A Case of Syrah, Syrah

by Nancy J. Parra

  I left Clemmie at Holly’s and brought Millie home with me. The cat would have been freaked out by all the workmen. Besides, Holly hadn’t figured out how to get Clemmie back into her carrying case yet. Millie, on the other hand, loved all the attention from the crew. Every workman had to scratch her ears or her chin. After the work was done and the living room was darkened by plywood, I did the right thing and called the vet.

  “Petside Paws,” said the receptionist.

  “Hi, this is Taylor O’Brian. I’m calling regarding the microchipped cocker spaniel I found and brought in a few days ago. Were you ever able to get ahold of her owners?”

  “The number had been disconnected,” the receptionist said. “We sent a letter to the address. It might take a while. Is the puppy still doing well?”

  “She is, and I love her,” I said, “so I’m not in any hurry to give her up.”

  “Well, she will need her shots since we don’t have shot records on her. So let’s make an appointment for two weeks from now. Okay?”

  “Sounds good,” I said and made the appointment. That lightened my heart a bit. Surely if the owners hadn’t responded by then, it would mean they weren’t going to, right? Then maybe, just maybe, she would be mine forever.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Aunt Jemma had a tour group come in for some wine tasting. We were busy at the barn for an hour. Afterward I called Sally.

  “Hi, Sally, it’s Taylor,” I said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m having a rough time,” Sally said, sounding teary. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe anyone would hurt Laura. It’s devastating. I go from anger to sorrow and back again.”

  “Do you know if anyone on the team had any problems with Laura?”

  “No, we all worked very hard to understand each other. Listen, Laura knew she could come on strong, but she was working on that. Everyone knew she was working on that. She listened if you took the time to tell her what you were feeling.”

  “She sounds like she was trying to be a good person,” I said soothingly.

  “She was,” Sally said. “I worked with her for almost ten years. She was always trying to improve.”

  “And yet she was sometimes rude and often mean, you have to admit. Even I felt that.”

  “I would say she was intense, yes, but well meaning,” Sally said. “Like I said, everyone tried to understand Laura. Besides, why would we hurt her? She was our employer. Now we all have to find new jobs. That’s no small feat at my age. I’m going to have to do more independent small-business work. Luckily Dan said he’d give me a good reference.”

  “Oh, that’s very nice of him,” I said. “I’m so sorry for your loss. What about the others? I spoke to Amy, and she seems to have some prospects, but what of Emma, Rashida, and Juliet?”

  “The ladies are devastated. They’ve been asking me if I can recommend any other yoga teachers they can continue with. I’ve given them the names of a few of Laura’s mentors. Maybe one of them will know someone else on Laura’s level.”

  “I certainly hope so,” I said. “Are you sure no one was upset with Laura?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Sally asked, sounding a little affronted.

  “Sheriff Hennessey told me that Laura had an SD chip on her with all our personal information. Do you know why she’d have that?”

  “I have no idea,” she said and paused. “Wait. I take that back. Laura was making a copy for me. I had a computer virus meltdown of my hard drive. I asked Laura to give me the information she keeps on her backup hard drive. We didn’t want to send it over e-mail since that is easily hacked.”

  “So the SD card was for you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “That’s a relief,” I said. “I didn’t like to think that perhaps Laura was trying to sell our information.”

  “What? No! She would never do that. There is no way she would’ve sold out her team. After all, she staked her reputation on them.”

  “Thanks, Sally,” I said. “I understand there’ll be a memorial the end of the week?”

  “Yes, at Admen’s funeral home. Dan said Laura had wanted an outdoor ceremony. It’s at four PM on the hill.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be sure to send flowers,” I said. With the way Dan felt about me, I thought it was best I didn’t attend.

  After talking to Sally, I called Amy and made plans to have her come over for dinner and drinks later. She might be able to shed more light on Rashida.

  Meanwhile, I continued my research. Rashida’s website and social media presence told me that she was a yoga teacher and a fitness guru. She counseled people on physical, mental, and emotional health through diet and exercise. Her website was stunning. All in all—at least on paper—she looked like she wouldn’t hurt a flea. Could she have done this alone? Or did the group of three do this together? It was an interesting question. Maybe if I dug into the others as well, I could answer a few lingering questions. I went back to my computer and did some background checking.

  “How’s the sleuthing going?” Aunt Jemma asked as she walked into the house.

  “How did you know I was—never mind,” I said with a sigh. There was very little that got by Aunt Jemma. “The new window glass is ordered, but we’re stuck with plywood for a week to ten days.”

  “Good. That feels safer,” she said and got coffee from the pot. “Now what are you researching?” She sat down across the table from me.

  “I was renewing my efforts to look into Rashida’s background,” I said. “She seems legit. But you know, I was thinking: What if Laura insulted these ladies like she did her other staff members who quit?”

  “She insulted other staff members?”

  “Yes, Amy said that Laura tended to speak without thinking. Apparently she had a habit of screaming that she couldn’t trust anyone to do anything right.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Right? Overreact much? Anyway, some members of the team took it as a huge insult and quit.”

