Sauvigone for Good

by J. C. Eaton

  “Can’t you just snap a photo of it with your phone and email me?”

  “I want to be absolutely certain. A photo won’t do. Please?”

  “One donut? You’re going to make me drive out in the cold for one donut?”

  “Fine. Two. What do you say?”

  “Twenty-five minutes. And you’ll need to buy me coffee, too.”

  “You’re the best. See you in twenty-five minutes.”

  “Okay, everyone,” I said when my call to Godfrey ended. “You all heard that. I’m on my way to get an official answer.”

  “Do you want any of us to go with you?” Stephanie asked. “It’s not a problem for me. My husband can put the boys to bed instead of having a love affair with the remote.”

  “Nah. I’m fine. The roads are clear and it’s not late. But how are we going to get Allete back in the game tomorrow?”

  “We’ll stay here and figure something out,” Don said. “Is that okay, Rosalee?”

  “Fine with me. I’m not going anywhere, and the Corgis don’t look as if they’re in a hurry to leave the house either.”

  I stood and put my coffee cup in the sink. “I’ll call Theo’s cell since it’s on speed dial and let you know what I find out. Meanwhile, he and Don can fill you in about Earvin’s disappearing act today and the tussle he had in our parking lot.”

  Madeline helped herself to another cookie and turned to face me. “You mean there were more shenanigans going on?”

  I chuckled. “Interesting choice of words.”

  Although the usual cars were parked in front of Wegmans, Hamilton Street in Geneva was practically deserted when I got to Dunkin’ Donuts. I figured the college kids were either studying or hanging out at the bars and the locals weren’t about to leave their warm houses for a late-night java stop.

  Godfrey was sitting by the window and he had a cup of coffee in his hand. There was also another one on the table. I watched as he brushed a few strands of his wispy light brown hair from his face. I had to admit, there was something endearing about his receding hairline and cherubic face.

  “Hey,” he said as I approached the table, “it’s cold and I figured you could use a hot coffee right away.”

  I smiled and took a sip. “What will it be? Jelly? Frosted? Glazed?”

  “Surprise me but don’t make it glazed.”

  I came back to the table with two cream-filled donuts and one maple frosted.

  Godfrey grabbed the maple one and motioned for me to sit. “Okay. Where’s this man-eating spider that made me leave the comforts of home?”

  “It’s in my bag. Hold on a second.”

  I sat down, looked around to make sure no one was watching us, and then placed the jar in front of him. Seconds later, he erupted in gales of laughter. So hard, in fact, that, at one point, I thought he’d choke.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “You’re looking at the Parasteatoda tepidariorum, better known as the American House Spider. Perfectly harmless. These poor guys have horrible vision and have been known to build new webs if they can’t find their way back to their original one.”

  “That’s it? A benign insect?”

  Godfrey picked up the jar and took a closer look. “Spider. Not insect. I can’t believe someone went into hysterics over this little guy. I suppose you’ll want me to relocate him.”

  Or dump him and step on him. Either or. “That would be great. Oh my gosh. Give me thirty seconds to shoot off a text to Theo to tell him the spider wasn’t poisonous.”

  “No problem.”

  Godfrey munched on his second donut while I gave the all-clear to Theo.

  “Okay. I’m done,” I said to Godfrey. “With that part of the mess anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ugh. It’s a long story. Next cup of coffee is definitely on me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere and this place doesn’t close for at least an hour.”

  I took a large swallow from my coffee cup and, beginning with that unpleasant visit from Deputy Hickman informing me that Jules Leurant’s body was found dead in the snow, I went on to explain everything that had happened in the past week.

  When I finished, Godfrey took my wrist and gave it a squeeze. “No wonder you were such a wreck over the spider incident. That, on top of the chocolate fiasco at Stephanie’s place and your guy disappearing without a word only to come back looking as if he’d been in a street brawl.”

  “It’s not these little incidents by themselves. It’s what they all may have in common.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think whoever killed Jules may be sending a not-so-subtle message to the others. Earvin Roels little ‘street brawl’ involved an auburn-haired lady. Probably the same one who broke up the altercation at Gable Hill Winery. If you must know, I did some snooping at Geneva on the Lake and well, um, I kind of went through the trash belonging to a female guest from Belgium.”

  “Totally lost but go on.”

  “Belgium. That’s where Jules is, I mean was, from. How many international guests from Belgium are going to be staying at the same hotel as the chocolatiers? I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but the sheriff’s office wouldn’t listen.”

  “I really hate to ask this, but how did you know there was someone from Belgium staying at the hotel?”

  “From a friend of Cammy’s who works in reservations, but before you get all hot and bothered over it, Cammy’s friend only told us the guest had a passport from Belgium. She wouldn’t give us any more info or she’d lose her job.”

  “Good for her.”

  “So, like I said, I went through the trash by the woman’s door and found a boarding pass. It was made out to Hortensia Vermeulen.”

  “Hortensia Vermeulen?”

