friend who knew me so well—and hung out with me anyway.
"Well, if Hector says not to worry, then I don't think you should. After all, he's the expert."
"Are you trying to say I don't know what I'm talking about?" I teased.
She gave a look of mock innocence as she scooped a chicken enchilada smothered in Authentic Mole Sauce onto her plate. "Not me. I like free wine."
I laughed. The Sirah was definitely kicking in. Plus the glass of Pinot Grigio from earlier. Plus the ice cream sugar rush. "Well, I'll just be happy if we can make payroll and enough to cover the cost of a new fence."
"Deer breaking in again?" Ava asked. Having grown up in Wine Country, Ava knew as well as I did what a constant problem they were.
I nodded. "Set off the motion sensors the other night. Hopefully Hector can fend them off long enough to harvest and get some better barricades up before planting season."
"We could always call my dad," Ava offered. "He's got a twelve gauge."
"Ava!" I shot her a look. "I am not shooting Bambi's mom."
She laughed. "I was kidding! Come on, you know I cry at Disney movies too." She glanced at my T-shirt. "Nice outfit by the way."
I shrugged. "I'm going casual chic."
"Well, you've got the casual at any rate." She shot me another joking grin before shoving a bite of enchilada into her mouth.
We chewed in silence for a moment, each of us enjoying the mingling sweet spices and warm chilies mixed with the deep, rich chocolate flavor that created a complicated mole. Finally Ava broke it, putting down her fork and grabbing her wineglass again. "You know, I've been thinking about something that Costello said."
"Oh?" I licked dark, rich sauce off my fork. "About what?"
"About Daisy Dot." She sipped from her wineglass. "When he accused her of stealing his design for those cutouts in her dresses."
"I'm not sure we should take anything he says about Daisy too seriously. The man clearly hates her."
Ava nodded. "Right. And her him. But, I'm wondering, what if it was true?"
I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a napkin. "What are you thinking?"
"Well, Daisy was right that someone did steal her rubies. It wasn't Costello, but it was one of his models, so she wasn't too far off the mark."
I nodded. "True."
"What if Costello was right, too?" she asked. "What if Daisy actually did get ahold of some of his early sketches and go public with the design first?"
"But how would she get the sketches?" I asked. "I mean, it's not like Costello would invite Daisy over to his workroom."
"Noooo," Ava said, drawing out the word. "But as his lead model, Gia was in there all the time."
I paused, bite of enchilada midway to my mouth. "You think Gia stole the design?"
Ava shrugged. "We've learned she'd do just about anything for money. She stole jewelry, and she blackmailed Costello."
"And she had no loyalty to Costello," I said, thinking it through as I shoved the bite into my mouth and chewed. "Actually, I totally see Gia doing it."
Ava nodded, leaning forward in her chair. "She could have easily taken photos of his sketches with her phone and then approached Daisy with them, saying she had a great way to get back at Costello. You know, for a fee."
"You think Daisy would have gone for it?" I asked.
"You tell me. How much does Daisy hate Costello?"
I sipped my wine, thinking back to my conversation with her. "A lot."
"There you have it." Ava shot me a triumphant grin and sat back in her seat.
"Okay, so what does this have to do with Gia's murder?" I asked.
"Well, maybe Daisy was afraid Gia would spill that her design was stolen. Maybe something about showcasing them for the public at the Links show was the catalyst. Maybe she even visited Gia in her dressing room to make sure she kept her mouth shut and Gia demanded more money."
"Now that does sound like the Gia we're getting to know."
"Anyway, I think it's worth not discounting Daisy as a possibility."
I thought so too. And I was about to say as much, when the sound of glass shattering ripped through the air, causing me to freeze in place.
Ava heard it too, her mouth dropping open in a surprised O. "What was that?" she asked, gaze whipping back and forth, scanning the fields behind us.
"I don't know." Thanks to the mellow wine haze hitting my brain, realization was slow to dawn. "But