From Port to Rigor Morte

by J. C. Eaton

  “You gotta help us,” Eli said. “You know what dead bodies look like.”

  “Huh? What?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  Then the other kid spoke. “Eli told me you knew all about dead bodies so we came here right away. Peddled really fast, too.”

  I motioned for them to leave the bikes and sit down. Then, I pulled my chair from around the desk and moved closer to them. “Start at the beginning. You said you came here right away. From where? Where were you?”

  “Across the road from Lake View Winery. By the big rocks on the other side of the railroad tracks,” Eli said.

  I was stunned. That wasn’t a safe place for biking. “And your father lets you ride your bike there?”

  The kid turned ashen. “He’d kill me. That’s why we came to you. Well, that and because you know about dead bodies.”

  Will I ever live this down? I want to be known for writing romantic screenplays.

  “And I can’t tell my parents either,” the redhead chimed in. “My dad will pitch a fit and my mom will start crying and moaning. Then I’ll get grounded for life.”

  Eli gave the kid a nudge and shrugged. “Chill, Stuart, will ya? I get grounded for life all the time.”

  “Okay, boys. Again, start at the beginning. One at a time.”

  Eli swallowed and took a breath. “We heard there might be pirate treasure washed up on the lake so we wanted to find out for ourselves.”

  “Pirate treasure? Seriously? Where did you hear that? This isn’t the Caribbean or the Canadian shores of Nova Scotia. It’s a lake. A lake! No pirate ships.”

  I lowered my voice and looked at the expressions on their faces. Maybe they were closer to eleven than twelve. And very gullible. “Okay, keep going.”

  “I told my mom that Stuart and I were going to ride our bikes on the path behind our winery but we went down to the lake where the big rocks are.”

  I widened my eyes. “You rode your bikes on Route 14?”

  “We were off to the side,” Stuart said.

  “That’s so dangerous. I’d ground the both of you for life, too. Never mind. Go on.”

  This time Eli spoke. “When we got to Lake View Winery, we waited until there was no traffic and crossed the road and the railroad tracks. After that we stashed our bikes on the rocks and looked around. When we didn’t find anything, we thought maybe it was hidden in that spot with the overgrown bushes and trees.

  “Yeah,” Stuart added. “That’s when we saw the thing.”

  “You mean, what you thought was a body?”

  “Uh-huh. The body.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The boys looked at each other and then at me. “That’s why we came here,” Eli said. “Um, uh, it might be a body but we’re not sure. It looked like a big hairy arm. We didn’t want to get too close.”

  Stuart poked Eli in the arm. “You didn’t want to get too close. You were worried about germs.”

  “Fine. Fine. Where was this arm or thing exactly?” I asked.

  “In the wooded bushy area.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Not really. But we can find it real easy. Like really, really easy.”

  The last thing I needed was to endanger those kids by following them or taking them to some spot across from Catherine Trobert’s winery. I tried again. “Uh, if you were going back, how would you find the spot?”

  “We crossed the road in front of that big Lake View Winery sign. We didn’t walk too far into the bushes and woods,” Eli said.

  I tried not to groan. “Suppose you describe that hairy arm for me. Maybe it was a big tree limb that fell.”

  Both boys shook their heads. “Not a tree limb.”

  “But you didn’t see the rest of the body? Just the arm?”

  Eli nodded. “We didn’t want to get too close. Can we show it to you? You’ll know if it’s a dead person.”

  So much for my screenplay. Unless I want to start a new one entitled The Hairy Arm on the Beach.

  “You know I can’t drive you there. Your parents would have me arrested.” And I’m already on shaky ground with Deputy Hickman from the Yates County Sheriff’s Office. “And don’t tell me you’ll meet me there. If anything happens to you, I’ll be arrested and locked up for life. That’s worse than being grounded for life.”

  “So you’re going to do nothing?” Stuart asked.

  “I didn’t say that. I’ll go over there and check it out. Meanwhile, the two of you should head back home. And don’t go out on Route 14. Take the wooded path behind my house until you reach Billsburrow Road. Then you can take the one that leads to the back of Eli’s property. Got it?”

