Luz’s eyebrows knitted together.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Regina took another sip of wine. “I mean, what do Bruce or I have against Vicente? He came to visit you on occasion, but that’s it. We have no quarrel with him.”

  “You might object to the fact that he’s here investigating your intimidation campaign against Luz,” spat Thomas.

  Regina stabbed a finger in his direction. “But it was no secret that Vicente didn’t like you. He didn’t like you even when you and Luz were dating. And she always valued his opinion—maybe even more than the opinion of her parents and brother, probably more than anyone’s opinion except her grandmother’s. Did you think you’d have a better shot with her if her protective cousin were out of the picture? Did you hurt him?”

  Luz swayed on her feet.

  I waddled to her side and guided her to a seat. “Take it easy,” I murmured. “This day has been hard. But he’s going to be fine.”

  “Thank you,” she squeaked. She threaded her fingers together, her knuckles white.

  Thomas shook with red-hot rage. “I. Did. No. Such. Thing,” he hissed, stalking toward the door. “I’m going to find Bruce.”

  The door slammed behind him, and Luz and I stared at each other. There was a long, awkward pause.

  Deliberately, I turned toward Regina. “Are you ready to answer some of my questions now?”

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes.

  Goodness. Did she have to be so unlikable? This woman was going to drive me insane. “Where were you and Bruce today between eleven and noon?”

  “Wait.” She sat up a little straighter. “That’s when Vicente went missing?”

  “Yes . . .” I said slowly. “Why?”

  She paused, then let out a chuckle. “Well, I’ll be darned. I guess that lovestruck idiot really didn’t do it. You’re gonna need to work on some other theories, Little Miss Detective.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  A ding sounded from Regina’s purse. She checked her phone while I scribbled a few more notes. The roaming moth fluttered toward me, and I waved it away.

  “Would you like to unpack that statement a little?” I asked, exasperated. Was this woman incapable of answering even a basic question?

  “Thomas didn’t do it because we can supply his alibi. We were in town at the time,” she said. “On behalf of his new employer, Bruce had an eleven o’clock meeting with Thomas at the Wine Jug—that’s Thomas’s business. Thomas is going to buy a thousand bottles of wine from him, for catering. They were meeting to negotiate the final details.”

  “So why did you go with him?” I asked through gritted teeth. “You don’t work for a winery.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t at the meeting,” she said, “but I did drop Bruce off. Thomas was definitely there—I saw him through the window. Then I went down the street a couple blocks for a manicure.” She held out one hand toward me and pressed the edge of her thumbnail. The neon-green paint smudged, almost imperceptibly. “See? The polish is still tacky. Oh! I have a receipt, too.”

  She opened her purse and gingerly plucked out a slip of paper, then proffered it to me. I took it. It was a receipt for $32 at Star Nail. And it’s dated today at 11:52 a.m.

  “After I checked out, I went back to the Wine Jug.” She rested her chin in her hands. “Bruce and Thomas were just signing the papers. Then Bruce and I left, grabbed lunch at the café—it’s called Darby’s, between the Chocolate Shoppe and the theater. I don’t have a receipt for that, but I’m sure the waitress will remember us. Then we went home.”

  “Where were you when you got Luz’s call?” I asked.

  “Home,” she replied.

  “You got here pretty quick . . .”

  She glowered at me. “We live just down the road. We bought our home specifically to be close to Bruce’s work.” Then she turned her glare on Luz. “Now he commutes forty-five minutes. Not that you care.”

  I scribbled more notes.

  After another ding from her phone, Regina said, “Well, this was a fun chat, but I’ve got to run. My friend Alice wants to grab coffee. She’s picking me up from here. I’ll just wait outside for her. She’ll get such a kick out of my nail polish!” She stood and looped her purse over her shoulder.

  “Wait!” I said. “One last question.”

  She sighed dramatically. “That alibi wasn’t good enough, dear?”

