D is for Drunk (4 page)

She remembered the handcuffs and shook her sleeves down to cover them. Aidan grinned wickedly, and she kicked the back of his leg where no one could see.

CHAPTER 4

^“
M 
r. and Mrs. Grigoryan, please come in!” Brendan hurried over and shook their hands.

Aidan shook their hands, too, and Sofia stayed behind Aidan and nodded. She couldn’t exactly shake their hands in handcuffs.

Brendan shot her a puzzled look and led everyone into the office. Mr. and Mrs. Grigoryan got the couch, while Aidan herded Sofia into the chair. He stood guard behind her like an annoying sentry. She hoped he’d drop the handcuff key into her hand, but suspected that was destined to remain an unfulfilled hope.

“Would you care for anything, Mr. and Mrs. Grigoryan? Water? Coffee? Soda?”

“Maybe some water.” Mrs. Grigoryan cleared her throat.

Sofia stood up. She could go to get the water, get the cuffs off, and come back with nobody the wiser. “I’ll get it.”

“On my desk,” Aidan mouthed where his father couldn’t see. He must mean the handcuff keys.

“Never mind,” Mrs. Grigoryan said. “I’d rather we get started.”

“Fine. Let’s do that,” said Brendan. He looked at Sofia. “You can sit back down.”

She sat back down, folded her hands together in her lap, and tried to act as if nothing was wrong. She still had the bobby pin. She could do this during the interview. It would be a good test for how she performed under stress. Or a good chance to look like a fool in front of clients and Brendan.

“I understand you’ve been having some problems with your neighbor?” Brendan asked.

“Problems?” Mr. Grigoryan rolled his bright blue eyes heavenward. “Vandalism is more like it.”

“Oh?” Brendan asked.

“I have a convertible. A Mercedes. A very nice car.” Mr. Grigoryan looked at Sofia, Aidan, and Brendan in turn, as if it was important they remember this.

“I see,” Sofia said, although she didn’t really see anything. But she wanted him to look away so she could get to work on the handcuffs.

“That’s not why we’re here.” His wife’s words were so soft Sofia strained to hear her. Brendan leaned forward.

“We’re here because he is stealing from me,” Mr. Grigoryan said. “And damaging my property. And harassing us.”

“Those are serious charges,” Brendan said. “Perhaps you’d be better served talking to the police?”

Sofia’s hand crept up to the top of the handcuff. She was almost to the keyhole. Or at least she hoped so. She couldn’t see the lock because her sleeve covered it. Mrs. Grigoryan started staring at her, round eyes curious.

“I have. Of course I have. But they say there is no proof anything has been stolen.”

Aidan leaned against the edge of her chair, partially blocking Mrs. Grigoryan’s view. She could tell he felt at least a little guilty about the mess she was in. Good. She felt around for the keyhole with her fingertip. It was hard to find by feel.

“What do you think is being stolen?” Brendan asked.

“Water,” Mr. Grigoryan trumpeted. “He’s stealing my water.”

“Perfect case for you, Sofia,” Aidan said. “A case about holding your water.”

Sofia busted out the biggest, fakest smile she could muster. He was making a veiled reference to an incident on stakeout a while ago where she’d had to pee next to her car because he wouldn’t let her take a bathroom break. She’d been caught by paparazzi, and the video had gone viral. She still hadn’t paid him back for that. She mentally added it to her list of things she still needed to get even with Aidan for. The list was really long, and growing.

Brendan gave Aidan a warning look. “What do you mean, stealing your water?”

“I own a winery here in Malibu.” Mr. Grigoryan puffed up like a peacock. “It’s very fine wine, made to the best Armenian standards. Wine has been made in Armenia for thousands of years. We are part of a long tradition.”

Mrs. Grigoryan leaned around Aidan to look at Sofia’s lap. She smiled, and Sofia froze. The bobby pin scraped off to the side.

“My neighbor, Marcel Befort, he has a winery too. French swill is what he sells.”

Mrs. Grigoryan shook her head. She didn’t seem to agree with her husband.

“We use a great deal of water for the grapes, of course. My water bill is criminally high, always, but a few months ago my bill went up ten percent. I called the water company and they came to check the meter. They say I’m using ten percent as much water, so they must charge me for it.”

