We walked into the air conditioning, and all four of us let out simultaneous sighs of relief. I glued my elbows to my sides to try to keep my odoriferous fragrance under wraps. Maybe I could sneak into Luz’s bathroom and look for perfume to cover it up?
Then I imagined the scent of warm vanilla sugar mingled with wet dog and onion breath.
New plan. What if I wash the body odor out with soap and water and dry the shirt with her hair dryer?
I chided myself. Focus on the case, Kate. Don’t get distracted by your own vanity.
“First things first—let’s find Regina,” I said. “We’ve had one disappearance and one assault already. We need to make sure she’s all right.” If she’s not the one behind it all . . .
“Should we split up and search the buildings?” asked Luz, pulling her hair down from her braid.
“No, we should stay together,” Thomas muttered. His gaze flicked around the room as if he expected an assailant to jump out from behind a potted plant. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? Splitting up is a good way to get murdered one by one.”
Frannie rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one’s getting murdered.”
Thomas shrugged. “You’re not the one being accused of hurting Bruce and Vicente,” he retorted. “In any case, I want a clear alibi if anyone else takes a shovel to the head.”
“He has a point,” I said. “I do think it’s better if we stay together for now. Let’s check the wine cave.”
We made our way to the back door and down the hill. The door to the wine cave was ajar, and I caught a glimpse of glowing lights within.
“Did we turn the lights off when we left?” I asked.
“I turned off the track lighting,” said Luz, “but the string lights are always on. But . . . I definitely closed the door.”
I took the lead, gripping the handle with white-knuckled fingers. Breath held, I pushed the door open.
Regina was sitting at one of the tables, a half-empty glass of white wine in front of her. “Oh, there you are!” she said halfheartedly. “I was beginning to hope I wouldn’t have to see any of you for the rest of the day.”
“I thought you’d gone for coffee with your friend,” I replied.
“She wanted Bruce to join us.” Regina drummed her neon-green fingernails on the table. “Idiot let his phone die, so we’re waiting for him to come back from his hangout with Gloria. If he’s not back soon, though, I think we’re just going to leave without him. What is he doing—decorating sugar cookies at Grandma’s house?” She snorted at her own joke.
“Where’s Alice?” I asked.
“She wanted to take a walk around the lake while we waited, but I thought it was way too hot. I mean, I’m wearing jeans.” She gestured at her outfit. “California in the summer is the worst. If Bruce weren’t a grape expert, I’d move somewhere cooler. The Pacific Northwest, maybe, or Colorado. I guess we could move to the Columbia Gorge area . . .”
I tuned out her prattle. Regina doesn’t have an alibi for Bruce’s attack.
Luz sank onto a wine-barrel seat across the table from Regina. “I’ve got some bad news,” she said carefully.
“Oh?” Regina looked bored.
“Bruce just went to the hospital by ambulance,” said Luz.
Regina sat upright, paling. “What? Is he all right?”
I interjected, “He was alive, with good vitals. But he took a significant blow to the head and was knocked unconscious.”
She stood up so fast she nearly knocked over her wine-barrel chair. “I . . . I have to go. I have to go to the hospital. I’m sorry. Tell Alice what happened. I’m so sorry. Sorry!”
She ran out the door, leaving us in tense silence. I tried to weigh what had just happened. Was Regina’s reaction the panic of a loving wife? Or over-the-top acting to deflect suspicion?
“I feel so bad for her,” said Frannie with a sigh. “What a shock.”
“Mmm, I don’t know.” Thomas sat next to Luz. “I’m suspicious of her. She’s infamously volatile.”
“You can say that again,” muttered Luz. She scooted away from Thomas, almost imperceptibly. “Although I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily suspicious of her.”
“She and Bruce have been explosive for years.” Thomas rested his elbows on the tabletop. “Even if she’s not the freak who sabotaged the winery, I bet she attacked Bruce. She heard about all the weird things happening and saw her chance to get away with murder and pin the blame on someone else.”
Frannie shook her head. “She looked really shocked. Do you think she’s that good an actress?” Then she wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell? Did something die down here?”
The blood drained from my face. I’m that smell. And I’m pretty sure I just died of embarrassment.
