Microphones and Murder Page 11
“My pleasure! Should we get started?” Sandy stood and placed a menu in front of each of us. Which was great, because I was starving. Except the only thing on there was wine. “I’ll first need to see IDs.” She specifically looked at me.
I gave my license to Oliver so he could give it to her. He read it before passing it on, which was quite rude. I had my real weight on there. “You’re twenty-seven!” he said loud enough for the whole town to hear. “I thought you were nineteen until Hazel said we were going wine tasting then I figured you were twenty-one.”
“Nope, I’m twenty-seven. Well acquainted with the ‘real world.’” I hooked my fingers into quotes.
Oliver made a fist, placed it on his chest and rotated it clockwise. The sign for sorry. It felt more sincere in ASL. “I thought you were two kids doing an amateur podcast because they’re popular right now. I had no idea you were so old.”
“Thanks. I’m younger than you.” I was guessing. He looked around early- to mid-thirties.
“You know what I mean.”
Yes, I did.
“I’m a professional sound engineer. I know what I’m doing.” Which was kind of true. “I have a lot riding on this.” Which was very true.
Oliver shifted around and put his arm on the back of the booth. I caught a whiff of his cologne. A citrus, leathery combination with a hint of ocean and, without warning, my stomach fluttered—traitor.
“I misjudged the situation and I’m sorry. Forgive me?” he said without signing.
“I suppose.” Like I had a choice when he was batting those baby blues and flashing his dimpled right cheek at me.
Sandy passed our licenses back down the line.
“We’ll bring your first tasting by shortly,” she said. “If you have any questions please let me know, and feel free to record whatever you’d like in here! Thank you again for coming in,” she said this directly to Camry.
Oliver tapped my shoulder. “I couldn’t read her lips. What did she say to Camry?”
“She said, ‘Thank you for coming in.’ Why?”
“She’s hiding something.”
“Who? Sandy?”
“No Camry.”
“How do you know?”
“I can tell by her face.”
Camry banged the table. “No secret language.”
“It’s not secret, it’s ASL,” Hazel said and signed. “You should learn.”
“What are you hiding?” I said to Camry.
“Pffft, what? I’m not hiding anything, why would you say that?”
“Because I can tell,” said Oliver. “Your nostrils flare when you’re not being truthful.”
She covered her nose. “So you lose your hearing and gain super powers like Daredevil?”
“Daredevil lost his sight not hearing,” Hazel added.
Camry held up her palms. “Sorry, I am not proficient in DC comic books.”
“Daredevil is Marvel, dear.” Hazel tapped Camry’s hand.
We all looked at Hazel.
“What?” She shrugged. “I like comic books. Who doesn’t?”
“Really?” Camry dropped her chin into her palm. “Which superhero is your favorite? I personally enjoy Thor.”
“No, no, no.” I waved my hand. “Spill it.”
“Fine,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I may have given myself the title of producer of advertising and media relationships when I asked what we should do tonight. Hoping a local business would offer their services for free, which they did! So we’ll mention them on the podcast or put it on our website.” She spit the last sentence out so fast I almost didn’t hear her right.
Almost.
I nearly leapt over the table. “I am not going to promote any local business!”
“Calm down,” she drew out the words and rolled her eyes. “This is a great way to supplement your income until you get an advertiser.”
“I can’t supplement my income with wine.” I was furious.
“No!” Now Camry was furious. “But other businesses will hear about this and want to advertise. What’s it going to hurt if you mention it on your podcast or put it on your website?”
“Because I have no clue who hurt Amelia! It could be the owner of this winery, or the owner of a local restaurant, or the person who runs the floral shop. The point is we have no idea. If I take money from a local business, and that person ends up being involved, I ruin the credibility of the podcast. I paid for a hosting site, and they find sponsors. Chances are we won’t have a sponsor until a few episodes have been released. That’s how it works!”
Camry opened her mouth, about to say what, I’ll never know; Sandy cut her off when she returned with wine glasses. She placed a sheet in front of us. Everyone began to read but I was too mad to look.
“We’re going to start with the white.” She set the glasses down.
I downed the wine. Tasted like sour grape juice. Next.
“So, um, actually we’re going to examine it first,” said Sandy.
Oh. I thought the point of this was to taste the wine?
Whatever.
“I’ll pour you another.” Sandy snapped her fingers and the man to her side poured a small amount into my glass. I examined it through the glass. It was cream in color and smelled like grapes. Next.
My knowledge grew as the night went on. By the time we reached the reds, I was practically a sommelier-er.
“This smells like winter and puppies!” I held up my glass. “Cheers!”
Everyone tapped their glasses to mine. I sipped it oh-so-eloquently except I felt it dribble down my chin. “This glass has a hole in it.”
“Why don’t you have a cracker?” Oliver pushed the tray my way. “Like all of them.”
