A Case of Syrah, Syrah

by Nancy J. Parra

  “That’s crazy.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but the prosecution is trying to build a case against me, not anyone else.”

  “What will it take for them to drop the charges?”

  “At this point, the only thing I can imagine is if someone else admits they did it.”

  “But no one is allowed to talk to you,” Aunt Jemma said.

  “I know,” I said.

  “Then we’ll have to make them talk to me,” Aunt Jemma said and put her hands on her hips. “Whoever did this needs to be brought to justice. I’ll help you clear your name.”

  “You would?”

  “Yes, of course,” Aunt Jemma said. “Holly and I will take you to dinner tonight, and we’ll figure out what we can do to clear your name.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Jemma.”

  “Why don’t you take Millie and go on up to the house and rest?”

  “I think I’ll take a walk. Come on, Millie,” I said and called the pup from her bed behind the bar. We walked out into the quiet California evening as the sun was hitting the mountains. The air was moist, and the loamy scent of the grapevines turning for the fall tickled my nose. The best thing about wine country was that you could walk for miles through the grapes. It was sort of meditative—but this time, I had my phone on me and a small can of pepper spray to be safe.

  I went over the suspects in my head again as I walked. Clearly if there was blood on the jacket, Rashida could’ve been wearing it when she assaulted Laura. Jack Henry had said he’d found it partially buried. I wished that he had taken it to the police instead of me. But I had a feeling the prosecution would have used it against me either way.

  I found myself dialing Rashida. I had the phone number of everyone who had toured with me so I could call them with updates on the tours.

  “Hello?”

  “Rashida?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Taylor from the—”

  “Yes, what do you want, Taylor?”

  “Your jacket was found by a gardener at Quarryhill,” I said, trying to get some response from her.

  “My jacket?”

  “The one you were wearing the morning Laura died.”

  “Oh, that jacket. I thought I’d lost it for good. I think I took it off as we walked because I got hot. I thought I’d tied it around my waist, but it must’ve come undone. Where did they find it?”

  “Half buried near the waterfall.”

  “That’s odd,” she said.

  “It had Laura’s blood on it.”

  “What?”

  “It was given to the police, and they found Laura’s blood on it. It was suggested that the killer may have been wearing it to keep their clothing clean when they killed Laura.”

  “Oh, my gosh, that’s horrible.” Rashida sounded truly shocked and surprised. I frowned. She didn’t sound like a person caught in a lie. What if her story were true?

  “Rashida, do you remember if you gave your jacket to anyone? Did you see anyone pick it up?”

  “No,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t realize I didn’t have it until I went to put it on the next morning. I guess I was in such a state of shock over Laura that I didn’t realize it was missing.”

  “You think it fell off of you?”

  “Yes,” she said. “The material is slick, and I didn’t knot it very well. It’s happened before. Are you saying someone picked it up and wore it to kill Laura?”

  “That’s a possibility,” I said.

  “Surely if it were one of the staff members, they would’ve given it to me.”

  “Unless they wore it to kill Laura and incriminate you?”

  “Incriminate me? I—is that possible? Who? Maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you. Isn’t that what Dan’s lawyer said?”

  “So I’ve heard,” I said. “I wanted to let you know it was found and see if you knew anything about it.”

  “I don’t.” For the first time she sounded worried. “I’ve got to go. Bye.” She hung up on me. By now, the sun had set behind the mountains, and damp fog had started to roll into the depressions.

  “Come on, Millie,” I said after catching a sudden chill. “Let’s go home.” When I was a kid, everyone used to say that when a chill ran down your back, someone was walking on your grave. The last thing I wanted was to find out who.

  * * *

  “So Rashida didn’t know her jacket was used in Laura’s killing?” Holly asked as she, Aunt Jemma, and I sat around the fire pit and sipped wine.

  “No,” I said, “and I believe her.”

  “That means anyone who was in the park that day could’ve picked it up, used it to incriminate Rashida, and then buried it.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Anyone in the park.”

  “Except Rashida,” Holly said. “We’re ruling her out. Which means that the other two yoga teachers probably didn’t do it either since they were all each other’s alibis.”

  “Yes.” I frowned. “That leaves me with Sally, Amy, and Dan.”

  “It could have been someone who was there but not in your group,” Holly suggested.

  “Like who?” I asked.

  “Jack Henry Stokes,” Aunt Jemma said. “He is the one who gave you the bloody jacket.”

  “We need to find him and ask if he was there,” I said. “He might have seen who did it.”

  “Didn’t Anna say he made regular rounds?”

  “Yes, she said that the month she was at Quarryhill with her artwork, she saw him on the same days of the week.”

  “So let’s plan a trip to Quarryhill,” Holly said. “We can try to find Jack Henry.”

  “And we can re-create the events of the day,” Aunt Jemma said with excitement. “I can be Dan, and Holly can be Amy. We can test the theory that one of them had something to do with it.”

  “What about Sally?” I asked.

  “We’ll say she was with Amy for now.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m in,” Holly said.

  “Are you?” I asked Millie.

  She barked and wagged her tail. Hopefully a reenactment will bring us closer to the truth.