Sofia inched her finger back into position.

“Maybe there’s a leak?” Brendan asked. “Or you’re increased consumption? Ten percent isn’t a huge amount.”

“The water company says that, too, but there is no leak. A leak I would see. Marcel is stealing my water. He’s a bad man, and he’s stealing my water!” Mr. Grigoryan’s voice rose on the last words.

“You don’t know this.” His wife patted his hand.

“I do know! And I want you people to find out, to prove that this is what is happening. Then I’ll take him to jail. Marcel will have to sit in a tiny, smelly jail cell, and he will think of what he has done to me. To us.”

“Neighbor disputes can be difficult.” Brendan used his calming voice, the one that usually put everyone around him into a coma. But it didn’t seem to be working on Mr. Grigoryan. “It’s often problematic to live next to someone, and grievances can build up over time.”

“They do.” Mr. Grigoryan jutted out his jaw.

“I’ve found the best thing to do is to try to de-escalate the situation, find a way compromises can be reached, so neighborly feelings can come back.” Brendan was still acting like a Zen master.

“I don’t want his feelings to come back. I want him to stop stealing my water, and to go to jail for what he has done. That is what I want.”

Brendan folded his hands. “I understand how difficult it must be, but it’s best to avoid conflict if you can. Neighborhood fights rarely end well.”

“Good.” Mr. Grigoryan glared at Brendan.

Sofia had been so taken in by their discussion she’d forgotten to work on getting herself free. Brendan was usually a pretty calm guy, but it seemed as if he was telling this guy to forget it and let his neighbor steal from him. That wasn’t right.

“It’s many dollars every month,” Mr. Grigoryan said. “I won’t walk away from this.”

Aidan circled around to stand by his father. “What makes you think this is Mr. Befort’s fault and not a leaky pipe? Or a glitch with the water company? Or another neighbor?”

“I’ve told you. I looked for leaks. I spoke to the water company. That isn’t the problem. Mr. Befort is the problem.”

She felt the bobby pin catch the lever. She held her breath. Mrs. Grigoryan was watching her, but she didn’t care. She had to get the cuffs off before everyone left. She’d have to shake hands good-bye or Brendan would notice.

“What about other neighbors?” Aidan asked loudly. He must be trying to cover the noise of the handcuff unlatching.

“Our properties join up in a triangle. Me, I’m not using more water than usual. Our neighbor on the other side, Rick, his property is running wild since his wife died. He doesn’t need my water. Only Marcel does.”

So, the water rustlers were Rick and Marcel. The handcuffs opened with a click. She coughed too late to disguise the sound, but she was committed now. She leaned forward to hide what she was doing, let loose with another round of coughs, and slid the handcuffs into the chair cushion.

“Is she OK?” Mrs. Grigoryan asked. “Is she one of the detectives, or is she a prisoner?”

“A prisoner?” Brendan asked.

“Because she is handcuffed.”

“Handcuffed?” Sofia held her handcuff-free arms up. “I’m fine.”

Mrs. Grigoryan had a knowing smile. “I see how it is.”

Brendan looked between the two of them.

Sofia tried to put the attention somewhere else. “So, Mr. Grigoryan, the case you are offering us is to look for your missing water?”

“And to make Marcel choke on it.” He smiled.

“We’ll look into it and get back to you by the end of the day,” Brendan said.

He rose to his feet and ushered them out of his office.

Mrs. Grigoryan stayed behind. She patted Sofia on the arm. “You are a clever girl.”

“Clever?” Sofia asked.

Mrs. Grigoryan laughed. The sound was much too big for her little round figure, full of mischief and knowing. “And maybe a little bit naughty?”

Brendan was ahead of them, talking to Mr. Grigoryan in his soothing voice, clearly trying to calm him down and have him stop worrying about his neighbor. Mr. Grigoryan handed him a folder.

“These are my water bills,” he said. “See them for yourself.”

“I will,” Brendan promised. “And we will call you later. But please remember what I said about keeping a cool head.”

Everyone shook hands with everyone, Sofia shaking hands a little more vigorously than usual to make up for not shaking hands when everyone came in.

Mrs. Grigoryan held her hand for a long moment and smiled. It was more than a little creepy.

