A Case of Syrah, Syrah
Page 21
“What man from the park?”
“When I stayed with Holly after the rock was thrown in the window, there was a man in the park who gave me a scare.”
“What kind of scare?”
“He followed me, and I felt threatened, but I lost him in Holly’s apartment complex.”
“Sounds like he was already surveilling you,” Sheriff Hennessey said. There was heat in his gaze from what I thought was anger. “You should have reported that.”
“What was there to report?” I asked. “Some guy seemed to follow me, but I lost him?”
“Right.”
“Look, I really don’t know the guy. Why would he hurt my dog?”
“He said that Ivy told him the sting was your fault.”
“And now Ivy’s dead,” I pointed out. “Wait. That doesn’t mean I had motive to kill her.”
“No, there’s no evidence you were involved, other than finding her body.”
“It’s the same thing for Laura, you know that, right?”
“I can’t talk about that case,” he said.
“So Joe Smith masterminded a dognapping to get back at me for the bust of his identity-theft ring. That’s crazy. Why did he ask for ten thousand dollars?”
“With the new bank rules, anything ten thousand or less doesn’t necessarily have to be reported to the federal government. We’ve seen a lot of small money thefts lately as the crooks have gotten smarter about things.”
“Wow. That’s horrible. I’m thankful it wasn’t a larger amount because there’s no way I could’ve come up with the money. This whole murder thing has put a real crimp in my finances. Any idea when I’ll get my money back?”
“We’re working on that,” he said. “Listen, we have Joe in jail, and I don’t think he’ll be bothering you any time soon.” Sheriff Hennessey hunkered down and petted Millie. “You’re safe now, little girl.”
She jumped up, putting her front paws on his shoulder, and gave him a lick on the cheek.
“You’re welcome,” he said and stood. “Good thing I speak fluent dog.”
We all laughed.
“Keep your doors locked and your security cameras on,” he said with a nod. “I think it’s best until we get things to settle down a bit.”
“Thank you,” I said and walked him to the door. “We will.”
“Listen,” he said to me in a low voice, “I know that you didn’t know about the identity-theft ring, but I suggest you stay away from Dawn for the time being. At least until I get Ivy’s murder under wraps.”
“Do you think Dawn killed Ivy?”
“I’m not sure,” he said and put on his hat as he went outside. “Better to be safe than sorry. Good night.”
“Good night, Sheriff. Thank you for stopping by.”
* * *
The next day, I stayed at home and did chores. Millie stayed near me and slept in the sunshine. The dognapping had taken a lot out of us both. The sheriff said I’d get my money back that week, which was a good thing so I could pay back the credit cards and my bills. The sad thing was that, until I was no longer a suspect in Laura’s murder, I couldn’t do any new tour work.
I pulled out the file folder with the notes from that fateful day when Laura had died. I went over all the information I had. It had been Amy who had contacted me initially about the tour. Laura had then vetted me, and we’d gone over the hike and picnic plans with a fine-tooth comb. Laura put the “micro” into “micromanager.” I remembered that, at one point, she’d told Amy to get out of the way so that she could go over a list that Amy had written word for word on what had been said. It was embarrassing, and I’d sensed Amy’s humiliation.
I remembered asking Amy what kept her on the job. She’d told me that I needed to see Laura with the yoga ladies and that she was truly inspirational. I guessed we all had our good sides. I simply hadn’t seen it with Laura.
It all came down to the idea that Laura could have been killed by anyone there that day—anyone but me.
The doorbell rang, and I got up. Millie went barking and slid into the door. The cat slunk away with a hiss at the excited dog. I opened the door to find the sheriff.
“What brings you back here today?” I asked.
“I know you needed your cash, so I sped things up,” he said and handed me the bank bag filled with cash.
“Oh, thank you so much. This is needed. I was looking at my bills and don’t know how I’m going to generate any cash with no work.”
He removed his hat when I waved him into the pool house apartment. “Justice always wins out. I wouldn’t be a sheriff if I didn’t believe that.”
I looked him in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I thought being a sheriff was more political than law enforcement.”
“I like being a part of the community,” he said. “If I can make a suggestion, I’d recommend that you do something that has nothing to do with your case.”
“Like what? I can’t work. You don’t want me talking to anyone.”
“Anyone involved in the case,” he clarified, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t get out and do some volunteering. Anything for the community will help with your reputation.”
“That’s a great idea. How do I start?”
“There are a few organizations—besides the church ones, of course.”
“Of course,” I said and tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Can I offer you some coffee?”
“That’d be nice.”
We walked into the living area, which opened to a breakfast bar and a tiny kitchen. I had a pot of coffee on already, so I pulled down two mugs. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and sat down at the breakfast bar.
“Won’t you get in trouble for mixing with a murder suspect?” I asked as I poured the coffee and placed it in front of him. I pushed the creamer and sugar dishes toward him and handed him a spoon.
