Murders and Metaphors

by Amanda Flower

  My head snapped in the new speaker’s direction.

  A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair stood in front of Belinda with a scowl on his face.

  Belinda arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure that’s what you want me to write?” she asked coolly.

  “Yes,” the man said. “I think it’s best that you were honest for once in something that you write.”

  Belinda signed the book just like he’d asked her and gave it back to him. “I’m always honest.”

  He leaned over her. “Someday, your own words are going to come back to haunt you, and then you will be sorry.”

  Belinda still had the same pleasant smile on her face. “I doubt that.”

  “We will see about that,” the man said, and stalked out of the winery.

  “This is like watching a soap opera,” Grandma Daisy said.

  Sebastian shook his head. “Some people can’t take any criticism. Belinda wrote a review about his winery a couple of months ago and just told the truth about their mediocre vintage. The joke’s on him, since he bought the book, and she will receive the royalties on it.”

  At this point in the signing, there were only twenty people left in line waiting for their books to be signed. The very last person in line was a teenager dressed all in black. She had black hair that hung halfway down her back. She was hard to miss. There was something about the girl that was familiar to me. I guessed that she might have been a student at the community college where I was an adjunct professor. But I knew I had never had her in class. Perhaps I had seen her around the campus?

  Knowing the end was near, my stomach grumbled in protest that I hadn’t tasted any of the desserts or tapas that waiters were carrying around the room on trays. I was looking at the wine with interest too. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I could use a glass after the evening I’d had.

  As I scanned the room, I noticed my friend Lacey Dupont standing opposite me holding a copy of Belinda’s book to her chest. She stared at her sister with a look that was such a mix of fear and hope that it broke my heart. With no one at the sales table, I started toward her.

  My movement must have caught Belinda’s attention away from a man’s long-winded story while she signed two copies of her book for him. She looked up and locked eyes with Lacey. “Sebastian!” she called.

  Her fiancé was immediately at her side.

  “Get her out of here,” she hissed.

  Sebastian started toward Lacey.

  I stepped into his path. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  Belinda jumped out of her seat. “Can’t someone please remove that woman?” She waved her hand in Lacey’s direction.

  I turned. “Belinda, that’s your sister.”

  “I know exactly who it is, and I want her gone,” the wine expert snapped. She spun around and glared at Mrs. Morton. “Camille, I would have expected more of you, to follow all my rules to the T. Don’t you know the power I have?”

  Horror etched on Mrs. Morton’s perfectly made-up face. The last thing on earth the refined woman would want was an embarrassing scene at one of her events.

  Everyone in the room was staring now. Sebastian made a move to push me aside, but I jumped in his way again. “Belinda, this doesn’t make any sense,” I said in a low voice, hoping to bring some calm to the situation. “Why would you want your sister to leave?”

  “She’s no sister of mine,” Belinda spat, twisting her pretty face into an ugly mask. “Sebastian, would you do something?”

  In the time that we were speaking, Lacey crossed the large room still holding the book to her chest. “Hello, Belinda.” Her voice shook. “Can you sign my book?”

  Belinda glared at her. “No.”

  Lacey was crestfallen. “Please, I thought we might take the time to start over while you’re here.”

  Belinda laughed. “Why would I do that? I have no use for you after what you did to our family. How dare you come here and try to ruin this event for me! I always knew that you were jealous of all my success.”

  Belinda seemed oblivious to the scene she was causing. Lacey looked around the room, and her face was bright red. “Belinda,” she began.

  “Leave,” Belinda shouted back.

  “But—”

  Belinda pointed at her sister with her bejeweled hand. “You’re the reason that I need security while in this village. They told me you wouldn’t be here. They promised me you wouldn’t be here, but I know how you really are. I knew you would find a way to ruin my life a second time.”

  “You’re my sister, Belinda. I love you despite everything that has gone wrong in the past.”

  “It is easy for you to love me. I’m not the one who made the wrong choice, now, was I?”

  Mrs. Morton and Nathan hurried over to the table.

  Nathan took Lacey by the elbow. In a hushed voice, he said, “Lacey, if you and Belinda have some personal issues to settle, now is not the time nor the place.”

  With tears in her eyes, Lacey nodded and set a pink envelope on the corner of Belinda’s table. “I hope you will read the letter.”

  “Get that away from me,” Belinda said.

  Nathan scooped up the envelope and shoved it back into Lacey’s hand. “Lacey, please.”

  Lacey spun on her heel and fled from the room. I ran out of the signing after her and caught her in the hallway. “Lacey, wait!”

  She turned, and tears ran down her round cheeks. The silver barrettes that she always wore in her light-brown hair hung limply from her head. “I’m fine, Violet. Go back into the party. You’re here to work.”

  “You don’t look fine to me. What happened back there? What going on with your sister?”

  She removed a folded tissue from her pocket. “You heard her. She’s not my sister. I have nothing to say about it.”

  I blinked. This was nothing like the cheerful and optimistic Lacey I had known all my life.

  The kitchen door swung open, and Adrien came out. “Lacey, my love, what has happened? Why are you here? You said that you weren’t coming.”

