Murder at the Wine Tasting

by Liz Turner

  Tears pricked at her eyes and she wiped them away before he could see. “Oh, you don’t want that,” she said, laughing a little. “But thank you; I hope to be able to visit often.”

  Margie watched Officer Marcus leave, her heart inflating inside of her chest. It would be hard to leave Bristol, but knowing that there were so many who stood behind her and supported her made it a little easier.

  They didn’t want her to leave, but they wanted her to fulfill her dreams and be happy. What an amazing group of people she had accidentally stumbled upon.

  Margie went back inside. She started on the menu for the day, her two young apprentices eager to do whatever task she asked of them. They were so helpful, in fact, that she didn’t notice John was missing until it was nearly 3 PM. The other kids filed in, looking ready to work when one of the older girls asked after him.

  “I haven’t seen John around today. I’m sure he’s fine. He’s had kind of a rough week.” Margie smiled. “I’m sure he’d want us to just fill in for him.”

  As reassuring as she tried to be with the kids, Margie was a little worried. Perhaps her rejecting him with the kind of firm finality was just too much for him to bear. She felt guilty then; she hadn’t meant to drive him away. But she also didn’t want him to mistake her meaning or end up with any false hopes.

  With the seven kids working hard, dinner and plating finished up early. All the dishes were cleaned and the next day’s dough set out to proof. All the helpers went home a full hour early, all of them with big grins on their faces.

  She hadn’t planned on it, but Margie decided to make a surprise trip to the police station. She wanted to grab coffee with Ray and spend as much time as she could with her friends. She wanted to spend her whole day off on Sunday helping Camelia arrange, then rearrange the baby’s room over and over until it was perfect. She wanted to grab tea with Dolly and deliver a big box of sweets to the police station. She wanted to see all those faces who had supported her and lifted her up when she needed it.

  Until she left for the Caribbean, Margie vowed to spend as much free time as she could with everyone she would miss. It was imperative to make sure every single one of them knew how important they were to her.

  After changing her clothing, Margie hopped on the bus into town. She watched the trees fly by, their beautiful, green shapes simplified down to green and brown streaks as they raced by the windows. She watched them, trying to memorize the look of it. The trees quickly turned to farms, then to the town center. Margie got off at Main Street, walking the two extra blocks to pick up some sweets for the officers. Cradling the box in her hands, she walked up the concrete stairs of the building, her eyes running over the details like she’d never seen it before. She wanted to remember the tan color of the stairs and the way the cop cars all sat in front of the building like sleeping dogs waiting for their master’s call.

  Margie smiled at every face, studying first the night secretary then the other faces who came to indulge in the box of goodies she brought them. She saved a bear claw, Ray’s favorite, taking it back to his desk where she knew he would still be.

  “Burning the midnight oil?”

  Ray, who had been huddled over his desk, jumped. “Oh, Margie, you scared me witless. Make some more noise next time.”

  Frowning, Margie handed him the pastry. “With the way the night crew cheered for the box of comforts I just brought them, I would have to bring a whole parade in here to make any more noise than I already have. What were you studying so hard that you didn’t hear me coming?”

  “I checked and rechecked every last one of your kids, and not one single person on the staff or in your kitchen has any red flags against them.” He slammed the piled of papers and noted back onto his desk, then rubbed at his eyes. “I feel like I’m missing something, but I can’t imagine what.”

  Margie leaned over and glanced at the paper. “You checked everyone?”

  “Yes, all fifteen of the serving and room service crew that could have possibly have handled the wine glasses. I checked all seven of the kids in your kitchen...”

  “There are nine of us.”

  Ray laughed, looking up at her. “Well, I didn’t do a background check on you. Are you suggesting that I should have?” He took a giant bite of bear claw, his eyes nearly rolling back in his skull as he chewed. Margie guessed he hadn’t eaten recently; she should have brought him something more substantial and not just dessert.

  Shaking her head at him, Margie crossed her arms and leaned the backs of her thighs against his desk. “No, I mean there are nine of us in the kitchen. There’s me, then eight more people with me. Not seven.”

  Ray just stared at her for a second, swallowing hard. “Let me see.” He glanced over his list again, reading off the names Dolly had given him of all the staff. “Karen, Maria, Steve, Jacob, Jose, Mark, Lester, and Missy. Who am I missing?”

  Margie could feel all the blood running from her face. “John Stanley. He works in the kitchens with us.”

  Ray glanced over the list again and shrugged. “I’ll call Dolly.”

  And he did. Ice slithered through her veins as he dialed the winery’s number. It had to be a simple error right? Or was it?

  “Yes, of course. Thank you for your time, Dolly. Have a great evening.” Ray hung up the phone, staring at the receiver for a few seconds before turning his attention to Margie. “Dolly says she has no one named John Stanley on the payroll.”

  Margie’s stomach dropped down to her toes, her hair standing on end. Then she remembered. How John hid from Dolly whenever she came in the kitchen. How John sat next to Margie on the bus after their not-date and asked if she knew where the widow Lady Withers was staying. How Dolly had promised her all kids, but she’d unexpectedly ended up with a seasoned cook in her kitchen.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Margie’s white face was enough to launch Ray to his feet. He grabbed his keys.

