“Raymond, we’re back!”

Thank god. Raymond remained under the desk another moment before he began the arduous process of climbing up and out so that he could seat himself in the chair before Misha, his assistant, came into the office and found him hiding.

“Mom!” Jesse and Dante called at the same time.

“Hey, babies!” Mish called, clearly pulling them into hugs, judging by the “oof!” sounds they made. They’d been sitting at her desk; Ray had tasked them with helping her organize her desk and files into something that resembled the sequence of the alphabet. They were all too happy to help, but he wondered if maybe their own basis for common sense came from their mother. He was banking on the quiet reassurance of their sensible father, Keith, to shine through, but maybe he shouldn’t get his hopes up. CRASH! And there went the stack of folders that had been leaning dangerously for weeks now. “What in the world? You boys pick that up now, you hear? Where is that man? He’s supposed to be watching you!”

“Mama, he’s in his ossif!” Dante began shuffling papers happily, having outed Ray’s hiding spot. Ray grabbed at his chair but inadvertently pushed it, sending it skidding along the polished wood floor, out of his reach.

“Raymond? Ray? Where are you?” Ray heard the sounds of bags being dropped by her desk, and then the knob of his office door began to turn. He had every intention of sitting, composed and waiting for her, but the problem was, he was stuck. His knee was bent at such an angle that it was wedged under the lip of the desk. If he tried to move it, he was going to rip his pants and his skin open on the wires that hung out from the old sliding tray Mish had installed for his keyboard. She had gone on a kick about ergonomics one week, and it had lasted less than a day before Ray ripped it out. He was seriously regretting it now as he sat there, slouched over, listening to Mish’s high heels click closer and closer.

He saw her brightly painted toenails and thick dark calf before she bent over, and her round face came in view. Thin, ebony braids fell over her shoulders, and the little beads at the ends clacked together as she bent down to look at him hiding under his own desk.

“That bad, huh?”

“Absolutely not. They were a pleasure.”

“Really?” She raised her perfectly crafted eyebrow and snorted. “Ray, if you didn’t want to watch the boys, why didn’t you say so?”

“I beg your pardon? I most certainly wanted to watch them. They were a pleasure.”

“Then why are you hiding under your desk?”

Ray struggled and felt the wire dig into his knee. At forty-five, he really didn’t want a gouge in his joint in addition to the occasional arthritis he felt, so he stopped moving and held still.

“I, ah, dropped my pencil.”

“Bullshit.” She countered.

“Mish! The kids!”

“I’m their Mama. They know better than to repeat what I say if it’s adult language. I will whip their little butts around the yard like rag dolls if I ever hear them say it. Now, Raymond Knott, you tell me what’s going on here.” She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. He wasn’t getting out of this one, so he sighed.

“It seems I’m stuck.”

“Mhmm. I gathered that. But that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Ah. Yes, well, your sons were an absolute pleasure this weekend with the exception of one thing.”

“Which is?” Ray could see the patience on her face wearing thin.

“They ask so many questions. So, so many. Do they ever stop? From the time Dante wakes at the unholy hour of five-thirty in the morning, until the time the little tyke finally goes to sleep at eight, he doesn’t. Stop. Talking. Why?”

Misha threw her head back and laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. It was a good solid three minutes before she could catch her breath to answer him.

“Ray, as someone who makes it his business to ask questions and get to the bottom of things, it is ironic that the thing that would drive you nuts about kids is how much they talk. Now you understand my unhealthy obsession with coffee.”

“Quite right. Even Liam went in for overtime this weekend. The last few months, I think he has enjoyed having weekends off and relaxing at the house.”

“You mean home? I take it you and Liam are not thinking about adopting kids any time soon?”

“I beg your pardon? One, Liam keeps insisting that he is moving out as soon as his home is rebuilt. He couldn’t help that it was blown up! He has a home, and apparently he wants to return to it!”

“Mhmm, which is why he told the contractors he wasn’t all that worried about it when they said the project would be delayed by three months.”

“And two, we are not together. Why would we adopt kids?”

