by Thea Cambert
Luke took her hand. “Don’t worry, my love,” he whispered. “The police will investigate more when something turns up.”
They started walking back toward the inn.
“But what if nothing turns up?” asked Alice.
“If someone was shot, something will turn up,” Luke assured her. “Hey—it couldn’t have been that you saw some kids playing cops and robbers, could it?”
Alice stopped walking. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe. No. I don’t think so. But maybe.”
“Well I’m glad you’re so sure of that,” Luke said with a chuckle.
Alice sighed and looked up at the starry sky. “Let’s just get back to the honeymooning business, okay?”
Luke leaned in to kiss her, but her cell phone rang. “Oh. Ha! Look at that! We’re standing on the rise,” said Alice, taking the phone out of her bag. “It’s Owen!”
Actually, it turned out to be both Owen and Franny, who were calling Alice on speakerphone. Alice switched her phone speaker on as well, so that Luke could join the conversation.
“So, how’s life in paradise?” asked Owen.
“It’s amazing—or, it was amazing. There was a little glitch, but now it’s amazing again,” said Alice, laughing at herself. “I thought I saw a murder happen while we were on our sunset hot air balloon ride.”
“You what?” said Owen. There was a scuffling sound. “Sorry, Alice. I dropped the phone. I thought you said—”
“That is what I said. I thought I saw someone get shot in the vineyard . . . from about a thousand feet overhead. But the police don’t believe me, and Luke didn’t see it happen, and I really just wish you guys were here.”
“Well, we are a crime-solving machine when we’re together,” said Owen.
“Alice, we believe you!” Franny called, and baby Theo gurgled in the background.
“Is that my favorite nephew I hear?” asked Alice. “Hi Theo! Aunt Alice and Uncle Luke miss you!” And it was true. Alice loved this haven she and Luke had found, but standing on the rise, hearing the voices of her friends, her family, she felt a pang of homesickness that surprised her. She suddenly longed to be sitting in their rooftop garden, drinking a glass of wine, and talking about her day at the bookshop with Owen and Franny.
After they hung up, she took Luke’s arm and they walked on toward the inn. As they came to the last rows of grapevines before the land gave way to the gardens and the yard, Alice saw something move in her peripheral vision. She stopped and turned to see Helena Emmerson, standing off to the side in the shadows, crying quietly.
She leaned close to Luke. “If nothing is wrong, then why is Helena crying?”
Chapter 5
Alice and Luke had fallen into bed the night before, exhausted. When the golden sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains the next morning, Alice found that she felt better. Refreshed. Relieved that all she had to do that day was spend time with the man she loved in this beautiful place. She smelled something wonderful coming from the dining room downstairs and smiled.
“Smells like fresh bread,” she said to Luke as he sleepily sat up in bed.
“Makes me wish Owen was here,” said Luke. “As amazing as the food is, he could still show the chef a thing or two down in the kitchen. Nobody’s better at bread than Owen.”
“He can probably sense you just said that all the way from Blue Valley,” said Alice. “I can almost imagine him gloating, even from here.”
They stretched and yawned and dressed, and then headed downstairs, following the wonderful smells of breakfast. They could hear voices and the soft clinks of glasses and silverware.
“Anyway,” Alice heard one diner saying, “that’s how you get an airier texture in your bread. It’s foolproof and it works, no matter the weather.”
“Wait. That sounded like—” Alice stopped walking and looked at Luke, who looked right back at her.
“Now, if you want to talk cakes, I have a million—”
“Owen!” Alice had spotted him by this time. He was sitting in the dining room, the head chef seated next to him taking notes. At Owen’s other elbow was Franny. “Franny!”
Alice ran to the table just as her brother, Ben, returned from the lavish buffet with a plate full of food.
“Ben! You’re all here!”
Owen and Franny jumped up and surrounded Alice in a hug.
“We couldn’t stay away,” said Owen. “We could tell on the phone last night that you needed us.”