  Ray pushed her out of the station, nearly at a run. “Tell me on the way.”

  So she did. Starting at the beginning, she lined up all of her suspicions. They all made such a lovely neat pattern. How John had suggested the gift basket. How he’d disappeared when Officer Marcus left to deliver it. How he had a car. How he only started flirting with her when he found out that Lady was still alive and that Margie was close to the police.

  “I think he might have followed Officer Marcus to where she’s hiding out.”

  Ray’s eyes widened, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. “He’s going to kill her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I believe so.” Margie’s heart felt like it was on fire. If this were true, all of that attention was just to find out where Lady was hiding so he could finish what he set out to do. “How long ago did you send an officer to Lady’s house?” Her heart felt like it was on fire.

  “Someone freed up about twenty minutes ago.” Ray pushed his foot down a little harder on the gas, the blue, and red flashing lights startling cars out of his way.

  “Can you contact him? John has a car so he could be tailing him right now.”

  Ray picked up the radio in his car, pressing the button to broadcast his voice. “Looking for Officer Jacobson.” Silence met his inquiry, so he tried again. “Officer Jacobson?”

  After what seemed like an eternity, the officer in question answered, his voice distorted by the radio. “Did you drop off that basket?”

  “I did, sir, just now.”

  “Head back to the house and stay there; possible murder suspect in route now who is targeting the widow.”

  A string of curse words poured through the radio, each one peppered with the sound of squealing tires and honking horns. “On the way.”

  They were still seven minutes out, the clock racing feverishly against them. “We’re not going to make it,” Margie whispered, her voice cracking as the ice cold realization of what was going to happen plowed into her. “How did I not see it?”

  Ray’s breath was comin
g fast, but he seemed to be keeping his head. Better than Margie. “Margie, you don’t know he followed Jacobson at all. Please calm down. We’re going to do everything we can to make sure she’s safe. Please calm down.”

  But she couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe. Her vision pulsed with her heartbeats. And underneath the panic for Lady and the worry that John would disappear and get away with it was the heartbreaking realization that John never wanted Margie. While the rest was terrifying, this was painful. She thought they were friends! The pressure of his betrayal sat heavy on her shoulders, and she shattered under the strain of it. The shame of falling for it. She was so certain he was the killer that she shook with the knowledge of it.

  An eternity later, they pulled up into the driveway of the Safehouse. Ray spilled from the car, leaving Margie sitting in the front seat, staring at the house. After a second, the other officer’s vehicle raced around the corner. He jumped from his car and ran full speed into the house.

  Then Margie heard nothing.

  The silence was so completely deafening that she couldn’t seem to breathe right. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears like a drumbeat and her whole body shook with the violent nervousness of hope. She prayed they made it in time; that her realizations hadn’t come too late.

  Her breath was labored, her head spinning wildly, but she refused to take her eyes off of the house.

  After what seemed like a thousand years, Ray walked out of the front door, a very angry looking John cuffed and held in his hands. Without another thought, Margie leapt from the passenger’s seat, her hands clutching the door so hard that her fingers went numb. “Lady?” she choked out.

  Ray nodded, pointing his chin back towards the house. “She’s alive.”

  All the air seemed to come back to Margie’s lungs all at once, and she was dizzy with relief. She had to hold onto the door to keep from falling, her knees wobbling under the strain. “Oh thank God.”

  John’s angry glare slammed into her full force, his usually calm and kind face twisted with rage. “Is this your fault? Did you do this?” he screamed, his voice breaking as he hollered. He was screaming so loud that all the sense leeched out of his words, leaving nothing but animal cries and the fire of hatred burning in his eyes. “She ruined my life,” he screamed, his voice seeming to tear at his lungs. Ray tucked him in the back of the police car, closing the doors around him. Margie could still hear him screaming, but the sense of his words disappeared behind the closed door.

  Feeling hollow, Margie ran into the house as Ray called in help. Unshed tears burned in her eyes.

  The second police officer was sitting next to Lady, slowly peeling the duct tape from her lips. The skin tore, even as he was trying to be careful and Margie winced as she watched. Lady’s face was red with tears, her face twisted with pain. But still, she refused to speak.

  More police officers showed up as she stood, useless in the center of the crime scene. Margie stepped out the back door, sitting down on the pitch black back porch. Curling her knees up, she rested her head on her folded arms and cried until she had nothing left.

  Chapter 12

  “You have the right to a lawyer.”

  “What do I need a lawyer for?” John’s voice said. Or it almost sounded like John’s voice. John’s voice had never sounded so sullen and full of suppressed rage. “That hag is just going to tell everyone what I did, then nothing in the world is going to save me.” Violence seethed under his skin. Margie almost took a step back, but then she remembered he could not see her through the one-way mirror.

  “Why did you murder Kevin Withers?”

  “I don’t care about Kevin. I was trying to kill Lady. She ruined my life.” John pulled at the cuffs that tied him to the table, his fingers twitching as though they dreamed of choking the life from Lady. “She blackmailed me for months before I found out who she was and came after her.” He was yelling again, his voice echoing around inside of the tiny interrogation room. “$20,000.00!” He slammed his fist into the table as hard as he could with his restraints. “$20,000!”

