Blood Vines

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sonoma Valley, California

Friday, March 5

4:40 P.M.

Alex sat at a window table at the girl & the fig, gazing out at the Sonoma square. Tourists meandered from shop to shop, moms with strollers ambled in the park while a group of young people loitered on benches. They looked a bit more hippie throwback than twenty-first-century Gen-Ys, though their Starbucks cups gave them away.

She had noted already that unlike San Francisco, people didn’t rush here. The living was relaxed. The atmosphere laid-back.

Was it the influence of the landscape? Alex wondered, lifting her glass. Or the grape?

She held her wineglass to her nose and breathed in the zinfandel’s full-bodied, spicy bouquet. It was a Sommer wine. She’d seen it on the wine menu and ordered it despite its ridiculous per glass price.

She sipped the wine, held it on her tongue a moment before swallowing. It was worth every penny, if not for its superior quality then for the fact seeing it on the menu and sipping it now was like a sign. She had done the right thing.

She thought of Tim. He had begged her to reconsider this move, was convinced she was making a bad decision. One motivated by grief. He was frightened for her.

Too late to second-guess yourself, Alex.

Way too late, she acknowledged, taking another sip. Thirty minutes ago, she’d signed a six-month lease on a charming cottage just a block and a half from here.

She couldn’t turn back or chicken out now. She had committed herself.

A knock on the picture window jerked her from her thoughts. Reed, she saw. He smiled in greeting and she motioned him inside.

A moment later she invited him to join her. “I’m surprised to see you this time of day,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be off detecting?”

“Maybe I am?”

“Cryptic. That fits.”

He motioned the bartender, ordered a Coke, then turned back to her. “Word was, you were back in Sonoma.”

“Really? Do you have spies everywhere, Detective Reed?”

“It’s a small town.”

“And you’re not going to tell me more than that?”

“Reveal my sources? No way.” The waitress delivered Alex’s appetizer, a display of fruits and artisanal cheese, and his soft drink. She sent Reed a conspiratorial glance, then walked away.

“One of your sources?” Alex asked.

“Could be. Neely knows most everything that goes on around the square.”

“Is that so?” She smiled. “She tell you I rented a house around the corner? The little yellow one?”

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not kidding. I’m moving in Saturday.”

“You don’t think that’s a little rash?”

“Not for me.”

“What about your job?”

“I’m good for a few months without one. I intend to finish my dissertation. This’ll be the perfect opportunity. And the perfect place to do it.”

“You never heard the advice about not making snap decisions when grieving?”

She thought of Tim. “Just the other day, in fact. Problem is, I’m not very good at taking advice.”

“Independent thinker? Or ODD?” She cocked an eyebrow in question and he grinned. “Oppositional defiance disorder. My brother has a kid tagged with that. Makes life interesting.”

She spread brie on a piece of baguette, took a bite and murmured her approval. “Independent or oppositionally defiant? Depends on who you’re talking to.”

He laughed. “Good enough. So, next Saturday’s the day.”

“No, this Saturday.”

“Tomorrow?”

“The house is furnished so all I’ll need is clothes, personal items and my research materials.”

He digested that for a moment, then leaned toward her. “But why, Alex? What do you hope to gain by this?”

“Answers.”

“To what?”

“I would think that’s obvious. Why my mother ran away, why she hid the past from me. To what happened to my brother.”

“What if there are no answers?”

“There’re answers. I just need to dig them up.”

“I wish you luck, Alex.” He stood, seemed to come to a decision and met her eyes. “Think you’d have the energy to go to a party Saturday night? My family’s launching their ’08 Bear Creek Zin.”

“Are you asking me out, Detective?”

“I suppose I am.” He smiled. “I’ll introduce you to my mother. Maybe she can help you get some of those answers you’re looking for.” He laid three dollars on the bar. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Dress?” she asked.

He grinned. “Anything goes here. I’ll see you then.”

Alex watched him exit the restaurant. It occurred to her as she lowered her gaze that he’d probably be fabulous in bed. Would “anything go” there as well? she wondered.

She’d better watch herself around the handsome detective, Alex thought. She had a history of not using the good sense God had given her.