“Well, I might,” he said. He slowly added cream and two teaspoons of sugar and stirred the coffee. Then he looked me in the eye. “But I wanted you to know that my office hasn’t stopped looking into your case. The prosecution went forward way too fast. They were getting some political pressure and rushed to judgment, but I’m not convinced of your guilt.”
“Wow, thank you,” I said.
“That said, I’ll do my duty should you be convicted.”
“I understand,” I said, my heart warming for the first time in weeks. I hadn’t realized how much the suspicion had weighed on me. “Thank you. It means something to know I’m not alone in looking for Laura’s killer.”
“See, now that’s the main reason I bring this up. I’ve been thinking about you talking to the yoga ladies and doing some investigation on your own. I want to stress my point that you don’t need to do that. People are looking out for you. I know you’ve been through a lot lately—”
“You think?”
“—but for your safety and that of your family, I think it’s best you let me do my job.”
“You see, I can’t,” I said seriously. “Not if it means I end up in prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”
He put down his coffee. “I’m afraid if you don’t let this investigation of yours go, you might end up a lot worse than in prison.” He stood. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’ll be careful.”
He frowned at me. “Seriously, Taylor, you’re vulnerable doing this on your own. Let me do the looking. You have to trust someone. I’m hoping that it’s me.”
“But I did trust you and ended up with a million dollars in bail that my aunt leveraged her vineyard for. I can’t have her lose the vineyard.”
He reached down and tilted my face up to his. His eyes held the heat of attraction, and I was shocked into stillness. My brain froze. Was he going to kiss me? Did I want him to?
“Trust me,” he said after what seemed like forever. “I care.” He put on his hat and walked out. Millie barked and ran around my legs. I stood there for a long time, trying to figure out wh
at it all meant. It was crazy—I was attracted to the strong, handsome sheriff, but I also liked Patrick, my lawyer. My feelings were as tangled as my life. If I had had the chance, would I have kissed the sheriff? I didn’t know. Maybe. What a mess.
I knew one thing for sure—I wouldn’t let anything deter me from my mission to prove my innocence.
Chapter 26
Later that afternoon, I went to settle my account with the bank and get the money out of the house. I found a parking spot a block and a half away and parked Aunt Jemma’s car. I’d tried to listen to the sheriff’s warning and decided that I’d leave the van parked at the winery. It was easy to identify as my car and perhaps seeing someone was here would deter any other would-be puppynappers or kittynappers.
The cat was not as happy with Millie’s return as the rest of us were. At least, she acted put out, but I suspected she was secretly happy to have the little ball of energy back in the house.
As I exited the bank, money safely deposited, I glanced down the opposite side of the road and noticed Amy walking down the street. Lawyer’s orders or not, I had so many questions that I simply had to have answered. I crossed the street and followed her. She went a block down the street and through an alley to a small 1920s bungalow. There was a car parked outside, and I was surprised to see Dan get out.
He kissed her quick as she unlocked the door, and they both went inside. This was a new development. I ducked behind a building, hoping they wouldn’t see me. I noticed that Dan closed the curtains on the front windows.
I phoned Holly.
“Hello?”
“Holly,” I whispered, “it’s Taylor.”
“Taylor, why are you whispering?”
“I followed Amy,” I whispered.
“Oh! What’s going on?”
“I saw her kiss Dan and go into a house with him.”
“What?”
I flinched at her volume and glanced around. The streets were quiet, but I wasn’t sure if our voices would carry to the house. No one seemed to have overheard. My heart was beating fast.
“Are they having an affair?”
“Well, it sure looked like it,” I said. I took a picture of the house with the address. “I’m sending you a picture of the house. Can you run a Google check to see who owns it?”
“This would be a strong motive to get rid of Laura,” Holly said, her tone excited as I sent her the picture.
“I know. One or both could’ve been involved.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. You go get Sheriff Hennessey.”
“Do you think he’ll come?”
“Hopefully.”
“Maybe I should confront them first and see what they have to say.”
“Not alone,” Holly said. “Hold on. I see where you are. I can be there in a few minutes.”
“Hurry,” I said. “I don’t want them to see me when they come out.”
“If they do, then it’s too quick for them to be having an affair.”
I felt my excitement flow away. They could simply be looking at new houses for Dan or places of business for him. I checked Zillow and saw that the property was up for sale or rent. It was zoned residential and commercial, so they could technically be there to see about renting the property. Except they hadn’t come outside yet.
“Holly, over here,” I said in a stage whisper as my friend came walking down the alleyway.
“You saw them go into the house?” Holly asked as we both peered around the corner of the building to study the two cars parked outside.
“Yes, and they kissed before they went inside.”
“Was it a passionate kiss or a hello kiss?” Holly asked.
I struggled to remember. “I think it was a hello kiss.”
“Hmmm,” Holly said. We continued peering around the corner, but there was no movement.
“Amy’s not in real estate,” I pointed out. “If they were looking to buy, wouldn’t they have a realtor with them? They had a key.”
“Maybe they already own it,” Holly said. “I think we should go ring the doorbell.”
