From Port to Rigor Morte

by J. C. Eaton

“Like I said, give that brain of yours a rest and have a nice evening.”

  I wanted to take Cammy’s advice. I really did. However, things didn’t exactly work as planned. Glenda cornered me the minute I left the kitchen.

  “The woman whose bracelet you found is in the vicinity. Zenora sensed it. Said she was certain. She intends to invoke a powerful chant this evening to draw the woman closer to us.”

  “Where? Where is she chanting?” The muscles in my neck tensed.

  “At her place.”

  Whew!

  “Too bad we can’t post a lost and found sign about the bracelet because anyone can claim it belongs to them.”

  “We don’t have to. Zenora said the bracelet’s owner will sense its proximity and reach out to us.”

  “Fine. I’ll keep it in a safe place.” And I’m certainly not getting my hopes up.

  “If this doesn’t work,” Glenda said, “Zenora is willing to tackle transcendental telekinesis. There’s a workshop scheduled for the same date as that wine release event.”

  Please don’t let it come to that. Whatever it is.

  “Thank her for me. And tell her there’s no rush.”

  For a minute, I had a crazy thought. Maybe Zenora wasn’t all that kooky and the bracelet’s owner would waltz in here. Then reality slapped me in the face and I made a mental note to focus on tried-and-true methods of investigation rather than fabrications and fantasy.

  Chapter 19

  I hung out at the winery long enough to give everyone a break before returning home to review my progress with Kisses on a Sandy Beach. Midway through the fourth scene, John called and my plans for a cozy dinner with Bradley evaporated.

  “Poker game tonight at eight. Cattycorner from the Dresden Hotel. That crew of ours is worse than a bunch of old hens. As soon as I mentioned it, they all chimed in. I must be the only stick-in-the-mud around here. Of course, none of them would fess up to ever being involved with gambling but they sure knew enough.”

  “Like what? And cattycorner where? Which house?”

  “Not house. Garage out back behind a two-story house with faded white paint. Really faded according to one of the guys. Said the clapboards looked gray.”

  “All of those houses are white and faded. And most of them are two-story. Were they more specific about the word cattycorner? Like which diagonal direction?”

  “You’re not thinking of going there, are you?”

  “I, um, er . . .”

  “Look, Norrie, these aren’t your run-of-the-mill players. Not from what our guys said. They’re diehard gamblers and they play for high stakes. Who knows how they’ll react if you snoop around. And at night, no less. It’s an invitation for trouble.”

  “Don’t worry. If I do any snooping around it will be from a distance. And I won’t be alone.”

  “Best not be there at all. That’s all I’m saying.”

  I thanked John and told him again not to worry. In the past year, Theo and Godfrey had taken on the role of amateur sleuth sidekick. Theo, with a certain amount of enthusiasm and Godfrey with a sense of duty. And while Bradley certainly came through on more than one occasion, it was more a matter of last-minute survival than actual planning. And in all honesty, I had no idea if he’d be willing to poke around at a backdoor poker game with me.

  I mulled the thought over for a good five or six minutes before I picked up the landline and called his office. If our lighthearted and physical relationship was going to take on a deeper aspect, then I needed to find out how willing the guy was to take a few risks.

  “Norrie! What’s up? Hope you’re not calling to bail out on me.”

  “Bail out? Not on your life. Although bail is kind of an interesting word at the moment.”

  “Huh?”

  “I may have a lead into Brewer’s murder but it involves some snooping around at a poker game in Dresden. Tonight.”

  “A poker game, huh? One of those illicit ones that could get the players arrested?”

  “Possibly but not likely. This one’s been around for years. The players change but not the setup from what I know. Apparently Brewer was no stranger to these games. If he owed someone money and that person went to collect, then things might have gone south. I’m thinking a fight in a street where Brewer gets punctured in the neck with something and then run over. It would explain the autopsy report. Geez, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

  “The answer is yes.”

