by J. C. Eaton
For some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t stop talking. I was digging myself deeper and deeper into an abyss with no way to climb out. “Uh, you can stop me at any time,” I mumbled, “I think I’ve said enough.”
Deputy Hickman stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. “Indeed. Frankly, Miss Ellington, that story of yours is so outrageous, so unbelievable, and so, well, impossible to fathom, that I genuinely do believe you’re not fabricating it.”
“What? You believe me?”
“Much as I hate to admit it, I do. Even with your particular skill set for writing screenplays, I doubt you could come up with something like this. Let’s not waste time, show me where those eyeglasses are.”
Charlie, who didn’t bother to get up from his dog bed, watched as the deputy and I tromped up the stairs to my bedroom. I pointed to my nightstand from the doorway and stepped back to let him go through.
“Um, there are some yucky wadded-up tissues in there so you may want to use gloves or something.”
“I’m collecting evidence, Miss Ellington. Donning gloves is protocol, as is placing the object in question in a special self-sealing plastic bag.”
I didn’t say a word while he picked up the glasses and put them in the bag. Then, as he turned to face me, the sides of his mouth formed a smile. “I see what you mean. Knowing your sister, these do not appear to be something she would have selected for eyewear.”
“Go ahead and say it. They’re horrible. Tacky and ostentatious. And I’m positive they’re Devora’s.”
“Identifying the eyewear may be the easiest part of this investigation. The enigma, however, of how someone could have gotten into your house without leaving as much as a single clue defies reason. Are you sure nothing was disturbed?”
I nodded. “You can see for yourself. Come on, I’ll show you the window that I accidently left unlocked.”
Deputy Hickman thundered down the stairs in front of me.
“It’s over there,” I pointed. “In the living room.”
He placed the plastic evidence bag on the kitchen table and proceeded to follow me into the living room.
“You’ve got hardwood floors. The kind that show every bit of dirt and wet spots if you don’t wipe your shoes or take them off at the door. It was snowing yesterday, well into the evening. Are you certain you didn’t see any wet footprints when you came inside?”
My God. He sounds like Francine.
“Um, I wasn’t exactly looking.”
“You would have noticed. The change in the wood’s color is obvious.”
“I didn’t notice anything. And neither did Don and Theo. Don’s very observant. Very particular. Theo, not so much, but Don—”
“I get it, Miss Ellington. There must be something else going on.”
With that, he walked over to the window in question but remained a good yard or so away. “I wiped my boots when I came through the door. Your mat is the kind that absorbs water. Must be your sister and brother-in-law are a bit more, shall we say, discerning.”
As opposed to my slovenliness?
“And look in front of that doggie door. It has one of those mats as well.”
Terrific. Francine and Jason get the Good Housekeeping Award of the year.
Deputy Hickman rubbed his chin and took a step closer to the window. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight that he shone on the floor.
“Aha! Seems there was an intruder after all.”
“Huh? What? I don’t see anything.”
“Don’t get any closer or you’ll destroy the evidence.”
“What evidence?” I asked, although it came out more like a whine. “I don’t see any evidence.”
“Whoever opened that window and crawled inside was either a thoughtful intruder or a cunning one. He or she placed a small mat or maybe even a towel on the floor so as to hide any evidence of footprints. Look closely. There’s a rim of dust and grime around the edges of where such a mat or towel had been placed. Very cunning indeed.”
In that entire batch of suspects, there were only two people whom I thought would be so fastidious—Stefan and Priscilla. Stefan practically reeked of obsessive compulsivity and Priscilla was, well . . . kind of prissy in a girly sort of way. No so much personality, but mannerisms. And choice of personal care products like the pink tissue. It was perfectly folded when she pulled it out of her pocket the first day of filming.
“Does this mean you’ll be sending a forensic team over to dust for prints?”