  The officer inside made an entry in his notepad. Ray, who was standing next to Margie, made a face. “That explains the money we found in her house.”

  Margie just nodded, feeling like someone had hollowed out all of her insides with an ice cream scoop. She was thankful Ray had let her sit in on the interrogation; if nothing else, perhaps she would gain a little closure from the pain John had put her through. Perhaps, with her curiosity sated, she’d be able to go back to her life without feeling ill.

  “Why was she blackmailing you?”

  John’s face twisted, unnoticed tears dotting his eyes. “Because I defected during the war. There was a lot of cold, horrible things that happened during the war, and my commanding officer perpetuated it. Everywhere he went, it was rape, pillage, and burn the whole town to the ground. Anyone who argued with him was mysteriously killed during the next raid. With a bullet. To the back.” John wove a tale of horrors, listing off the women and children and men he’d watched butchered, tortured, or worse. “So I left. I wasn’t interested in becoming some kind of martyr to the cause, and I refused to continue to follow orders. So I defected.”

  John pressed his face into his hands, leaning down on the table he was cuffed to. “I changed my name and ended up in Spain. Only to hear whispers a year later; that same commanding officer was pinning every single horrifying thing on me. So I ran. I ran as far from home as I could. I found new names and new places to work. Even a new face.” He rubbed at the skin of his forehead, his hair slipping from its ponytail to fall on his face. “I made a happy life for myself in the city.

  “Until all of a sudden, I got ransom notes detailing everything I was wanted for and demanding money. I had no choice; I paid and paid and paid. Until I found out who was sending them.”

  The officer’s face slacked, but he worked not to show his horror. “How did Lady find out?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know!”

  Margie turned on her heel, walking out of the back room and into the precinct. She had to relearn how to breathe around this new ache that burrowed in her chest. This was a never ending horror story. Unable to bear another second, Margie left, hailing a taxi to take her back to Heavenly Springs Winery. The world had tilted, but somehow she managed to fall into bed. She cried until she fell asleep.

  Her nightmares were enough to wake the dead.

  It took a few days for Margie to recover completely. The strain of weeks of little sleep and constant work piled on top of the acutest stresses of the case. Margie ended up with a fever and a case of exhaustion that required as much of her time as possible be spent in bed. Camelia came to visit her while she rested.

  “Should you be in here? I’m sick.”

  Camelia laughed. “I doubt I’m going to catch your levels of stress. I think that’s reserved for just you, my friend.” Then her face sobered. She sat down heavily on the side of the bed, her face showing concern. “How are you feeling, Margie?”

  “Awful,” she said honestly. Her friend looked so well; there was a glow to her features that seemed to always be with her. She rubbed at her stomach, smiling to herself as though her unborn child was telling jokes only she could hear. She looked so happy.

  And for once, Margie was happy for her instead of jealous.

  Camelia had what she wanted, and Margie was going to get what she had always desired in a week.

  Life was perfect. Or, as perfect as it could be with all she had witnessed. If nothing else, John reminded her of everything that was important.

  “Well, you need to rest up. We’re having the baby shower on Sunday so you can join us. You have to be better by then.”

  Margie grinned, laying her hand over Camelia’s. Her skin was cool to the touch and so familiar. How many times had they sat by one another’s beds when the other was sick? Too many to count. This felt like home. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Even if they have to airlift me to you
r house on a gurney, I will be there.”

  Camelia laughed, her smiling serving to further lift Margie’s spirit. “And you can bet we’ll be down to visit after the baby’s born. I can’t wait to see what a Caribbean beach looks like.” She sighed, batting her eyelashes.

  And Margie laughed until her sides hurt.

  She also had a visit from Dolly, who had taken over running the kitchen in her absence, a visit from each one of her kids, and even a short visit from Ray. He brought her flowers and told her to perk up. He told her how Lady had been arrested for blackmail and how John had pleaded guilty. Lady also pleaded guilty, unable to stand the stresses of a trial. She blamed herself for Kevin’s death, not John.

  Margie was well enough to attend the shower. She was happy to ooh and ahh over gifts she was happy never to be on the receiving end of herself. They talked about baby names and guessed the gender and played games. Margie secretly hoped for a little girl; their clothes were much more fun.

  After a few days, Margie replacement came into town. She and the kids had him trained up and ready to take over in two days. After that, there was nothing to do but get ready to leave. She packed up what little she had, getting ready for her big plane ride.

  Chapter 13

  “Don’t forget sunscreen; they get a lot more sun down there.”

  Margie laughed, rolling her eyes. “I brought sunscreen, Cammy. No worries. I’m so ready for this.” They stood by the gate, waiting for Margie’s flight to board. The gray walls of the airport looked dark and unfriendly, but the woman behind the counter had a real smile on her face as she started calling passengers to their seats. Margie glanced nervously at her ticket again.

  Camelia rubbed at her belly nervously as though it were some kind of good luck charm. “And you have your papers and your...”

  “Yes, mom, I have all of my things.” Margie laughed, and Ray joined her as Camelia frowned.