by J. C. Eaton
“Um, I think they just found out. The news vans are turning left on Route 14. Toward Gable Hill. They wouldn’t do that unless they got word of other, more breaking news. Oh, my gosh. Poor Stephanie.”
“Calm down, please. I’ll make sure our crew and the EMTs are posted on the driveway like yesterday, but the Gable Hill guys will have enough to worry about at their own place. In fact, Ralphie’s EMTs probably got wind of your pond discovery by now. Knowing how fast word spreads, I’ll bet a few of them are over there already. Try to keep this thing under wraps. Like a need-to-know kind of thing. See what the sheriff’s office does. We’ll touch base later, okay?”
A need-to-know kind of thing? Everyone needs to know!
“Okay. Fine.” I ended the call and stepped inside the winery building. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, and as I got closer to the bistro I could see Fred and Emma rolling out dough.
“Hey, guys,” I said. “You didn’t happen to see anyone from the film crew here this morning, did you? The van’s parked in our lot.”
Fred looked up from kneading the dough. “Skylar and Rikesh were in to grab coffees and let us know they’d be on the east side of our property this morning. In case you wanted to know. Said there was a bit of a to-do last night at the hotel. Stefan and Gavin exchanged words at the bar, but according to Skylar it was late and not many people saw them.
“What about Priscilla and Devora? Did anyone see them?”
Fred shook his head. “Skylar didn’t say. But from what I understood, Gavin and Priscilla will be driving themselves to the shoot this morning. Devora and Stefan will most likely hitch a ride with Mickey, the other cameraman.”
“Unless Devora decides to use her broom,” Emma announced from a few feet away. Then she looked directly at me. “Is everything all right? You look kind of spooked.”
“Listen, I probably shouldn’t say anything, not until the sheriff releases the information, but I found a dead body in the Ipswiches’ irrigation pond this morning. Charlie brought home a souvenir from there. Wrapped in a cattail. It was the necklace Priscilla wore yesterday.”
Emma clasped her hands together and froze. “Priscilla’s dead?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think she is.”
Chapter 7
“Promise me,” I said, “you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Not until I’ve spoken with Cammy.”
Fred and Emma shook their heads in unison.
“I’ve got to get back to the Ipswich property. I’ll catch up later.”
When I left the bistro, I darted into my office and made two quick calls. The first was to Cammy, who kept saying “Oh, my God, Norrie, not again,” and the second was to Don and Theo, who pretty much said what Cammy did only without the histrionics. I was about to trek back up the hill and over to the pond when I made one more call. This time to Godfrey Klein.
“You’re absolutely positive it was a body?” he asked.
“Unless branches are now wearing nail polish.”
“And you’re sure it’s Priscilla McCoy?”
“It was the necklace. Who else could it be?”
“All right. Listen. Let the sheriff’s office take over. That’s what they’re trained to do. Let them notify the film company and all the rest. Are you going to be okay today?”
“I’ll be fine.” I think. “You don’t suppose I should call my producer? Filming here was Renee’s idea.”
“Until you know for certain whose body it is, don’t call anyone. Let the authorities deal with it. Just answer their questions. That’s all.”
“I don’t know what I can tell them. Heck, I don’t know if it was foul play or if Priscilla went storming off in the dark, didn’t see the pond and fell in. Maybe she couldn’t swim. Maybe she got caught up in weeds. That would explain the necklace.”
“No, that would explain your theory. Like I said, let the sheriff handle this.”
“I’m a wreck if you haven’t noticed. An absolute wreck, and in a few minutes I’ll be under Deputy Hickman’s microscope as if I had something to do with this.”
“Take a breath, will you? Look, I’m off work today. I was going to the office to review someone’s recent dissertation on the Coquillettidia, whose larva does not live underwater like the Culex species, but I can put it off and get over to Two Witches if you want.”
“I’ll be all right. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll call you later, Norrie. Maybe we can grab that coffee tonight.”
“I’ll need something stronger.”
