One for the Road

by Mary Ellis

  ‘Come in, Lieutenant. I’m Owen Shelby. Please, have a seat.’

  In the few moments it took Shelby to reach his upholstered chair from his position at the windows, Nick not only assessed his surroundings but the man’s appearance as well. Shelby looked to be in his late sixties, well-fed but not overweight, of medium height, with a thick shock of silver hair many men would kill for. ‘What can I do for you today?’

  ‘This morning I reviewed an incident report for vandalism in which a threat had been made,’ Nick said, watching for a reaction.

  ‘A threat? You must be mistaken, sir.’ Shelby’s face remained expressionless. ‘Some kids decided to spray paint one of my rickhouses, but that was about it. My son never should have bothered the sheriff’s department with this. I’m sure law enforcement has more important crime to worry about.’ His smile revealed abnormally white teeth. At his age, they had to be veneers or dentures.

  ‘The sheriff’s department takes all complaints seriously, Mr Shelby, especially since that particular incident was by no means isolated.’

  Owen grinned. ‘You must be referring to those potted plants. Shoot, when a facility hosts a wedding with unlimited drinks, you learn how to handle a few drunks. It’s hard enough to make sure nobody gets behind a wheel after they’ve been drinking. We sent two dozen people home in an Uber that night at our expense. Potting soil spilled on the terrace is the least of our worries.’ He held his stomach as he chuckled.

  ‘Law enforcement appreciates your diligence in keeping our roadways safe.’ Nick leaned forward in his chair. ‘But there’s been a lot of vandalism here at Founder’s Reserve – incidents that you’ve chosen not to report.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ Shelby demanded.

  ‘How I came by this information isn’t important, especially since you’re not denying it’s true.’

  The man’s smile faded. ‘You’re not from the sheriff’s department. I know most of the deputies that work for Jeff Adkins.’

  Nick pulled a card from his wallet and placed it on the desk. ‘No, sir, I’m not. I’m an investigator from the Kentucky State Police, the Louisville office.’

  ‘Adkins requested reinforcement to track down hooligans with cans of spray paint? That’s one big waste of taxpayer money!’ A flush crept up Shelby’s neck into his face.

  ‘If that was the case, I would agree with you. But I was called in to investigate the murder of Roger Clark, the master distiller at Black Creek.’

  ‘I know who Roger was,’ he snapped. ‘What I don’t know is why you’re wasting my time. My reasons for not reporting mischief by kids are my business.’

  Nick picked a piece of lint from his pant leg. ‘In a murder investigation anything out of the ordinary, anyone’s behavior that’s off the mark, becomes suspect. If a gang of punks has targeted Founder’s Reserve, yet you refuse to report the crime at the expense of an insurance claim, then I want to know why.’

  The two men glared at each other across the desk. Then Owen swiveled around in his chair. After he pressed a few buttons, several panels in the wall slid back, revealing a dozen security cameras with live feeds. Owen could watch everything happening at his distillery from the comfort of his office. Mashing, mixing, distilling, barreling, aging, bottling – every step in the process played out before their eyes. Other cameras mounted on the terrace and at various spots on the grounds kept track of what happened outdoors. There was even a camera recording who walked through the front door of corporate headquarters.

  ‘Very impressive, sir,’ Nick murmured.

  ‘I run a multi-million-dollar business, not a moonshiner’s still up in the hills. Keep watching this monitor.’ Owen pointed at one scene as he pressed a series of buttons on a remote control. At first the screen went dark. Then a grainy video played out before their eyes of two young men weed-whacking the daffodils and tulips that surrounded the entrance and lined the driveway.

  ‘This happened right before Easter this year.’

  Nick walked around the desk and leaned in closer. ‘That’s Billy and Justin Clark, nephews of Roger Clark,’ he said, after Shelby played the video a second time.

  ‘I know who they are. Those boys are also Michelle Clark’s brothers. That’s why I’m not pressing charges.’ Shelby switched the monitor back to the live feed of the bottling room.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Nick returned to the guest chair.

  ‘Her brothers are angry because of the way my son treated Michelle. And I want my son to do the right thing.’

  ‘And by the right thing, you mean …?’ Nick let the question hang in the air.

