A Riesling to Die

by J. C. Eaton

  Aargh. I was really caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I decided to go through with my original plan because procrastinating wasn’t an option. I had to prove Lucas and Declan were responsible for the murder since they had the strongest motive. And if I was wrong? Then I’d move to the next name on my list–Stephanie’s. I’d figure out a way to get her to admit to murder.

  My eyes scanned the huge field in front and the vineyards below. Stephanie was right about the location–the gentle slope was perfect for cultivating grapes. In the distance I could see Peaceful Pines and what appeared to be two people walking behind the building toward the edge of the property. No sense calling attention to myself. I followed Charlie’s lead and made my way back to our land through the thicket of berry bushes.

  I was about to congratulate myself for not getting cut when I felt a small sting on my calf. My jeans had acquired a new rip, rendering them even more fashionable. As for the scrape beneath it, it was too miniscule to worry about. I went back to the house and spent the rest of the day at my laptop. I didn’t even bother to check in at the winery. From my vantage point on the porch, Alvin looked well-fed, cars were going in and out of the tasting room parking lot and the only tours taking place were with the college student guides we hired. Groups of ten, and no one in the vineyard rows.

  My dinner consisted of canned chicken soup, a bag of pretzels and two apples. I figured one out of the three had to be healthy. I was adamant that A Swim Under the Waterfall was going to be delivered to Renee on time and with a minimum of errors. By quarter after seven, I decided if I had to write another line about someone’s lips touching someone else’s, I would puke. The last thing that had touched my lips was Alvin’s spittle and I winced.

  In the eight or so years I’d been living in the city, I had a few casual relationships and one near miss. The near miss ended amicably enough, but I wasn’t ready for that sort of intimacy and commitment again. Not for a while anyway.

  I stepped outside and took a deep breath. It was one of those warm summer nights that made people forget about the last time they had to shovel three feet of snow or scrape the ice off their windshields. I went back inside, made myself a big glass of iced tea and returned to the porch to craft a new screenplay, only this one was for real.

  It was imperative I knew what I was going to say to Declan and exactly how I was going to say it. I had to convince him that I agreed with the vision he and Lucas shared and that I would be willing to sacrifice Two Witches Winery but only if I got something in return that was more than a monetary settlement. I had to become their third partner.

  Line after line, explanation after explanation, I went at my presentation-slash-script as if Renee was standing over my head waving a deadline calendar at me. By the time it was dusk, I thought I had it figured out. I leaned back to enjoy the last sip of my third—or was it fourth—iced tea when a combination of no-see-ums, black flies and mosquitoes attacked my neck, arms and legs. In a matter of minutes, I had become a pincushion for every blood-sucking insect on Seneca Lake.

  Apparently the dog was brighter. He’d left the porch a good half hour ago and was now sprawled out on the kitchen floor. I patted him on the head and headed straight for the shower. As the warm water washed over me, I practiced my lines as if I was about to appear on Broadway. I’d promised Theo and Don I’d give the sheriff’s investigation some time, but holy geez! How much time did they need? The Fourth of July was coming up in another week and summer always seemed to fly by after that. Last thing this winery needed was to have an unsolved murder looming over us during the fall rush. Nope, I couldn’t wait. I had to act.

  Of course there was one more teeny little piece of the puzzle I didn’t address and I had to admit, it kind of gnawed at me. The Madeline Martinez–Elsbeth Waters relationship. What the hell was Elsbeth doing at Madeline’s house? And Stephanie certainly couldn’t be mistaken about the car. Not many people drove big clunker station wagons anymore. And Elsbeth’s was a hideous shade of dark green, according to Stephanie, who said she had seen it on more than one occasion.

  Yep, I’d have to have that chat with Madeline sometime soon. Maybe after my meeting with Declan. I shook the last bit of water from my head and dried myself off. Then I did something I’d meant to do all day but forgot—checked the answering machine for missed calls.

