Pinot Red or Dead?

by J. C. Eaton

  “No! It’s a twitch. In my right eye. Look carefully. Does it resemble Quasimodo?”

  “I don’t see anything,” Theo said.

  Don leaned in even closer. “Yeah, me either. If it’s any consolation, eye twitches always feel far more dramatic than they appear. Must be nerves, huh?”

  I grimaced. “You can say that. Anyway, our entire crew is here and they’re busy getting all the food ready. The lawyers are here, too, and they brought Thane Eldridge with them.” I looked around to make sure no one could hear us. “He’s that bank CEO who’s been arrested for some sort of discrepancy. You know the one I’m talking about—the bigwig who had a falling out with Arnold.”

  “Looks like we might be in for some surprises tonight,” Theo said. “We’ll go to the kitchen and see if anyone needs any help with anything. If not, we’ll gossip.”

  I laughed as the two of them took off their coats and headed to the kitchen. I was standing by the hallway mirror when the door opened again, and Godfrey Klein stepped in.

  “Whoa, Norrie! I almost bumped into you. I’ve got to admit, this is, by far, one of the strangest event invitations I’ve ever received and that includes my cousin Heidi’s gender reveal party for her first child. As party favors, we all got copies of her latest sonogram. By the way, the baby was a boy…if you were wondering.”

  “Huh? What? Um, thanks for coming. The lawyers are here as well as Don and Theo from the Grey Egret and, of course, our employees. So far, none of the other attendees have made it. Oh wait, let me rephrase that. The lawyers brought Thane Eldridge with them. He’s the CEO from Seneca Lake Communities Bank who was recently arrested but is now out on bail. White collar crime, not some lunatic.”

  “Terrific. That’s always reassuring. So, is there anything you want me to do? I mean, other than find a seat and watch the…the, er…proceedings?”

  “That’s about it. Make yourself comfortable. You can put your coat in the office or use the rack near the door. I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but if a guy with chubby cheeks and a bad comb-over tries to make a run for it, he’s the killer. Don’t worry—I have a plan in place.”

  Godfrey rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh brother.”

  He headed to the banquet room where Marvin and Bradley were setting up their visual shrine to Arnold.

  Figuring I should pop into the kitchen to give Fred and Emma a quick “hello,” I took off as well. That was when I heard the door open behind me, followed by Miller Holtz’s voice.

  “Damn sand and salt trucks. They’re all over the place slowing down traffic. Impossible to pass one of them. What’s the matter with those morons at the highway department? It’s hardly snowing and look at all the taxpayer resources they’re wasting. That storm isn’t supposed to get here for hours.”

  Immediately, I doubled back and ushered Miller Holtz inside. “Hi, Mr. Holtz. Come on in. I guess the county’s just taking precautions. Usually they wait awhile.” Just like the deputy sheriffs around here who haven’t arrested you yet.

  “Morons,” he muttered. “Where is everyone?”

  “Mr. Souza’s in the banquet room, along with his partner and some other guests.”

  “Don’t tell me they dredged up long-lost relatives of Arnold’s.”

  “Nope, nothing like that.”

  “I better not have missed anything.”

  “You haven’t. We’re just waiting for a few more attendees to arrive. Non-relatives. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. We have drinks, coffee service, and a midnight buffet.”

  “Hmm, haven’t been to one of those in years. Damn cruise ships stopped holding them.”

  With that, Miller tossed his coat on the rack near the door and walked straightaway to the banquet room. Only four guests remained to arrive—the nuns and Clayton LeVine.

  I had told Theo and Don to make sure they seated themselves behind Clayton, even if it meant trading places with someone.

  “Tell whoever you’re ousting you want a better view,” I said when we first discussed the plan. “Tell them you’re considering going into law and you need to familiarize yourselves with the procedures.”

  “How about we shove them out of their seats and tell them we’ve had a bad day?” Theo replied, at which point, I dropped the subject.