“You keep telling yourself that the two of you don’t have a thing for one another, Ray. The rest of us know better. As for kids, to each their own. I’m glad the boys behaved, though. Keith had to convince me all weekend they wouldn’t blow your house up too, and then you and Liam would be moving in with us.”

“I can assure you, I would never impose in such a way. Although Jesse needs to be supervised when he makes a rendition of your cookies in the kitchen. He hasn’t quite come to understand the use of a timer.”

“Smoke alarm went off, didn’t it?”

“He got caught up in his D&D game. I salvaged a couple of cookies for Dante though.”

Misha sighed, braced her heels on either side of the desk, and carefully pushed so that Ray could un-wedge his knee. He climbed out and finally got a good look at Misha as he rolled his neck on his shoulders to ease the crick. She looked refreshed, her black skin radiant. Ray had offered to watch the kids so Misha and Keith could have a weekend away together. He felt the stakes had been upped a few months ago when Misha had presented him with a card and tickets to a vineyard weekend getaway for his birthday. Normally, he would give Misha a bonus on the holidays for being such a hardworking assistant to his business, Knott’s Investigation Services, but he wanted to do something more personal, so he had bought them tickets for a weekend cruise and offered to watch the kids. Misha, who was now twenty-seven, had never been on a cruise. Ray was hard-pressed to understand her methods, given the current state of the front office, which looked like the filing cabinets had been looted and dumped over onto the floor, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that, despite their polar differences, she was the best assistant he could ever hope for. Her social connections and skill with media and technology was invaluable to him, as he preferred a more old-school method, and her no-nonsense attitude kept him honest.

He thought it would be easy that weekend, given that the kids had started to call him Uncle Ray. Misha and her family were, in a way, the only family he had. The only other person he was close to was his best friend and former partner, Liam. Liam was also now his roommate due to his house being blown up by the Switch Slasher Killer, or SSK, as they had dubbed him. The boys were good kids, though, just a bit boisterous and active. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but they had driven him to the much-needed moment of silence under his desk as he closed his eyes and tried to shut out the barrage of thoughts, responsibilities, and questions that lingered. No, he did not know where Batman’s Batcave was. No, he was not Alfred, Bruce Wayne’s butler, despite his slight British accent, due to his father’s heritage. Ray hadn’t known the mind of an eight-year-old and a five-year-old could be so active and receptive, but he was exhausted after a weekend of looking after them full time. He wasn’t sure how Mish coped with it all, even with a husband.

Seeing Misha standing there looking so rested and refreshed, he was glad he had done it, though. She of all people deserved the vacation, and he was happy she and Keith had the opportunity to get away. Keith was in the front room helping the boys clean up the mess as Mish stepped in and hugged Ray before he could gather his wits.

“Thank you.” She murmured.

He patted her back and smiled. “As I said, it really was my pleasure. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“It was wonderful. How were things here? At the office I mean?”

“They were quiet. We were just coming in to check the mail from yesterday and then headed back to the house. How did you know we would be here?”

“Oh, please, I’m surprised you don’t have the boys out interrogating people already. Besides, we stopped at the house as Liam was heading in, and he said you were taking the boys to the park and then to grab the mail.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And no more news on the SSK?” Her tone took a serious note as she searched his face.

Ray thought about this a long moment. He and Liam had spent hours poring over files and evidence in the room in his house dedicated to the investigation of the SSK. It was so much that it almost felt like a pastime they were bonding over and developing a relationship. Ray supposed that wasn’t a good kind of relationship to have, but he would take what he could get. The case was personal. It had started over ten years ago when Ray had still been a detective with the San Francisco Police Department. His partner, Liam, had helped him with an undercover case trying to catch a serial killer, who was targeting young gay men and couples. The theory was the SSK was enraged, either because he himself was gay and refused to admit it, or he had admitted it but couldn’t accept it about himself due to either religious reasons or negative influences like family or friends.

