The Chardonnay Charade (Wine Country Mystery) by Ellen Crosby

Author:Ellen Crosby [Crosby, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2011-01-16T23:36:15.243000+00:00

"No, I won't." She banged down the last few stairs in the high heels and then across the foyer, long-legged as a colt, ponytail bouncing like an angry exclamation mark.

"Hey!" I cal ed. "Are you coming home tonight? Or are you stil sleeping over at Abby Lang's?"

She spun around. "I'm not sleeping at Abby's, that's for sure. Neither is she. I don't know what we're doing tonight."

I stared at my sister. That last remark sounded more desperate than threatening. She meant it that she real y didn't know what she was doing. Kind of a leitmotif for her life right now. But it would probably be whatever came easiest in the heat of a what-the-hel night.

"Come home, Mimi," I said gently. "Please?"

She seemed to waver. "I don't know. I'l see. Anyway, we've got plenty of places to stay."

"Why isn't Abby sleeping at her house anymore?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "Because her dad is so total y flipped out about the cops showing up and asking him about Georgia Greenwood. And he's, like, going nuts because he wants to get nominated to be vice president. Abby's going to the convention in San Francisco and she might take time off from school to campaign with him. She says it wil be so cool." She splayed her feet sideways like a young girl would do and it made her seem infinitely more vulnerable. "But this Georgia stuff could wreck everything if it gets out about him being with her the night she was murdered."

"Are you saying Georgia was sleeping with Abby's dad?"

Mia looked disgusted. "God, no. He didn't even like her."

"Then why did he support her campaign?"

"I dunno. Why don't you ask him?" She pul ed out her mobile phone from a tiny purse and looked at the display. "It's five-thirty already. I gotta go.

See you maybe tomorrow."

"Please be careful with the drinking. The next time you get caught--"

"Lucie," she said impatiently, "give it a rest. I have no intention of getting caught again. 'Bye."

The door slammed and I heard her car engine start a moment later.

It wasn't until I was standing in the shower with the water sluicing over me that I thought again about what she meant by that last remark. She wasn't going to stop drinking.

She just wasn't going to get caught when she did.

I was surprised to see Bonita setting wineglasses on the bar when I arrived at the vil a. The col ege-kid outfit she had on this morning when I first saw her had been replaced by an elegant black and white knit top, cropped black pants, and slingbacks. She'd pul ed her hair back in a loose knot and wore a light floral scent. Altogether, she looked lovely and very sophisticated.

"Thanks for setting up," I said. "Where's Quinn?"

"At his place. I saw his car as I drove by. I figured I should get here, you know, a little early. Quinn's so busy now that he's working two jobs. You guys need me more than you thought.

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