A Riesling to Die

by J. C. Eaton

  “You sound like Cammy. That’s exactly what she said. Only not as eloquently.”

  “Norrie, this isn’t a game. This is scary business. Please. Don’t make another move until we’ve had time to talk.”

  “Don’t worry. The only move I intend to make is to get my screenplay done.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  I honestly tried to concentrate on my writing but unfortunately, all I could think about was Lucas Stilton and how he made me feel. I took a breath, opened a new file on the laptop and wrote down every single thing. If nothing else, I’d have plenty of fodder for my romances.

  Chapter 21

  I was positive I’d hear from Declan by the weekend or, at the very least, by Monday but five days had gone by and nothing. It was Wednesday morning and I was getting edgy. Maybe Lucas saw right through me and decided to try another tactic of his own. To make matters worse, Lizzie called the night before to ask if I was interviewing people properly.

  “You have to be direct, you know. Exceedingly polite, but direct. Nancy Drew always got straight to the point with refinement and charm.”

  If Nancy Drew were a real person, I would’ve reached out to strangle her. “I can’t just blurt out an accusation. I’m sleuthing, not interrogating.”

  “You won’t get anywhere if you’re too afraid to ask the real questions.”

  I thought about what she’d said and wondered if maybe it wasn’t time for me to confront Madeline Martinez. After all, Stephanie was certain she’d seen Elsbeth’s ugly green wagon in front of Madeline’s house on more than one occasion.

  You’re not going to upstage me, Nancy Drew.

  I decided to phone Madeline, but the landline began to ring before I could place my own call. I took a breath and picked up.

  “Good Morning. May I please speak with Miss Norrie Ellington?”

  The voice sounded fairly young and professional. A telemarketer maybe? I was about to give her the brush off when she continued.

  “This is Abigail Blake from the legal firm of Armstrong, Patel, Smolowitz and Tarrow. I’m calling from our New York office on behalf of our client, Vanna Enterprises.”

  Holy Cannoli. What the heck did I get myself into? “Yes?” My voice sounded tenuous and shaky.

  “Mr. Stilton and Mr. Roth directed our firm to prepare a partnership contract for you. They were quite insistent that it take top priority. I’m calling to let you know you’ll be receiving a FedEx delivery sometime today with the preliminary contract. You’ll need to review it with your attorneys. We’ve also made arrangements with one of our lawyers to peruse said contract with you. Mr. Arden Grant from our satellite office in Rochester will be calling to arrange that meeting.”

  I was still trying to get over my last meeting. Naturally, I froze at the thought of finding myself sitting across from another Lucas Stilton. I grabbed my laptop off the couch and immediately went to the search engine.

  “Does your firm have a website, Miss Blake?”

  “Certainly. It’s apstlaw.com.”

  My fingers flew across the keyboard, and I stared at their home page. Impressive. Offices in New York, Chicago and San Francisco, with satellite offices in those same states. I immediately went to the ribbon on top of the page that listed their attorneys and pulled up a profile and photo of Arden Grant. He looked to be in his fifties, bald with a large nose and hairy eyebrows.

  “Miss Ellington, are you still there? Miss Ellington?”

  “Oh, sorry. My phone slipped. Mr. Arden Grant, you said?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Fine. When will he be contacting me?”

  “Expect a call later today or first thing tomorrow. If I can be of further assistance, please don’t hesitate to call. All of our contact information will be in the package you receive.”

  “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

  It wasn’t as if I hadn’t expected to be offered a contract. I mean, that was exactly what I had proposed to Declan, well, Lucas, actually. But I’d expected Declan to show up with it and leave it for me to look over. Not some bigshot attorney for a huge firm. I felt as if things were snowballing around me.

  I couldn’t very well call the lawyers Francine and Jason had on retainer for the winery because I really wasn’t going to go through with this charade. I was merely creating a ruse, in exchange for information. Last thing I needed was to incur large legal fees over nothing. Instead, I did the next best thing. I changed out of my pajamas, washed up, fed the dog and powerwalked my way down the hill to the Grey Egret’s tasting room.

