by J. C. Eaton
“Holy cow. Arrested, huh? Geez, of all things.”
“So you and Don will come?”
“Sure. No problem. Remind me not to get on any historical society boards.”
• • •
Charlie had been unusually gassy all day and I attributed that to my being slack with the extra treats I doled out. Treats like tidbits of honey ham and Swiss cheese. Not wanting to take a chance he’d ruin our pizza with his gastro overtures, I shut him in my bedroom and prayed for the best. At least it was summer and I could open all the windows and air it out if necessary.
The traditional dough pizzas were weighted down with sausage, pepperoni, meatballs, olives, mushrooms, green peppers and enough mozzarella cheese to sink a ship. I piled napkins on the table and opted for the good Chinet paper plates because I had no intention of doing dishes. I also bought a six-pack of Coors and one of O’Doul’s since nothing tasted quite as good as a beer with pizza. Sacrilegious according to the WOW ladies, but they weren’t here.
“This is terrible,” Don said. “Not the pizza. That’s fantastic.” He bit off the end of his slice and all but swallowed it whole. “Here we are enjoying Cam’s best while Alex is probably eating a white bread sandwich with a slice of cheap bologna.”
I watched as Theo wiped the sides of his mouth and took another slice. “What did Agnes do? What happened exactly?” he asked.
I told them about the eyewitness from Vance’s amateur archeologist crew and how Agnes brought him to the Geneva police station with some cock-and-bull story—my opinion—about him seeing Alex leave Vance’s tent in the middle of the night.
Don broke off a slice from the box closest to him and put it on his plate. “That witch! I wonder how much she paid him. Or maybe she held something over his head to get him to lie like that.”
I took a giant gulp of O’Doul’s and set the bottle down carefully so as not to knock it over on the pizza boxes. “Cammy’s going to ask her aunts at Rosinetti’s if they’ve heard any scuttlebutt about Agnes, but until I find out, I need to focus my attention elsewhere. That’s why I told Theo I needed your help. It’s not exactly kosher.”
“Might as well come right out and say it. It’s against the law. Whatever little scheme you’ve got planned.”
I winced. “Not quite a scheme. More like a little expedition.”
“I don’t know what’s going to give me more indigestion, the three pieces of pizza I ate or what you’re about to propose.”
“Like I told Theo, I’m convinced Vance’s Karmann Ghia is stashed in that barn behind Glen Foreign Motors. And if that’s the case, then it was stolen the night he was killed and most likely the motive for the murder. If I can prove it, maybe it would exonerate Alex.”
Don and Theo looked at each other for what seemed to be a painfully long minute. Then Don spoke. “Let me guess. You want us to drive with you to Glen Foreign Motors once they’ve closed for the day and somehow break into that barn to see what’s behind door number three. Am I close?”
“More or less. Not break in. Climb in. From the hayloft window around back. Think of it as a wonderful opportunity to test out your new fold-up-telescoping comfort ladder.”
“It’s your worst idea yet,” Don said, “but I have to admit, it does make sense. But if you think for one second I’m going to be the one on that ladder, you can forget it. Heights and I don’t get along.”
I smiled. “The loft isn’t that high off the ground. I looked. I’ll be able to do it unless of course Theo wants to test out that ladder first.” I elbowed Theo and waited for his response. It was two words—“Ladies first.”
Don moaned. “Guess it’s decided, huh? Might as well get this nightmare over with sooner than later. Tomorrow after work? If we leave at six, we can be there by seven. Plenty light outside. If my memory serves me right, Glen Foreign Motors is on that strip of Route 14 with some ice cream stands and a convenience store. If we throw a beach towel over the ladder, I can drop you two off near the car dealership and wait at one of the ice cream stands. I haven’t had a banana split in ages.”
“See,” I said to Theo. “There’s a silver lining in all of this, after all. Don gets a banana split and we get―”
“To deal with cobwebs, mice, and whatever else is in that barn.”