  ‘Jamie should marry that girl,’ Shelby said. ‘If he liked her well enough to sleep with her, then he should like her enough to walk down the aisle.’

  ‘That’s not really how things are anymore, sir.’ Nick couldn’t believe the words from his mouth. ‘What I mean is your attorney can draw up papers to assure proper support until the child is an adult. Even visitation can be negotiated with a contract.’

  Shelby flew into a rage. ‘Well, that’s how things are done in my family!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t you think there are enough fatherless children in the world? I won’t have my first grandson or granddaughter growing up without a name!’

  ‘I agree that a baby deserves a mother and a father, but you can’t force Jamie to marry Michelle. What if she doesn’t want to marry him?’

  ‘She does. At least she did, before he publicly humiliated her.’ Owen closed the wall of monitors behind his desk.

  ‘And you think letting Billy and Justin get away with acts of vandalism will force your son’s hand.’ Nick tried to make sense of Shelby’s logic.

  ‘I told Jamie last night that the cost of every clean-up and repair is coming out of his cash flow. He’s well aware that his bad behavior hurts business. This is still a God-fearing county we live in. So, Lieutenant Harris, have I clarified my off-the-mark behavior enough for you?’ Shelby focused the scorn formerly directed at his son on Nick.

  ‘I’d say you have. I appreciate your time today, sir.’ Nick rose and stepped away from the desk. ‘If there’s anything the sheriff’s department can do—’

  ‘If I change my mind,’ Shelby interrupted, ‘I’ll call Sheriff Adkins. Jeff can handle things in Spencer County just fine. We don’t need any big guns sticking their nose in our business.’ With that the master distiller stomped out of his office, summarily dismissing the trooper from Louisville.

  But not before Nick plucked an empty Styrofoam cup from Owen’s desktop. He headed back to the station to write his report, have the cup analyzed for DNA, and relay his conversation with Owen Shelby to the sheriff.

  Adkins listened patiently until Nick finished. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised by the way Owen feels. Don’t take this personally, Nick, but Roseville ain’t like Louisville. People are used to handling matters on their own, especially a powerful man like Shelby.’ The sheriff leaned back in his chair. ‘His son’s behavior might not raise eyebrows in Louisville, but it would in the circles Shelby runs in. Owen considers this a family matter. That’s why he prefers to take care of it without police intervention.’

  Nick swept a hand through this hair. ‘For how long, Sheriff? What if the next time Billy and Justin start a fire and innocent people lose their lives? How will it look if the public finds out your office knew what was going on and did nothing?’

  ‘The acts of vandalism took place on private property. Our hands are tied if Shelby refuses to press charges. If you have any suggestions, Lieutenant, I’m all ears.’

  Nick thought for a moment. ‘I think I’ll drive up and pay a social call on the Clarks. Maybe Will doesn’t know what his sons are up to. And even if he does, the boys might listen to some gentle persuasion.’

  Adkins blew out his breath. ‘You’d better take your friend along, Miss Curtis. Otherwise you won’t make it halfway up their driveway. If they don’t shoot you, they’ll shoot out your tires. And that’s a long walk back to town.
’

  Nick rolled his eyes. ‘So much for law and order if I have to take a private citizen just to ask a few questions.’

  ‘I’d be happy to send a few deputies, but I think you’d have more success with their newfound kinfolk.’

  ‘I’ll see if Miss Curtis is staying in town. Her partner plans to head back to Chicago as soon as we’ve finished processing his car.’ Nick shoved his report back into the file.

  ‘Let me know in the morning if you want those deputies,’ Adkins said with a smile. ‘The Clark land might be in the same county, but when you’re atop that mountain you might as well be on the moon.’

  Nick parked on the street and entered Sweet Dreams B&B through the kitchen door. He spotted just the person he wanted to see with her head in the refrigerator. ‘Good evening, Jill. Looking for something to eat?’

  ‘Hey, Nick.’ Jill withdrew several containers as she straightened up. ‘Tomorrow is trash pickup. Aunt Dot asked me to clean out the fridge of leftovers that got pushed to the back. If you’re hungry, we’ve got chicken from yesterday that’s still good.’ She dumped the remnants of the party tray and the sweet potato casserole into a trash bag.