“Fine. Expresso.”
When I ended the call to Godfrey, I hustled across the parking lot, up the hill past the field that separates Two Witches from Gable Hill and over to the pond. Even from a good thirty yards away I could see the commotion. Red and blue flashers on a Yates County Sheriff’s car, a fire truck with Yates County Fire and Rescue plastered on the side, and the news vans that had left our property minutes before. The only thing missing was the coroner’s van, and I imagined it would be pulling up pretty darn soon.
For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine who would want to kill Priscilla McCoy. It didn’t appear as if the camera and video guys had any issues with her, and Stefan was so busy catering to Devora’s every whim, he’d hardly have had time to bother with Priscilla. Unless there was something going on with Gavin. Had he been one of her ex-lovers? Darn it. I never read the tabloids. As far as Devora was concerned, what possible motive could she have? Unless of course she had another actress lined up in the wings and needed to get Priscilla out of the way. But that would mean an entirely new filming. I shuddered at the thought.
As I got closer to the pond, I saw Derek standing next to Deputy Hickman. The usual five o’clock shadow on the deputy’s face was replaced by a stubby grayish brown beard and mustache. I wasn’t sure if it was a new look for him or if he’d gotten tired of shaving. Both of the men had their arms crossed and both of them eyeballed the pond. Then Deputy Hickman walked to his car and I hurried over to Derek.
He threw his hands in the air and glared at me. “What on earth took you so long? You said you’d be back in a jiff. What is it with women and their sense of timing?”
“Um, I can’t speak for the rest of my gender, but when I left the house there were news vans in our driveway and I had to deal with that.”
Derek looked at the vans parked alongside the rutted road that framed his property. “So you sent them here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They were at Two Witches because they wanted to interview the actors. A few minutes later, while I was on my way into our winery building, because I had to check on things, they left for your place. They must have heard about the body from the scanners.”
“Whatever.”
“Is she, um, still in the water?”
“Uh-huh. The recovery vehicle arrived a few seconds ago. The divers are suiting up now.”
“Divers? I thought they’d use a winch or something.”
“It’s a person, not a car. Besides, they need to locate the body first before they can extract it. Not with a winch. They use a rescue litter. You’ve seen them. They look like surf boards with straps.”
I heard what sounded like a car driving up. “Turn around. Looks like the coroner finally made it.”
“Holy hell. What a circus. How the heck did an actress from your little movie wind up doing the backstroke in our pond?”
Just then Deputy Hickman shouted, “Stay right where you are, Miss Ellington.” He slammed the door of his car and marched directly over to me.
“He’s all yours,” Derek muttered to me. “I’ve got to get back to the house and let Stephanie know what’s going on.”
With that, he left and Deputy Hickman arrived. The next thing I knew I was staring into Gary Hickman’s furled brow. “I should have known you’d be involved somehow in this recent situation, for lack of a better word at this time.”
“Er, wel
l, I—”
The deputy took a step back and let out a slow breath. “Mr. Ipswich informed me that you may know who the unfortunate victim is. I’m impressed, Miss Ellington. Not many people have the skills to identify a corpse when they spot an arm under murky water.”
“It wasn’t the arm. I mean, yeah, it’s a woman’s arm. Her fingernails had nail polish on them.”
“And from that you were able to ascertain her identity?”
“Not exactly. My dog was in that pond this morning and came home with a cattail that had a necklace tangled in it. I saw that necklace yesterday on Priscilla McCoy’s neck when she took off her coat at our winery.”
“Is that someone you’re acquainted with?”
“I met her, if that’s what you mean. She’s a, I mean, was a well-known Canadian actress who appears in lots of romance movies.”
“I see. And she was visiting your winery?”
“She was filming a scene in our vineyard along with another actor and a small crew. Only the director, her assistant, a video technician and two cameramen. They’re staying at the Ramada Inn in Geneva.”
“I’ll need those names along with the necklace. You still have it, don’t you?”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “It’s at home. On the floor of my bedroom.” With a dripping wet cattail.
