The Villa

pants. "Nobody."
     
    They found similar messages on the bureau mirrors in Pilar's and Tereza's rooms. But they didn't find Kris Drake.
    " There must be something else we can do."
    Sophia wiped furiously at the letters smearing her mirror. The local police had responded, taken statements, examined the vandalism. And had told her nothing she hadn't concluded for herself. Someone had entered each bedroom, left an ugly little message written in red lipstick on the glass. And had knocked her down.
    "There's nothing else we can do tonight." Tyler took her wrist, drew her hand down. "I'll take care of that."
    "It was addressed to me." But she threw the rag down in disgust.
    "The cops are going to question her, Sophie."
    "And I'm sure she'll tell them she waltzed in here, scrawled this love note and knocked me down." She let out a sound of frustration, then clamped her teeth down on it. "Doesn't matter. The police may not be able to prove she did this, but I know she did. And sooner or later, I'll make her pay for it."
    "And I'll hold your coat. In the meantime, go to bed."
    "I can't sleep now."
    He took her hand, led her to the bed. She was still in her clothes, and he wore his shirt and tuxedo pants. He eased onto the bed with her, pulled up the blanket.
    "Try."
    She lay still a moment, amazed when he made no move to touch her, to seduce, to take. He reached over, turned out the light.
    "Ty?"
    "Hmmm."
    "It doesn't hurt as much when you hold me."
    "Good. Go to sleep."
    And settling her head on his shoulder, she was able to do as he asked.
     
    Claremont stretched back in his chair as Maguire read the incident report. "So, what do you think?"
    "The youngest Ms. Giambelli gets knocked down, banged up a little. All three of them receive an unpleasant message that smudges up their mirrors. On the surface?" she said, tossing the paperwork back on his desk. "Looks like a prank. A female one."
    "And under the surface?"
    "Sophia G wasn't hurt badly, but if it had been her grandmother who walked in at the wrong time, it could have been a lot more serious. Old bones break easier. And from the timeline the locals were able to put together, she was lying out there in the night chill for at least fifteen, twenty minutes. Very unpleasant. Might've been longer if our young hunk hadn't gone hunting for her. So we have a mean prank, and somebody who's doing whatever's handy to needle them."
    "And from the youngest Giambelli's statement, Kristin Drake fits the bill."
    "She's denied it, vehemently," Maguire countered, but they both knew she was playing devil's advocate. "Nobody can place her in that part of the house during the evening. No handy fingerprints to tie her in."
    "Sophia G's lying about it? Mistaken?"
    "I don't think so." Maguire pursed her lips. "No point in lying about it, and she doesn't strike me as a woman who does anything without a point. Careful, too. She wouldn't accuse unless she was sure. The Drake woman took a slap at her. It may be as simple as that. Or it may be a lot more."
    "It bothers me. If we have somebody who's gone to the time, trouble, the risk, to taint wine, somebody who was willing to kill, why would that person bother with something as petty as a message on a mirror?"
    "We don't know it's the same person."
    Links clicking onto links. That's the way he saw it. "Hypothetically, using a vendetta against the Giambellis to connect."
    "To kick at them, then. Gonna throw a big party, are you? Want to pretend everything's getting back to normal? Take this."
    "Maybe. Drake's a connection. She worked for the company, she had an affair with Avano. If she's pissed enough to've caused the trouble at the party, she might've been pissed enough to put a couple bullets in a lover."
    "Ex-lover, according to her statement." She frowned. "Frankly, partner, she was a dead end before, and I don't see this little sneak attack pinning her to the Avano homicide. Different styles."
    "It's interesting though, isn't it? The Giambellis go for years, decades, without any substantial trouble. In the past few months, they've had nothing but. It's interesting."
     
    Tyler paced outside with the phone. The house seemed too small when he was talking to his father. California seemed too small when he was talking to his father.
    Not that he was doing any talking at the moment, just listening to the usual gripes and complaints.
    He let them run through his head. The country club was rife with gossip and black humor involving him. His current