  “I believe your alibi,” I said. “But if Thomas was at the Wine Jug when the power went out and Vicente vanished, you’re right that I might need to find some new suspects. Did you or Bruce tell anyone about the circumstances around your firing? Another vineyard owner, maybe? Anyone who might be Luz’s competition, who might have seen it as an opportunity to run her out of business?”

  She shrugged. “No, not at all. When he was interviewing for jobs, he said he was looking for a better work environment. We complained about it to a couple close friends, but no—no one in the wine industry. People might misunderstand why Bruce did what he did, you know.”

  I paused. “Of course.” They’d kept it a secret out of a sense of self-preservation. They didn’t want the story to get out any more than Luz did—which confirmed what Luz had told me earlier.

  With that, Regina headed out the door, humming a Beach Boys song.

  I let out a low whistle and looked at Luz. “You okay?”

  She nodded slowly, sucking in a deep breath.

  “Any thoughts on what just happened?” I asked. “Did anything about those interactions feel weird to you?”

  She shook her head. “I know Regina came across as combative and shrill, but nothing about it surprised me. She’s like that.”

  “Oh, I thought she seemed nice,” I deadpanned. “Easy to get along with. Fun to talk to. We should all have a dinner party together.”

  That broke the tension. Luz snorted. “And no doubt Thomas seemed . . . controlling isn’t the right word . . .”

  “He seemed like he wasn’t letting you say no, even though he was the one who blew up the relationship.”

  She tilted her head, her lips tightening in a look of annoyance. “That all seemed normal, too. It’s just the way we’ve interacted for the last few months. I keep trying to friend-zone him. The alibis were solid, though, weren’t they?”

  “Assuming they all check out, then yes.” I glanced down at my notepad and shuffled through a few pages. “It means that none of them cut the power today. They could have hired an accomplice, of course.”

  “Wouldn’t that be great?” Luz muttered. “So, what do we do now? We didn’t make any progress toward finding Vicente.”

  “Let’s go upstairs and look for Bruce and your abuela,” I replied. “Maybe Vicente’s come home.”

  We headed out of the wine cave, and I groaned as I climbed the hill in the sweltering heat. I clutched my midsection. You babies aren’t making anything easy.

  But then my thoughts flashed to Jim and to my precious little Laurie, waiting for me at home. Despite everything going on here in Golden, I smiled. It wasn’t easy, being pregnant with twins while building a career as a private investigator—but it was worth it.

  Goodness, I’d only been gone half a day, and already I was homesick for my family! At least working as a PI gave me plenty of time at home—more than continuing in my old career as an office manager would have.

  When we reached the top of the stairs, Luz’s phone rang.

  “Hello?” she answered. “Oh, Fred! Thanks so much for calling me back. Yes . . . nothing?” Disappointment laced her voice. “Yes, I invited Thomas here to see if he’d heard anything. Well, thank you so much for trying.”

  I followed her as she walked toward the front door. Through the big front windows, I caught sight of Fred’s tow truck again.

  Luz hung up and turned toward me with a sigh.

  “Fred’s back?” I asked.

  “After we gave up our search on the golf cart, I texted him and asked if he could help us search as soon as he finished towing that car. He said the driver had called him back and canceled—someone had jumped the car for them, I guess—and he was able to start right away.”

  “But he didn’t find him?” I asked, heart sinking.

  “No. Not so far. He’s still looking. He just ran into Thomas, though, and called to make sure I knew he was on the property.”

  “Why’d you call Fred in? Just curious.”

  With a half smile, she said, “I don’t know. It felt right, I guess. Fred’s the sort of person who’s always willing to lend a helping hand. Driving a tow truck helps with that—he’s always on the road, and often has a few minutes to spare. He always loves talking to people, too.”

  I leaned against the wall. “Do you like him?”

  “Hmm? Romantically, you mean?”

  “Yeah.” One of the twins kicked my kidney, and I suppressed a gasp.

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “Sometimes I think I do, but I haven’t decided yet. He’s only lived here about a year, and the whole town loves him—and his little girl! Julie is the sweetest. Such a smart kid, and as kind and helpful as her dad. She begged to come pick grapes when we were harvesting!”

  “That’s adorable.” I grinned.