  Chapter 20

  No one was at Quarryhill when we pulled up. It seemed like most of the visitors came during the weekend. I was glad we had the place to ourselves. It would be difficult to reenact a crime with a bunch of families discovering the botanical gardens. I got a map of the gardens from the gift shop and spread it out on the picnic table. “Okay,” I said to my gathered troops. “We all started here.” I pointed to the beginning of the trail. “We took the trail up and looped around at the prayer tree before heading back down by the waterfall. We’ll walk it again today and re-create the moment of finding Laura. Okay?”

  “Got it,” Holly said.

  We started up the trail. I used my pictures from that day to help re-create moments. “After this sculpture,” I said, “Amy was behind me with the other yoga teachers. Sally was talking with me. Dan and Laura were ahead.”

  The two women positioned themselves. “Were we out of sight?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Yes, I think it was Millie, Sally, and me at this point. Laura and Dan were power walking, Amy more strolling.” We separated and walked until we reached the next sculpture point in my pictures that proved we were all together.

  “How long did you have to wait for me to arrive?” I asked Aunt Jemma.

  “Five minutes,” she said. “But Laura was here, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but they could’ve had a fight, and no one would have known.”

  “Oh, I think you would have felt the tension,” Holly pointed out.

  “Yes, true.” I chewed on my lip and then took out my water bottle to take a swig. “Did anyone see Jack Henry?”

  “No.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay, keep your eyes peeled. Aunt Jemma, meet us at the prayer tree. I think you’ll be there at least five minutes before I show. Holly, A
my, and I walked this route together. Sally was behind me with the other yoga teachers. Aunt Jemma, take Millie with you this time. I’m nervous about you being so far ahead by yourself.”

  “Okay, come on, pup. Let’s power walk.” She moved ahead of us on the trail.

  “I don’t think this is working,” I confided to Holly.

  “It’s early yet,” she said. “We don’t know. Maybe Aunt Jemma will see Jack Henry and have time to talk to him.”

  “I can’t imagine it being Sally, Amy, or Dan. Think about it. The killer had to get the corkscrew from my van. You’re both too far away to get it while I wasn’t watching.”

  “So maybe they didn’t go back for the corkscrew,” Holly suggested. “What if they had it on them?”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why would they be carrying my corkscrew?”

  “Maybe they brought wine on the hike with them and stuck the corkscrew in their pocket.”

  “No,” I said and shook my head. “Laura wouldn’t have let them indulge in wine while hiking, and neither would I. It’s dangerous, not to mention dehydrating.”

  “Hmm. I can’t think of any other reason for someone to bring a corkscrew other than premeditated murder. And we still haven’t established why someone would want to kill Laura. Maybe she was selling information and Dan found out. They fought, but she was an unrepentant criminal and was going to take Dan down with her.”

  “That sounds a bit out there,” I said.

  “What if Laura discovered that Dan was selling identities? They could’ve fought. She could’ve taken the SD card from him and gone to find a good signal to call the police,” Holly said.

  “I was able to contact everyone on the day of the murder, so I don’t think she would’ve had a problem with a cell signal.”

  “Too bad.” Holly made a face. “It was a good idea.”

  “Now debunked.”

  We arrived at the top of the hill to find Millie barking with joy. Her tail was wagging a mile a minute. I glanced around to see why—Aunt Jemma was talking to a shabbily dressed man.

  “It’s Jack Henry,” I said to Holly. “Come on.” We hurried over.

  “Hello,” I said as we arrived next to them.

  “Hello, Miss Taylor,” he said. “Your aunt tells me that the police are using the jacket against you in court.”

  “Yes,” I said, “unless my lawyer can get the judge to throw it out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Listen, do you remember seeing anything that day? Hearing anything?”

  “If you’re talking about the murder, no.”

  “Besides the murder,” I pushed. “I thought my group was the only one in the park. Did you see anyone else?”

  “Yes, I saw a woman alone. I thought it was a little odd because she parked on the side of the road and walked up. People usually park in the lot.”

  “A woman? What did she look like?” I asked.

  “She was as tall as you, slender, with mousy-brown hair. I remember because she wore all khaki and seemed to blend right into the scenery. The only reason I noticed her was because she parked where she did.”

  I looked at Aunt Jemma. “It sounds like Dan’s sister.”

  “Why would she come?”

  “Maybe Dan called her,” I mused. “When did you see this woman?”

  “About an hour after your group. You had to be heading down the hill at the time. She took the back trail up. I figured she was going to meet you all.”

  “Did you see her leave?”

  “Naw, I saw the cops come, so I left. I don’t like cops.”

  “Well, thanks,” I said. “One more thing . . . Would you be willing to tell the cops about what you saw?”

  “Naw. I told ya, I don’t like cops. They give me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “But I could go to prison without your testimony,” I said.

  “Don’t rightly care for cops,” he said and started to walk away.

  “My lawyer can subpoena you,” I pointed out.

  “Gotta find me first,” he said and melted into the scenery.

  “Drat,” I said.

  “We did get one more piece of information,” Holly pointed out cheerfully. “We can add that into our calculations.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “I’m not sure it helps.”