“Yes, Miss Ellington. I’ll call my office and we’ll have them send someone over. I’m not optimistic, however. If our intruder was mindful enough to use a mat or a towel for footprints, he or she most assuredly wore gloves. And as for any evidence outside the house, I’m afraid the wet snow took care of that. We wouldn’t even be able to see footprints leading back to the road.”
“Now what do I do?”
“Keep your windows locked and your doors as well. I noticed you’ve got a sturdy double bolt on both entrance doors. Good. And I’d keep that dog fence of yours locked as well. No sense taking a chance someone could crawl through the doggie door.”
Charlie’s going to hate that if he’s fenced in. Bad enough he goes nuts during hunting season.
“It would have to be someone really petite,” I said. “Hmm, when I went to Wegmans I pulled the plastic lid over the doggie door, so even if someone thought to use it, they wouldn’t have been able to. Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. They got in anyway.”
“If that’s all, Miss Ellington, I need to be on my way. I’ll have the forensic team phone you when they’re on the way.”
“Uh, you have my cell number, right? Have them call that number or the winery. I have to head over there.”
“Understood. And one more thing. Try to stay out of this investigation. I know how tempting it may be for you to play juvenile sleuth or whatever they call it these days, but we’re dealing with a killer.”
• • •
I gave a nod and walked Grizzly Gary to the kitchen door. The minute he left I pulled it shut and bolted the lock. All in all, it was a pretty decent visit. Without him saying it out loud, I was pretty positive I was no longer a person of interest. Then again, I could have been delusional.
Chapter 25
Glenda gasped and covered her throat with her free hand when I told her and Cammy what I had discovered next to my bed. She placed the pitcher of water she was holding on one of the tasting room tables, bent down, and spit on the floor three times. I’m not sure she actually spat as much as made the motions.
“Unsettled spirits or vengeful spirits find a way to communicate from the beyond,” she said. Her voice was softer than usual and it quivered.
I wanted to inform the tasting room staff of the latest intrigue in Devora’s murder so I made the trek across the wet snow to share the news. However, judging from Glenda’s reaction, I should have held off.
“It’s not a spirit from the dead,” I said. “Deputy Hickman found evidence of an intruder in my house.”
At that point, the two customers from Sam’s table headed to the gift racks and he immediately hustled over to where Cammy, Glenda, and I stood. “This I gotta hear,” he said. “I only caught bits and pieces. What’s this about finding a dead woman’s glasses in your drawer?”
“We might as well let Lizzie in on it, too,” I replied. “And one of you can tell Roger when he comes in tomorrow. As for Fred and Emma, they’ll get an earful when I grab something to eat.”
We moved to the cash register, where Lizzie stood, but before I could say a word, Glenda spoke. “Devora’s evil spirit is lurking in Norrie’s house. Leaving remnants of the earthly world.”
Sam cocked his head and laughed. “Give me a break. Someone’s messing with Norrie. If you ask me, Devora struggled with an attacker and her glasses fell off. Probably right before she got strangled and dumped in the pond.”
“I get that part,” I said, “but why
stash the glasses in my house, in a place where I’d be sure to find them?”
“To cast suspicion on you,” Lizzie remarked. “Nancy Drew would have come to that conclusion instantly. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the sheriff’s office receives an anonymous call telling them someone overheard you bragging about having those glasses.”
“Hmm. Theo said something similar but I wasn’t convinced.”
Glenda shook her head. “It’s Devora’s spirit. Can’t any of you sense the unrest and turmoil in the air?” Then she looked directly at me. “I know you don’t want to burn sage sticks for a ritualistic cleansing, but will you at least consider a warding-off-evil chant? Zenora can perform one this afternoon. She’s quite accomplished with that ritual.”
“Absolutely not. She’ll frighten the customers away from the winery.”
“Not the winery, Norrie. Your house. You need to purify your house.”
How good is Zenora with vacuuming?
“Okay, fine. I give up. Send her over. After six. And tell her to make it a quick chant, not a Broadway production.”