“Face it. The plan will work. This time of year lots of tourists are coming back from the lake, so having a beach towel hanging over something won’t look suspicious. People carry coolers, fold-up chairs, you name it.”
Don rubbed the side of his neck and reached for another slice of pizza. “And telescoping ladders for break-ins. Yep, like I said, worst idea ever.”
I stood, walked behind him, and gave him a hug. “That’s for Alex.”
Chapter 27
I could hardly concentrate on anything the next day, knowing that Don, Theo, and I were so close to catching Vance’s real killer. No word from Zenora when I got into the tasting room around eleven, but Jerome kept his word.
At a little before noon, when I had left the bistro, having consumed a giant turkey and tomato panini, he was standing by the wine racks looking every bit the tourist. “The lady at the cash register said you’d be right back. I figured I’d check out the wines while I waited.”
“Come on, let’s talk in my office.”
If Glenda, Sam, Roger, or Cammy noticed our interaction, they didn’t let on. All of them appeared to be preoccupied with the customers at their tasting tables. I ushered Jerome into the office and motioned for him to grab a chair. Then I pulled mine from behind the desk and sat directly opposite him.
“Let’s not waste each other’s time. And before this goes any further, I feel I should tell you that the Yates County sheriff’s deputy assigned to the Wexler case is a good friend of mine. Then I crossed my middle finger over my index finger and held it up. “In fact, we’re like this.”
I had to keep myself from bursting out laughing, so I bit my inner cheek and quickly wiped away the tear that had formed in my right eye. “What do you know about Vance’s car, because it sure hit a nerve back on that dock.”
“My buddy and I were paid to keep our mouths shut, that’s all. And it won’t do you any good to ask who paid us because we don’t know. We took the cash and that’s all there is to it.”
I leaned back in my chair and stretched. “Fine. You can be a bit more up-front with me or I’ll have no choice but to call my friend. Did I mention he’s the deputy working the case?”
“Yeah. You mentioned it. Look, we got to Kashong Point that Saturday morning while it was still dark out. Best time to get set up for fishing. Once my buddy parked his truck, we grabbed our gear and went straight for the dock. That’s when this screaming yellow car comes out from nowhere and nearly runs us over. My buddy thinks fast and whips out his phone. Snaps a photo of the license plate and tucks the phone back in his pocket. Someone must have seen him because shortly afterward, this guy comes up to the dock, shows us four fifty-dollar bills, and tells us he’ll give us triple that amount if we keep our mouths shut about the car incident. We figured he was concerned we’d turn the driver in for reckless driving at a community recreation area. Hefty fines for that sort of thing, especially if the driver’s been ticketed before.”
“Go on,” I said.
“Then he tells us he knows about the photo and insists we hand him the phone to delete the pic or the deal’s off. Heck, it was a no-brainer. No one got hurt and we’d stand to pick up some fast dough.”
“And that’s it?” I glared at him and didn’t make a move.
“Oh, and there was one more thing. He told us if anyone came snooping around to ask about the car, we were to blow them off.”
“Is that new terminology for pushing them off a deck?”
“Hey, I said I was sorry. It was an accident. So, are we good?”
“Not yet. Who was the man who approached you?”
“Damned if I know. He wasn’t here for fishing, that much I can tell you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You don’t show up to go fishing when you’re wearing tailored pants and a collared shirt.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Older guy. Heavyset. Early fifties maybe. It was still fairly dark out so I didn’t take that good of a look.”
“And your friend?”
Jerome laughed. “He was too busy counting money.”
I wasn’t sure I bought the whole story. Shoving someone off a dock was an awfully strong reaction for blowing them off. I had a nagging feeling Jerome wasn’t telling me everything, or maybe he was spinning a fish story of his own. Still, there wasn’t much I could do about it.
“If I find out you haven’t been honest with me, I’ll go ahead with my original plan and have a little conversation with that deputy friend of mine.”
“What do you want me to do? Pinky swear on it?”
“Nah. I’ve got one better. What’s your cell phone number?”
