D is for Drunk (13 page)

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.

“I see Marcel!” Bambi twittered. “He’s supposed to be an amazing key to draw.”

“Really, why?” Sofia didn’t want to imagine drawing whippet-thin and snotty Marcel’s key.

“He is supposed to have mad skills,” Bambi said. “And he’s very flexible.”

There was a mental picture Sofia couldn’t unsee.

“Good luck!” Sofia said.

Bambi bounced off toward the deck.

“They have strawberries and pineapple at the chocolate fountain,” Sofia said. “That’s my next stop.”

“What kind of drugs do you think they have here?” Aidan asked.

“Coke.” She skewered a pineapple piece and held it in the cascading chocolate. “Ecstasy. Pot.”

“But...” He didn’t seem to know what to say.

“Try a strawberry,” she said. “The chocolate is amazing.”

“We should go.”

“The drugs are probably in the kitchen,” she said. “If you want to go do a raid. But it’s nothing to do with water rustling, which is the real reason we are here.”

Aidan ate a strawberry without chocolate.

She tried a mango slice with chocolate. Every bit as good as the pineapple. “I think we can guess why Narek hates Marcel now. Sounds like Marcel was sleeping with Milena and Narek didn’t like it.”

“Such a little pig of a man.” Aidan did a fair job with the French accent.

Sofia laughed.

Behind them, a bell rang. People started gathering in the living room.

Mr. Purple called from the middle of the living room. “It’s time!”

Aidan went stiff. He looked panicked. She ought to put him out of his misery.

Nah.

CHAPTER 21

S
ofia waited calmly next to Aidan. He was practically hyperventilating. She wondered if she ought to get him a paper bag.

“Go first and get my key,” he said.

“There’s a line,” she pointed out. “And I don’t get to stir around in there and pick out the key I want. It’s random.”

“It is?” Aidan watched Bambi pull out the first key.

Bambi’s key had a Mercedes symbol on it.

“Mine,” said Marcel.

Bambi turned to him with a giggle that shook her breasts. He took her arm and led her outside. Sofia would have expected them to go into one of the bedrooms. But maybe Marcel was more of a back-to-nature kinda guy.

Annabelle and Rick Pankhurst weren’t part of the key-drawing crowd. She wondered how many people had cheated and picked a partner before the key drawing. She should have counted heads.

Did picking someone deliberately, instead of randomly through the key draw, mean there was a relationship there? If so, were Annabelle and Rick more serious about each other? It didn’t seem as if Marcel cared or noticed.

Had Narek and Milena come to parties like this? Based on Annabelle’s comments about Narek, she thought they must have. It seemed to suit Milena’s personality, but not Narek’s. Wife swapping could definitely cause friction among neighbors.

Aidan touched her shoulder. “We’re not doing this.”

“How are you going to get your key?”

“At this point,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind walking home.”

She drained her wineglass. “The way you drive, it’d be faster to walk anyway.”

He glared at her. “I’m serious. Let’s go.”

“We’ll be fine,” she said. “This stuff is all consensual. These folks aren’t a prison rape gang. Unless, you know, the woman who gets your keys is into that.”

While they’d been arguing, several women had drawn keys and headed out to various parts of the house. Only about half the crowd was left now. They all leaned forward, eyes glued on the bowl.

It reminded her of being picked for kickball team at school. Sure, you probably weren’t going to be picked first, but nobody wanted to get picked last. Only the worst players got picked last. Maybe this wasn’t as random as she’d thought. Maybe the best players of this game had already been picked.

“Sofia,” Aidan said. “I mean it.”

He’d crossed his arms and a muscle was jumping in his jaw. She hoped he didn’t have blood pressure problems. He probably would have had an aneurysm by now if he had.

“OK,” she said. “Watch this.”

She’d already secreted Aidan’s keys in her sleeve. She sashayed up to the bowl, taking her time so the men in the party could get a good look at her. That was clearly the protocol. A few guys whistled and she thought she heard an exasperated sigh from Aidan.

She slowly dipped her hand into the bowl. She’d done something similar in the show, and she was pretty confident it would work, but she wiggled her butt to direct everyone’s attention down there. Then she let Aidan’s key slide down her sleeve, under her cuff, and onto her palm. She wondered how many other women were using the same trick.

She held the keys up high. Aidan’s face lit up when he spotted his yellow flashlight in her hands. He’d never been so happy to see her holding on to anything, she suspected.

“Mine.” He practically sprinted to the front of the room.

“Hi,” Sofia said. “Partner.”

“Let’s go,” he hissed under his breath.

“Downstairs,” suggested a tall man built like a linebacker. “First door on your left. You’ll like it.”

Scattered applause moved around the room at his suggestion. They must have gotten the lucky room.

Aidan tugged her elbow and tilted his head toward the parking lot. He was clearly done with the party.

But she was there to investigate, and that room sounded like a great place to start.

She closed her fingers around the key and trotted down the stairs. Grumbling, Aidan followed. The conversations from the crowd faded away behind them.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” she asked.

“No.” He wasn’t even trying to be a good sport.

She opened the door and went inside. The room was dark and it took her a few seconds to find the light switch, fingers groping across a wall that felt curiously soft.

When she clicked the light on, Aidan let out a low whistle.

They were in a dungeon sex room. Handcuffs and different kinds of whips hung from the walls on ornate hooks. A brass four-poster bed with a thin mattress stood in one corner. It was made up with black sheets that looked silk. Another corner showcased two latex suits and a container of baby powder. Gray acoustic foam lined the walls, soundproofing the room.

“Great,” Sofia said. “It’s fifty shades of perv.”

CHAPTER 22

S
ofia made a slow circuit of the room while Aidan stayed in the middle with his hands in his pockets, as if he was afraid to touch anything.

Sofia’s phone chimed. She took it out of her pocket, and Aidan came over to look at it. It was a text from Emily:
Are you going out with the horse hunk tonight?

Sofia was standing right next to the latex suits. They creeped her out and she stepped away. It felt weird to be texting Emily from this room.

“Are you?” Aidan asked. “Are you going out with Action Jaxon tonight?”

“How could I top all this excitement?” She typed an answer to Emily:
He has a show tonight.

Aidan read over her shoulder. “So, you’re the only one in this place not hooking up tonight? That’s sad.”

“You sound pretty confident about how your date with Taylor is going to come out,” she said. “Is that on her dating profile, too?”

“Figure of speech,” Aidan said. “How long do you think we need to stay in here?”

“I guess that depends on your perceived stamina.” She looked over at the bed. It looked like an oil slick. “Five minutes?”

Aidan looked offended. “That isn’t even a warmup. I’d say at least half an hour. Or longer.”

“I don’t want to stay down here half an hour just to make you look good,” she said.

“Why not? It’s not like you have another appointment.” Aidan had retreated back to the exact center of the room, as far away from all the furnishings as possible.

She touched the smallest whip. It was real leather. How much did something like that cost? Weren’t the Beforts worried about someone stealing all these gadgets?

“Don’t touch that thing,” Aidan said sharply. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

She let go of the whip. He was probably right. She didn’t even want to think about where the whip had been.

“Do you suppose they have the room bugged?” She glanced around at the gray walls, looking for a hidden camera. She didn’t see one, but that didn’t mean anything. Cameras could be embedded in anything these days.

“Like for blackmail purposes?” He started looking around, too, clearly happy to have something to do.

“Or to give us our own personal sex tape,” she said. It didn’t have to be sinister, but maybe it was. Maybe that was why Narek Grigoryan disliked Marcel Befort so much. “Something we could watch on boring nights.”