  “Yes what? Getting ahead of myself?”

  “Yes, I’ll go snooping around with you tonight. Do you have any idea when this thing starts?”

  “Eight. I found out from our vineyard crew. I’ll explain over dinner. Dress down in case we have to crawl around.”

  “Crawl around? I figured car surveillance.”

  “Um, yeah. It usually starts that way. The crawling around is just in case. The Red Dove Tavern is casual. Wear something that suits both occasions.”

  “Oh, brother. How about I pick you up at six? That’ll give us plenty of time.”

  “Works for me.”

  “Wonderful. Put on your best crawling around outfit. Meanwhile, I’ll add detective work to my résumé in case I need to find another job.”

  “Keep the one you have.” And pray we don’t need Steven Trobert as our criminal defense since you’re in family law.

  Elated didn’t come close to the euphoria I felt when the call ended. Bradley didn’t hesitate at the mention of prying around. He even sounded somewhat excited. Then again, it could have been my imagination.

  • • •

  The Red Dove Tavern was a fairly new establishment in downtown Geneva. Situated in a nondescript brick building, it featured locally sourced ingredients and offered an ambience that welcomed college students and townies alike. With its long industrial-modern bar, and ample table seating, it was no wonder it had become quite popular.

  Bradley and I arrived a little before six thirty and nabbed a decent table across from the bar. We both ordered mixed green salads and the cod and clam special. And while the establishment featured our local wines and a number of beers on tap, we chose to have iced tea.

  “I’m not drinking anything that will slow down my senses tonight,” I said. “This may turn out to be the golden opportunity I need to piece this thing together.”

  Bradley laughed. “I don’t need to slow down my reaction time. And I’m not talking about driving. I’m talking about whatever happens when we get to Dresden. Tell me, what exactly did you have in mind?”

  “The game’s supposed to start at eight, so if we park inconspicuously on the street, we’ll be able to see who walks around that house to the garage. And, we can take photos from our phones. That’s all there is to it. Spy and snap. Plain and simple.”

  In retrospect, I should have figured nothing would be plain and simple. When we got to Dresden, a twenty-minute drive down the lake, and Bradley parked his car, there were no other vehicles on the street. We had arrived too soon. So much for being inconspicuous. I was certain we’d be held up by a passing train making its way north, but no such luck.

  “Maybe we should park in the Dresden Hotel’s parking lot and wait,” I said. “It’s Friday night and the place is packed.”

  “Good idea.”

  Bradley and I waited in the parking lot for over twenty minutes but the only movement we saw was for patrons of the hotel. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and sighed. “Hate to say this but maybe the game started earlier than eight.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of thinking the same thing. Look, we can leave your car here and nonchalantly walk across the street and check it out. Those old garages have side windows. I guarantee whoever’s playing will be looking at his or her cards, not the windows.”

  “I’d tell you to wait until it gets darker but that’s another hour or so with daylight savings. Worst that can happen is that someone notices us and we tell them we were taking a shortcut.”

  I nodded. “See, you’re already thinking like an am
ateur sleuth.”

  “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or what. Come on, might as well get this over with. Don’t forget your phone.”

  “No worries, I’ve got it.”

  “Fine. Mine’s in my pocket, too.”

  Thankfully it was a warm evening that didn’t require outerwear. Bradley took my advice and wore jeans and a shirt. Almost identical to what I threw on. We kept our voices low as we crossed the street and hustled past a large oak tree adjacent to the clapboard house.

  “This has got to be the place,” I whispered, “because the house on the other side isn’t white. Want to bet whoever is in there parked at the hotel like we did?”

  “Oh, yeah. They’re not stupid.”

  And while it didn’t appear as if any activity was going on in the house itself, lights were on inside an old garage that was set back a good twenty to thirty feet from the house. Unlike modern garage doors that opened vertically, this one had the original barn sliders so the voices inside were bound to carry. Worse yet, so were ours. I worried the soft crunching noises our feet made on the lawn would sound like a stampede.