  She turned toward him and cried into his shoulder.

  He lifted her chin. “I am proud of you for trying. It was very brave of you, ma chérie.”

  Tears ran down her face. “Just take me home, Adrien.” She buried her face into her large husband’s muscular shoulder again. “I just want to go home.”

  “I have to help clean the kitchen, my love, but with our staff, we will make short work of it. Then, yes, we will go home.”

  There was so much love and tenderness on Adrien’s face and in his voice, I knew Lacey would be in the very best hands.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll help clean up too. The work will do me good. I need something to do with my hands. It will give me time to clear my head. I always think better when my hands are moving.” She gave me a watery smile. “Thanks for checking on me, Violet. You are such a good friend to me. I’m so grateful that you’ve moved back to the village. Stop by the café tomorrow and I will explain. I can’t talk about it tonight.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  When I returned to the tasting room, Belinda’s chair was empty. Sebastian was gone as well. The elder Mortons stood on one side of the room with deep frowns on their faces. They would be looking for someone to blame for the ruined event, and I had a sneaking suspicion that that person was going to be me.

  My grandmother consoled the last few people in line who hadn’t gotten their books signed by the author. “We’re so sorry that the author had to leave early,” Grandma Daisy said. “But we will certainly have her sign all of your books. Just leave your name and book with me, and we will take care of it.”

  My grandmother’s speech seemed to appease the small group.

  I noticed that the girl with the black hair was no longer in the room. With things back under control, I thought it was a good time to check on Emerson. I had left my tote bag under the signing table, praying that the tuxie would follow my orde
rs and stay there, but when I opened the bag, I realized what a fool I had been. The cat was gone.

  Chapter Six

  “What’s wrong, Violet? How is Lacey?” Grandma Daisy asked.

  I chewed on my lower lip. “She’s with Adrien, but we have another problem now.”

  “What’s that?” She adjusted her glasses on her nose.

  “Emerson is missing.” I couldn’t keep the worry from my voice.

  She wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t really think that he would stay in that bag, did you?”

  “No,” I said, trying my best not to whine. “But I was hoping he would.”

  She arched an eyebrow at me.

  “But what other choice did I have but to bring him inside the winery? I couldn’t leave him in the car to freeze.” I shook my head. “We should have spent the extra time to take him back to the bookshop.”

  “Don’t worry.” She touched my arm. “We will find him.”

  “We have to,” I said.

  “We will.” She squeezed my arm one more time and then let go.

  Nathan came into the room shaking his head and looking like he’d gone three rounds with the village’s budget committee.

  “Nathan,” Mrs. Morton said. “One of the people leaving said they saw a cat run outside. How many times do I have to tell you boys not to let the barn cats into the house? You know how I feel about animals in the building.”

  My stomach dropped. That wasn’t a barn cat. I knew it in my bones.

  “What color was the cat?” I asked, inserting myself into their conversation.

  She scowled at me. “I believe that he said it was a black-and-white cat. A tuxedo, he called it.”

  “And where did he see it?” I asked as disinterestedly as I could.

  Her frown deepened. “Going out the back door.”

  Nathan watched me.

  “I’ll be right back to help pack up the books, Grandma Daisy.” I hurried through the room and into the back hall. As I scurried beyond the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of Adrien through the open door, but there was no sign of Lacey.

  I brushed past a man I didn’t know. I was so focused on finding Emerson, I didn’t even look at his face. All I saw were his shiny shoes. He made a faint noise as I forced my way by him.

  I ran out the back door without my coat even though it was freezing. I didn’t know where Grant had put it, and I didn’t have time to look for it. The severe cold took my breath away. I almost went back into the building. I wouldn’t do Emerson any good if I froze to death.

  A bundled-up woman carrying a battery-powered lantern walked toward the winery. She looked like she was ready to take part in the grape cutting that was to start within the hour. I had to find Emerson before that. All the commotion in the vineyard might scare him away, and he could get lost.

  “Did you see a black-and-white cat?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I tried to catch him, but he ran off into the vineyard. He’ll surely freeze if he spends the night out here.” She pointed. “He just went that way. Maybe if you hurry, you can catch him.” She handed me her lantern.

  Taking the lantern, I thanked the woman and ran into the endless rows of grapes.

  The path was dark. The only light came from the dimly lit lantern the woman had given me and the full moon. If it weren’t for the bright moonlight, I wouldn’t have been able to see but a few inches from the lantern. The grapes were frozen on the vines, glistening in the lantern light like tiny amethysts, and the remaining leaves on the vines were withered.

  “Emerson!” I called.

  There was no answer.

  I began to shiver violently. There was cold and then there was cold. This was the real stuff, the kind where you feel like you will never be warm again. The chill seeped into my bones. I thought about Emerson out in this cold, and tears leaked out the corners of my eyes and promptly froze to my cheeks.

  “Emerson! Emerson!” I called. Was he hurt? My heart clenched at the thought of losing the little cat. As frustrating as he could be, I loved him dearly and would be devastated if something happened to him.

  I called his name again.

  And faintly, not far off, a meow answered me.

  I stood very still before I took off into the vineyard and held my lantern high. I called again.