  “We do most of our harvesting by machine, of course, but we have a specialty label that we make with hand-picked grapes, so I let her come out and help one day with that section of the vineyard.”

  “Why’d Fred move to Golden, of all places?” I asked.

  “His sister lives here. I think he wanted a mother figure for Julie. Poor baby girl.” Then she managed a little laugh. “Do you want to know something crazy?”

  “Always.”

  “Fred once said something that almost sounded like he’d been a cop once . . . maybe even FBI or something. Then he backpedaled and said he’d misspoken. But I think he was just covering for a story he didn’t want to tell. Or couldn’t tell.”

  My brows knitted together. “If he used to be a cop, why’s he a tow truck driver now?”

  She shrugged. “Mysterious, isn’t it? Part of me wonders if he might be here in some kind of undercover capacity,” she said. “Maybe the tow truck thing is just a way to get to know everyone in town. Gather information for some kind of big operation. Maybe he’s still a fed.”

  “Huh.” I stared out the window at the truck. “Do you think that might have anything to do with the sabotage at the vineyard? Like, maybe he’s investigating the same people who are attacking you?”

  She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t. The sabotage feels personal, somehow. And recent. I think Fred is a mystery for another day. Maybe even for another detective—we won’t have you here in Golden for very long, after all. But I think there might be a mystery there to solve . . . someday.”

  Through the window, I spotted a silver sedan pull up next to Fred’s truck. “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Um . . .” Luz said, squinting. “That looks like Frannie Peterson’s car.” Then she gasped aloud. “Oh! Oh no! I have an appointment with her . . . four minutes ago! With everything that happened this morning, it completely slipped my mind.”

  “An appointment for what?”

  Luz frantically rebraided her hair. “She’s getting married next year, and we’re supplying the wine . . . and she might even pick Castillo’s as her venue. Oh, what do I do? With Vicente missing . . .” She looked at me, wide-eyed.

  “Take a deep breath,” I said. “How important is this meeting?”

  “The Petersons are a big deal in Golden. It’d be huge for us to host the wedding and . . . if we’re about to get some bad press because of the unlabeled wine, this could really help offset that, at least locally.”

  “Are you able to compartmentalize and focus on the meeting?”

  “If I have to,” she said, inhaling sharply. “You can’t successfully run a business like this if you can’t compartmentalize. There’s always something major to worry about.”

  “Take the meeting, then,” I replied. “There’s only so much you as an individual can do in the search for Vicente. I think I might sit down with your abuela and ask her a few questions—see if she’s seen or heard anything suspicious.”

  Luz’s eyes widened. “I really don’t want to worry her.”

  “Since she’s not aware of anything that’s been going on, I think I can phrase my questions in a way that won’t draw too much suspicion.”

  She studied me, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Frannie Peterson is here!” exclaimed a gleeful, elderly voice. A moment later, Gloria appeared from the hallway, a huge grin on her face. “Look, she just arrived! I saw her car pull up from the apartment window! Tell her to come around the back, and I’ll serve you all food on the porch! You, too, Kate.”

  “Abuela, Frannie and I really need to have a meeting about her wed—”

  Gloria waved her hands. “Nonsense, dear. You can meet on the porch, over tapas, just as well as in that stuffy wine cave. I never did see what your abuelo saw in that cave. My porch is much nicer.”

  “Where’s Bruce?” I asked.

  “Oh, he headed out to the vineyard to look for something, so he won’t bother your meeting. He reset the air conditioning—it’s working now, thank God” Gloria replied.

  A slim, dark-haired woman climbed out of the silver sedan and rushed toward the door. Luz grimaced as the doorbell rang.

  “Guess we’re going to be having our meetings together, then,” Luz murmured.

  “It’s okay,” I replied under my breath. “I’m too pregnant to turn down more food. Besides, I’m a professional. I can handle it.”

  “I’m not sure anyone can handle abuela,” Luz whispered, then threw open the door. “Frannie! It’s so good to see you!”

  Frannie looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties, and had one of those smiles that could light up a room. I liked her immediately.

