Death, Dismay and Rosé

by J. C. Eaton

  “Well, with a search warrant and all, what did you expect? They’re petrified I might be arrested. Although for your information, Theo and I―” And then I stopped. Maybe he didn’t know about the unorthodox entry into the Geneva Historical Society.

  “What were you saying about you and Mr. Buchman?”

  “Um, only that we were concerned about anything that would keep visitors away from our wineries. You know, like the witches’ curse.”

  “Nice try, Miss Ellington. I happen to know for a fact that you and Mr. Buchman are in possession of some delicate information that the joint forensic analysis team was unable to retrieve. And if you must know, I have a second search warrant in my possession.”

  Yippee. A second search warrant.

  “Delicate information? What delicate information?”

  “Whatever it was you were able to secure from Mr. Wexler’s computer during your little spy mission on Saturday. You’re lucky the grainy footage from Geneva Historical Society’s surveillance system is too blurry for a positive ID.”

  “Uh, well . . .”

  “Before you start denying it was you, let me point out that I’m quite familiar with your mannerisms by now, including that hair tossing habit of yours. Not to mention Mr. Buchman’s unique way of lumbering around a room. The Geneva police might not have a clue who the culprits were, but as soon as they forwarded the footage to my office, I knew immediately it was the two of you.”

  Security footage. Geneva police. How could I have been so stupid? Of course they would be accessing Vance’s office. Duh!

  “It’s not what you think. Oh, what the hell. It’s exactly what you think. Theo and I couldn’t very well sit back and do nothing when a friend of ours is turning out to be the number-one suspect.”

  “So you broke into Mr. Wexler’s office to see if there was anything on his computer that would point to another suspect?”

  I nodded. “His computer, his office files, and even his Facebook page, although I did that at home and there’s no crime in that.”

  “You do realize that trained professionals, and I emphasize the word trained, know exactly how to extract and analyze that type of information.”

  “Well, they’re not exactly extracting and analyzing that information too well or you wouldn’t be in my office with a search warrant.”

  Deputy Hickman rubbed the back of his neck and groaned.

  “Hair tossing and lumbering around don’t make for a positive identification,” I said. “Although I think Theo would find that description of him somewhat objectionable. And if you must know, we can always deny it was us.”

  “Miss Ellington, I don’t know how else to put this. We’re on the same page. Although it’s a professional matter for my office, and apparently a personal one for you and your friends. I have no intention of turning you over to the Geneva police for breaking and entering, but if this investigation is going to get off the ground, it would certainly behoove you to share what you’ve found with us.”

  “I, um . . .”

  “Look, the combined forensic analysis teams from both counties will undoubtedly get into that computer, but why waste valuable time?”

  “Does this mean we’re working together?”

  “Good heavens, no! It means you won’t get arrested.”

  I did a mental eye roll while considering my options. Not that there was anything to consider. “Okay. The password is Karmann Ghia. And all we found were notes Vance, I mean Mr. Wexler, had about people who ticked him off. Which was pretty much everyone. Mostly the folks who had requests for architectural changes to their historical properties. If you want, I can get you the list. And his notes.”

  “Miss Ellington, please don’t tell me you were planning to contact those people because, in addition to breaking and entering, that would be considered interfering with a crime investigation.”

  I shrugged while he continued to expound on why I needed to mind my own business. When he paused to catch a breath, I looked directly at him. “You think Vance Wexler was murdered, don’t you? Even though the first round at the coroner’s office didn’t confirm that.”

  “That’s why those reports are called preliminary. Once we get the toxicology report, we can further substantiate the initial findings.”

  “Then why continue to press Alex Bollinger?”

  “Because his field research team has access to all sorts of toxins in their labs. It may have appeared as if Mr. Wexler succumbed to that idiotic smothering curse, but I guarantee, if he didn’t die from a preexisting medical condition, he died at someone’s hand and Dr. Bollinger had a darned good motive.”

