Would you relax? I’m being nice.”
I watched skeptically as Juniper removed the top from the ottoman, then took out a blue quilt and spread it over me.
Finally, Britt eased my head back onto her lap, before finding my hand and giving it a squeeze. “Relax,” she whispered.
Muttering something unintelligible, I did as requested.
Voices gradually entered my sleep. Brittany and Juniper were talking, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. I shifted slightly, drifting deeper when a knock had me sitting up and rubbing a hand over my face.
My sister was by the door with Quirky Sue. “Sorry for just barging in like this,” Quirky Sue was saying, carrying two stacked totes. She caught sight of me. “Oh my. Did I wake you? I’m so sorry. Paul told us the three of you wouldn’t be down for supper, so I brought some up.” Quirky Sue set the totes on the kitchenette’s small table. “There’s food in the top one, and I added a bottle of Pinot.”
I’m not proud of this, but I dry heaved at the mention of wine.
“Oh, uh…Then again, you’ve probably been around enough wine. The other tub has all your clean clothes, plus Holt’s shoes and sunglasses that he left in the winery. And here”—she reached into her pocket—“are his phone and wallet.”
Would she ever stop talking?
“I heard all about your heroics,” Sue said, moving to stand in front of me on the couch.
Now she was talking to me. Yikes. Was it too late to pretend I was still asleep?
Quirky Sue said, “I don’t know if they give out medals for that sort of thing, but you deserve one. Jumping in like that, you saved his life. We almost had two murders in two days.” Quirky Sue looked at me expectantly, and I realized it was finally my turn to say something.
“Uhh.” I tried to blink away the grogginess. “I’m sorry, is there any coffee?”
She laughed and looked at Brittany. “You must have your hands full with this one.” Without waiting for an answer, Sue was talking about how she’d better be going and didn’t want to be in the way.
At least she let herself out.
The door had just clicked shut when I remembered Quirky Sue had lied about being in the vineyard.
I struggled, trying to stand up. Somehow I was all tangled in the quilt. Before I could figure it out, Britt had rested a firm hand on my arm. “What do you need?”
“Sue lied.” I was a little breathless. “I want to know why.”
Brittany looked to Juniper.
My sister tossed back her hair. “I’m on it.” The next second Juniper was out the door and calling down the stairs. “Sue, could you come back for a second? There’s something we wanted to ask you.”
Quirky Sue reentered the room, looking at us curiously. “What did you need?”
Britt and Juniper looked at me, trying to figure out whether I planned on doing the interrogating.
I was still half-asleep and my lungs were burning, but I’d at least make an attempt to question Quirky Sue. “At the tasting,” I said, doing my best to make my voice sound normal, “you said you’d spent all morning getting the patio ready, but Sienna saw you walking through the vineyard.”
“Oh.” Color rushed to Quirky Sue’s face.
Was she about to start crying? I really couldn’t deal with that right now.
“How did she see me?”
Juniper was opening her mouth to tell her about the hot-air balloon, when Quirky Sue shook her head.
“I guess it doesn’t matter how,” Sue said. “And really, it’s not some deep, dark secret. It’s just Hannah’s always thought I was bad at my job or wasn’t working hard enough.” Her voice shook, but so far there weren’t any tears. “I’m the one waking up before sunrise to make breakfast for all the guests, but if I try to take a break after being up for twice as long as Hannah, she makes comments like I have a bad work ethic.” Quirky Sue shook her head. “I just didn’t want to deal with another fight.”
“So you were lying to Hannah?” Britt asked when I didn’t say anything.
Quirky Sue’s lip trembled. “You must think I’m terrible.”
Juniper was at Sue’s side and gave her a half hug. “We never said that.”
“Thank you.” Quirky Sue’s eyes squeezed shut. “We all loved Rose, but now that she’s gone, it’s like none of them miss her. Sometimes I just need to walk through the vineyard and process everything, since none of them want to talk about her.”
What she was saying made sense. While I realize it’s judgmental to accuse Hot Hannah of being judgmental, I could absolutely imagine a world where Sue felt the need to lie about taking a walk to keep Hot Hannah from making snide comments.
“And the rosé?” I asked. “Why did you set out the wrong bottle?”
“I’m so sorry.” Quirky Sue’s eyes turned pleading, and you’d think I’d just accused her of murder.
“It’s fine,” I said, since she was waiting for an answer.
“But why was the bottle out?” Juniper prodded when Sue didn’t say anything else.
“Oh, right.” Quirky Sue tried to stand up a little straighter, but it somehow made her look more defeated. “I lost track of time walking through the vineyard. When I saw how late it was, I was far away from the winery. I had to rush back to get everything set up, and I was in such a hurry, I must’ve grabbed the wrong bottle.”
“Thank you for clearing that up,” Juniper said with an encouraging smile. I’d meant to thank her, but I’d kind of slumped against the couch and wasn’t ready to talk.
Quirky Sue nodded, but instead of looking relieved, there was something like fear in her eyes. “You won’t tell Hannah?”
“Of course not,” Juniper promised for all of us. “We’re so thankful for how hard you’ve worked to make this stay enjoyable. We’d never do anything to cause you trouble.”
“Okay.” Quirky Sue took a deep, quivering breath. “Was there anything else you needed?”
Juniper looked at me, and I shook my head. “Nope,” my sister said. “That’ll be all. Thanks again for clearing up that confusion.”
“My pleasure,” Quirky Sue said, her answer seeming more out of habit than from genuine pleasure. She left right after and, if I had to guess, hurried downstairs so Juniper couldn’t stop her a second time.
“Well, that clears that up,” Britt said, smoothing some of the hair off my forehead.
“Yeah,” I said, eyeing the quilt. I was still trapped, and I needed coffee. But the effort it would take to get up felt like a lot.
Before I mustered the energy, Juniper brought me a hot cup of coffee, along with my phone. As if by magic, the phone lit up with Mom’s number the moment it touched my hand.
“Figures,” I said, showing the screen to Britt. I never could figure out how Mom had sonar for when I was in trouble, but ignoring her calls would only make her call more. Answering the phone, I started speaking before she could talk. “Hi, Mom. Yes, I went to the ER for carbon dioxide poisoning, but I’m fine now. They discharged me, I took a nap, and now I’m having coffee.”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched on for so long, I checked to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected. Then Mom said, “Well, Holt, I actually called to ask about Christmas.”
Uh-oh.
Smoothing out my tousled hair, I asked, “So Juniper didn’t send any photos of me looking…purple?”
“No. No, she did not.” Mom’s voice was clipped. Was she upset about my ER visit or the fact moving to Australia had dulled her superpower?
Juniper sat on the floor with Chouzie in her lap watching me flounder like it was her favorite reality show. And Juniper was getting all this entertainment just from my end of the call; it’s not like Mom was on speaker.
“Okay, so…” I didn’t know what to say next.
Her voice grew muffled, and it sounded like Mom was giving Dad a status update.
When Mom returned to the phone she was all business. “What about your girlfriend? Is Brittany still there?”
“Um.” I glanced at Britt, wondering if she could hear Mom. “Yes.”
“Is she taking good care of you?”
I wanted to say Britt forced me into a car and brought me to the hospital, but I had a suspicion Mom would take Brittany’s side, so instead I said, “Yes.”
There was another muffled conversation with Dad. “Do you need any help?”
“Nope. Thirty-year-old adult over here. I’m fine.”
“Promise?”
My cheeks began heating. I should have taken the call in my bedroom. This wasn’t a conversation I needed Britt or Juniper overhearing. “Yeah, I promise.”