I couldn’t believe I had just invited one of Glenda’s lunatic cronies to come to my house in order to purify it from a nonexistent evil presence. Still, if that’s what it would take to get Glenda off my back, I’d put up with Zenora.
“By the way,” I asked, “has any of the film crew been in?”
“In and out this morning,” Sam replied. “They downed their coffee as if they were chugging beers and out the door they all went. Lots of black coffee to go as well. I was sitting off to the side of the bistro when they got here. Overheard the director say something about ‘needing to finish up quickly.’ At first I thought he was referring to the filming and the hype about that storm. Next thing I know, Priscilla started to cry. Not loud sobs or anything, but crying is crying. And then she said, ‘I did everything I could to speed things up.’”
Cammy crossed her arms and glared at Sam. “You heard all that and didn’t tell us?”
“You were all busy. Besides, what was I going to tell you? Black coffees and a loosely strung actress?”
“Never mind,” I said. “You guys better get back to the tasting room tables. Looks like more customers walked in while we were talking.”
Glenda and Sam took off for their tables but Cammy hung back. She took me by the elbow and motioned for the kitchen. I gave Lizzie a quick wave and followed Cammy.
“Don’t tell me what you’re thinking,” I said, “because I already know how ridiculous it is to have Zenora at the house.”
“Not that. Zenora’s harmless as can be. Nuttier than a fruitcake at Christmas, but benign. I’m worried about who really was in your house.”
We plunked ourselves at the table and I propped my head on my elbow. “I’ve got it narrowed down to Priscilla and Stefan. The person who snuck in was extremely tidy.”
Cammy listened as I spelled out the details. Listened and groaned at the same time. “Bummer. Too bad Sam couldn’t have heard the rest of Priscilla’s conversation.”
“No, but Zenora might.”
“Huh? Now you’ve lost me.”
“Honestly, if Glenda hadn’t mentioned Zenora, I wouldn’t have thought of this. Zenora reads tea leaves. And heaven knows what else. All I need to do is find a way for her to read Priscilla’s tea leaves and get Priscilla to open up about the murder. Deep down I don’t think she’s our murderess, but she may have had a role in protecting the culprit. Like sneaking into my place with those hideous glasses.”
“Why would she do a thing like that?”
“To protect someone who may be protecting her career. Have you noticed how cozy she and Gordon are?”
“Suppose that is the case. How are you going to get Zenora to read Priscilla’s tea leaves?”
“I’m not sure. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the best with details, but I’ll come up with a plan.”
Again, Cammy groaned. “What about Stefan? Didn’t you say you thought he might have been responsible?”
“And then some. Which reminds me, I need to call Godfrey. He’s checking on something else for me.”
“Holy cannoli, Norrie. I’ve seen squid with fewer tentacles than the ones you’ve got going with this snooping around of yours. And please don’t tell me you plan to have Zenora read Stefan’s tea leaves as well.”
“Good grief, no. I plan to outright ask Stefan if he snuck into my house. After all, I did see him sneak out of that Mercedes.”
“Good luck with that. And by the way, pick a public place. Like the winery. Not the vineyard.”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of becoming the next pond victim.”
I ordered a roasted turkey on brioche bun at the bistro and shared the information about Devora’s glasses with Fred and Emma.
“Make sure you keep that house locked as tight as could be,” Fred said. “Whoever snuck in was downright brazen. Too bad you couldn’t have Charlie swap places with Alvin. That goat wouldn’t put up with any nonsense.”
“And I wouldn’t put up with that goat. He still spits at me whenever I walk by.”
Fred’s roasted turkey sandwich all but melted in my mouth and I seriously considered ordering a second one when my phone vibrated. It was a text from the forensic department informing me that a lab technician was on the way to my house.