  A moment later the returning meow came. It was to my left, just down the second row of grapes. Up ahead I saw Emerson standing in the middle of the vineyard row. Relief washed over me. “Emerson, you gave me such a fright. You can’t run off like that, especially not on a night like this.” I stepped forward, and my relief was short-lived because the little tuxie took off down the row.

  I ran after him, forgetting the cold. Thankfully, the moonlight was so bright that his white markings were clear to see.

  The cold air burned the inside of my throat and chest as I ran down the long row of grapes. Emerson stood at the end of the row. I slowed my pace as I drew closer to him. I didn’t want to give him another reason to take off again. I bent at the waist. “Good kitty, good Emerson.”

  He just stared at me with his big yellow-green eyes. He didn’t move a muscle even when I stood next to him, but I wasn’t going to risk letting him stand there any longer, or worse, dart off into the endless rows of grapes. I scooped up the cat. The pink pads of his paws were like ice. I opened my velvet jacket and tucked the little cat inside, close to my heart. I buttoned the jacket up the best I could. The thin garment wasn’t warm enough for either of us in this weather. “We need to get you inside and warmed up. Mrs. Morton is going to lose it when she sees me walk into the winery with you, but that can’t be helped. It doesn’t matter anyway; she already believes that I single-handedly ruined her event.” My teeth chattered.

  Emerson nestled against me, and I braced my right arm under his body to keep him from falling out the bottom of my jacket. In my left hand, I held my lantern high. Somewhere in the vineyard, I could hear laughter that traveled far on the cold air. The guests were starting to come out into the vineyard to cut the frozen grapes from the vine. Perhaps I would be able to sneak back into the winery with the cat without being noticed. Wishful thinking, but at the moment, it was the best I had.

  I turned in the direction of the brightly lit winery, and my foot caught on what I believed to be a vine root. I stumbled forward and wrapped both arms around Emerson to avoid losing the cat again. I dropped the lantern in the process. The glass shattered, but somehow the battery-operated bulb survived the fall. Its yellow light shone on an unmovable woman’s face frozen to the ground.

  Chapter Seven

  “No, no, no, no. This is not happening. This can’t be happening!” I shook my head in denial like a toddler refusing to follow his parent’s instructions.

  I stared at the face on the ground. Despite my best protests, this was happening, but I was a master of denial and didn’t want to believe it. “Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” I told the woman on the ground.

  But my plea went unanswered as I knelt on the ground to take a better look at the woman. Belinda Perkins’s unseeing eyes stared back to me in the lantern light. Her once perfectly styled blonde hair was buried in snow, and she was dead, very dead. No amount of asking her to stay alive was going to change that. My biggest indicator was the curved grape-cutting knife sticking out her back.

  Her frozen face held a stricken look to it, as if she couldn’t believe that someone would stab her, stab her in the back. An unexpected betrayal.

  I jumped to my feet. The soles of my boots slipped on the snow-covered ground that had a sheet of ice underneath. I supported Emerson with my arms, holding him like a baby under my jacket. I needed to call the police, which meant Chief David Rainwater would be there soon. Rainwater would take care of this.

  I took two steps back, and my foot caught on something. I expected to hear the shatter of glass because glass from the lantern was everywhere, but it wasn’t that. It was a bracelet. I stooped to pick up t
he piece of jewelry. It was the large diamond bracelet Belinda had been wearing on her right wrist throughout the signing. Was this bracelet the reason she had been killed? Perhaps her attacker had struck her with the intent to steal it. If that was the case, he hadn’t done a very good job. I wondered if maybe he had been making his getaway from the murder and dropped the bracelet in the process. I glanced at her hand. The giant sapphire ring was still on her finger. When I looked closer, I saw something else under her hand. A pink envelope. I had missed it before because it blended into the snow. Belinda’s name in Lacey’s curvy script was clearly written on it.

  I tried to remember. Had Lacey left the letter with Belinda after all? After Belinda refused to take it? Or had Lacey tried to give her the letter again and stabbed her older sister when she didn’t take it? No, that couldn’t be. I shook my head even though there was no one there to see me do it. Lacey would never do that. Never. I couldn’t believe it.

  There were voices just a row away from me in the vineyard. I debated grabbing the letter and hiding it. I knew it would be evidence in the murder, but if I left it there, what would that mean for my friend? I was crouching to pick it up when I heard muffled footsteps coming toward me in the snow. I stood up straight and held Emerson closer to me.

  Nathan appeared in the moonlight. “Vi, have you completely lost your mind? Why did you run out of the winery like that? And what are you doing out here without your coat? Do you want to freeze to death?”

  “Not really.” I was shivering so hard my teeth chattered.

  Nathan removed his long wool overcoat and wrapped it around me. “Are you holding your cat? Why would you bring your cat to my family’s vineyard?” These were all understandable questions, but he didn’t give me time to reply.

  “I don’t know why you do what you do half the time. You can’t just run out of my mother’s party like that. Do you know how ridiculous you looked? Mother will never—”

  “Nathan, just listen to me for a second,” I cut him off, not caring what his mother thought of me. To be honest, I already had a good idea what it was.