Luz and Thomas looked around, sniffing the rank air. In the enclosed space of the wine cave, it was starting to become overpowering. They grimaced in unison.
“What is that?” asked Thomas.
My first instinct was to deny it, to try to frame something else—anything else—for my body odor crime. We were basically in a basement—of course it would be musty. Maybe the wine Regina had been drinking had gone sour.
But there was no hiding the evidence—the scent trail would lead straight to me. I was caught red-handed. Time to face the music.
“It’s me,” I squeaked. “Guess my deodorant didn’t stand up to all that heat. I’m going to blame being pregnant with twins. It’s a pretty good catch-all excuse for everything, to be honest. Especially when I want to eat a lot of sugar, or something. I always blame the twins for that.” I was rambling, but it was hard to stop. My face felt so warm. This was absolutely humiliating. Maybe even more humiliating than pretending to be Vicente’s fiancée. “And I can’t change my shirt because my suitcase is still in Vicente’s car, which is in town, and—”
Frannie shrieked. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean . . .”
Luz’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with suppressed laughter.
Thomas chortled, not even trying to hide his amusement. “So, is that what it means when a detective says something doesn’t smell right? Guess you’ve solved one case already, Miss Private Investigator.”
“I knew it!” Frannie exclaimed. “I thought you were a PI! Are you really engaged to Vicente? Fred didn’t think you were—I guess because of the way you were asking questions—but . . . was that just your PI training kicking in?”
Well, there goes the last trace of my cover story . . . But at least I had a chance to reclaim some of my self-respect. If my treacherous armpits hadn’t poisoned the rest of my dignity.
“I’m happy to say I have never been romantically involved with Vicente Domingo,” I said, managing a tight smile. “I’m married, actually. Vicente and I know each other professionally—we worked together on a few cases back in San Francisco, and he invited me to help him on a case here in Golden.”
“And now he’s missing?” gasped Frannie. “Because he was investigating something? What on earth were you guys looking into?”
I deferred to Luz.
With a long sigh, Luz rubbed her eyes. “Someone’s been threatening the winery. For a few weeks. I asked Vicente to come look into it.”
“Whoa,” said Frannie. “That’s crazy! But let me know if you want any help . . . I don’t have as much experience as you, but my fiancé was accused of murder recently, and I solved that case. I’m sorry. It’s probably stupid of me to offer.”
“You solved a murder case?” I exclaimed. “That’s incredible. I’m thrilled to meet another PI-in-the-making.”
Frannie offered a shy smile. “I don’t know that I’d go that far. I’m just an amateur, really.”
“But you solved a murder case, which means you have good instincts.”
Thomas chuckled. “Bet she could have solved the Case of the Armpit Stank if you hadn’t confessed.”
Heat flushed my face, and Luz shot Thomas a dirty look.
“Kate,” she said, “would you like a clean shirt from the gift shop? It’s the least I can do after all the work you’re putting in. I’m so sorry we didn’t think to get your suitcase here.”
“Does the gift shop sell deodorant?” I asked hopefully.
At that, she laughed aloud. “No, but you’re actually in luck. There was a buy-one-get-one sale on deodorant a couple weeks ago, so I have an unopened stick.”
“You mean the rest of us are in luck,” quipped Thomas.
“Let’s head back to the house,” said Luz, ignoring Thomas.
One blessed trip to the bathroom later, I finally felt clean—I’d managed a sponge bath, put on fresh deodorant, and squeezed my way into a men’s XL T-shirt. It was the least-flattering shirt I’d ever worn—tight around my baby bump and as baggy as a potato sack everywhere else—but I tugged it down as far as I could with a sigh of relief. I’d take clownish proportions over pit stains any day.
I pushed open the bathroom door and shuffled into the living room where the three of them awaited me. “Thank you so much,” I called to Luz. “I feel human again.”
Thomas cocked his head. “What’s that smell?”
Luz slugged him in the shoulder. “Would you stop that? It wasn’t funny before, and it’s still not funny. The woman is pregnant with twins!”
“It’s just rude,” chimed in Frannie.
“No, I’m serious,” Thomas said, outright fear on his face. “I’m not making a joke. I think I smell . . .”
The acrid scent hit me, and I blanched.
“Smoke,” I said.