  I took out my cell phone and glanced at the time—11:43. We still had time. I went into my office and looked out the window. Miller was right. It was snowing outside but there was still plenty of visibility. I could make out my house and the south side lights from across the lake. I blinked for a moment and looked out the window again. Headlights. Hallelujah! It had to be Clayton’s car or the one bringing the nuns.

  I prayed Clayton wouldn’t show up at the last minute and ruin everything. It appeared as if Marvin wanted to get the whole will-reading nightmare over with as quickly as possible, and I figured he’d launch right into it the minute everyone was accounted for. I needed, or I should say, Theo and Don needed the time to run their little dialogue past Clayton.

  The headlight beams looked too high up to be a car or even an SUV. I all but pressed my nose to the window. It was a minivan. Not one of those sleek family vans that tout adventurous living, but a long, boxy van that

  schools used to transport children during field trips. Unless Clayton had traded in his Mazda for this contraption, it had to be the nuns. But why a minivan for only three people?

  Chapter 25

  I remained glued to the window, watching as the van pulled into our parking lot and drove straight up to the front entrance. Thankfully, our outdoor lighting gave off enough illumination for me to get a good look at the passengers as they approached our building. It also gave off plenty of light for me to read the faded banner on the side of the vehicle—Holy Sepulcher Convent and School. They must have kept their old field trip van.

  Sister Mary Katherine exited first from the side of the van, followed by Sister Gloria and a third nun, who I assumed was Sister Celeste. All three of them were wearing ankle-length black coats and, heaven help me, traditional black head coverings.

  Maybe the reading of the will was more formal than I realized.

  I watched as the three Sisters followed each other in a single line and wondered if they invited their driver inside. If not, I was going to do so. No one should have to wait in a cold vehicle for hours. All of a sudden, more nuns exited the van. I stopped counting at five and rushed into the kitchen.

  “Fred! Emma! Cammy!” I shouted. “Brace yourselves. Looks like the entire Convent of the Holy Sepulcher came. We weren’t planning on that many people. Do we have enough food for eight or nine more?”

  Fred handed a spatula to his wife and walked over to the doorway where I was standing. “It’ll be fine. Absolutely fine. You’re only talking eight or nine more people, not eighty or ninety. We’ve got more than enough food, thanks to the late Mr. Mowen’s wishes for something extravagant, plus we’ve got lots of things we can defrost and prepare at the last minute.”

  My pulse was racing, but at least I wasn’t hyperventilating. I looked at Cammy. “Chairs. We’re going to need more chairs. Set up lots of rows.”

  I wasn’t sure if she gave me a wave or a salute, but she took off for the small storeroom where we kept the extra folding chairs. Fred and Emma told me to calm down and that everything was totally under control.

  In my mind, I was the epitome of “grace under pressure,” but Theo, who caught sight of me on his way to the restroom, later told me I looked like Hermione Granger after she fought off the troll. Somehow, I managed to open the front door and welcome the nuns inside.

  The Triumvirate had opted for formal black veils that concealed a good portion of their faces, while the younger nuns dressed in the same plain, beige attire I had seen them wear on the two occasions I had visited their convent.

  “Welcome,” I said. “Please make you
rselves comfortable in our banquet room. We have coffee service, cold drinks, and a variety of canapes and light foods. Mr. Souza will begin the reading once everyone has arrived. We’re still expecting one more person.” And darn it all! Where the heck is that conniving Clayton? He’s going to get here so late it’ll be impossible to rat him out.

  I caught a whiff of that familiar cloying smell as I ushered the nuns into the banquet room. Maybe it was their soap. Or shampoo…I wondered if they all had to use the same brand.

  The additional table was set up and covered with one of our fancy brocade tablecloths. Off-white from having been laundered so many times. Still, it looked lovely. Except for one thing. Make it five things. There were four framed 8 x 12 photos of Arnold and one larger gold-leaf framed photo—at least 18 x 24—that faced the audience.

  “The many faces of Arnold Mowen” glared at the attendees like something out of a macabre movie. I shuddered and took a step toward the buffet table. Miller Holtz piled enough food on his plate to feed a football team, while Thane Eldridge and Marvin Souza went straight for the wines. Maybe they’d already tasted the food.