  Drat! My parents. I knew I should’ve gotten back to them sooner. I picked up the receiver and placed the call. “Honest. There’s no reason for you to make the drive up here. The sheriff’s department should have this solved in no time.”

  Boy was I becoming one big liar!

  My parents told me Francine e-mailed them and was ecstatic about the adventure. Hell, she could’ve been ecstatic here, too, what with all the bugs that had no problem drawing my blood. Too bad they weren’t the Culex aegypti or whatever the heck those were!

  I promised my dad I’d let him know if I couldn’t handle anything or if, God forbid, another body showed up. Then I called it quits for the night and drifted asleep with Charlie at my feet. It was short-lived. The phone all but exploded in my ear. Don’s voice.

  “Norrie? Is Charlie inside? Make sure he’s inside. The coyotes are out on a hunt. They’re screaming and shrieking like mad. I’m surprised they didn’t wake you.”

  No, you did.

  “They must’ve killed something already.”

  “Uh, sure. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Then Catherine Trobert from Lake View phoned. “I hope I didn’t wake you. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t decide to step outside. There’s a pack of coyotes running around and they’re screaming their heads off. You should be okay. Make sure your door’s locked and your windows are closed.”

  I wanted to tell Catherine I seriously doubted a coyote was going to open my door with his mouth and let himself inside, but I thought better of it and thanked her.

  Then, another call. This one from Yvonne. “Norrie? Is that you? Do you hear that screaming? It sounds like a woman’s being murdered behind my house.”

  “It’s not a woman. It’s coyotes. They’ve made a kill. That’s what they do. Or, one of them could be in heat. It’s a similar sound. I’m not going outside to check. If your guests are still up at this hour, tell them to stay inside.”

  Thankfully Charlie was still fast asleep on my bed but I didn’t want to take any chances. I trudged downstairs and pulled the plastic cover over his doggie door so he couldn’t get out. Then I went back to bed and prayed no one else would disturb me.

  Chapter 19

  “So how will I recognize Marc and Enzo for this covert operation of mine?” I asked Cammy. It was Tuesday afternoon and I was ready to get moving on my plan. I had stopped into the tasting room on my way to the bistro for lunch. There were only so many frozen casseroles or bland sandwiches I could handle at home.

  “Real easy. You can’t miss ‘em. They’re your typical college frat boys who think they’re God’s gift to mankind. Don’t get me wrong, they’re neat guys and not bad looking, but they’re in their early twenties and full of themselves. Both of them are on the tall side with dark hair. Marc’s a bit more muscular but, side by side, they look alike, even though one of them is my aunt Angie’s kid and the other one is Aunt Luisa’s.”

  “You’re sure they’re going to be okay with this?”

  “Oh yeah. No problem. Just need the time and place. Oh, and it has to be during the day before five. That’s when their bartending shifts begin.”

  “Believe me, it will be during the day. At a heavily populated family restaurant. Got any ideas?”

  “Sure. Tim Hortons, Panera Bread or The Bagel Barn on Hamilton Street. Those places all have Wi-Fi and everyone seems to mind their own business. Personally, I’d go for The Bagel Barn. The way it’s set up, there’s a barrier between the tables with lots of plants. Marc and Enzo could sit on the other side, virtually unseen, but
they could overhear you.”

  “The Bagel Barn it is. I’m going to call Declan the second I get to the house and set up a time for this week. Then I’ll phone you so you can let your cousins know. Tell them to look for a woman in her late twenties with auburn hair and freckles. I doubt they’ll see my dimple. In fact, I’ll make it easier. I’ll wear one of our Two Witches T-shirts.”

  “Done. Hey, you sure you want to go through with this?”

  “I’m sure. I think it’s the only way I can get those developers to admit to Elsbeth’s murder. Make them believe I’m as ruthless as they are.”

  My call to Declan went fairly well, considering he wanted us to dine at a more elegant spot than The Bagel Barn. I told him I didn’t have time for a full sit-down meal but I really wanted to learn more about his proposal for the area, specifically the offer he intended to make for Two Witches. We agreed on Thursday afternoon at two.