  “Well, we know that everyone was together here at the prayer tree. You have pictures. Is that the last group picture you got that day?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I remember after Laura told me she thought she could improve my business—”

  “What? That’s crazy,” Holly said.

  “Sounds like she thought she knew more than everyone else no matter what situation she was in,” Aunt Jemma said.

  “I know, right?” I sighed. “Anyway, I told her no, and she strode off down the trail. She didn’t seem happy.”

  “What about the jacket? Was Rashida wearing it in the prayer-tree photo?” Aunt Jemma asked.

  We looked carefully at the picture. “Huh, no jacket,” I said and zoomed in on the picture to see if anyone else had it. “No one has it.”

  “Wait, is that it on the bench?” Holly said.

  I zoomed in even closer to see that a corner of the bench was exposed behind the group. There was a scrap of color poking out from the edge of the bench. “It might be,” I said and looked at the picture from every angle. “It’s hard to tell.”

  “Well,” Aunt Jemma piped up, “let’s head down the trail. I’m still Dan. Did he go with Laura?”

  I blinked. “Yes, he did.”

  “When was the next time you saw Dan?” Holly asked.

  “He came back to talk to me after we headed down the hill from the prayer tree.”

  “How much time went by between leaving the prayer tree and him coming back to see you?”

  “I’d say a good thirty minutes. I was making sure the ladies didn’t get left behind.”

  “So I’ll start and see how far I can go in fifteen minutes or so, then head back to meet you,” Aunt Jemma said. “Come on, Millie. Let’s see if we can reach the body site and back.”

  Holly looked at me. “So you think Amy didn’t do it?”

  “I don’t remember exactly, so I can’t rule her out. Amy left me when Dan came back,” I said. “So there might have been time for Amy to do the deed because the next time I saw her was at the picnic area. She was coming out of the restroom. She could have gone in there to clean up.”

  We headed down the trail. I wasn’t seeing the sculptures or the rare plants—I was thinking about what had been happening to Laura the last time I strolled through these woods.

  “I had five minutes at the body site and was able to get back here about the time you arrived,” Aunt Jemma said. Millie rooted around in the leaves at the edge of the trail. “Is this where Dan talked to you?”

  “I think so,” I said. “But I didn’t notice Dan having any blood on him. If he had killed Laura, wouldn’t he have had blood on him?”

  “Unless he found the jacket and used it to cover up his shirt,” Holly said.

  “Murder is messy,” I said.

  “What kind of shirt was Dan wearing?” Aunt Jemma asked.

  I frowned and pulled out my phone. “A khaki shirt,” I said as I pulled up the pictures.

  “So his sister could’ve come up to bring him a new shirt.”

  “That’s pretty premeditated,” I said. “It doesn’t sound right. Using the corkscrew seems spur of the moment. I mean, there are easier ways to kill someone. I guess the real question is, why would someone have the corkscrew in the first place?”

  “Let’s think about premeditation. Did anyone bring stuff? A backpack or other gear? Could anyone have had a change of clothes?”

  “Again, it would’ve been pretty premeditated for them to have a change of clothes that were the same so no one would notice.”

  “Unless Dan called his sister to bring the clothes after he killed Laura.”

 
“They live an hour from here, and Jack Henry saw the woman before the murder happened,” I said. “Unless it was premeditated, and Dan had set up for his sister to come. That would give her time to get here with a change of clothes. You know, he was the only other person who ended up with Laura’s blood on his hands besides me.”

  “He could’ve rushed down there to cover his tracks,” Holly said.

  “The timing would have had to be just right,” Aunt Jemma said. “From here Dan walked with you, and Amy went down the trail.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, Holly, go down the trail. Stop for five minutes at the crime scene and then go to the restroom and pretend to wash. We’ll walk the way Taylor remembers and check if we see you at all.”

  “Got it.” Holly strode away with Millie.

  “Don’t run,” I called out. “Amy didn’t seem to run.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sheesh, we sound so devious,” I said as Aunt Jemma and I continued down the hill. We were about ten minutes from the scene of the crime.

  “Well, we are trying to save your life. So far, we haven’t ruled out Dan or Amy. What about Sally?”

  “If I remember correctly, Sally was with Amy at this time. No one has disputed that, so I think we can rule her out. You know, I don’t remember Dan being covered in blood,” I said. “I think that’s something I would’ve noticed if he had come from the crime scene to me.”

  “Remember, he could’ve changed his shirt. Did you look at his hands?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t remember looking, but I’d think he would’ve washed them.”

  “With what?” Aunt Jemma asked. “There’s no restroom until you hit the picnic area.”

  “In the stream?” I wondered out loud.

  “Yes, I suppose,” Aunt Jemma said. “Did he seem nervous or out of breath?”

  “A bit frazzled,” I said, “but I thought it was because he wasn’t happy with my rejection of their marketing class. I’m getting the feeling that they were running short on cash and desperate to take on new clients of any kind. He said they wanted to expand to marketing and mentoring other small-business start-ups like mine. But I turned him down, and he got quite upset over it.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I don’t really know. Mostly I got mad and left to join the ladies,” I said.