  “How are we going to find out if it’s a dead body?”

  “If it’s a dead body, you’ll know, all right. The sheriff’s office will send a deputy to your homes. Then your secret won’t be safe. They always want to get a statement from the person who finds the body.”

  “Can I get your cell number?” Eli asked. “I can call you.”

  He held out a phone and I widened my eyes. “You have a cell phone? You’re not even a teenager.”

  “Heck. Stuart’s seven-year-old brother has one. It’s no big deal.”

  Tell that to my service provider.

  Stuart furrowed his brow. “Can’t you tell them you found the body and leave us out of it?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t very well tell them that for no rational reason I took a walk in a bushy wooded area and came across a dead body. Nope, finders keepers in this case.”

  Eli and Stuart looked as if they might cry.

  “Hey,” I said. “Maybe it’ll turn out to be a branch after all. And if not, everyone will be so busy with the discovery, they’ll forget about punishing you.” Like that would ever happen. “Meanwhile, the two of you should go home. But before you do, I’ll get you some bottles of water and a few cookies. How does that sound?”

  “Good to me,” Eli said. “Thanks.”

  I motioned for them to wait in the lobby and walked over to our bistro for the water and cookies. In the background I heard Eli saying, “I told you she was really cool.”

  Really cool. Tell that to Deputy Hickman if I do find a body.

  Eli and Stuart devoured the cookies as if they hadn’t eaten whole food in decades. With a mouthful of cookie still in his mouth, Eli asked if they could visit with Alvin on the way out.

  “He’s the neatest goat in the world,” Eli said. “I love how he nuzzles my face and gives kisses.”

  “Yeah,” Stuart added. “He especially likes it if you rub under his chin.” Then he turned to Eli. “Why don’t your parents get a goat for your winery?”

  “My mother said the dog is enough.” Then to me, “It’s okay, then? If we see Alvin before we go home?”

  “Aren’t you afraid he’ll spit on you?”

  Eli looked at me as if I stepped out of a spaceship. “Spit? Heck, no. He rubs and cuddles against us.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Every time I went near that goat, he spat at me. And not little bits of spit, mind you. Enormous mounds of the stuff he had brewing in his mouth. My sister and brother-in-law thought having a goat would be a wonderful addition to the winery. Family-friendly entertainment and all that.

  Alvin was a Nigerian dwarf goat and the size of a small camel. His fenced-in area was adjacent to the tasting room and included a nice-sized house complete with a ramp and some wooden structures for him to stand on. The unfortunate vineyard crew got stuck feeding him and cleaning his pen. Oh, and walking him into the large barn whenever there was a severe weather threat. As far as I was concerned, Alvin was the threat.

  He hated loud noises and had busted down his fence on a few occasions. Once, he even got inside the tasting room and wreaked havoc. I shudder when I think of all those broken wine bottles. However, he seemed to enjoy children and was quite gentle with them. I hated to think it was just me he despised.

  When the boys left the winery, Lizzie gave me
a wave. “What was that all about?”

  “Probably nothing. The taller kid is Henry Speltmore’s son. Remember? The graffiti artist?”

  “Indeed I do. Best not remind Franz. He’d want to draw and quarter that kid.”

  “He and half the other winemakers on the lake whose barrels were tagged with graffiti. Eli, that’s the kid’s name, thought he might have seen a dead body and wanted me to check on it for him. Yikes. I must have some reputation around this lake.”

  “Are you going to do that? Check, I mean.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to. Let Cammy know, will you? Once I’m done playing amateur sleuth, it’s back home to work on my real job. A dead body. Good Grief. Next time a vote comes up for year-round school, I’m telling Francine to say yes.”

  Lizzie smiled. “Have a nice day, dear. I’ll see you tomorrow. And remember to take notes. Nancy Drew always took copious notes.”

  And her white gloves. But I won’t be taking them either.

  Chapter 3

  I went home, made sure Charlie had enough kibble in his bowl and called Catherine Trobert. If I wasn’t mistaken, she and her family owned the land directly across from their winery, and the last thing I needed was for someone to tell her I was tromping around there.