“Huh?”
“Your number. In case I need to call you.”
As he rattled out the numbers, I added the number to my contacts list. Then I placed the call. Sure enough, his phone rang.
“You don’t need to answer,” I said. “I guess we’re good. For now.”
He stood and walked to the door. “You weren’t kidding about being one of the witches.”
I followed him out the door and watched as he headed toward a black Dodge Ram. Most likely I had hit a dead end, but something told me that might not be the case.
The rest of the day moved at a snail’s pace. I fiddled around the winery moving from the tasting room to the storeroom, where I helped Cammy inventory the number of T-shirts and sweatshirts we still had.
“The fall is right around the corner,” she said, “and we really should stock up on our holiday-themed shirts. Want to add a new color? The fuchsia’s going strong and the green and orange are always good sellers, but I’m thinking black with mixed motifs.”
“I’m game. Black’s always in style. What were you thinking for motifs?”
“You know, we could capitalize on this whole curse thing and have the words Beware the Partridge’s Eye written in Old English script on the back of the shirt with a small rendering of two witches holding a bottle of rosé on the front.”
“That could kill the sale of our rosé.”
Cammy shook her head. “At this point, I think it’ll do quite the opposite. We’ve got the curse. We might as well flaunt it.”
“Order two dozen shirts and if they sell, we can triple the order.”
“Got it. By the way, you haven’t mentioned that barn break-in plan of yours all morning. I take it you came to your senses and decided to forget it.”
“Um, actually, I didn’t want to mention it because I knew you really objected to it, but I got Theo and Don to go along with it.”
“Don? You got Don to go along with it? What did you do, spike his drink?”
“I appealed to his sense of chivalry. He doesn’t want to see Alex get railroaded for a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Dare I ask when this clandestine escapade is going to take place?”
“Tonight. After work.”
“I figured the encounter with Jerome this morning didn’t go all that well or you wouldn’t be going full speed ahead tonight. I meant to ask you about it earlier but I was mired under with customers. Thank goodness Sam agreed to work an extra afternoon.”
“The encounter, which is a good way to put it, went nowhere. Jerome claims he and his buddy were paid off by someone to keep mum about seeing Vance’s Karmann Ghia tear out of Kashong Point at dawn.”
“And you don’t believe him?”
“Not for a minute. But if Theo, Don, and I uncover Vance’s car in that barn, it won’t matter. Grand theft auto is all the proof we need for a motive.”
“And if the car’s not there?”
“I got Jerome to give me his cell phone number. Plus, I’ve got his mother’s license plate number.”
“My, my. Guess that Nancy Drew handbook is paying off after all.”
“Ugh. Whatever you do, don’t tell Lizzie. It’s like bat radar with her. One mention of Nancy Drew and I’ll never escape. Worse than the time Roger launched into one of his infamous French and Indian War stories and told everyone about the failed attempt of then Lieutenant Colonel George Washington when he tried to get the French out of the Ohio River Valley. Of course, that was at least twenty-five years before the Revolutionary War, when the father of our country was leading the British Colonial forces.”
Cammy looked stunned.
“What? You must know this by heart now, too.”
“I know the French and Indian War is kind of a passion with Roger, but I let it wash over me when he speaks. The brain can’t handle all that information at once. It’s like a food tray from a cafeteria. You can only pile on so much before something falls off. Oh, and speaking of information, last night I asked my aunts about Agnes Merryweather. They said they’d see what they could dig up. Especially my aunt Louisa. She’s into more gossip than a Twitter feed.”
“Oh, my gosh. Feed! I don’t remember if I fed Charlie when I left the house. That dog really goes through his kibble. I’d better hightail it out of here and check.”
“No problem. At least you’re not the one responsible for feeding Alvin. That goat would bust down his fence if his supply got low.”
“Or if Glenda decided to hold another séance on the hill.”
I handed Cammy the small pad I used to tally the number of T-shirts I counted and headed for the door.