“You’re so kind.” I took one and attempted a bite, but I missed my mouth. The darn table was wobbly. I tried again and made it that time. Yayz me. I felt quite pride of myself...I mean... prouderered...prouderer...prided?
“Oh you sweet thing, you must not drink often,” Hazel said.
I stared at her fuzzy face and said, “Huh?”
She patted my hand. “Have another cracker.”
“No thanks.” I pushed the tray aside. “Those taste like salt-less saltinesess.”
“I think they’re supposed to cleanse the pallet,” said Camry while inspecting the offending cracker.
“Here’s the thing,” I said, except I didn’t know what the thing was. My head felt spiny-y. Get a grip, Liv.
I opened my eyes and mouth real wide.
This was me getting a grip.
“What is she doing?” I heard Hazel say.
“I think she’s trying to sober up,” said Oliver or Camry or maybe Sandy. Everyone sounded similar and happy.
Turned out if you really liked the wine, they’d pour you a whole glass! I loved all the wine! I was happy, too. There was laughter. There was more sipping. There was more sniffing. There was more laughing. I had found my oomph and it was called Pinot de-blah-blah.
Something happened because we were suddenly outside. The cool air felt good against my skin. I swayed to the music, not that there was any music playing. It was the music in my heart. And I was fairly certain I was saying all this out loud.
“You are,” said Camry. “You’ve been narrating us the whole time. World building.”
“Have I really? I said. Camry stared at me with an incredulous look on her face. I think she’s amused.”
“I am.”
The Suburban rolled up and we all piled in. I bonked my head on the door and rammed my knee into the center console. Oliver buckled my seatbelt for me. “You’re such a nice person.” I squished his cheeks together. “And cute, don’t you think he’s cute?” I asked the driver. “It’s okay if I say so because we’re not real cousins. We’re fake cousins.”
r /> The driver didn’t respond.
Well then.
We drove home. There was a bush. Some stairs. My pillow and...
Episode Eleven
Guest Parking
It felt like an elephant was sitting on my face.
“You, my dear sister, cannot hold your liquor.” Camry placed two aspirin and a cup of water on my nightstand. “You were about ten sheets to the wind before we finished the white wines.”
“Don’t mention wine.” I tossed the aspirin into my mouth and chugged the water. “Yuck. Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes. Don’t you ever drink?”
I pulled the pillow over my head and fell back on the bed. “I got drunk on my twenty-first birthday and swore I’d never do it again.” Now I could remember why. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost noon.”
“What!” I attempted to jolt out of bed but lacked the luster to do so. I rolled to a forty-five-degree angle and cradled my head. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I tried three times.” Camry pulled my hair back into a makeshift ponytail at the nape of my neck. This sparked a memory. She did this last night while I puked in the bushes.
“Ugh. I remember talking to Sandy, the first wine and...not much else,” I groaned.
“Don’t worry. You recorded everything.”
Why, oh, why did I agree to go wine tasting? I didn’t like wine. I didn’t like drinking. I didn’t like feeling like a fifteen-ton elephant was sitting on my head. I liked to read, and work, and listen to podcasts, and...and...gah!
Oh no!
I was struck with a horrifying thought. “What if someone took a video of me drunk and posts it to YouTube?”
“Don’t worry. Oliver insisted we take you home when you became too loose.”
I was scared to ask. “What was I doing?”
“Making out with him.”
This was getting worse by the minute. “Ahhh! Where are my clothes?” I was in a bra and underwear. And not even my own underwear! These were red and said, “Kiss the Bride” on the front. And...what the heck? “Are these made of licorice?”
“Yep.”
“Tell me I didn’t get married.”
“Oh please, you think I’d let that happen? There was a bachelorette party at the next table, and you were chatting it up with the bride-to-be. One thing led to another and you ended up with this underwear. You might also be a bridesmaid.”
I didn’t want to know what one-thing-led-another meant. What I want to know was, “Why am I naked?”
“Random fact about drunk Liv: she likes to strip.”
Oh no.
“But don’t worry, you didn’t strip until we got in the house.”
I covered my face with both hands. “Please, please, please tell me it was just you and me in here.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Camry dropped my hair and sat crisscross on her own bed. “Liv, you are a super fun drinking buddy. We should do it again.”
“Never.” I stood and spun in a small circle, looking for pants and found them under the bed with my underwear still inside of them. “We have so much to do.” I wiggled into my clothes. “We need to try Janet again. Go to Amelia’s old high school. Record Hazel. Find a park ranger.”
“And meet Detective LeClare,” Camry said.
“Huh?”
“She called while you were passed out. We’re meeting her at three.”
Detective LeClare called me. This was good. This was really good! “I’m so glad you answered my phone.”
Camry twisted her hair up into a knot on the top of her head. “See, I can handle things when you’re incapacitated like the good peon I am.” Her right nostril flared with each word and a memory from last night crept into my sloshy brain.
Crap. Flaring nostrils meant she was lying.
