by J. C. Eaton
“No.” I shook my head. “The boys weren’t kidnapped initially. Although those men were planning some sort of disposal operation before you got here.”
Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ve got it all on tape. Every last word. You won’t need circumstantial evidence to nail them.”
Eli looked up from the palm of his hand, where the small weapon rested. “Huh? Who’s getting nailed? Can’t you tell my parents I was kidnapped?”
Deputy Hickman immediately snapped a finger at two deputies who stood a few feet away. Had I looked closer, I would have realized one of them was Clarence. “Get on the horn and have the parents notified. Tell them to drive to our office in Penn Yan. You and Deputy Guenther can take the boys’ statements once you get there.”
“Yes, sir,” was all Clarence said. He motioned for Eli and Stuart to follow him and thankfully Eli didn’t argue. He did, however, walk toward me and put one of those projectiles in my hand. It was a small plastic curved bow with orange tips. “Here, you could use this. It’s a Lightseekers Spinblade. Works great with rubber bands.”
“I, um, er . . .”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get another one.”
I knew it was his way of saying thank-you and I smiled. “You’re welcome. Go easy on your parents. Both of you. They’ve been pretty worried.”
“Yeah,” Stuart said. “Too bad that won’t stop them from grounding us again.”
Again? What about the first time?
“Does this mean Theo and I can go, too?” I asked Grizzly Gary.
“That’s up to you. We can take your statements here or you can give them back at our office.”
Theo groaned. “Here’s fine. This night is long enough.”
Deputy Hickman directed us to another deputy, who in turn pointed the way to the kitchen. We plunked ourselves at a rather expensive-looking oak table and proceeded to tell him everything that had transpired. Unlike his boss, this deputy actually took notes using an iPad.
Theo managed to sneak in a brief text to Don with the promise of a full-blown narrative once we got back. I didn’t wait that long to let Bradley and Godfrey know what had happened. The minute we got into my car, this time with me behind the wheel, I called both of them, beginning with Bradley.
He sounded dazed but quickly regained full consciousness. “Tell me I’m not dreaming. What the heck time is it? Never mind. I’m still reeling over what you just said. Kelsey had a gun to your head and Eli zapped him with an action figure?”
“Actually, it was an auxiliary piece to an action figure.”
“This is unbelievable. I want to take you in my arms but I’m stuck in Rockland County. Don’t worry, I’ll wrap this case up and get back by the weekend.”
“Yeah, the Speltmore tawny port release is not to be missed.”
“Who cares about port wine? It’s you I miss!”
When the call ended, Theo chuckled. “Write down those lines. You can use them in one of your screenplays.”
“Very funny.”
The next number I dialed was Godfrey’s.
“It’s the middle of the night, Norrie. What’s going on? Please don’t tell me you want me to sneak around with you because you think you can trap a killer. Last Saturday when I told you to use your powers of deduction, I meant on paper.”
“Relax. The killers are already in custody.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because Theo and I tracked them down. It didn’t start out that way but things kind of spiraled when I realized where the missing boys were. Listen, I know it’s late, so why don’t you go back to sleep and I’ll call you in the morning. Better yet, I’ll meet you for coffee at Dunkin’.”
“I won’t need coffee. There’s enough adrenaline pumping away in my system right now to last me the week.”
“Then drink decaf. I’ll be there at seventy thirty. Plenty of time before you get to the Experiment Station.”
When that call ended, Theo asked me if there was anyone else I wanted to wake up, but before I could respond, I got a second text from Zenora.
“The turmoil surrounding your aura has dissipated. You can thank me later. Watch where you step when you get home.”
I leaned forward to catch Theo’s eye. “Watch where I step? What the heck has she done?”
Chapter 39
“Looks like Don has every light on in the house,” I said when I turned off Route 14 and onto Two Witches Hill.
“Yeah, he tends to do that. Want to come inside? I’m sure he’ll be anxious to hear every last detail.”
“Not this late. Besides, poor Charlie is probably hungry. I honestly can’t remember when I fed him last. I’ll catch up with you and Don tomorrow. Yeesh. I’d better shine my high beams at the front of my house. I’m petrified to think what Zenora’s done. In fact, you’d better come along for the ride. I’ll turn around and drop you off once we survey the damage.”
As it turned out, Zenora must have had connections with a number of poultry farms in the area because piles of crushed eggshells surrounded the perimeter of the house like ant hills on steroids. Theo laughed the minute he saw them and didn’t stop laughing even when I got out of the car to take a closer look.
“Sweet dreams,” he announced. “I thought that stuff was used to prevent actual garden pests, not the ones from the netherworld. No worries. In a few months the snow will cover that mess.”
I was speechless but crushed eggshells were the last thing on my mind. Food and sleep vied for first place and sleep won. The next morning I met Godfrey for breakfast and relived every part of the prior day’s adventure.