  Catherine, like most of the winery owners, was in her tasting room helping out. The girl who answered my call immediately got Catherine on the line.

  “Norrie. Hello! Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, Catherine, everything’s fine.”

  “I’m so sorry that you’ll be leaving us so soon. I had such hopes Steven would be able to reconnect with you but he’s got an impossible schedule in Maine. Did you know his office even has their own private investigator? Imagine that. A law office with its own investigator. I knew insurance companies had them, but not law firms. Steven keeps me informed about everything in the Portland area. Well, maybe you’ll be back for the holidays and things will work out.”

  Heavens no! We were never connected. He didn’t even know who I was in high school. And I’m already dating a lawyer. One that doesn’t say “Yo” when he sees me. (Of course, we’re talking a few years back, but still . . .)

  “Um, yeah. Sorry about his schedule. I’m actually going to be around here for a few more weeks. Jason and Francine are tracking another insect, but that’s not why I called. This is probably nothing, but Henry Speltmore’s kid was poking around that bushy wooded area across the road from you and he and his little buddy were convinced they saw a dead body. Well, the hairy arm of a body, but it could have been a branch.”

  “My word! How do you know this?”

  “Because Eli, that’s his name, biked over to Two Witches to find me. He and his friend think I’m the expert on dead bodies.”

  Catherine made a sound that could have been a chuckle or a gasp. Hard to tell. “I can’t very well call the sheriff’s office over something so vague and I won’t get out of here until much later today.”

  “Oh, I don’t expect you to go over there. I’m willing to check it out. I just wanted to let you know, that’s all. I’ll park my car off to the side of the road and see what I can find.”

  “By yourself?”

  “I may give Theo Buchman a call if he’s not too busy at the Grey Egret. Besides, it’s daylight. I’ll be fine either way. If I find something, I’ll call Deputy Hickman and let you know. But frankly, my money’s on a dead branch.”

  “Be careful, Norrie. And pull your car way over. The other day there was a fender bender on the road across from here. Minor but the county still sent out the militia.”

  “I will.”

  She’s sounds like Lizzie.

  True, it was daylight, but the thought of coming across a dead body wasn’t something I relished. I should know. I’ve seen enough of them. Without wasting a second, I called Theo. He and his life partner, Don, owned the Grey Egret winery and we shared the same driveway/road. If it wasn’t for the two of them, I doubt I would have survived a year at Two Witches.

  I know Francine had asked them to keep an eye on me like she did with Godfrey, but what she didn’t expect was that we forged a close friendship. One that I appreciated and valued.

  “Is Theo available?” I asked when a chipper-sounding girl answered the phone.

  “He’s right here. Hold on. Oh, I’m supposed to ask who’s calling.”

  “Norrie Ellington from Two Witches.”

  Next thing I knew, Theo was on the line. “Hey, Norrie. What’s up?”

  “How busy are you?”

  “In general or right now?”

  “Now.”

  “Not very. The afternoon lull’s started and I was about to grab a snack. Why? What’s going on?”

  I took a breath and spoke quickly before he’d have the chance to interrupt. “Eli Speltmore, the miscreant son of our fearless wine trail president, blew in here on his bike with a buddy of his. They think they saw a dead body across the road from Lake View Winery.”

  “Why didn’t he blow into his own father’s winery?”

  “Because he’s only eleven or twelve and wasn’t supposed to leave their property. Instead, he and his friend biked down the lake to look for pirate treasure and— Hey, this is a long story and I can fill you in if you go with me to check it out. It’ll only take a half hour. I already told Catherine I’d be on her property.”

  For a minute I thought the line went dead. Then Theo spoke. “It’s probably a branch, you know. Or a round rock that looks like a head. Kids have wild imaginations.”

  “But what if it is a body? Like I said, thirty minutes. The fresh air will do you good. You’ve been cooped up in your tasting room all morning. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Aargh. Give me five minutes. I’ll let Don know. Good thing we’ve got a full staff today.”