  Thank goodness I had a screenplay to deal with because I would’ve spent Wednesday biting off the tips of my fingernails. Other than running into Peter at the bistro on Thursday morning, I really didn’t spend any time conversing with anyone. Peter asked again if I’d heard any news about the investigation and I shook my head.

  “Not a blasted thing.”

  “You’d think by now they would’ve had a lead,” he said.

  “Not in this county. I think whoever’s investigating isn’t doing a thorough job.”

  The instant I said that, I regretted it because Peter wanted to know what I knew and I wasn’t about to say anything regarding the berry bushes and my latest theory. I didn’t need a new rumor mill to get started. “If they were doing a thorough job, they’d have made some progress by now. It’s been almost two weeks.”

  We left it at that, except for some small talk about the vineyards.

  By midday Thursday, the first small wave of panic came over me. What if I couldn’t pull it off? What if I couldn’t pretend to be callous and greedy? Then I thought about everything we had at stake here. And the other small wineries, too. Last thing any of us needed was to become the next Disneyland. I made myself an iced tea and focused instead on rehearsing my lines for the performance I was about to deliver at The Bagel Barn.

  True to her word, Cammy arranged for her cousins to be there. They arrived a half hour earlier than my scheduled meeting time with Declan. I was already seated at one of the tables and made sure no one occupied the one adjacent to it by tossing a sweater on one of the chairs and putting a pile of napkins and plastic utensils in the middle. Marc walked in first, spotted me and went right for the table I’d commandeered. I knew it was Marc the minute he opened his mouth.

  “Yo! En-Zo!” he yelled as his cousin walked in the door of the place. “I’m over here! Get me a Coke and one of those pepperoni bagels. I’ll pay you as soon as you get over here. Don’t want to lose the table.”

  I sat motionless and watched Enzo approach the counter to place the order. Cammy was right. He was cute. Same with Marc, but these guys were way too young for me. Not that I even gave that a thought. In front of me was the small coffee I’d ordered and I sipped it sparingly. From time to time, I glanced at the entrance for Declan but I had arrived early.

  “Psst!” Marc whispered from behind me. “We’ve got you covered.”

  I turned sideways and peered through the leafy plants to respond. “Shh. Thanks. Whatever you do, please don’t blow it. The man I’m supposed to meet will be here any second.”

  “No problem.”

  I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the door but no Declan. Not yet. I could hear Enzo’s voice because it was the one that said, “You owe me seven forty-eight, dude.”

  People kept streaming in and out of the place and I figured I wouldn’t have to wait much longer. Lifting the coffee cup to my lips, I took a long swallow. When I looked up, I was face-to-face with a well-built man in his late forties or maybe he’d just turned fifty, but that would be stretching it. Short-sleeved button-down sage shirt, light charcoal pants and wavy brown hair that didn’t have a hint of gray. He moved closer, gave me a nod and smiled. It took a minute but I recognized where I’d seen him before—Port of Call.

  He was, in a word, gorgeous. Older, but oh, so good-looking. His hazel-green eyes matched the shirt and I wondered… Contacts? No one’s eyes could be that intoxicating. Then I took another look at his shirt – hand-tailored maybe? Quite the contrast from the flaming orange Two Witches Winery shirt I had on. I cringed.

  “Miss Ellington? Norrie Ellington?”

  “Uh-huh, that’s me.”

  Without asking, he took the seat across from mine and reached out to shake my hand. “Forgive me. I’m Lucas Stilton, Declan’s partner. Declan left you a message this morning on your phone. From the look on your face, I don’t think you got it.”

  “No, I, um…”

  “He tried your cell phone, too, but it went to voice mail.”

  Crap. Of all times not to check the answering machine or voice mail.