Deputy Hickman sighed. “It’s probably too late, but try not to get your fingerprints on it. Put it in a plastic bag for now until I can pick it up. I’ll also need a statement from you. Once the Yates County Fire and Rescue Team extracts the body and it’s taken to the morgue for a positive identification and not a speculation, I’ll head over to your winery. I’ll need to question everyone who’s been in contact with the woman. Should it turn out the body doesn’t belong to this Priscilla McCoy actress, I will be sure to inform you.”
“Oh, it’s her all right. I’m pretty certain. Does this mean I can go back to our winery? The Wine and Cheese event is today, and as far as the film crew knows, they’re still shooting a scene in the vineyard. Did you want me to tell them—?”
“Good heavens, Miss Ellington. You are not the town crier. Do not tell anyone anything! Am I clear? As I said a few minutes ago, I will stop by Two Witches once the body is taken to the morgue. Understood?”
I nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Priscilla McCoy was a stunning woman and I wanted to remember her that way, not see her bloated puffy corpse hoisted onto a board with a tarp thrown over her. I didn’t waste another second. I traipsed back to our property the way I had come and headed straight for our tasting room.
Like yesterday at this time, our parking lot was full. Same deal with the driveway. The only discernible difference being that there were fewer EMTs and vineyard workers to manage the crowd of fans and wine tasters. Too bad that crowd was about to get one hell of a shock.
When I stepped inside our tasting room, everything appeared to be in order. No one would ever suspect our staff knew about Priscilla’s unfortunate demise. The tasting tables were packed and the mood was jovial. Only Glenda caught my eye and motioned me over.
“Psst! It’s not too late, Norrie,” she whispered. “Zenora knows a powerful cleansing chant.”
Wonderful. She can sing it in the shower.
“Uh-huh. We’ll talk later.”
I scurried off to check the mac and cheese setup and began to relax. Nothing out of the ordinary. Emma and a few part-time college kids who worked events for us were serving the Southwest Mac and Cheese. Fred was at the bistro, and from the look of things doing a brisk business. The only one I didn’t spot was Cammy, and that changed in the blink of an eye.
She came out of the kitchen and made a beeline to where I stood. “Is it public knowledge yet?” she asked.
I shook my head vehemently. “No! Deputy Hickman will lock me up for interfering with an investigation if I were to open my mouth and blab it to everyone.”
“No worries. I told our staff that if they dared say a word, they’d be working at the Orange Julius juice bar and not here.”
“Whew. At least everything seems to be running smoothly. I’m surprised no one from the film crew came in to ask if we’ve seen Priscilla.”
“Actually,” Cammy said, “Stefan was in a few minutes before we opened. He wanted to get Devora’s coffee so it would be on the vineyard set when she arrived. He said he drove over with Mickey.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. I spotted the equipment van in our parking lot, so that means Skylar and Rikesh got here early to set up. I’ll bet Gavin and Devora are back at the Ramada waiting for Priscilla, only they don’t know she’s dead. Unless, of course, she was murdered and one of them is the killer.”
“Yeesh.”
“I know. Right? Deputy Hickman said he’d be in here as soon as Priscilla was taken to the morgue. Unless he goes to the Ramada Inn first. I told him that’s where the crew was staying.”
Cammy winced. “I hope I can keep a poker face if Skylar or Stefan walk in here looking for the actors. Or the director, for that matter.”
“I doubt that will happen. Most likely they’ll phone Devora at the Ramada and ask what’s keeping them. Nothing else we can do at this time except wait for Grizzly Gary to show up. Meanwhile, I haven’t even had my morning coffee and my stomach’s grumbling. I hope Emma made croissants this morning. Heck, I’ll settle for saltines at this point.”
Cammy chuckled and I headed for the bistro. Behind me I could hear the laughter and animated conversations emanating from our tasting tables and the serving line for our cheese dish. When I reached the bistro, only one person was ahead of me, and I heard Fred say, “Your panini will be ready any minute.” Then, out of the blue, Skylar rushed in.