  “I’m so sorry I’m five minutes late!” she exclaimed. “I was talking with a customer at The Nugget and lost track of time.”

  “Don’t worry at all,” replied Luz, glancing up at the clock. “You’re barely late, and I’ve had such a crazy day—to tell you the truth, the time got away from me, too.”

  “Well.” Frannie grinned. “In that case, I’m glad both of us are discombobulated. Abuela! How are you doing?”

  Gloria marched up to Frannie, her face alight, and pulled her into a hug. “This has been the best day, Panchita! So many wonderful people all in one place.”

  When Gloria released her, Frannie reached out to shake my hand. “Hi, I’m Frannie Peterson.”

  “Kate,” I replied, my mind spinning. How to introduce myself? I opted for the cover story we’d given to Gloria—it was less humiliating than being trotted out as Vicente’s fiancée. “I’m so sorry to intrude—I’m here with Luz’s cousin, Vicente Domingo. I—”

  “Where is Vicente?” interjected Gloria, clutching her chest. “He came all this way, and I’ve barely seen him. It’s very unkind to his poor abuela to run off like that. I hope he’s all right.”

  Chapter 9

  Luz stiffened at her abuela’s question.

  “Vicente is taking care of something with his car now,” I said smoothly, grabbing at the first safe excuse that came to mind. Then I glanced at Frannie. “We broke down on the drive up here. It was quite an ordeal.”

  “Oh, that’s why Fred’s here,” said Frannie. “Will he be back at the house later? I’d love to say hi.”

  “He’s . . . helping out with something,” Luz interjected.

  “Well, come on back.” Gloria rested her hand on Frannie’s arm. “You and Luz can have your meeting on the porch, and I’ll whip up some tapas. Are you hungry?”

  “I already ate, but I know better than to say no.” Frannie patted Gloria’s hand. “It’s so good to see you, abuela.”

  Gloria must be the honorary grandmother of the whole town, I thought with a little smile.

  “Well,” said Gloria. “I’ll just do a little fruit plate and a tortilla, then, sí?” The matriarch took the lead, still arm-in-arm with Frannie. Luz and I trailed behind. I snuck a quick look at my phone, hoping I’d missed a reply text from Vicente.

  Still nothing.

  “So,” said Gloria. “Have you thought more about where you’re going to hold the wedding? It would be perfect in the Grape Garden here. Oh! You’ll be such a beautiful bride!”

  “Abuela!” scolded Luz. “It’s her wedding. We must let her make her own decisions.”

  But Frannie didn’t sound bothered. “I’d love to get married here at Castillo’s. Honestly, my biggest hang-up is just that I’m not sure if I want it to be a big to-do or not. I mean, it’s my second marriage.” She glanced back at me. “I eloped to Vegas when I was barely twenty—which was a terrible idea. The marriage was an absolute fiasco. But is it really in good taste to have a fancy wedding for a second marriage?”

  “I think you can do whatever you want,” I said. “It’s your big day.”

  “And why not have a big wedding?” asked Gloria, patting her arm. “You didn’t even have one the first time around. You deserve your day to be la princesa.”

  We arrived at the kitchen, and Gloria waved us all toward the porch. “Go talk, and I will bring food.”

  I clasped my hands. “You’ve worked so hard cooking already. I’d love to help you make the tapas. I could slice the fruit.”

  But Gloria wouldn’t hear of it. “No, no, no, dear. You are almost ready to have babies. You must sit down with Luz and sweet Franita.”

  Almost before I knew what was happening, I was ushered outside to the porch. For a moment, I stared at the sliding glass door. What had just happened? How had Gloria so expertly herded me out of the house? With a shrug, I took a seat on the closest wicker chair.

  Luz smirked at me, one eyebrow half raised.

  Well, you were right, I thought. No one can handle Gloria.

  Though the weather was still hot, it felt pleasant in the shade, especially with the gentle breeze kicked up by the ceiling fan.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Frannie, smiling at me. “I think you were interrupted when you were introducing yourself earlier. It’s Kate, right?”