“Be careful tonight, okay? At the first sign of trouble, make a run for it.”
“There won’t be any trouble.”
Hmm, I wonder if Lieutenant Colonel George Washington said that once, too.
Chapter 28
I pulled my Toyota to the front of the Grey Egret at five minutes to six, having loaded the ladder and the beach towel in my trunk a few minutes earlier. Don had left them for me by the side of his porch behind some bushes. I tapped my fingers on the dashboard and took a breath. Seconds later, Don and Theo came out. Then Theo went back inside and returned a minute or so later.
“I wanted to remind our tasting room staff to double-check the locks and the windows when they’re done cleaning up,” he said, taking the seat directly behind me while Don rode shotgun. “I brought a pocket flashlight with me just in case,” he continued. “Much easier than fumbling around with my cell phone light.”
Don cleared his throat and glanced back at the Grey Egret as I exited their parking lot. “The two of you better not make this an all-night excursion. In and out. That’s it. By the way, I googled the ice cream places and it’s the Tasty Tease for me. They’ve got giant banana splits and something called the Brain Freeze. Norrie can pull in there. It’s only a few yards from the car dealership and on the same side of the road.”
“I’d ask you to save us some,” I said, “but it will be all melty by the time we’re done. Theo and I can always get our ice cream fix at another stand closer to Penn Yan. Once we’re done snooping we should get out of the vicinity as soon as possible.”
Don chuckled. “Amen to that.”
Thankfully it was a warm, quiet evening with no looming threats of summer thunderstorms. The road traffic wasn’t bad either since it was a weekday and well after five, when most folks headed home from work. Not having school buses all over the place with sports teams was an added boon.
I always liked Route 14 as it hugged Seneca Lake, offering commanding views of vineyards, rolling hills, and the occasional motorboats. But taking in the scenery was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to get this surveillance job over with as fast as possible. To say I was edgy would be an understatement. To make matters worse, Theo kept repeating “the plan” with Don muttering “This better work” every few minutes. When the Tasty Tease finally came into view, I could have kissed the earth.
The building itself wa
s hard to miss. Bright green with a giant cutout of an ice cream cone on the top of the roof. It was one of those seasonal places that appeared to have indoor seating as well as the usual rectangular tables and benches on its front porch. In addition, there were two round tables with green and white umbrellas off to the left.
There was a terrific parking spot shaded by some old maple trees near the round tables and I grabbed it right away.
“Eat slowly,” Theo said to Don. He opened the trunk and pulled out the ladder, quickly covering it with the large yellow, orange, and green beach blanket. “And keep your phone on in case we have to call you.”
“Oh, brother. Look, if you’re having second thoughts, we can all enjoy a giant sundae or banana split and drive home.”
“We’re not,” I said. I yanked Theo’s arm and the two of us walked the few yards down the road toward the auto dealership as if we were returning from a swim in the lake. Across the road, a teenage boy with a soaking wet black Lab headed in the opposite direction. A red Frisbee hung from the dog’s mouth.
“See,” I said. “Lots of lake folk on this road. Take your time. I think we’re walking too fast.”
“If we walk any slower, we’ll be stalled on the road. Come on, Glen Foreign Motors is right over there.”
I turned my head just to be sure we weren’t being followed or watched. “Okay. Now we can walk fast. The barn’s right behind the building. Follow the driveway. Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh what?” Theo rested the ladder on the ground and looked around. “What’s the problem?”
“You can see where I was before. In the spots where those high weeds got trampled. I had to look in the windows.”
“I doubt anyone will notice. Too bad we can’t take the same path. The loft window is around back, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then let’s not waste time. We’ve got about an hour and forty minutes of daylight left.”
With that, Theo moved through the weeds as if he was stomping grapes. I squelched a giggle and followed him. Next thing I knew, he removed the beach blanket, folded it and tucked it under his arm. Then he unlatched the ladder’s locking mechanism and telescoped the thing until the top of it rested against the bottom of the loft window.