“Hope this isn’t too weird,” said Ben, shaking hands with Luke. “I have the next few days off and couldn’t resist a little getaway with Franny. We haven’t had that since Theo was born.” He chuckled and looked at Alice. “Between Mom and Dad and Franny’s parents, Theo is going to have the time of his life while we’re away.”
“Weird?” said Luke with a laugh. “This is the opposite of weird. For us, this is normal.”
“He makes a good point,” said Owen. “And don’t worry—we won’t interfere in your honeymoon romance one bit. We’re just here to have a relaxing weekend, and if we solve the thing about Alice seeing the guy get shot in the vineyard, well, that’s just icing on the cake. Oh!” Owen looked back at the chef, who was standing next to the table. “Chef Bruno, let’s get together in the kitchen later, when we can exchange ideas and recipes.”
Chef Bruno gladly agreed and hurried off to the kitchen.
“I’m starved,” said Alice, eyeing the buffet. “Let’s eat breakfast and then take a walk. I’ll tell you the whole story. Oh—and our fun activity per Fabulous Bride Magazine this morning is miniature golf in Little Bavaria. You’re all coming.”
* * *
After a decadent breakfast of strawberry-laden French toast drizzled in warm maple syrup and melted butter, along with a cup of hot coffee, Alice felt very ready for a nice, long walk around the estate. She and Luke showed the others around—where the apple blossoms were prettiest, where the trail veered off to the lake, where the fresh produce in the kitchen came from, and where the cell phone-reception rise lay.
“So, you were on your hot air balloon ride . . .” Ben said when there was a pause in the conversation.
Alice nodded. “At dusk. Last night. We were drifting back toward the vineyard on the return trip. We were still up pretty high—but not that high, because we were going to be landing soon.”
“There was a little gust of wind,” said Luke. “And George, our pilot, asked me to help him. So he and I were distracted with that while Alice was looking down at the ground on the other side of the basket.”
“And what, exactly, did you see?” asked Ben. Alice half expected him to take out the little notebook and pen he always carried when investigating at work.
“A person in a dark-colored hoodie . . . either black or midnight blue . . . and a person wearing an Emmerson Estate uniform—you saw them at the inn, with the deep purple vest and the golden brown tie.”
When everyone nodded, Alice continued. “They were standing in one of these rows of vines.” She swept an arm out over the vineyard that lay before them. “They got into a fight and at some point, the person in the hood shot the Emmerson person. I just saw the gun in the hooded person’s hand, and I saw the Emmerson person lying on the ground motionless. Then the balloon drifted past, and I couldn’t see them anymore. It all happened so fast. The light wasn’t good. I couldn’t hear anything, because we were still too high up and George was using the balloon equipment, which can be noisy at times.”
“So, you landed, and then what?” asked Owen.
“I had remembered there was a large stone near the area where the shooting took place. So we ran out into the vines and found the stone and then looked all around that area. Nothing but deer poop.”
“Deer poop?” asked Franny.
“White-tailed deer poop,” said Alice, nodding sadly. “The police came, and there was no body, no blood, no evidence, and no one missing from the Emmerson staff. So basically they thought I was crazy.”
<
br /> “Are you sure you were looking in the right place?” asked Owen. “Things look different from above.”
“We’ll have to figure that out later,” said Luke, looking at his watch. “We’re expected at the miniature golf course in Little Bavaria in half an hour.”
“Oh, um, well, you two have a great time,” said Owen.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said Alice. “You won this honeymoon for us, Owen. You should all come, too.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you to miss out on any of the fun,” said Luke, chuckling. “Let’s all go.”
“I’m up for it if we can make it a tournament,” said Franny. “I like to win.”
“This woman has a competitive streak like no one else,” said Ben, slinging an arm around Franny.
“Are you kidding? I’ve seen her in the Blue Lake Fourth of July Paddleboat Regatta!” said Alice. “And Owen was her cohort.”
“They did beat you two,” said Luke.