  Chapter 17

  When Deputy Hickman left my office I felt as if someone had punched me in the gut. I immediately sent Bradley another text, Forget first text. False alarm. Then I phoned Theo to let him know he was off the hook and told him I was on my way over to Kashong Point to see if I could find out anything about Vance’s car.

  “After Grizzly Gary told you to back off?”

  “He told me not to contact any of the people who were on those notes of Vance’s. He didn’t make any mention of campers at Kashong Point.”

  “Just watch your back while you’re down there. For all any of us know, one of those campers could have been responsible for Vance’s death.”

  “I’m only going to inquire about the car. How dangerous can that be?”

  From now on, I will never, under any circumstance, use a retort like, “How dangerous can that be?” because, as Glenda would put it, “The life forces have a way of answering your question,” and in this case, it wasn’t the answer I was looking for.

  Cammy immediately tackled me once Lizzie gave the all-clear that Deputy Hickman left the winery. “What was he looking for? What did he find? What did you tell him?”

  “The good news is no one has to post bail money, but I did have to offer up the password Theo and I figured out for Vance’s computer. It was a trade-off—the password in exchange for not getting arrested. You know, breaking and entering into the Geneva Historical Society on Saturday. Go figure the Geneva police would actually be reviewing surveillance footage from Vance’s office. Well, I hope they were satisfied because―Oh, my gosh! The other board members were in there as well. I wonder if someone’s paying Agnes, Mildred, and Curtis a visit. Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to grab a sandwich from the bistro and take off for Kashong Point.”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  “If it will make you feel any better, my phone has GPS tracking. If I’m not back here before we close, use it.”

  “Norrie, I have no idea how to do that. Don’t you need special software or something?”

  “Hmm, come to think of it, you’re probably right. If I’m not back here, call the sheriff’s office. Oh, and Theo, too. And Bradley.”

  “Just get back here.”

  I devoured a turkey and bacon on rye, washed it down with a Coke and took off for Kashong Point. Not that I had given it much thought earlier in the day, but I was glad I had put on a pair of faded and partially ripped jeans as well as my sneakers instead of sandals. Walking along the beach at Kashong Point with opened-toed shoes was an invitation for cuts and bruises thanks to all of the sharp rocks and glass debris that seem to wind up onshore. Unlike ocean beaches, where soft sand is the norm, lakeside beaches tend to be rocky, marshy, or a combination of both.

  It surprised me that Deputy Hickman made no mention about Vance’s car, but then again, it wasn’t as if he was going to share any part of the official investigation with me. I figured I’d find out one way or another while I did my own bit of detective work.

  Kashong Point had its usual share of cars lined up along the circular drive and the parking lot adjacent to the conservation area. A lineup of people with their fishing rods extended into the lake was the first thing that caught my eye as I grabbed the nearest parking spot. In the distance, I could see the area that the entomology department had commandeered for their Swedish fl
y crane or whatever-it-was study. The only thing missing were those amateur artifact hunters who most likely jumped ship once their captain was found dead.

  A few people were sunbathing along the lakeshore while others were either walking their dogs, throwing sticks or balls for their dogs, or yelling at their dogs. In retrospect, I should have brought Charlie along, but with my luck he’d probably find some disgusting dead fish to roll around in.

  With so many people all over the place, it was tough to figure out where to begin. I had no idea who might have been here the night before Vance was found dead, but I couldn’t afford to stand around and waste time. I made a beeline for an older man who was putting bait on the end of his fishing pole. His scraggly beard and five o’clock shadow made me wonder if he’d been camping for a few days.

  “Pardon me,” I said, “do you remember seeing a bright yellow Karmann Ghia parked around here last weekend?”

  “Sorry. Got here at five this morning. You may want to ask the folks who’ve got that yurt a few yards down. That’s where I got my bait. Nice healthy earthworms. Here, see for yourself.”