Ray and Liam had gone undercover as a couple and lived in an apartment together, flaunting their supposed relationship until the SSK had struck. The SSK had been injured but had taken a piece of Ray that night in the struggle. He had slashed Ray down the side of the face, effectively ending his career in the SFPD, because his vision was now slightly blurry. Ray hadn’t given up, though. He had opened Knott’s Investigation Services and continued helping gay couples in need. He helped everyone, but he had a soft spot for his gay clients because he was still pining away for his old partner. Liam had gone on to become a captain in the SFPD and was looking at another promotion soon.

The SSK had fallen silent until a few months ago, when he surfaced, leaving a few clues and a whole lot of debris where Liam’s house used to be. The note he left was pinned to the board in the room upstairs at Ray’s house, and he and Liam had gone over it again and again until they were ready to tear their hair out.

Fool me once, shame on you. But this rhyme’s been altered to fit for two.

Enclosed you’ll find a clue of the past. Wear it proudly, make it last.

You’ve blurred the lines; the play’s been altered. Underestimating me, you failed, you faltered.

With this monocle, your vision becomes clearer. It’s almost time, I’m getting nearer.

Open your eyes and you will see, where it all started, steps one through three.

Step three was two and two was wrong. Are you paying attention, are you following along?

For its two you must be concerned about. At half past midnight, I’ll make him shout.

Cut, cut, slash slash, my Dearest Ray. I’ve said enough, wouldn’t you say?

But I’ll leave you one last clue to follow, but time is ticking you have only until tomorrow.

Start at the place you saw me last, follow your peripheral into the past.

On a bed of lies you both have lain, you’ll find the next clue, or perhaps the victim I’ve slain?

S.S.K.

Ray and Liam knew now the note was referring to Liam, who was the second clue. The SSK had blown up his house. Ray suspected he was the first clue. The references to slashing likely alluding to the killer cutting Ray’s face open. But the real kicker was the item that had come with the letter: a small monocle. Ray had no idea what it meant, and he pocketed it before it could be confiscated as evidence. When Liam found out, it was the first time he had ever truly shouted at him. He accused him of contaminating evidence by handling the monocle before forensics could retrieve fingerprints and the like. Ray pointed out that the SSK thus far hadn’t been that stupid, and he would have more luck getting DNA off the envelope if the SSK had made the mistake of licking it to seal it. Liam had threatened to press obstruction of justice charges, and Ray kindly reminded him that they had been friends too damn long to play the bureaucratic bullshit cards against one another. They’d cracked the top of a bottle of whisky and drunk it out until they were too stupid to be mad at one another anymore.

The only other clue was a wine cork, which was found at the old apartment they had used as a cover residence when they first went undercover. Ray couldn’t figure out what it might mean, as he wasn’t a wine aficionado, and Liam was just as stumped. They had no idea what the third clue might be, or in the case of the note, if three was two, or Liam was the second target, and then repeating to step one, which would make Ray the third target. Then there was the second person, or technically, the first target. It was all so confusing, but he and Liam did agree that whoever the SSK had killed, he had threatened to leave the person at the old apartment which was kept on retainer by the SFPD. Occasional patrols were sent out to scan the rooms for any suspicious activity, but so far, no body had turned up.

“There weren’t any new developments as of this weekend, Mish. However, I wasn’t devoting my time to the investigation.”

“Well, it’s good to know you unburied your head from the sand for my kids. I just wish the SSK would make a move. But at the same time, I don’t, you know?”

“Yes. If he does make a move, I’m afraid it will not be a very good one. I fear we’ll find the third person the note is referring to. Or worse, he’ll begin targeting and killing again.”

Both Ray and Mish fell silent. It was only when Keith knocked softly on the door that Ray looked up. Keith was a gentle giant, the polar opposite of his wife. Where Mish had a tsunami of a personality, he was a silent rock, quietly raising his family and being there for everyone.

“There’s a phone call for you, Ray.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, you were both so deep in conversation you didn’t hear it. I answered it Knott’s Investigation and then asked them to please hold.”

“Thank you so much, Keith.” Ray picked up the corded, heavy dial phone and answered. “Private Investigator Raymond Knott. How may I help you?”

“Ray? It’s Elijah. Elijah Montgomery. We went to college together.”