“That’s why Francine and Jason had better arrive in Rochester within the next two weeks,” I said. “I don’t care what kind of cockroach they find in Madagascar. This place is teeming with bodies. Maybe they can zoom in on one of those.”
“I can’t believe how close you were to getting killed. And to think it was some eleven-year-old kid who came to your rescue.”
“Not necessarily eleven. He could be twelve. And it was me who came to his rescue. Not to mention nailing Brewer and Liguori’s killers. As soon as I get home I intend to call Gladys Pipp at the Yates County Safety Building, aka sheriff’s office, and see what she has to say. I wager Deputy Hickman’s doing the happy dance right now even though Theo and I did all the work.”
“I take it you didn’t catch the news this morning. It came on right after the farm report.”
“What news?”
“They may have to drop the charges. Something about an illegal search.”
“What? Drop the charges? They pretty much had a full-blown confession on Theo’s phone.”
“Yeah, but that was illegally obtained as well. It won’t hold up in court.”
“Great. We can’t even get them for kidnapping because Eli and Stuart were stowaways. What does that leave?”
Godfrey took a sip of his coffee and ran his hand through his light, wispy hair. “Environmental sabotage.”
“Huh?”
“When Brewer’s body was removed from the Troberts’ vineyard, which by the way is now public knowledge, it transported the erythroneura, otherwise known as the leafhopper, to an uninfested one, resulting in contamination.”
“That’s really a thing?”
“Yes, it’s a thing. And it carries hefty fines. Not to mention all sorts of legal ramifications.”
“But the Troberts own both areas. The vineyard and the lake property.”
“Not all of the lake property. The Experiment Station owns a swath of adjacent land.”
“Hmm, I wager if Barbara Stanowicz was charged with—what did you say that was?—oh, yeah, environmental sabotage, then she’ll turn on her silent partner and her unscrupulous son.”
“I’ll make some calls.”
It took some doing, but in less than two days new charges were filed, making the original murder charges seem like child’s play. Who knew that unwelcome insects could wield so
much power?
I got the complete story on Friday morning when I phoned Gladys and found out Barbara, Kelsey, and Boyd turned on each other like the ratfinks they were. The Troberts were no longer persons of interest in the Brewer murder and the Speltmores were cleared of any wrongdoing.
“I can’t believe one woman had her claws into so many shady business deals,” I said to Gladys.
“Oh, you can believe it, all right. I’ve seen spiderwebs that were less complicated.”
“Think I’ve finally made it into Deputy Hickman’s good graces?”
There was a pause on the line before she responded. “I wouldn’t go quite that far.”
When I got off the phone with her, I prayed Catherine called Steven and told him to stay put in Maine but I wasn’t sure. Then Delia called. She wanted to thank me for finding Eli and apologized over and over for his “imbecilic and rash behavior that put everyone at risk.”
“He’s only eleven or twelve. Kids do those kinds of things.”
“Eleven or twelve? Is that what he told you? He won’t turn eleven until the end of the summer.”
Good grief. He’s only ten years old. Boy, are the Speltmores going to have their hands full in the next few years.
Delia also told me it was Boyd who used the Linde mini-lift following his altercation with Frank in order to position Frank’s body directly behind the cases of tawny port so as not to be readily seen. Apparently Frank forged Barbara’s signature on a contractual agreement, and when she learned the truth, she did to him what she’d done to Brewer for spurning her. Talk about carrying a grudge . . .
“So it wasn’t Boyd who stabbed Frank with Kelsey’s pen?” I asked.
“No, he and Frank got into fisticuffs but it was Barbara who jabbed him in the neck. Boyd covered up for her.”
“Wow. Talk about family loyalty.”
“If only we had that.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister Doris developed a case of hives when I asked if she’d watch Eli tomorrow night. Henry and I wanted to enjoy our release event without wondering what nefarious activity our son planned to engage in.”
“What about Stuart’s mother? Laura Landrow.”
“Stomach problems.”
“If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”
• • •
Meanwhile, the tasting room crew at Two Witches couldn’t get enough of the story and embellished it no end. Cammy was practically beaming and even Lizzie praised me for “adhering to the Nancy Drew Handbook.”
Finally, Bradley phoned me that night to let me know he was back home and ready to accompany me to the tawny port release the next evening. Last thing I needed was for him to meet Steven. I chewed my fingernails down to the nubs and prayed the airlines would go on strike. Or at least the ones that had flights originating in Maine. When I last spoke with Catherine she mentioned Steven catching an earlier flight. I was half tempted to call him myself and tell him his services were no longer needed, but that would have been overstepping my bounds. Instead, I drove myself crazy wondering if he’d show.
• • •
Saturday night finally rolled around and Speltmore Winery looked like something only Walt Disney and George Lucas could have come up with. And that was only the walkway, complete with festive lights, twirling tree displays, and synchronized digital images. Piped-in music from someone’s philharmonic orchestra let attendees know that this wasn’t an ordinary wine release.