“I’ve got to get back to the house, guys,” I said to Fred and Emma. “Deputy Hickman sent a lab tech to check for prints. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
We didn’t. I knew I was in trouble when the technician rubbed the back of his neck after attempting to find fingerprints on the window using colored powder and a black light. I was intent on watching his technique in case I ever wanted to try it myself. The guy looked like a taller, thinner version of Godfrey Klein but without the receding hairline. Same light hair and round face though.
“Sorry to inform you,” he said, “but I can’t seem to pull a single print. Frankly, I didn’t expect to find an obvious one but I hoped to secure a latent print or a partial. I’ll tell you what’s odd, though, whoever opened your window and got inside not only wore gloves but must have used one of those window cleaning cloths to make sure no residue of any kind was left behind.”
“Window cleaning cloths? Like towels?”
“No, those have fibers that would give us some evidence. I’m talking the streak-free microfiber cloths that you can get on Amazon or at any hardware store. I take it you don’t clean the windows much, do you?”
Oh, brother. What is it with these guys and housecleaning? First Grizzly Gary, now this guy.
Then, if that wasn’t enough, the man walked to the adjacent window and ushered me over. “What do you see?” he asked.
I shrugged. “A window.”
“Look closely. You can see specks of dust and some smudges. Nothing out of the ordinary, but compared to the window we presume the intruder used, it’s absolutely teaming with filth. Too bad it wasn’t the one in question or I would have had a field day.”
Wonderful. A window teaming with filth. I’ll need to get a cleaning service in here before Francine and Jason get back.
“Um, yeah. So, uh, now what?”
“I’ll look around outside but don’t hold your breath. The ground’s covered with wet snow. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
With that, the technician gathered the materials he’d used on the window, returned them to a small black suitcase, and slipped on his jacket. He was out the kitchen door before I had the chance to ask him if he was able to pull any prints from Devora’s glasses. I mean, how long could that possibly take? Grizzly Gary had left with that hideous monstrosity hours ago.
While I waited for the lab guy to examine the exterior window, I played the two messages that were left on the landline. I was so preoccupied with the forensic house call, I had completely forgotten to check the message center for the phone.
The first message was Renee’s, brief and devoid of emotion. “Gordon called. T
hey’ve completed the filming. He’s going to review the video with Skylar but he doesn’t expect any redos. The crew is still officially retained in the area until they can be cleared. Thanks, Norrie.”
Terrific. Now how am I going to get Zenora to read Priscilla’s tea leaves?
The next message was from Godfrey, and the animation in his voice made up for Renee’s monotone. “Forget Uncle Joe’s. You owe me a five-star dinner. I’m thinking steakhouse in Canandaigua. I found out who owns that black Mercedes. Call me.”
I never picked up a phone receiver faster in my life and I had all but one of Godfrey’s numbers punched in when the lab tech knocked on the kitchen door. “I might have found something. It’s a note that got stuck to some branches in one of the berry bushes by the window. It could have blown in from anywhere but it’s written on a memo pad that says ‘Ramada Inn.’ If I’m not mistaken, isn’t that where the victim was staying?”
“Hold on!” I shouted. I flung the door open and held out my hand. “Show me.”
“I can’t do that. It’s evidence now. Or it could be.”
“Is it in one piece? Does it have a date? Is it signed?”
He held up a clear plastic bag and smiled. “It’s wet but it’s in one piece.”
Chapter 26
“Well? Don’t just stand there. Come back in and read it to me. For all we know, the tidy obsessive-compulsive intruder who broke into my house might not have been so careful after all.”
The lab guy took a step inside and closed the door. I snatched the plastic bag out of his hand before he knew it and looked at the bold print on the top. “Yeah, it’s a Ramada Inn room memo pad all right, but any of the tourists on Seneca Lake could have written it. We just held the Wine and Cheese weekend. A zillion people. Give me a second.”
The lab guy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Are you satisfied? Whoever wrote it underscored it with a lipstick. We can have a field day with that in the lab. Lipstick is one of those substances that absorbs everything it comes in contact with.”