  He held up a plump worm that moved slightly.

  “Yep. Well fed. Um, thanks. I’ll check it out.”

  I walked to where some of the tents and lean-tos were pitched and spied the yurt immediately. It was the only one of its kind. A middle-aged woman was grilling some sort of fish on a small Weber and waved when I approached.

  “If you’re looking to buy bait, we already sold out. Got to get here first thing in the morning. The bait and tackle shops on the lake will have plenty but they’ll charge you an arm and a leg.”

  “Uh, no. Thanks. I’m hoping you can help me. Someone said you’ve been here for a few days.”

  She grabbed a pair of tongs and flipped the filets. “Since the Tuesday before last. My husband and I work in Elmira and we always spend our summer vacation camping here. What is it you need?”

  “Did you happen to see anyone drive off in a bright yellow Karmann Ghia the morning when a man’s body was discovered?”

  “Last Saturday?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She shook her head. “Saw that car before Saturday, but come to think of it, not after. Why? Was it stolen?” Then she stopped and furrowed her brow. “Don’t tell me it belonged to the dead man. I had a hunch about that. Even told my husband, Darryl, but he said to mind my own beeswax before we get tangled up in this. Bad enough we lost good fishing time while those deputies questioned the daylights out of everyone.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know if anyone else saw anything, would you?”

  “That happened last weekend. Most of the folks who were here are long gone. They only camp for the weekend. Not many of us diehards are left. Hmm, let me think for a minute.”

  She flipped the fish again and removed two of them from the grill. “You might want to talk to those two hee-haws way over by the old dock. Can’t miss ’em. They’re the only ones there.”

  “Hee-haws?”

  “The two thirty-somethings who make so much noise it would scare away a herd of buffalo, let alone the fish. They’ve been showing up every day before dawn and leave when it gets too dark to fish. Seen them a few times on my way to the john before daybreak.”

  I thanked her and started for the dock. That’s when she called me back. “I wouldn’t tell them too much if I were you. Something about those two is off but I can’t pinpoint it.”

  Wonderful. Just what I need. Unstable people.

  The thirty-somethings also had that lakeside five o’clock shadow. Really noticeable since they both had dark hair. Yep. Nothing spells vacation like putting away your razor for a while and covering most of your hair with generic baseball caps.

  “Excuse me, do either of you recall seeing anyone drive off in a bright yellow Karmann Ghia last Friday night? Or early Saturday morning?”

  “What’s it to you?” the taller one asked. He had just stashed a cell phone in his pocket and gave me a nasty look.

  “The car belongs to a friend of mine. It’s missing.”

  “Tell your friend to call the sheriff,” the shorter one said.

  I read somewhere that the best part of getting away with a lie was to look the person directly in the eye. I took a step closer and glared at him. “She already did that.”

  He stared back. “Then why isn’t she here checking?”

  “She’s at work. Look, I understand the two of you have been regular fixtures around here so you must know something. You wouldn’t want me to―”

  “Hey, we don’t know anything. Nice talking to you. I’d watch it if I were you. These docks can get awfully slippery.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  I turned and barely walked two or three steps when I felt something cut me on the back of my ankle. The second I lifted my foot I realized it was a hook from a fishing line. I bent down to remove it, and that was the second someone slammed my back with such force that I lost my balance and fell chest-first from the dock into the waist-deep murky water. Not quite a belly flop but close enough to sting me. At least it was summer and the water temperature couldn’t have been lower than a nice seventy degrees. Of course, at the deeper levels it would have been closer to the high thirties. And while I remembered many pleasant swims in this lake while growing up, today wasn’t one of them.

  Above me, I could hear the thud of footsteps as my assailants thundered off the dock and most likely into their cars for a fast getaway. My first reaction was to reach for my cell phone and pray it hadn’t been in the water long enough to ruin it. That’s when I remembered I had left it locked in my glove compartment.