I suppose Henry didn’t have much choice in the matter. He was, after all, the president of the Seneca Lake Wine Trail Association, and if he didn’t impress wine connoisseurs, who would?
The interior of the winery didn’t disappoint either. Glowing twinkle lights framed every corner and the bistro tables were transformed into works of art. A giant buffet spanned the length of the tasting room and an equally large wine tasting table stood directly opposite.
Bradley and I were about to help ourselves to a glass of wine when Theo rushed over. “Can you believe it? Every major wine magazine editor is here. Wine Spectator, Wine Enthusiast, and Finger Lakes Wine Country. And don’t get me started on the media. That’s Channel 10 right behind us and 13 WHAM is three feet away from them.”
“At least everything worked out,” I said.
Suddenly Catherine raced toward us and my pulse quickened. Too late. Steven was about to make his appearance and it was going to be awkward as hell.
“Norrie! There’s someone you need to see. No need to introduce you since you’re well- acquainted but we were thrilled he could make it. Without his help, we’d be behind bars.”
Huh? Steven’s help? What the heck did he do?
At that instant, Godfrey spun around from the buffet. Catherine grabbed him by his elbow and ushered him toward us. “Cornell’s entomology department has rescued us before but never when it came to legalities. Thanks to Dr. Klein we can all sleep peacefully at night.”
Godfrey. It’s Godfrey.
“Does this mean Steven won’t be coming?” I tried to hide the anxiety in my voice.
Catherine took a step forward and clasped both of my wrists with her hands. “Oh, dear. I should have told you sooner. Steven canceled his flight when we told him the situation had been resolved.” Then she squeezed my wrists to the point where I thought I’d lose the circulation in both hands. “Try to be positive. There’s always Christmas.”
With that, she thanked Godfrey again and disappeared into the crowd.
I beamed. “I don’t care if the tawny port winds up tasting like canal water. As far as I’m concerned, this is the best wine release event ever.”
Just then there was a loud crash from the area where the wineglasses were stacked. Followed by another crash. Not quite as loud but definitely audible.
Then Delia’s voice. “Eli Speltmore! You’re supposed to be upstairs with the math tutor we hired.” She glanced at Bradley, Godfrey, and me before wringing her hands.
Thoughts of Henry’s wine release turning into the Fall of Constantinople immediately sprang to mind. I grabbed my phone and sent a text to Zenora, who was a few miles away attending a workshop on telekinesis with Glenda. Her reply was instant and I shared it with Delia.
“Are you sure your friends won’t mind watching him?” she asked. “Eli gets distracted easily.”
“Not a worry. He’ll be in great company.”
When she marched off to corral Eli, Bradley and Godfrey shared the same stricken expression. “You better hope that kid doesn’t pick up any spells when he gets done with his playdate,” Bradley said.
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m hoping. I need to have him transport my sister and brother-in-law back to Two Witches before Cornell University and the Global Species Database find another bug to dangle in front of them.”
Godfrey bit his lower lip and groaned. “I think it may be too late for that.”
Books by J. C. Eaton
The Wine Trail Mysteries
A Riesling to Die
Chardonnayed to Rest
Pinot Red or Dead?
Sauvigone for Good
Divide and Concord
Death, Dismay and Rosé
From Port to Rigor Morte
The Sophie Kimball Mysteries
Booked 4 Murder
Ditched 4 Murder
Staged 4 Murder
Botched 4 Murder
Molded 4 Murder
Dressed Up 4 Murder
Broadcast 4 Murder
The Marcie Rayner Mysteries
Murder in the Crooked Eye Brewery
Murder at the Mystery Castle
Murder at Classy Kitchens
About the Author
J. C. Eaton is the pen name of husband-and-wife writing team Ann I. Goldfarb and James E. Clapp.
A New York native, Ann spent most of her life in education, first as a classroom teacher and later as a middle school principal and professional staff developer. Writing as J. C. Eaton, she and James have autho
red the Sophie Kimball Mysteries, the first book of which, Booked 4 Murder, took first place in the 2018 New Mexico-Arizona Book Awards in the Cozy Mystery category. They are also the authors of the Wine Trail Mysteries and the Marcie Rayner Mysteries. In addition, Ann has published nine YA time travel mysteries under her own name.
When James E. Clapp retired as the tasting room manager for a large upstate New York winery, he never imagined he’d be co-authoring cozy mysteries with his wife. Nonfiction in the form of informational brochures and workshop materials treating the winery industry were his forte, along with an extensive background and experience in construction that started with his service in the U.S. Navy and included vocational school classroom teaching.
You can visit Ann and James at www.jceatonmysteries.com, www.jceatonauthor.com, www.facebook.com/JCEatonauthor/, and www.timetravelmysteries.com.