  “I feel as if this is a sentencing and not a reading of someone’s will,” Bradley whispered from behind.

  I spun around. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were right behind me.”

  “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard. Cripes. I can’t wait till this is over. Once Marvin gets a drink in him, he’ll be ready to start.”

  “Not yet. He can’t!”

  Bradley narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Clayton’s not here.”

  “Maybe he decided not to come. Those things happen, you know.”

  Then, from a few feet away, I heard “Psst” and turned to see Don motioning to me.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Bradley. “I need to go. If you can, try to keep Marvin occupied until Clayton walks in.”

  I hurried over to Don and held both palms out in front of me. “What? What’s the matter?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, your man-of-the-hour hasn’t arrived yet, and it’s two minutes to midnight. Theo keeps running in and out of the restroom to practice his lines. He’s driving me nuts. What’s with Clayton? It’s snowing a bit, but I checked my county road app and the roads aren’t bad. Maybe he changed his mind.”

  “Geez, that’s just what Bradley said a minute ago.”

  I glanced at the buffet table again. This time, it was overtaken by a flurry of nuns. Well, the young ones anyway. Sisters Mary Katherine, Gloria Mae, and Celeste were huddled together off to the side in the front row, facing the large rectangular table where Marvin would be addressing the audience.

  “By the way,” Don asked, “Who’s the guy standing next to Miller Holtz? He looks like he’s still in high school.”

  “Yikes. He better not be or we’ll be in trouble for serving alcohol to minors. I better go check.”

  By now everyone seemed to be milling around the room as if it was a cocktail party. I felt a tap on my arm and turned to see Sister Gloria Mae. Somehow she must have escaped from the clutches of the other two.

  “He’s pretty good looking, huh?” she said.

  “Who?”

  “Our delivery driver. Don’t act coy. You’ve been staring at him. Can’t say I blame you, but he’s probably a few years younger than you.”

  “I wasn’t…I mean, okay, I was, but not what you think. I was hoping he didn’t turn out to be an underage drinker.” And I’m glad he’s not sacked out in your van.

  “He’s not underage. I can assure you of that. That’s Rob Tapscott, one of our delivery guys. When Sister Katherine asked if he’d be willing to drive us here tonight in our old school van, he agreed. He even put on the snow tires and made sure the van was in decent condition since it hadn’t been driven in eons. We’re hopeful, you know. About things going well tonight so we can expand and start up our school again.”

  I swallowed and bit the bottom of my lip, not knowing quite what to say. At that second, Glenda and Lizzie walked past us, each carrying a tray of appetizers. One whiff and I excused myself from Sister Gloria Mae. No way was I about to let Miller Holtz pile on the skewered scallops and bacon without trying a few myself.

  Like a homing pigeon, Miller moved from the end of the table that featured the sausage stuffed mushrooms directly toward the spot where Glenda and Lizzie placed their trays. Rob Tapscott was behind him.

  “You’ve got a decent spread here,” Miller said to me. “Think I’ll try a few of those scallop things and get another glass of wine. You need to tell your employees over there that this is a drinking, not a tasting.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be happy to refill anything you’d like,” I replied, turning my head slightly so I could read Sam and Roger’s faces. Both of them snarled.

  Out of nowhere, Marvin Souza cleared his throat. He followed by picking up a wineglass and tapping it with a spoon. “I’d like to get this evening’s reading of Arnold Mowen’s will started if you don’t mind. Please, everyone, be seated.”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed trying to buy more time for Clayton to arrive. “Be seated, but make sure you’ve filled your plates with our delectable canapes. If you’d like more wine or coffee, our staff is at your service. Oh look! Is that a new tray of beef with roasted chestnuts?”

  Marvin stormed over to Bradley and I imagine he told his partner to help hurry things along. Meanwhile, I left the banquet room to look out the window again. Dammit! Where the heck was Clayton? And, for that matter, where was Theo?