  I was soaking wet, and if that wasn’t bad enough, bits of dirt and dead leaves adhered to every part of my skin and clothing. I was about to head back to where that yurt was when I thought of something. What if that fish-grilling woman tipped these guys off? Or maybe even the earthworm fisherman. I did, after all, see the tall thirty-something put his cell phone in a pocket when I approached him.

  There was only one person at Kashong Point I could trust and he was busy categorizing crane flies. Then again, Alex Bollinger owed me one. I put my neck out for him. The least he could do was find me some dry clothes.

  Chapter 18

  “Yikes! Norrie! What happened? Did you fall out of a boat or what?”

  Alex was leaning over what looked like a makeshift drafting table that had small jars of insects—what else?—on it. I had hoofed it all the way from the touristy area at Kashong Point to the conservation area where his team was still working. A few students stopped what they were doing and rushed over to me.

  Everyone spoke at once. Questions. Answers. Directives. You name it.

  “Do you want a towel?” “Go get her a towel from the tent.”

  “We’ve got blankets. Hold on.”

  “Did your boat capsize?”

  “Were you kayaking?” “Will someone get her a damn towel?”

  Finally, a girl with tight blond curls and wire-rimmed glasses handed me a dish towel. “Um, you may want to wipe your face. It’s got slimy dirt on it.”

  Gee, you think?

  “Forget the face dirt,” I said. “Are there any bugs in my hair?”

  She shook her head just as another student handed me a larger towel.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Alex asked. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine. Just wet. At least it’s summer. Um, is there someplace we can speak privately?”

  Alex turned to his students and motioned for them to get back to their work. Then he turned to me. “Follow me. I’ve got some dry clothes in the tent if you don’t mind wearing New York State Agricultural Experiment Station–issue sweatshirts and sweatpants.”

  “Thanks.”

  On the way to the tent I told him my reason for dropping by Kashong Point and how I must have hit a nerve with those two guys on the dock.

  “You think they might have something to do with Vance’s death?” h
e asked.

  “Uh-huh. That Karmann Ghia of his didn’t disappear on its own. I’m thinking whoever took it might be the person who made sure Vance wasn’t about to wake up. I’m surprised the deputies aren’t all over it, but then again, it’s not as if Deputy Hickman is about to share any information with me.”

  Alex gave me a pat on my shoulder as we approached the tent. “Norrie, I appreciate you sticking your neck out for me, but we have no idea who’s behind this. Up until this minute, I was banking on the full autopsy to reveal a medical issue. But given what happened to you, I tend to agree that those guys might very well have killed Vance in order to steal his car. Maybe they didn’t mean to kill him, just drug him, and something went wrong. Guess we won’t know that until the toxicology report is in. Meanwhile, I’m still persona numero uno as far as the authorities are concerned, and you could be putting yourself in danger poking around here.”

  “What gets me is why go to all that trouble to steal a Karmann Ghia? True, it’s kind of a classic sixties car, but I looked them up and they’re not worth much more that fifteen or twenty grand, and that’s only if they’re in pristine condition.”

  “People steal stuff for all sorts of reasons. I read somewhere about someone breaking into a house and all they took was the owner’s boxer shorts.”

  “Ew.”

  “You know, like it or not, what they did falls into the category of assault. You really should call the sheriff’s office and report it.”

  “Um, not a good idea. I was told explicitly by Deputy Hickman to stay out of his investigation and I kind of agreed that I wouldn’t contact any of the people Vance had made reference to in his notes.”

  “His notes? I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I guess Godfrey didn’t tell you, huh?”

  “Tell me what? I’ve been tethered to the lake for close to a week.”

  “Arrgh. Let me change my clothes and I’ll fill you in.”

  Once inside the tent, Alex handed me the clothes and walked out. “I’ll wait for you by that picnic table over there.”

  “I really appreciate the dry clothes,” I said once I had changed. “Nice and comfy. I may even get used to them.”