“That was two summers ago!” said Alice. “Ben and I beat them last year.”
“And we’ll prevail again this year,” said Ben.
“Bring it on, Maguire!” said Owen.
“Let’s hit the golf course,” said Franny. “A little friendly competition never hurt anyone.”
Chapter 6
The Little Bavaria Putt Haus Mini-Golf Fun Zone turned out to be quite an adventure. The most challenging hole was a toss-up between the Giant Pretzel and the unique Wurst Windmill . . . not to be outdone by the formidable Zugspitze Challenge, which involved getting your ball to go up the side of the snow-capped mountain, where it landed in a tiny roller coaster that then carried it down the other side and popped it into the hole.
“Yes! I am the champion!” said Franny as the last ball in the group fell short of her extraordinary hole in one. Franny was awarded a small trophy which was topped with a gleaming golden sausage link, the emblem of the Putt Haus.
The whole group headed back to the vineyard for lunch, which was being served in the barn that day. Everyone went to their rooms to freshen up, and then met out in the yard, where they walked along the stone path, following the delicious aroma of food.
As they neared the barn, still chatting about everything from golf to gourmet cooking, Alice heard the distinct sound of an anguished sob. She looked up and saw Helena, standing off to the side of the barn. When Helena saw them, she motioned for them to come over to where she was.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
Alice introduced Helena to Owen, Franny, and Ben. “What’s wrong, Helena?”
“I need to know—I mean, can you please tell me about the person you saw in the vineyard yesterday? The person you saw get shot?” Her voice cracked on this last sentence and tears overflowed from her eyes again.
“Well,” said Alice, “the person was a man. Wearing a uniform like the other Emmerson staff members. He had dark hair. Fairly tall. It was hard to tell from above. I couldn’t see any details at all.”
“I, um, have a friend I’m concerned about . . . I haven’t heard from him since yesterday, and I’m worried. You’ve seen him before. He was at the wine tasting. He’s the sommelier, from Waxing Moon? Rupert Billings? I—” A small sob escaped her. “I’m afraid it was him you saw.”
“But Helena, the person I saw was clearly wearing an Emmerson uniform.” Alice thought for a moment. “I supposed if it weren’t for that, though, it could have been Rupert.”
Helena blew her nose. “I know it was him! I just know it!”
“You poor girl,” Owen said, patting Helena on the shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Is there someone we can call?” He glanced at Alice, his eyes hopeful that she could think of some way to help.
“I know! I’ll call Phillipa Rossi,” said Alice. “We bonded over books at the wine tasting. She’s the brand manager at Waxing Moon. We exchanged contact information.”
Alice took out her phone and called Phillipa, and asked her about whether the sommelier had been to work lately.
“Funny you should ask that,” said Phillipa. “We’re worried sick. He didn’t come in last night or this morning. Weekends are our busiest time. Rupert would never miss a Saturday at work without calling in.”
When Alice hung up with Phillipa, she turned somber eyes to Helena. “He hasn’t been in—not last night, and not this morning. And he hasn’t called.”
“No!” cried Helena. She looked at Alice. “Tell me again where and when you saw the shooting.”
Alice described where she thought it had happened, and when was easy, because George had known exactly what time it was when they’d started their descent in the balloon. He’d said sunset was at precisely 8:07 that day, and Alice had reported seeing the shooting about ten minutes later.
Helena nodded sadly, thanked Alice, and hurried away.
“So sad,” said Franny.
“But it looks like you really saw something happen out in the vineyard after all,” said Ben.
“And it also shows that I was right about Helena and Rupert being involved,” said Alice, raising a brow at Luke.
“Okay, I admit it,” he said. “You do know body language.”
They headed into the barn, where tables were scattered about with jars of wildflowers in their centers. They were seated and served thick sandwiches on homemade bread, crispy seasoned house potato chips, fresh fruit, iced minted tea, and sparkling wine. Dessert was a giant, gooey chocolate chip cookie for each person.