“Hello, Elijah. Yes, I remember you.”

“I know I wasn’t the most decent person to you back in the day, but I, ah, I need your help.”

“Of course. The past is past. What can I help you with?”

“Well, I am the owner of Valiant Vines Winery.”

“That’s you? My goodness, I’ve heard of the brand, but I didn’t realize you had built that.”

“Yes, that’s me. Valiant Vines is the name of the farm, but Lascivious Libations is the brand that the farm is known for.”

“Yes, I’m a little familiar with it.”

Misha had given him two tickets to that very farm a few months ago for his birthday and encouraged him to take Liam for a weekend getaway. He had quietly passed them along to a young couple who was getting married, because he was not much of a wine drinker. As a thank you gift for solving a case for them and unmasking their stalker, they, in turn, had given him two tickets to the very same winery. He supposed the cosmos had an amusing way of playing games. They were still folded neatly in his wallet, as he hadn’t had the courage to follow up with Liam about going away with him after the first time he had asked at the couple’s wedding. It seemed Liam had been enthused by the idea, but then work and the precinct had kept him busy, and Ray hadn’t wanted to push the issue.

“Well, the long story is, I have finally signed with an international distributor, and as a congratulatory event, I am hosting a gay singles retreat this weekend. I have invited about thirty people to the event, well-to-do, upper echelon of society types who are not in a relationship or seeing anyone, as kind of a kickoff to the winery going global, as well as promoting further connections, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I see.” It figured Ray wouldn’t be known as the upper echelon of San Francisco’s gay single society. The tickets were technically good for any weekend, but he had a feeling if he had tried to use them this weekend, he would be firmly encouraged to choose a different weekend.

“The guests will be arriving tomorrow morning, but when I went to check on everything for the opening party, I discovered the bottle of wine that I had been saving since I first began brewing— we’re talking the very first aged bottle that I corked—has gone missing.”

Ray chose his words carefully, having a feeling he wasn’t going to like the response, but it needed to be said anyway. “And you’re sure the bottle wasn’t accidentally misplaced or confused with another?”

“No. It was in a locked container that only I have the key to. That bottle was priceless to me and the pillar of this business. I need you to come down here and go undercover at my retreat to figure out who stole it. I was planning to uncork it for my guests on the last night of the retreat as a gift to them. It is uncommon for a winery to use their first bottle for such an event, but I wanted to make an impression and impress my guests with the generosity of the act.”

“Yes, you would want to make an impression.” Ray muttered. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the line was silent, and he cursed himself internally.

“Like I said, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye. I am a difficult man sometimes, but please help me. This is of the utmost importance to me. I can pay whatever fees and expenses you incur coming down here.”

Ray sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I’ll do it. My assistant Misha will handle the paperwork aspect and bill you accordingly. I’ll help on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Elijah’s voice was hesitant. He didn’t like not being in control.

“I will be bringing a partner. He will come under the guise of attending the retreat as well, but we will work together in secret under the ruse of having hit it off at the retreat. He is a police officer and very good at investigation. Deal?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all! How soon can you get here?”

“I’ll be out later tonight. I need to pack a few things, and then I’ll drive out.”

“Perfect. Thank you for taking my case, Ray. I’m sure we’ll work through our differences. I look forward to making amends. Oh, and Ray?”

“Hmm?”

“Make sure you pack dress clothes. These are impressionable people.”

Ray hung up the phone, already feeling the headache coming on. Elijah was a pain in the ass. He always had been, but he could see why he was the way he was. His family were lowlifes. When Elijah moved out, built the farm, and went to school all on his own to set up his life the way he wanted, he’d stepped on a few toes, including Ray’s when they had tried to date him in college. Ray tried to remember that he had built a wall around himself to protect himself from being hurt by people.

Mish was already typing away on her phone. Her nails clicked over the screen, and then she flashed it at him as he began dialing the phone. It appeared to be a list of things he had to pack. There was no way he was packing six ties for one weekend. He glared at her as the phone rang.

“Liam, hey, how’s it going? Look, I just got a call. It’s time to visit that winery. You up for an undercover assignment?”