  Theo and Don both had customers at their tables but as soon as they saw me, they exchanged glances and Don came over to where I was standing. “I’ll be done in a jiffy. Theo and the rest of our staff can pick up. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Humph. That would be good news.”

  “Uh-oh. There’s juice in the kitchen. And cookies. Help yourself. I’ll be right in.”

  I poured myself a glass of apple juice and took one of the large oatmeal raisin cookies on a platter by the sink. A few minutes later, Don walked in and I told him about Abigail Blake’s phone call.

  “My God, Norrie. This is really getting out of hand. Theo told me about your meeting with Lucas Stilton last Thursday, but I never expected things to go so far.”

  “No kidding. I thought I’d be dealing with Declan, not his attorneys. Oh my God! What have I done?”

  “Calm down. Have some more juice. Let me think for a minute.”

  I took another sip of juice while Don popped a cookie in his mouth. When he was done, he reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Okay. From what you’ve said, all this attorney is going to do is to meet with you to go over the contract. That’s it, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “Fine. Fine. Theo can go with you. He was pre-law at Union College before he changed his mind.”

  Just then, Theo walked into the kitchen. “I heard the words ‘Theo’ and ‘pre-law.’ This isn’t sounding good.”

  Don explained my predicament and Theo looked absolutely stricken. “Pre-law. That was eons ago. I don’t remember anything and even if I did, it wasn’t that much to begin with. That’s like asking a pre-med student to perform open-heart surgery.”

  “No, it’s not. You can act. If it’s one thing you’re good at, it’s acting. Sit there and pretend you know what you’re doing.”

  Oh God. This is going to be a worse catastrophe than when I met with Lucas.

  Theo studied my face and didn’t say anything. He got up, poured himself a glass of juice and gulped it down. “Guess it’s our only recourse, huh?”

  Don and I nodded.

  “All right.” Then Theo looked at me. “Here’s our strategy. We let the Vanna Enterprises’s lawyer spell out the contract. Then we tell him we’ll be reviewing it for any revisions, modifications or clarifications. If you can think of other words, we’ll throw those in as well.”

  I got up and gave Theo a huge hug. Then I did the same with Don. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll let you know as soon as Arden Grant calls me. Oh my gosh! What if he wants his office to call your office?”

  Theo furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes. I hadn’t seen him look so intent. “Don’t say anything about having your lawyer attend the meeting. When Arden arrives, you can simply introduce me. Tell him you thought it best to have your attorney present.”

  “Where? Where present?”

  “At your house. No reason to meet at a restaurant or worse yet, at their satellite office. Insist he meet at your house.”

  I nodded and muttered, “My house…okay, my house.”

  “You’ll be fine, Norrie,” Don said. “Concentrate on the big picture and you won’t get unhinged. It’s too late to turn back now.”

  “Got it. Thanks again. I’d better let you
get back to work. I’ll call.”

  I walked back up the hill slowly. My hands were still shaking from the brief conversation I’d had with Abigail Blake, but my pulse wasn’t racing like it was a half hour ago. Small consolation. It was a quarter to eleven and I hadn’t eaten anything except oatmeal raisin cookies. I breezed through our tasting room and waved at Cammy, Lizzie and Roger.

  Fred had his back to me at the bistro and I called out to him, “Hi there! Good to see you. I’m starving as usual.”

  “Wow, you must be. This is early for you. What can I get you?”

  “Bacon and cheese panini with tomato.”

  “Done.”

  I sat down at one of the tables when Cammy came rushing over. “You walked through the tasting room so quickly I didn’t get a chance to talk to you. You got another floral delivery. It came about a half hour ago. The guy said he went to the house but no one was there and he didn’t want to leave the flowers wilting on the porch. He also thought Charlie might eat them.”

  “More flowers?”