“What? No.”
“I’m doing it.”
“Holly, wait!” But she was already striding up the sidewalk toward the house. I hid on the other side of the building, mortified. I peered around to see Holly go up on the porch and ring the doorbell. What would she say? How would she explain? Didn’t she remember that Amy knew who she was?
I hid and waited for what seemed like forever but was merely five minutes. I looked again. Holly said good-bye to someone with a wave and moved down the porch steps.
Dying of curiosity, I hopped from one foot to the other. Finally, Holly came around the corner. “What happened?” I asked. “Did Amy remember you? What did you say to them? Is there motive there?”
Holly put her arm through mine and walked me toward Main Street. “Amy answered. I pretended to be surprised to see her. I told her I was interested in the property and wanted to know if I could tour it.”
“And?”
“And Mr. and Mrs. Scott told me they were waiting for the inspector to do the final inspection before they signed for the property today.”
“Amy recognized you and wasn’t upset by it?” I said. “Wait—Mr. and Mrs. Scott?”
“It seems that Dan and Amy got married two nights ago in Las Vegas. She was quite happy to show me the ring.”
“That’s, what, a week or two after Laura’s death? She’s barely in the ground. I find that highly suspicious.”
“I agree,” Holly said and walked with me to the police station. “But I don’t think it proves anything.”
“Except they were most likely having an affair, and Laura may have found out the day she was murdered. We have to tell the sheriff.”
“Good thing we’re close to the station,” Holly said, and we walked inside.
“Sheriff Hennessey, please,” I said to the receptionist.
We waited a half an hour for the sheriff to come out and see us. “Ladies, what brings you down here?”
“Can we talk in your office?” I asked.
“Certainly,” he said and opened the door to the back room. “Do you want your lawyer present?”
“It’s not about me,” I said as we walked to his office and stepped inside. He bustled passed us and sat down behind his big desk.
“Taylor, what’s up?” He crossed his arms on the top of his desk, which was covered with paper work in various stages of completion.
“Did you know that Dan Scott married Amy Hampton?”
“No, but what does that bit of gossip have to do with anything?”
“Don’t you find it suspicious that they married so quickly after Laura’s death?” Holly asked.
“Look”—he wiped his hand across his face—“I know you’re desperate to find a guilty party, and this does seem a little shady. That said, lots of guys get married soon after a spouse dies. It can be part of the grieving process. Especially if they’re close to the woman they marry. Amy worked for Dan for three years.”
“And that’s not suspicious?” Holly said. “I thought whenever a person died the spouse was the first on the list of suspects.”
“Without further proof, there’s little I can do.”
“How do we get proof?”
“Someone has to confess,” he said, “and no one does that willingly.”
“But—”
“Good day, ladies.”
“Still,” Holly said as we stood. “Isn’t it more likely he and Amy were having an affair and killed Laura than Taylor getting mad and killing her? I mean, both Taylor and Dan were covered in Laura’s blood.”
“Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to help. It’s that the system works the way it does for a reason. I need you to trust me and the system.”
That was hard to do when the system saw you as a criminal.
Chapter 27
“Dan and Amy marrying seems so crass,” Aunt Jemma said. “Why wouldn’t they wait?”
“Sheriff Hennessey says it could be part of the grieving process,” I said and lifted my face to the warmth of the morning sun. “He also said the only way to drop the charges at this point is to get the real killer to confess. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to do that. It seems to me that Dan and Amy are happy, the yoga ladies are busy with their new business obligations, and no one cares that I’m going down for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“All secrets come out in the end,” Aunt Jemma tried to reassure me.
“That’s no help,” I said.
“I know it sounds like a platitude,” Aunt Jemma said and daintily picked a donut up from the tray of pastries on the patio picnic table. “But it is usually a true statement.”
“It’s hard to keep a secret,” Holly agreed from her seat on the other side of the table. “There are three of them. If we can get one to crack, then it’ll bring down the entire plot.”
“What if it wasn’t them?” I fretted. “What if it was Dan?”
“I know, but we can point the finger at Amy, and if Dan did it, he might crack,” Holly said.
“And if Amy did it?” I asked.
“Then point the finger at Dan,” Aunt Jemma suggested.
“Sounds like we’d need a crazy amount of luck,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe Sheriff Hennessey is right. Maybe we should let the system prove my innocence and go from there.”
“That’s nuts,” Aunt Jemma said. “It will all but squash your business. And it might be helping the winery right now, but it could hurt us in the long run.”
“What do you mean ‘helping the winery’?”
“We’ve seen a twenty percent increase in people tasting and buying. They’re all coming out to see the woman accused of murder.”
“People are morbid,” I said and sipped my coffee.
“Once this is over, you could do murder tours,” Aunt Jemma said. “There’s plenty of dark history in Sonoma County.”
I rolled my eyes. “No.”
“It’s still a good idea.” Aunt Jemma and Holly nodded at each other. “But back on the subject of murder, who do you think did it?”