  “They quit?”

  “Yes, they cited micromanaging as a huge issue. I know Laura could bulldoze her way into getting what she wanted at any cost. She was not fun to work with on the tiny tour we took.” I shrugged. “But that didn’t mean I wanted her dead. It could be that none of the people on the tour wanted her dead.”

  “I don’t know,” Aunt Jemma said. “Still waters run deep and all that.”

  “That’s why I invited Amy to dinner and drinks,” I said. “I want to pick her brain again. Surely everyone wasn’t happy working with Laura if I had trouble working a small event with her.”

  “Best of luck there,” Aunt Jemma said. “Do you have a tour today?”

  “No, I pushed it back to tomorrow,” I said. “How about wine tastings?”

  “The weekdays aren’t as good as weekends,” Aunt Jemma complained. “The boys are mulching the vines today. I’m going to my mah-jongg group.”

  “So Millie and I are home alone?”

  “The boys are outside,” Aunt Jemma said. “You’ll be fine.” She paused. “What if Amy is the killer? What if you are inviting the killer into our home?”

  “Amy is not the killer,” I said with confidence.

  “Maybe that’s what she wants you to believe.”

  “Oh, Aunt Jemma.” I got up and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for being so special.”

  “You’re welcome,” Aunt Jemma said. “Someone has to think things through for you.”

  Chapter 14

  “My life is a living nightmare,” Holly said as she came into the tasting room. “Every time the mail comes, I cringe at the next notice of payment due.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s really frustrating.” She sat on a stool, and I poured her an ounce of the nice petite sirah that was open. “Apparently they went down the five and hit every gas station, big-box store, and convenience mart between here and Los Angeles. Bogus checks are popping up left and right.
I know the bank woman personally now. ‘Hi, Francine, how are the grandkids?’”

  “Oh, honey.” I went around and gave her a hug.

  “Then they sold the ID because not only did they try to get a mortgage in Georgia, but someone bought a used car in Alabama, and don’t even get me started on the Internet charges.”

  “But you’ve frozen everything, right?”

  “Yes, of course.” She swigged the wine and sent me a harried look. “But bad news keeps coming. I have collection agencies after me. I send them to my lawyer—who is costing me a fortune, by the way—but they’re still calling. I have to get a new phone number, but I can’t because I froze my accounts.”

  “What? Surely you can—”

  “No, I needed to freeze my credit reports so that no one can open a new account, not even me.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “So are the mountains of paper work and e-mails and phone calls I’ve been getting. Luckily I haven’t had to pay anything yet, but my name is trashed. It’ll take years to remove this from my credit report. Did I tell you I called the police and filed a report? I demanded that when they find these guys, they prosecute to the fullest. They looked at me and said, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ But I could tell they didn’t have much hope.”

  “So they aren’t going to find them?”

  “No.” She pouted and tapped her wineglass. I poured her another tasting ounce. “My lawyer says they probably moved on the minute I started to get notifications.”

  “Now you have alerts set up, right?”

  “Oh, yes. When they call and ask me if I’m in Austin, Texas, buying a round for the bar, I tell them no!”

  “What?”

  “Yes, that happened. Also, they rang up thousands of dollars in international phone calls.”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

  “I wish I were,” she said with a sigh. “It’d be easier if I changed my name and started all over again.”

  “But people in the art world wouldn’t know you,” I pointed out.

  “True, my name and reputation for fine art sales is still good, thank goodness.”

  “This too will pass,” I said.

  “Not fast enough,” she groused.

  “Want to have dinner with Amy and me?”

  “Sure. Who’s Amy again?”

  “Amy Hampton is—was—the coordinator for Laura’s yoga mastermind business. I want to ask her a bit more about the three yoga teachers who were on the retreat.”

  “I thought she said no one would hurt Laura.”

  “Yes, well, now that she’s had time to think about it, that might’ve changed. I want to ask her some new questions.”

  “Ask who some new questions?” Amy asked as she walked into the tasting barn.

  “Hi, Amy,” I said and went around to give her a hug. “This is my friend Holly Petree. Holly, Amy Hampton. Holly’s going to have dinner with us as well.”

  “Cool. Nice to meet you,” Amy said and shook Holly’s hand. While Holly was tall and thin, Amy was short and round, but they had the same sparkling personality. I poured Amy some wine.

  “Holly had her identity stolen,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “That happened to me too. In fact, everyone at yoga mastermind had it happen at one time or another. It’s a real mess.”

  “That’s strange, don’t you think?”

  “Not really,” she said with a shrug. “We were a small business, and the firewalls weren’t what they should be. There are hackers everywhere these days.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said.

  “Laura and Dan had to get us all identity-theft insurance. That way we were all pretty well contained. What did the thieves get from you? Your bank account?”

  “And my social security number and my address. It’s crazy. I hope they enjoyed their little crime spree on the five.”

  “They hit everything down the highway?”