“Do you mind?” he asked. “I got an urgent request for a ham and cheese sandwich on sourdough bread.”
I shook my head. Poor guy had no idea about Priscilla. “Don’t tell me Devora changed her diet to include whole grains.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’ll be the day. Nah, it’s for Priscilla. She didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
“Priscilla? Priscilla McCoy?” I must have sounded like a moron. If that wasn’t her in the Ipswiches’ pond, and the crew was in the vineyard filming, then who the heck was in that pond with her necklace? A crazed fan?
I couldn’t very well tell Stefan what was going on at the winery next door, so I bobbed my head and said, “I’m not in a hurry. Fred can make your order first.”
“Good,” he said. “Because we’re running a technical shoot first and that takes a while.”
“A technical shoot?”
“Yeah. Lots of lighting and sound adjustments. The actors run their lines but the director doesn’t need to do anything. Or even be there, for that matter, unless they’re real controlling like Devora. But even she steps back and lets us get on with it. Once everything’s copasetic, we can do a regular shoot.”
With that, Fred handed Stefan the sandwich and watched as he raced toward the door.
“What’s the matter, Norrie?” Fred asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“That wasn’t Priscilla’s body in the pond. The sandwich you made was for her. Stefan acted as if everything was hunky-dory. This is a terrible thing to say, but I’m so relieved the dead woman had nothing to do with the film crew. Hallelujah. Geez, I shouldn’t say Hallelujah. That’s terrible. Some unfortunate person wound up in the Ipswiches’ pond. Although it still doesn’t explain the necklace. Unless the necklace had nothing to do with the dead woman.”
“Uh, did you want to order anything?” Fred asked.
“Oh, yeah. A ham, cheese, and tomato panini. It’s odd, isn’t it?”
“Tomato on the panini?”
“No, the necklace. Unless someone threw it in there.”
Fred shrugged. “I’m sure the sheriff’s office will sort it out.”
The sheriff’s office. Oh, my gosh. Deputy Hickman thinks the body belongs to Priscilla thanks to me.
; The minute Fred handed me my panini, I sat down, gulped it in a few bites and washed it down with a Coke. Then I called the Yates County Public Safety Building, hoping to reach their star deputy.
Chapter 8
Gladys Pipp, the civil service secretary, answered immediately. She was the only friendly person in that facility, and thanks to Francine’s homemade jams, forged a friendship of sorts with me. Her voice, like her appearance, complete with bouffant hairdo and bedazzled glasses, was unmistakable. “You have reached the Yates County Public Safety Building. If this is an emergency, hang up and dial nine-one-one. Gladys Pipp speaking. How may I direct your call?”
“Gladys, hi! It’s Norrie Ellington.”
“Goodness, Norrie. It’s always something at those wineries. How awful for your neighbors. Imagine finding a dead body in your pond. Is that why you called?”
“Uh-huh. I need to speak with Deputy Hickman. I saw him this morning and told him I knew who the victim was. Only it wasn’t. I mean, the person that I thought it was isn’t the body that was in the pond. I need to let him know.”
“He’s in his car right now, en route to your winery as a matter of fact. Is that where you’re calling from?”
“Yes.”
“Then sit tight. He should be there momentarily. Oh, and Norrie, he hasn’t had his breakfast yet, so if he was in an unpleasant mood earlier, it’s bound to be worse.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime, dear. By the way, I do hope your Wine and Cheese event goes well. Too bad I have to work weekends a few times a month.”
I thanked her, too, and then charged over to the bistro. “Quick, Fred! Can you make some toast and pour a cup of coffee for Deputy Hickman? He’s on his way. I’ll be in my office.”
In the three or four minutes that followed, I told Cammy about my faux pas and asked her to discreetly inform the staff that Priscilla McCoy was alive, and as far as I knew chomping down on a ham and cheese sandwich. Then I went into my office and left a similar message for John Grishner on his cell phone.