  “I’ll pull up in front and wait for you. I’ll also bring you a few of Fred’s homemade chocolate crunch cookies. I’ve got a bunch of them here.”

  “Great. I’ll need at least two in order to pacify Don. See you in a sec.”

  Like our winery, the Grey Egret had that lodge theme going for it. Only their color choice was teal and gray and their structure was smaller than ours. Theo was already down the steps and in the parking lot when I pulled up.

  He opened the passenger door but didn’t get in. “Don all but salivated when I mentioned Fred’s cookies. I’d better deliver them to him before we head out.”

  “No problem.” I handed Theo a small Ziploc bag filled with cookies and he raced back inside the building. Seconds later he was back in my car and buckled up. One look at the crumbs around his mouth and I knew he had just eaten one.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now, give me the long story.”

  I proceeded to tell him everything Eli and Stuart told me and he couldn’t stop laughing at the part about pirates on Seneca Lake. Fortunately, there was a substantial pull-off across the way from Lake View Winery and I nosed the car even farther toward the lake. Last thing I needed was a fender bender, even if I drove an ancient but reliable Toyota.

  Theo gave the side door a shove and looked around. Piles of large rocks reminiscent of Stonehenge were everywhere with outcroppings of grass and weeds in between them. “Where exactly is this body supposed to be?”

  “Off to our right somewhere in that bushy wooded area.”

  “Gee, think you could be more specific?”

  “All Eli told me was that they didn’t walk too far in. Of course, I have no idea where they started, but my guess is that they used what looks like some sort of footpath.”

  “Aragh. There are at least three or four of them leading into those bushes. Let’s take the center one and see where it takes us.”

  There may have been three or four small footpaths, but once inside the wooded area they all merged into one path.

  “This is good,” I said. “Takes the guesswork out. Look around. Do you see anything?”

  “Dirt, branches, animal scat, oh, look—a bird’s nes
t. Must have gotten blown off during a storm.”

  “Yeah, other than the bird’s nest, that’s all I see, too. Hey, check out those big logs on the ground a few yards up. Maybe that’s what those boys saw and it spooked them. I mean, these woods are kind of creepy even if the trees aren’t that tall. It’s the bushes and brush that make it so, so—”

  “Annoying?”

  “I was going to say intimidating.”

  I raced ahead to the five or six old decaying logs and looked around. “Ew! Crawly insects on these logs. Eck! Godfrey would have a field day. I’m going to take a photo and send it to him.”

  Theo scratched something off of his cheek and chuckled. “Thoughtful gesture. And speaking of insects, these damn gnats are miserable. Let’s hurry this up and get out of here.”

  I took two quick camera shots from my iPhone and kept walking. “Yuck! I think you’re right. Over to my left a bunch of flies are buzzing around. Eli and Stuart didn’t mention bugs.”

  “They’re eleven-year-old kids. They love bugs.”

  “Gross.”

  We kept walking but the footpath circled around, so the flies remained in my peripheral vision. I turned my head to catch a glimpse and did a double take. “Hey, I think I might know what those kids saw. Seems to be a long log and there are some bushes right behind it. Not to mention a few rocks. Come on, let’s have a closer look and get the heck out of here. Those gnats are becoming real pests.”

  I stopped to retie the laces on my sneakers and Theo walked ahead of me. He was about four or five yards ahead when I heard him shout, “It’s not a log.” Then, “You may not want to look.”

  “Oh my God! Is it what I think it is?”

  “Unless they’re adding hair to male manikins, then yeah. It’s what you think.”

  “A dead man? It’s a dead man? How dead?”

  “What do you mean, how dead? Dead is dead and this one is dead. Half hour my butt. This nightmare will take the rest of the afternoon and then some.”

  I inched my way closer and squinted. Not because of any sunlight but because I didn’t want to take in the whole scene all at once. I stopped a yard or so from the body and bit my lower lip. Theo was off to the side and had a better vantage point for scoping it out but I was fine right where I stood. A zillion flies were all over the body and I got itchy just looking.