“Camry, what did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Don’t be mad,” Camry blurted out in a panic.
“Is this about the sponsorship?”
“Errr...no. You don’t have to worry about the advertising agreement we made. Oliver told Sandy that it’s against company policy to accept freebies from locals and went ahead and paid the tab. And it was a big tab. You drank a lot. That’s when you made out with him.”
This sparked another memory. A horrible one. I’d thrown myself on Oliver while he worked hard to get me off, insisting we shouldn’t do this while his grandma was watching. That’s when I asked for the edible underwear.
Oh hell.
This is the penance I pay for drinking on the job. That, and this monstrous headache. It felt like little construction workers were behind my eyeballs jackhammering my retinas.
I need to sit down.
So I did.
I took a seat on the floor and put my elbows on knees, and my head in hands.
Camry sat beside me. “I have something to tell you.”
“It’s going to make me mad, isn’t it?” I muttered.
“Yes, but wait until I’m done before you blow up.”
“No promises.” Lucky for her, I didn’t have the energy required to blow up.
Camry rummaged around in Leon’s box then placed the picture of Amelia’s car on the ground between my legs for me to see. “There’s a small green note on the dashboard. Do you see it?”
I squinted. “No.”
“How about now?” She placed a magnify glass over the picture and I could see a citation from Santa Maria Way Apartments: Guest parking is reserved for visitors only. Please park your vehicle in your assigned space or risk being towed.
“Remember how close her parking spot was to her apartment?” asked Camry.
I let go of my head and grabbed the picture to get a better look. I went crossed-eyed until I could see the date. “This says October 10.”
“Mmhmm. While you were passed out, I drove to Santa Maria Way Apartments and took a picture of where the guest parking is located. Liv, it’s on the other side of the building. Amelia’s spot was right next to her apartment. There’s no reason she would park her car there unless her spot was filled. Right?”
“Where are you going with this?” My brain was still drunk.
“I spoke to the manager and he said tenants will park their cars in the guest spots early, and leave their assigned spots open for a guest to come later.” Camry rose up to her knee, like she was about to propose to me. “Which means Amelia probably had a guest on October 10. And according to the manager, the spaces fill up quickly at night. So whoever visited her, probably did it that night!”
“Did you happen to bring my recorder with you?”
“Obviously.”
“Camry, this is great why would I be mad?”
“Errr...’cause it’s not the only thing I did this morning.” She twisted a dark strand of hair between her fingers, stalling.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“You were out a really long time.”
“What did you do?”
“Funny thing, really.” She grabbed her iPad and hugged it to her chest. “I accidentally hacked into HJZoomers22 YouTube account, found his email, and hacked into it, too.”
“How do you accidentally hack into someone’s account?”
“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. His password was the same for both YouTube and Gmail.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“And his recovery question was easy too. What was your high school mascot? There are only so many high schools in the area. And, honestly, what does it matter? He’s dead. It’s not like he’s going to care who’s reading his emails.”
“But—”
She held her finger up to my mouth to shush me. “Hear me out before you get mad.”
/>
“Too late.”
“So maybe Blake Kirkland took this video, but he didn’t post it on YouTube. The account was created on October 3. The email linked to the account is also HJZoomer22, and it hasn’t been used since October 4, but I was still able to get in.” She smiled, proud of herself. “There was a lot of spam and notifications from YouTube. Someone created this fake email and a fake YouTube account to post the video.”
“How do you know for sure it’s fake?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Camry turned her iPad around. On the screen was a Gmail inbox. “I found this email. Read it.”
It was a long exchange. I started at the bottom and read to the top.
From: BKirkland@DirectDental
To: Scottydog00
Subject: You know her?
What up? I’m doing the audio and video for the Gala tonight and one of the SM employees just tripped and sucker punched the CFO during Mike Cromer’s opening speech! Caught the whole thing on video. Remind me to show next time I see you. You coming up for Farmer’s Market next week?
R.B. Kirkland
Media Relations
Direct Dental, Inc.
From: Scottydog00
To: BKirkland@DirectDental
Subject: Re: You know her?
OMG! No way. The only employee there is Millie Clark. Send the video to me now! I have to see this.
From: BKirkland@DirectDental
To: Scottydog00
Subject: Re: Re: You know her? <
Here it is. But don’t show anyone.
From: Scottydog00
To: BKirkland@DirectDental
Of course I won’t!
From: Scottydog00
To: HJZommer22
Subject Fw: You know her? <
“Blake Kirkland took the video but had no intention of posting it,” I said, re-reading the emails over again. “He sent it to Scottydog00, and he sent it to HJZommer22. If HJZommer22 isn’t Blake Kirkland, then who is?”
“Scottydog is! That’s the recovery email address used to create HJZoomer22. So Scottydog00 worked for Direct Dental, knew Millie, and knew Blake Kirkland. He created the fake account so he could post it to YouTube just to humiliate Amelia.”