  Lucas went on as if none of this mattered. “Declan got tied up at the last minute. He felt bad about it and asked if I’d step in. I was in the area anyway, so I thought it would be a good time for us to get acquainted. I believe I’ve already met your sister. Francine, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  For some reason, my tongue, my vocal chords and anything else I needed in order to speak coherently seized up. In less than sixty seconds, this drop-dead gorgeous hunk of a man had turned me into a blithering fourteen-year-old. Marc and Enzo must’ve been watching from between the ferns and potted plants because the next thing I knew, Marc shouted, “Yo! Bro! Tell me again about that babe you met last night.”

  It was enough of a distraction for me to get my concentration back. Damn it, Stephanie was right. Lucas Stilton’s smile could charm the skin off a snake. I hated to think what the rest of him could do. He hadn’t even started talking and I’d forgotten the lines I rehearsed last night and this morning.

  “Declan told me he showed you our plans for the area. This mega-wine complex we propose would put Seneca Lake on the global map.”

  He emphasized the word “global” and I opened my eyes wider.

  “Oh,” he said. “How absolutely crass of me. Let me buy you lunch or, at the very least, another drink. I was so exuberant about our project, I literally forgot my manners. It won’t happen again, I assure you. So, what would you like? I haven’t eaten so please order something. I don’t want to be dining while you sit there with nothing but a cup of coffee.”

  “Um, fine. That would be nice. I’ll have a toasted salt bagel with cream cheese and this time, an iced tea. I’m pretty much coffee-d out.”

  Lucas walked to the counter and Marc whispered between the plants. “Don’t let that old dude talk you into anything.”

  Yeah. Real easy for you to say. I kept my voice low. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

  Just then Enzo made some sort of a chortling noise and I looked away. Lucas returned to our table with our drinks and told me the bagels would arrive in a few minutes.

  “That’s great. Thank you.”

  Lucas stretched his arms back. Terrific. Now I can add broad chested to his list of physical attributes. Then he leaned forward and looked directly at me. “It wouldn’t be as if you or your sister were losing anything. Quite the contrary. Our offer to buy your winery is a generous one. You could open another such business along one of the other lakes, or you could join our venture by retaining your name and running a small winery kiosk inside our mega-plex. Of course, the wines would be produced by our company, not your existing one. Am I getting too far ahead for you?”

  “No, I’m galloping along quite nicely.”

  “Good. Good. I understand that for the duration of a year, the business operations and all legal decisions are yours. Is that correct?”

  I nodded. “It i
s.”

  At that second, the server placed our bagels in front of us and I caught a breath. I took a small bite out of the soft dough and took a closer look at Lucas’s face. Some small crow’s feet but my God! This guy was off the charts. So what if he was a good ten or fifteen years older than me. It didn’t stop all those celebrities like Calista Flockhart or Shania Twain. Of course, I seriously doubted they met their future husbands while wearing a garish T-shirt and consuming a bagel.

  Off to my left I heard Marc and Enzo coughing. It quickly put a stop to any ridiculous daydreams that flooded my mind. I was here to keep the family business intact and that was exactly what I intended to do.

  “Mr. Stilton, I’m not interested in selling our winery and walking off into the sunset. What I have in mind is a proposal that would make all of our lives richer.”

  “Please. Call me Lucas. And go on. I’m listening.”

  “Okay, Lucas. Here goes. No one knows this winery business better than the people who’ve been running it for decades. From soil acidity to nuances in the fermentation process, we’re familiar with it. What I’m proposing is to become your third partner.”

  At that moment, Enzo gasped, with Marc quickly covering for him. “That’s what he said, man. Those exact words. What a horse’s ass.”

  Lucas looked up and turned to the potted plants that separated our table from Cammy’s cousins. “Next time we’ll have to dine at a more refined place. Or a quieter one.”

  I took a breath and reiterated what I’d said. This time without my feet tapping on the floor. “The sale of Two Witches would provide enough equity for me to become your business partner. The top portion of the hill with only the house would more than get me in the front door.”