“We’re going to have to walk a few extra miles when we get home,” said Owen, patting his stomach as they left the barn.
“No kidding,” said Alice, wishing her pants had an elastic waistband.
“Hey—looks like the police are back,” said Luke. “Let’s go see what they’re up to.”
Sure enough, a couple of police cruisers were parked in the lot along with an ambulance. Detective Mullens was standing in the parking lot, holding his cell phone up in the air and looking frustrated.
“Oh, Detective Mullens, there’s no reception here,” said Alice, hurrying over to him. “You have to go to that little rise in the land over there. I can show you.”
“You,” said Mullens. “Mrs. Evans, correct?”
Alice nodded.
“Was it you who called us?” he asked.
“What? Today, you mean? No.”
Luke joined them, along with the others. “Afternoon, Detective Mullens.”
“Detective Evans,” said Mullens, nodding.
“I’d like you to meet my brother-in-law, Ben Maguire. He’s the police captain in Blue Valley. This is his wife Franny and our friend Owen James.”
Mullens nodded at each of them and they all walked toward the rise.
“So what brings you back to the vineyard?” asked Luke.
“We got an anonymous call,” said Mullens. “A woman’s voice, calling from here.” He eyed Alice.
“I assure you, Detective, I didn’t make that call,” said Alice.
When his eyes shifted to Franny, she looked surprised. “Neither did I,” she said, holding up her hands. “We’ve all been together at lunch.”
“Any new information about the shooting Alice saw?” asked Luke.
“Oh, we found something new, all right,” said Mullens, stopping at the rise and trying his phone again. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make. You’re not leaving town, are you? We may have further questions for you later.”
“Nope. We’ll be here,” said Luke. “If you don’t mind my asking, what is the new thing you found?”
Mullens didn’t answer this, but looked toward the rows of vines, where the paramedics were emerging with a stretcher . . . and on the stretcher was a covered body.
“The gunshot victim, I presume,” said Owen, giving the detective a look of disdain. “The one Alice saw that no one believed her about.”
“Where did you find the victim?” asked Ben.
Begrudgingly, Mullens said, “Back o
f the vineyard, in the woods. Someone had hurriedly buried him.”
“Him?” asked Alice. “What’s his name?”
“Don’t leave town,” Mullens said sternly, and turned away to make his call.
Alice hurried over to the parking lot, where the paramedics were loading the body into the ambulance. “Excuse me, is that Rupert Billings?” she asked.
One of the paramedics stopped and turned to Alice, a look of compassion on his face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Did you know him?”
Chapter 7
The Fabulous Bride Magazine photographer had just finished taking shots of Alice and Luke gazing at one another during their Moonlit Picnic Among the Vines.
“You can come out now,” Alice called. There was a pause, and then Owen, Franny, and Ben emerged from behind a clump of bushes.
“We just wanted to see how the photo shoot was going,” said Owen, snickering.
“You looked so in love,” said Franny with a happy sigh.
“We are so in love,” said Alice, rolling her eyes. “Now get over here. They gave us a ridiculous amount of food. You have to eat some.”
“That’s the thing about the magazine photos,” said Luke. “They want to make everything look so lavish that they order way too much food for two people. We’ve been trying to get the photographer to help us eat it, but he’s got all kinds of food allergies, so he’s been no help at all.”
“Sit,” said Alice, scooting closer to Luke to make more room on the picnic blanket.
“This looks amazing,” said Ben, helping himself to one of the wrapped roast beef sandwiches from the overflowing picnic basket.
“Try the roasted vegetable and orzo salad,” said Alice. “It’s amazing.”
“Wow, the roast chicken is out of this world,” said Franny. “That Chef Bruno knows his stuff!”
“He’s definitely got potential in the baking department,” Owen agreed, inspecting a mini cherry tart.
Everyone dug in, and Luke poured the champagne. In the quiet of the moment, they heard voices coming from nearby.