  ‘Sounds good. When you’re done, we can take that chicken and box of wine out to the picnic table. I’ve got a favor to ask you.’

  Jill tugged down her T-shirt which had been showing a remarkable expanse of skin. ‘I’ve got some news for you too. Why don’t you take everything out now, along with Jack? I’ll finish the fridge and wash up. I don’t want to smell like pickled artichokes.’

  Nick pulled the table in the shade and set out cups, plates, napkins and the container of chicken, along with extra plates in case Michael or Mrs Clark joined them.

  When Jill arrived ten minutes later, her plaid shorts were gone, replaced by an ankle-length sundress and flip flops. ‘I tossed a spinach salad so dinner will be at least halfway healthy.’ She placed the bowl on the table.

  ‘Anyone joining us?’ Nick poured two glasses of white wine.

  ‘Nope. Aunt Dot ate a sandwich and went to bed early. She’s still tired from yesterday. And Michael is busy packing. He said he’ll eat later. You have me to yourself.’ Jill’s grin could best be described as playful.

  ‘When is Michael going back to Chicago?’ he asked.

  ‘He called a glass replacement company today. As long as you’re done with his car, they may be able to replace the windows as early as tomorrow afternoon. Michael feels helpless down here without his video camera. And the boss wants a copy of the police report to submit to insurance.’

  ‘You’re not going with him?’ Nick watched her over his wine glass.

  ‘I am not.’

  ‘Will Michael come back with new equipment?’

  ‘He says he will, but the boss has the last word.’ Jill took a swallow of wine.

  ‘But he doesn’t about you staying in Roseville without your videographer and with your story finished?’ Nick tried to phrase his question benignly.

  ‘You are correct. An excellent deduction, Trooper Harris. The boss has no say-so about that.’ Jill’s grin stretched from one corner of her mouth to the other.

  ‘In that case, I’ll ask my favor. I need directions to the Clark farm up in the hills. I want to talk to William about two of his sons.’

  ‘Even with directions, you might not find the place.’ Jill scooped spinach onto both plates and added sweet-and-sour dressing.

  ‘That’s what Sheriff Adkins thought too. So if you have no previous commitment for tomorrow, I’d like you to join me. Leg, thigh or white meat?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll take the small breast.’ Jill pointed with her fork. ‘Since I have no plans, and since I’d hate for my cousins twice-removed-through-marriage to shoot someone I’m fond of, I’ll tag along.’

  Nick divided up the chicken, then lifted his glass in salute. ‘To a successful field trip tomorrow.’ He clinked glasses with her. ‘Now I’ll fill you in on the case so far and also what I learned from Owen Shelby at Founder’s Reserve.’

  ‘I see you’re taking our partnership seriously.’ Jill took a bite of chicken and grinned.

  By the time Nick had explained the recent exploits of Billy and Justin Clark, Jill’s smile was long gone.

  TWELVE

  Thursday morning

  After her eventful day, followed by an insightful dinner with Nick Harris, Jill had not slept well. First, Michael’s car had been broken into and his expensive equipment stolen while the car had been parked on a major thoroughfare. Then Lieutenant Harris had seen video of her cousins committing felony-level vandalism at Founder’s Reserve Distillery, one of several instances according to Owen Shelby. Roseville no longer was the sleepy little town she and Michael had thought it to be.

  Justin Clark might still be a minor, but Billy certainly wasn’t. And Jill was willing to bet this wasn’t Billy’s first brush with the law. Fortunately Owen had chosen not to press charges against Michelle’s brothers. And since Nick invited her along to ask questions, she might be able to keep one angry young man out of jail and another from having a black mark on his juvenile record.

  Owen’s decision to make his son bear the cost of clean-up and repairs had touched her heart. But knowing Jamie as well as she did, Jill put little stock in Owen’s method of motivation. Men like Jamie weren’t easily pressured by an inconvenient pregnancy.

  Jill had just poured herself a second cup of coffee when Michael padded into the kitchen. Dressed in his Cubs T-shirt and baggy shorts, with his damp hair hanging in his eyes, her partner looked much younger than his twenty-seven years old.