  “I was right,” I said, careful to keep my voice low. “Windows on the side. Filthy, too, from the looks of it.”

  “Saves them money. No need to install curtains.”

  “Look in from an angle so they won’t be able to see you.”

  Bradley smiled. One of those cute impish smiles. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

  “I’m full of surprises.”

  We moved closer to the window near the oak tree and I peered inside. “Spot on. It’s a five-person game. See for yourself.”

  Bradley stepped forward and I moved back to give him a wide berth. He took out his phone and aimed it at the window. “Much easier this way to study their faces without them seeing ours. Good thing iPhones have camera apps.”

  I wasn’t sure if his method would work but anything was worth the chance. A few seconds later we backed away from the window, positioned ourselves directly behind the garage, and looked at the image on the phone. Two players had their backs to the window and one was off to the side. Impossible to tell if they were male or female, but the other two who were directly across from the window were men. Men I didn’t recognize. Not that I expected to, but we could always circulate the picture around.

  “Let’s try the opposite window,” I said. “We’ll get everyone’s mug shot and then we can get out of here.”

  Bradley and I had barely turned the corner of the garage and moved to the opposite window when the slider door opened and a woman stepped inside. Middle-aged or maybe a tad older. Slender, perfectly styled dark hair, white short-sleeved cardigan, tank top and dark pants. Her voice carried in the stillness and I tried not to make a move as she closed the slider behind her.

  “Nice of you to start without me, gentlemen. Now, who’s going to be a dear and deal me in? Don’t worry. I’ll wait until you finish this hand. But I warn you, I’m out for money tonight. I need to compensate my son for taking care of a rather sticky matter for me a while back.” She put her hand on one of the player’s shoulders and added, “Wouldn’t you agree?” Then she turned her gaze to the table. “What’s it tonight? Five-card draw or stud?”

  One of the men stood and moved a chair from the wall to the table.

  “That’s interesting,” Bradley whispered.

  “What? The woman?”

  “No. Somehow I expected a smoke-filled room but there’s not a cigarette in sight. What are the chances of that, huh?”

  “Maybe they’re not smokers, but I saw at least four beer bottles. Let’s not press our luck.”

  Using the same maneuver Bradley did, I snapped a photo. Then I stepped aside and let him do the same. “Okay,” I said. “We got what we wanted, now we can—”

  I never got the chance to finish my sentence. In that instant, all hell broke loose.

  Chapter 20

  An all-too-familiar voice yelled, “Don’t any of you make a move!” and next thing I knew the sliding garage door opened and Deputy Hickman stormed inside. A dazed Clarence stood three or four feet behind him.

  “Uh-oh,” I whispered to Bradley as I moved away from the window. “This doesn’t look good.”

  “Want to take a chance and make a run to my car?”

  “And miss what this is all about? I mean, other than the illegal gambling.”

  We moved farther away from the window and closer to the rear of the garage. I could see some of the card players from the side angle but it was like watching a basketball game behind one of those large columns.

  Bradley leaned over my shoulder and I could feel his breath on my neck. “Best bet is stay still and listen. Don’t try to sneak another photo or you’re apt to be seen.”

  I swallowed and remained fixed against the side of the garage, leaning my head every so often to get a better look inside. Grizzly Gary’s normal speaking voice is loud and intense but tonight it was all but deafening. “With the exception of authorized gaming establishments, gambling is prohibited in the state of New York. This cozy little operation sure doesn’t look like any bona fide establishment to me.”

  Before anyone could speak, he turned to Clarence and snapped his fingers. “Don’t stand there with your mouth open. Take names. Write them down. Names, addresses, phone numbers and emails. Better yet, have the nice folks around the table take out their IDs.”

  “If I might make a suggestion, sir, perhaps I could use my phone to take pictures of their IDs.”