  My face went from slightly warm to nearly hot. If the card is signed Lucas, I might as well pen my obituary.

  “Did you look at the card? Did you see who they were from?”

  “No, of course not. That’s private business. The flowers are in the kitchen. Day lilies, tiny little orchids, asters and mini carnations. Your admirer went all out.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “Fred!” I shouted. “I’ll be right back.”

  I charged to the kitchen and didn’t let out my breath until I took the card from the small envelope. It read:

  Sorry I missed our meeting and the bombshell you dropped on Lucas. We’ll talk as soon as I’m back in town. Maybe by then we’ll have something to celebrate. Lunch next week? Declan

  Cammy hovered over me and wouldn’t budge. “Are you all right, Norrie? You’ve been staring at that note without saying a word. Declan Roth again?”

  “Uh-huh. He’s out of town but the note didn’t say where. Listen, I may have gotten us in deeper than I expected, but it’ll be all right. I’ve got a lawyer. Sort of.”

  By the time I was done bringing Cammy up to speed with the phone call I got from Abigail Blake, Fred knocked on the kitchen door to tell me my panini was getting cold.

  “No worries. I’ll be right there.” I gave Cammy a sheepish grin. One I’d perfected in middle school. “Like I said, I have a lawyer.”

  As if my day wasn’t jarring enough, I had a surprise visit from Deputy Hickman about an hour after I’d returned to the house with the floral arrangement. The kitchen was beginning to resemble the waiting room at my dentist’s office. Too bad Grizzly Gary wasn’t intimidated.

  When I opened the door and invited him inside, motioning to one of the chairs at the kitchen table, he shook his head and stood perfectly still. At least he closed the door behind him leaving the hot air outside where it belonged. Unlike the winery, with its state of the art air-conditioning, our house was limited to a few ceiling fans and one portable one.

  “Good afternoon,” I said. “Are you here to tell me you caught Elsbeth’s killer?”

  His voice was loud and monotone. “The case, I’m afraid, is still open. I stopped by to inform you that the results from the tire markings were inconclusive. And, our analysis of Ms. Waters’s vehicle failed to yield any results.”

  “So, that’s it? You’re going to shove all the paperwork in a file, put it in a box and mark it Cold Case?”

  “Certainly not. We intend to re-question some of the winery owners and certain staff members who might have had strong motives to murder her.”

  I immediately thought of Stephanie and the way in which Elsbeth had cheated her out of the Tyler property, but I didn’t say a word. Deputy Hickman took out a small notepad and flipped through some pages.

  “Precisely what time was that flight your sister and brother-in-law took to Costa Rica?”

  “I thought I gave your department that information. You’re not suggesting they had anything to do with killing that old battleax, I mean…oh, what the heck. Elsbeth was a battleax. Francine and Jason took an early morning flight out of Rochester on a Friday. Elsbeth’s body didn’t arrive on our doorstep, so to speak, until the following day. Well, the night before, I suppose, but my family was already in Costa Rica. You can verify this with their airline.”

  “Not necessary. I need to be absolutely certain the information we took during our initial investigation hasn’t changed.”

  “If you’re looking for someone with a strong motive, try Vanna Enterprises. Those developers were anxious to buy her property.”

  “We’ve already questioned them, if you must know. It’s been my experience that these types of murders tend to be personal, not business related. That’s precisely why we intend to re-visit our conversations with the wineries.”

  Well, pooh for you. “Will you please let me know if you find out who did it? We’ve had to put barricades in front of our vineyard rows because the tourists are clamoring to see where the body was. It’s cost us time and money. I seriously doubt anyone who owns a winery on these hills would stoop so low as to dump a body in one of their neighbors’ vineyards.”

  “And again, Miss Ellington, that’s why I tell you, in all sincerity, leave the investigating to the professionals. Don’t think I haven’t been aware of what you’ve been up to.”

  Oh my God! Not the Lucas Stilton deal?