CHAPTER 5

T  
he door had barely closed behind them when Aidan spoke. “We have to take that case, Dad.”

“Neighbor cases are trouble, you know that. How many times were you called out on them when you were on the force?” Brendan folded his arms. “I saw my first kid shot on a neighbor beef.”

“Really?” Sofia asked.

“One neighbor had a dog that always barked. The other neighbor stormed over to shoot the dog, missed and hit the kid. He ended up in a wheelchair, and the guy who shot him wanted to go back for the dog.”

“Yikes.” She was feeling grateful for her sheltered upbringing. None of their neighbors ever shot at them.

“Fighting neighbors are a lot like a domestic dispute in a lot of ways,” he said. “Volatile.”

“They’re a mess, I agree,” Aidan said. “And if we had anything better to work on, I’d say we shouldn’t take one, but we don’t. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“It’s a slump,” Brendan said. “Businesses go through slumps.”

Sofia hadn’t been too worried about the recent slowdown at work. Now, she was.

“We can’t be so picky,” Aidan said. “Not if we want to keep paying rent.”

“And expensive car payments?” Brendan asked.

“The Lemon Drop isn’t that expensive,” Aidan said. “I got a deal.”

“You named your car?” Sofia said. “The Lemon Drop?”

“What’s your car called? Herbie?”

“Herbie is white,” she said. “My car is red. And it’s called a Tesla Roadster. It doesn’t need a name, because it’s not a pet.”

Although she was now trying to think up a cool name for it. Wonder Woman’s plane was called the Wonder Dome. She liked the sound of that, but she was pretty sure Aidan could get a lot of mileage out of it. Maybe she ought to call it Christine, after the car in the Stephen King novel. She was red. And Christine would eat a car named Lemon Drop for a tasty snack.

“What was going on with you during the interview?” Brendan turned his scowling cop eyes on her.

“Nothing?” She didn’t like lying to him.

“This isn’t about Sofia being fidgety.” Aidan came to her rescue. “This is about us taking on a new case. The guy’s loaded. Did you see his suit? Plus the Mercedes and the vineyard. He can pay our fees.”

“This kind of situation can turn ugly,” Brendan said. “Best to calm things down, not rile them up.”

“Let’s look through his bills, talk to the water company. Maybe we can find a peaceful solution, leave everyone happy,” Aidan said. “It doesn’t have to get volatile.”

She had a feeling Mr. Grigoryan was angry about something that ran deeper than the water, but she didn’t say anything. Something about Mrs. Grigoryan had her on edge.

“I’ll look into it,” Brendan said. “See if there’s anything easy we can do, and we’ll go from there.”

That was his my-word-is-law voice. She wasn’t going to argue with that. Aidan looked like he wanted to, but before he could get started, Brendan said, “I’d like you to use the free time you’ve been telling me about to upgrade the software on the office computers, get the printer serviced.”

Aidan hated doing that kind of stuff. Sofia stifled a smile.

“And I’d like you to go over the case reports for the past six months, Sofia,” Brendan said. “See if you can learn something about procedure.”

He swept back into his office and closed the door. He sure wasn’t happy about the prospect of having to take this particular case.

She made a mental list while she was supposed to be reading the reports. It was called ‘Reasons Why Brendan is So Crabby.’

1. Because he’d seen a neighbor dispute turn into a bloodbath.
   
2. Because the agency really was running low on money, and he’d have to let them all go, starting with her.
   
3. Because his underwear was too tight.
   

CHAPTER 6

S
ofia looked around at her sister’s immaculate kitchen. Emily was making spaghetti and meatballs, and a giant pot of spaghetti sauce simmered on the stove. It smelled like heaven.

“I’d love a glass of wine,” Sofia told her sister as she snuck a spoonful of sauce out of the pot. The sauce tasted even better than it smelled—tomato, basil, oregano, and a bunch of mystery spices only Emily knew. “A big one.”

Emily took the spoon off her and put it in the sink. “Rough day at work?”

She thought about her really rough days at work—when people kidnapped her, shot at her, or humiliated her in public. “Even worse. A boring one. But the morning was good.”

Emily poured her a glass of red and handed it to her. “Tell me about your morning. I had to start off talking to Van’s teacher because he took apart the sprinkler system and flooded the classroom.”