  ‘Are we the only ones up?’ Michael reached for a mug from the cupboard.

  Jill filled his mug to the rim. ‘Nope, everyone’s up. Mrs Clark left early for an appointment with her attorney. And Nick took Jack for a walk to get some exercise.’

  ‘Has Nick made any progress on the case?’ Michael added lots of sugar to his mug.

  ‘Still no word on the security guard. Don’t you think it strange the way the Maxwells just left their house like that?’

  Michael’s mouth dropped open. ‘Just like that? They left without selling their house?’

  ‘Not everyone can afford the American dream, Mikey. The Maxwells had been renters. The sheriff’s department is trying to track them down through mutual friends, but I doubt Nick has enough evidence to arrest the guy. Looks like either Elmer Maxwell turned off the cameras for Black Creek on the night of the murder or someone else erased the tapes after Maxwell went home.’

  ‘I thought Black Creek warehouse had no cameras.’

  ‘True, but there were cameras at every exit and entrance. Seeing who came and went might be helpful.’

  Michael thumped the package of bagels down on the counter. ‘They should arrest the guy for obstruction of justice.’

  Jill laughed. ‘That’s exactly what I said. But proving obstruction is no walk in the park. I gather by your outfit you’ll be traveling today?’

  ‘Nick emailed me a copy of the police report for insurance purposes and said me and my Volvo are free to leave town. As soon as I have the windows fixed, I’m getting on the road. The glass guy is coming at eleven. Weird, no? Nick’s staying in the next room, yet we usually communicate with text messages.’

  ‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ Nick and the beagle walked through the back door. One of them was panting, while the other had an attractive sheen on his tanned face.

  Why did sweat look a lot better on men than it did on women? ‘You did,’ Jill said. ‘Michael is leaving as soon as his windows are replaced.’

  ‘It’s not too late to change your mind and come with me.’ Michael slathered both halves of his bagel with butter.

  ‘Sorry, old boy,’ said Nick. ‘Jill agreed to come with me today. We’re heading up the mountain to bust some moonshiners. Right now, Jack and I are going to take a shower.’ Nick and the beagle headed up the stairs.

  ‘You’d better be kidding, Harris,’ J
ill called after him. ‘Otherwise you and I aren’t going anywhere near the Clark homestead!’ Her voice rose to reach the second floor.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Michael demanded, aghast. ‘Why would you take a state cop to visit your family? You know either William or Billy has a still somewhere on the farm.’

  ‘Nick was joking. He wants to question my cousins about vandalism at Founder’s Reserve. I’ll make sure his focus stays front and center and he doesn’t meander into the woods. He’s not an AFT agent.’

  ‘He’s still law enforcement. You’re putting Nick in a precarious position if he spots something illegal.’

  ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t.’ Jill made a brave statement, yet had no idea how she could ensure anything.

  ‘This is a bad idea.’ Michael swallowed the rest of his coffee.

  ‘It was Nick’s idea. He asked for my help. He’s not interested in illegal bourbon production.’

  ‘One of these days you’ll learn, Curtis. You can’t play both sides against the middle.’ Michael picked up his breakfast and carried it to the front porch.

  ‘I want Roger Clark’s killer caught,’ she called after him, something she’d been doing a lot lately. ‘That’s whose side I’m on!’

  When the screen door slammed, Jill wasn’t sure whether Michael had heard her or not. That was the thing about her partner: he had the uncanny ability to see through every one of her less-than-brilliant plans.

  Jill packed sandwiches, several bottles of water, and a few pieces of fruit into a soft-sided cooler. Then she decided to clean Aunt Dot’s kitchen while she waited. She had just finished mopping the floor when Nick and the dog reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. With his tail wagging, Jack skidded across the wet tiles.

  ‘A woman’s work …’ Jill muttered as she turned to assess Nick’s appearance. ‘Jeans and sneakers – a good choice. Your usual suit, tie, and shoulder holster won’t do for a visit to the Clarks. May I assume you’ll be unarmed during our trip?’

  ‘You may not.’ Nick’s gray eyes locked with hers. ‘No professional lawman would venture into unknown territory without his weapon.’