  He squinted and gave me an ugly stare. “It just so happens I was at Wegmans the morning you had that nice little chitchat with Mrs. Marbleton from Terrace Wineries. Together, the both of you could pen a crime novel.”

  “I can’t help it if people bring up the subject.”

  “Then change it! Anyway, I’ve got other stops to make. Have a nice day.”

  Ah-hah! The real reason for his visit. To warn me to stay away. “Wait! Before you leave, are any of our employees on your revisiting list?”

  Deputy Hickman perused his notepad and gave his head a shake. “Not at the moment.”

  He flung the door open wide and hot air rushed into the room for the second time that morning.

  Maybe his investigation was crawling at a snail’s pace but mine certainly wasn’t. The entrapment plan I’d devised, for lack of a better word, was about to go full swing. I figured the least I could do, in order to prepare for my meeting with Arden, was to Google some sample partnership documents. An hour and twenty minutes later, I wanted to scream from the highest rooftop. Limited partnerships. Voting requirements. Cost sharing. Nondisclosure agreements. Joint venture agreements. LCC’s. Maintenance of accounting. The list was endless.

  I stood, opened the fridge and poured myself a large orange juice. I was in over my head, but that didn’t mean I was about to drown. After all, I wasn’t the one presenting the contract, Arden Grant was. All I needed to do was sit there poker-faced and pray Theo retained something from those undergrad classes of his.

  The only good news, albeit temporary because things had a way of changing in a blink, was the fact none of the Two Witches’ employees were suspects. Not with Elsbeth’s murder, anyway. But I was certain it was Declan’s car I saw in front of the winery. Too bad I couldn’t tell who he was arguing with. Or which of the men said, “Like hell you will.”

  Franz, Alan and Herbert usually called it quits for the day around four, unless something really demanded their attention. I looked at the clock on the microwave. If I hurried, I could get to the winery lab before they were gone.

  In spite of the heat, my feet moved quickly as I ran down the hill. There was only one car left in their parking lot and it was Franz’s. The Volvo. I slowed down and took a breath before opening the side door and announcing myself.

  “I’ll be right there, Norrie,” Franz called out. “Feel free to sit at any of our desks.”

  Their small off
ice area looked as pristine as it did when Herbert first led me through there on my way to the lab. I pulled out a chair and was about to sit when Franz came in.

  “Is everything all right? Have you heard anything about the case?”

  “Yes and no. In that order. What about you? The lab? The fermentation or whatever else is going on?”

  “All of our processes are running smoothly and I’ve selected a few competitions for us to consider. Is that why you’re here?”

  The competitions. Damn it. I forgot all about them. “Franz, I trust your judgment on that. Select the ones you feel will give us the most exposure and you can go ahead and enter them. Just don’t go overboard. See Lizzie about the paperwork and fees.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for trusting my judgment. Was there anything else you needed?”

  “Sort of. A curiosity thing, really. Can you tell me what Declan Roth from Vanna Enterprises was doing at our lab about two weeks ago?” I’m out on a limb here. It better have been Declan Roth. “It was when I’d just arrived. I saw his car and I believe I heard him arguing with someone. Was that you?”

  “I wasn’t aware you knew Declan Roth. He and his partner, Lucas Stilton, have made offers to a number of winemakers in the area. When I told him I wasn’t interested, he insinuated he’d find a way to discredit our wines. I told him in no uncertain terms, it wouldn’t be in his best interests.”

  “Wow. I’m glad you set him straight.”

  “For now. I’m afraid he might make an offer to Alan, and I would hate losing him. He’s a very talented winemaker.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that. Those developers don’t even have a winery yet.”

  “True, but they have enough money to pay the existing winemakers decent salaries to sit back and wait while the wineries they worked at scramble to find replacements. It’s a nasty tactic. Winemakers can’t just walk in the door and start working. They’re usually groomed, and that takes time. Each winemaker has his or her own preferences regarding the winemaking process. Winemaking is a science and an art. We’re not flipping burgers here.”