  “Yes, then they sold my numbers to some giant list because I keep getting notices from different states about big-ticket items. I can’t wait to see what small items start popping up. You know, things too small to trigger alerts.”

  “Set your alerts for a dollar,” she suggested. “It’s what I did.”

  “Wow,” I said and poured us all another bit of wine. “I didn’t realize how common it was.”

  “I know,” Amy said. “You think that those things only happen to someone else until it happens to you.”

  Holly put her elbow on the bar and held her cheek. “Did you change your name? I’m thinking about changing my name and starting over.”

  “Ha!” Amy laughed. “No, silly, it still follows you. Think of it as a life moment. That’s what Laura always said.”

  I finished fiddling with my phone and cut into their banter. “I’ve called us an Uber to go to Stan’s Diner for dinner. I hope that works.”

  “It does,” Amy said.

  “I’m in,” Holly agreed.

  We kept up the small talk until after our meal of gluten-free veggie pizza.

  “The wine here isn’t as good as your aunt’s,” Amy said.

  “Thanks,” I said and saluted her with the wineglass. “Didn’t you say that everyone at Laura’s business had had their identity stolen at one point or another?”

  “Yes, like I said, I didn’t really think anything of it. We went through a spurt there where every week it seemed like a new member was having their information stolen. Then Laura paid to have an IT expert put in stronger firewalls and got everyone identity-theft insurance.”

  “Did you know that the police found an SD card on Laura that had a list of members with all their account numbers, social security, et cetera?”

  “No,” Amy looked horrified. “No, Laura would never put that all in one place. The lengths she went through to protect our identities cost her too much for her to undo it all like that.”

  “Is there anyone else who might’ve taken the information and put it on an SD card?” Holly asked.

  “No,” Amy said.

  “But Sally told me that she and Laura did it to pass information back and forth.”

  “Well, I don’t know why Sally said that, but I can promise you Laura would never be so careless with that kind of information as to bring it on a retreat.”

  “Maybe someone gave it to her on the retreat,” I suggested.

  “Maybe someone was trying to steal the information,” Holly said. “Laura caught them, took it away, and they killed her for it.”

  “Wow, creepy,” Amy said. “We were all pretty upset about the identity theft. Laura would’ve become unhinged if she discovered someone in the group was doing it.”

  “This takes my thinking in a whole new direction,” I muttered.

  “Why? What were you thinking before?” Amy asked.

  “Did you notice that Rashida started out our hike with a jacket, and yet it wasn’t with her when we left? She didn’t mention losing it.”

  “So you think it was evidence she destroyed?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted, “but I was wondering if Rashida and Laura really truly got along?”

  “As I told you earlier, we might not have always got along, but overall we were still like family. I mean, we all had our tiffs now and then . . .”

  “What about the other two ladies?”

  “Same thing,” Amy said. “Although all of the yoga teachers were upset because Laura and Dan decided to increase the cost of their services by nearly double. They were trying to make a profit this year. They had some outstanding bills.”

  “So the ladies were unhappy.”

  “Emma, Rashida, and Juliet got a deep discount as members of the team, but that was ending in January. Laura wanted to only offer them ten dollars an hour to act as mentors. Meanwhile, they’d have to pay thousands to stay in her mastermind classes.”

  “I don’t understand the logic. Why would she do that?” Holly asked.

  “Well, Laura figured she
had other yoga teachers who’d love to make a little extra cash by being her mentors. So the ladies had to either suck it up or let it go. There was quite a bit of conflict there.”

  “Enough for all three to murder Laura?”

  “All three?”

  “Well, they alibied each other,” I said. “No one mentioned the jacket. I only realized it was missing because of the photos I took on my phone before we started.”

  “I suppose they could have done something like that,” Amy said. “So why kill Laura? Because she was cutting their pay?”

  “When I was researching online, I noticed that the ladies posted notices to Laura’s clients offering their services now as lead mentors,” I said. “Their websites and e-mail newsletters are full of condolences and stepping in to fill the void.”

  “So not only would they get rid of Laura and her new policy, but they’d retain their clients and keep the fees for themselves?” Holly asked.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “Do the police know about this?” Amy asked.

  “I need more evidence before the police will act,” I said. “I was hoping you could tell me more, and you did.”

  “But you’re going to the police, right?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m serious about solving this thing.”

  “Why are you taking it so personally?” Amy asked. “It’s not like you did it. Right?”

  “Someone threw a rock through Aunt Jemma’s front window last night.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “The word ‘murderer’ was written on the rock,” I said. “I need to clear my name and ensure nothing bad happens to my family.”

  “I certainly hope you do that soon.”

  Me too.

  Chapter 15

  Patrick woke me up by calling my cell phone. “Taylor, we need to talk.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked and sat up in my bed. A look at the clock told me it was six thirty AM.

  “I got a heads-up from the sheriff’s department. There’s been a new development in Laura’s murder case.”

  “Okay,” I said, “and it has to do with the rock that was thrown through my aunt’s window?”