  With my gaze fixed on Marvin and Bradley, I didn’t notice Miller brush past me until I spotted him a few feet away, his voice booming. “Don’t start the revolution without me! Got to visit the little boys’ room for a minute.”

  He was followed by Rob Tapscott, who looked as if he had been holding it since he and the nuns left Lodi. Marvin and Bradley had seated themselves at the front table and were shuffling some documents around. Then, in a flash, Clayton LeVine marched into the room, shook the damp snowflakes from his jacket, and looked around. His chubby cheeks had turned a bright crimson, and I half-expected smoke and fire to flare from his nostrils.

  “I would’ve been here an hour ago if it wasn’t for the fact I had to follow Ma and Pa Kettle all the way from Seneca County to Route 14, where I could finally go the speed limit. And for those of you who don’t know who Ma and Pa Kettle are, go rent an old black and white movie! Honestly, fifteen miles an hour because they saw one snowflake. Why don’t they move to Florida with the rest of the geezers? Those old coots who drive below the speed limit are more of a hazard than the ones who hammer hard on the gas pedal. Oh, before I forget, this needs to go on the table with the other photos of Arnold.”

  Clayton reached into a briefcase he was carrying and took out a framed 8 x 12 photo of the two of them. Arnold’s arm was around Clayton’s shoulder. It looked like some sort of celebration, although neither of them appeared to be smiling. He plunked it on the table, upstaging the other photos.

  “Mr. Mowen and I were like this.” Clayton held up two crossed fingers and waved his hand in front of the people who were seated.

  Thane Eldridge, still holding a glass of wine, was off to the side near the buffet. He cleared his throat. “The only thing that man was close to was money and, in his case, it was mine. I expect that will be reconciled in his will.”

  The last thing I needed was a confrontation between Clayton and Thane. I grabbed Clayton by the arm and waved my hand at the buffet. “You must be hungry. Especially after such a miserable drive. Why don’t you take a seat and have some food? Food always helps. Here, looks like the second row is wide open. Take a seat. I’ll bring you a plate of canapes.”

  Clayton didn’t need any prodding. Don immediately took the seat right behind him and gave me a wink. Still no sign of Theo.

  How long does that guy
need to rehearse one line?

  A few of the nuns were still at the buffet table, and I could tell Marvin was getting edgy because he kept tapping the table with his pen and taking deep breaths. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few seconds, Miller and Rob returned to the room, followed by Theo.

  I was about to hand Clayton a plate of skewered shrimp and scallops when Theo almost knocked me over. “I overheard a conversation in the restroom. It’s very—”

  “Later. It’ll have to wait, Theo. We’re about to get started. Quick! Go sit next to Don and break a leg!”

  I handed Clayton the plate and rubbed the back of my neck. It was killing me from pent-up nerves. I must’ve grimaced because Godfrey noticed.

  “Are you all right? I was just about to sit down when I saw you. Did you move suddenly and wind up with a stiff neck?”

  “Huh? What? No. I’m fine. Only stretching, that’s all.”

  “I don’t know about you, but from where I’m standing, the tension in this room is palpable.”

  I looked at the audience and began to think Godfrey was right. Miller and Rob, for reasons unbeknownst to me, appeared to be arguing, but at least they kept their voices down as they took seats next to each other in the third row, opposite from Don and Theo.

  Sister Mary Katherine was devoid of all expression, but Sister Gloria Mae looked as if she had paid admission to a feature film. As for Sister Celeste, it was anyone’s guess. Her veil covered most of her face, unlike the head coverings the other Sisters were wearing. Maybe she ordered a size too large.

  I walked to the edge of the rows and leaned in next to Theo and Don. “Now!” I mouthed. “Now!”

  Don leaned forward, so he was only a few inches from Clayton’s neck. “I’m not kidding,” I heard Don say. “I got this from a buddy of mine who works for the Seneca County Sheriff’s Department. They’ve got a tape of some guy breaking into that Lavettia woman’s place and wiping down chair bottoms. Probably removing his fingerprints. Has to be the killer. It’s just a matter of time until they catch him.”