Killer Among the Vines by Gemma Halliday

Author:Gemma Halliday
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic suspense, comedy, romantic comedy, amateur sleuth, culinary, culinary mystery
Publisher: Gemma Halliday

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Half an hour later, Ava, Eddie, and I pulled off the freeway in my Jeep and into open farmland. And as we pulled onto Carmen's street, I instantly understood how badly she needed money. It was a one lane road, flanked on either side by small, dilapidated homes that looked like they'd originally been constructed for migrant workers who'd picked the grapes in this region by hand. Each dwelling was the same size and shape—little more than a squat square building with a front stoop and a roof—but they were a variety of dull, peeling paint colors, as if several people had tried over the years to cheer them up. Clearly none had succeeded, as every hue of blue, red, yellow, and even pale pink was dull and dingy in a way that said it had been years since anything had looked cheery here.

Carmen's number was halfway down the block, on a house that was part burgundy and part grey, just depending on how much of the old paint colors had been exposed in places. The cement stoop was cracked, the roof missing a few tiles in front, and the grass long ago dried and given way to hard packed dirt. A flowerpot sat to one side under a closed window, though the only thing planted in it was a couple of dead sticks and a faded flag that said Happy Thanksgiving. It was spring. Clearly Carmen had given up on décor as well. From the faded looks of it, the flag could have been there since last fall or Thanksgiving 1998.

I parked next to the patch of dead grass on the right side of the road and got out of my Jeep, locking the doors after Ava and Eddie did the same.

"This is depressing," Eddie said, eyeing the building.

"No car in the driveway," Ava noted, nodding to the left of the building. Though "driveway" might have been overstating it a bit. There was a patch of dirt at the side of the building, where a shiny black puddle of oil indicated a car had recently sat.

Ava led the way to the front door and rapped hard enough that I feared the faded wood might split in two.

I strained to listen, but no sign of life came back to us. No footsteps, no TV blaring, no shift of fabric as someone moved to peek out the peep hole.

Ava tried again for good measure, knocking loudly as I stepped to the left and peered in the window. Not that I could see much. The curtains were drawn so that only a sliver of the room was visible between them. I could make out a sofa, a coffee table, and a rug on the floor. No lights on. No movement.

"I don't think she's here," Eddie decided, coming to stand next to me. He squinted, pressing his pudgy face close to the window. "See anything?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"Which means she's clearly not home sick," Ava said, giving me a pointed look.

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