  Deputy Hickman responded with a clap of his hands that rivaled his voice. Next thing I knew, what appeared to be driver’s licenses were tossed on the table adjacent to upside-down card hands. As Clarence photo’d the licenses, Deputy Hickman moved closer to the table. “It’s my understanding this used to be Davis Brewer’s little operation. Which one of you is running it now?”

  I only had a side angle and I needed the entire “full-screen view.” I squeezed Bradley’s wrist and inched my way closer to the window. None of the six people made a sound and the three faces I did see epitomized the term poker face. That didn’t stop Grizzly Gary from spewing off a litany of legal-sounding words that at one point caused Bradley to stifle a laugh. Words like: penal code, fraud, misdemeanor, felony, regulating authority, and acquisition and maintenance of premises.

  Bradley tiptoed closer to where I stood. “He’s shaking the tree to see if any fruit falls off.”

  Next, Deputy Hickman pointed to the stacks of tokens on the table. “I’m guessing this isn’t penny poker. You know what that means, don’t you? Felony charges.”

  “Does it?” I mouthed to Bradley.

  He shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

  Just then, the late entry to the game gave her hair a pat before resting her head in the palm of her hand. “Come on, Gary. You know as well as I do this is a friendly little neighborhood game that’s been going on since you were in grade school. What is it you’re really after?”

  “My sources tell me Brewer orchestrated this friendly little neighborhood game, only it wasn’t so friendly. Word has it, this little endeavor may have been what got him killed. And it wasn’t the game, it was one of the players. So I’ll ask again, who’s in charge now?”

  Not a single move from anyone. Except for the stupid birds that apparently roosted under the roofing shingles where the wood had chipped away. With dusk fast approaching, a few of them darted above my head at such close proximity I gasped. But that wasn’t all. In an effort to duck, I leaned too far into the window and made eye contact with Clarence.

  He jumped back from where he stood and knocked into the table, causing the stacks of poker chips to fall. Not that it mattered. I seriously doubted the game would continue. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst of it. Clarence immediately shouted, “Woman in the window! Woman in the window!”

  At that point Grizzly Gary yelled “Stay here!” to the people at the table and “You, too!” at Clarence.
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  I turned to Bradley. “Guess it’s too late to make that run to your car, huh?”

  My “huh” was barely audible because Deputy Hickman’s voice bellowed like nobody’s business in the quiet night air. “Miss Ellington! Miss Ellington! Don’t you as much as move an inch!”

  I rolled my eyes and took a long, deep breath. “I was only—”

  “Interfering with a crime investigation? And what unsuspecting accomplice did you manage to talk into joining you this time? I’m accustomed to seeing Mr. Buchman at your escapades.”

  “Um, Theo is—”

  “It doesn’t matter. Now, before I write you and your sidekick up for hindering an investigation, I suggest you return to wherever you parked your car and thank your lucky stars I’m in a good mood.”

  With that, he turned away from us and stomped back to the front of the garage.

  Bradley gave my shoulder a squeeze and laughed. “I can see where he gets his moniker.”

  “I don’t suppose I better press my luck. Drat! And just when I thought one of them would open his or her mouth about Brewer’s murder. I suppose I can get Gladys to tell me who got arrested.”

  “Hate to say it, but I don’t think any of them are going to be arrested. Your deputy is interested in solving a murder, not writing up the locals for gambling.”

  “So now what? Back to my place?”

  Bradley shook his head. “Not right away. I say we hang out in your car and see who walks across the street to get into their cars. Granted, we can’t catch them all, but we can get the license plates from the ones we do see. I may be able to pull in a favor from a police officer friend of mine in Kingston. Former college roommate.”

  “Really? Would he mind running an extra plate? Godfrey got the number of the white SUV from that couple in the woods.”

  “I’ll use my best powers of persuasion.”

  “Seriously? That’s the sexiest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “Whoa. If that’s the sexiest thing, I guess I’ve been doing this wrong all these months.”