  “Dear God! Don’t tell me you know who that is.”

  “Nooo, but I’ve seen that name before. At least I think I’ve come across that name before. Darn it. I get so much paper mail and email from Cornell that I sometimes glaze over stuff unless it pertains to me directly.”

  Godfrey tapped his fingers on the table for a second and shook his head. “It’ll come to me. Probably at three in the morning. Well, it’s getting late, what do you say we call it a night and you can rest easy that the chocolatier from France has nothing to worry about from the itsy-bitsy spider.”

  “She might not have anything to worry about, but we do. She refuses to give her demonstrations tomorrow. Listen, if we can convince her that the spider was harmless and most likely it was in the wrong place and not the result of someone trying to scare her, maybe we can get her to reconsider.”

  “We? What’s with the ‘we?’”

  “She’s not going to believe me. You’re the renowned entomologist. She’ll listen to you.”

  “Wonderful. I’ve just become renowned.”

  “You have a doctorate. That’s renowned enough. Come on, Godfrey. Drive over to Geneva on the Lake and we can both convince her.”

  “Norrie, it’s after nine.”

  “Trust me. These are international chocolatiers. They’re not farm boys or girls who go to bed at dusk. They’re probably just sitting down to dinner or hanging out at the bar, which, by the way, is quite classy.”

  “Classy bar or not, I have to be at work first thing in the morning.”

  “Then let’s get a move on.”

  I yanked him by the arm and he groaned. “One hour. That’s all I’m giving you. One hour. And believe me when I tell you, I can’t wait for Jason to get back from Costa Rica.”

  Godfrey followed me to Geneva on the Lake, which was less than two miles from Dunkin’ Donuts. Thanks to Bluetooth, I called Theo from the road and told him I had a plan. He promptly relayed that info to the others and all I could hear were groans and one gasp. I think it was Catherine.


  “Relax, Theo. And tell the ladies to chill out, too. Godfrey’s with me. We’re going to show Allete the spider and Godfrey will explain that it’s a common house spider that got lost from its web and not the result of someone trying to harm her.”

  Theo moaned. “What are you going to do? Knock on her door and show her the jar with the spider in it?”

  “Um, er, I hope not. I’m banking on the fact she’ll be hanging out in the bar or maybe finishing up dinner.”

  “If she’s in the dining room, do not take out that spider. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you. You’re practically screaming. This is the best option I can think of, given the timeframe. Unless, of course, you and the rest of WOW came up with something better.”

  Dead silence. “Rosalee thought we could threaten her with a lawsuit, but good luck with that.”

  “Guess spider-in-the-jar is the plan for now.”

  “Good. That means we can adjourn this WOW meeting,” Theo said. “I’ll set up a phone tree to let everyone know how you fared with Allete. Call me as soon as you can get her to agree to be at Terrace Wineries tomorrow morning.”

  “There’s always plan B,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “We bribe her.”

  Chapter 18

  Allete Barrineau was seated in one of two oversized armchairs near the marble fireplace that graced the bar. Her shoulder-length ash-brown hair cascaded around her neck. Dressed casually in jeans and a dark turtleneck sweater, she looked nothing like she did at the opening event, or in her magazine photos.

  “See?” I whispered to Godfrey as we entered the room. “I told you she’d be here. People need to unwind. Darn it. That other armchair is facing hers, and I can’t see the woman who’s in it. Only that perfectly coiffed hairdo of hers. Let’s move in closer. Act nonchalant.”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Very funny. Oh my gosh. Look at her hair. Look at her hair.”

  “Whose? And what am I looking at?”

  “Not Allete. The woman. It’s not the firelight that’s casting a reddish hue on her hair, it is reddish. You don’t suppose it’s the same woman who gave Earvin a dueling scar and who broke up the chocolate fight at Stephanie’s winery, do you?”

  “No clue. Look to your left. There are two available chairs around that small bistro table. I say we sit down before someone else does.”

  “Fine.”

  Godfrey and I were only a few feet from Allete and the woman she was speaking with. I looked around the room but didn’t see Stanislav, Earvin, or anyone else remotely involved with the chocolate festival. “I suppose we should get a drink from the bar so we don’t look as if we’re on a stakeout. What goes good after two cups of coffee and donuts?”

  “A Tums.” Godfrey stood and gave me a wink. “I’ll get us club sodas with lime.”

  I watched Allete as Godfrey made his way to the bar. She didn’t appear to be nervous, but she wasn’t exactly caroling with laughter. When Godfrey returned, the women were still conversing.

  “We can’t stay here all night,” I said. “We’ve got to make a move.”

  Before I could respond, the woman across from Allete stood and walked right past us. Unlike Allete, she wore dark slacks, a dark top, and what appeared to be a white silk pashmina. I didn’t know why my eyes focused on her scarf first, but it was only a matter of seconds when I got a better look at her face.

  I all but sunk my fingernails into Godfrey’s wrist. “It’s her. It’s her. The auburn-haired woman. Take a good look.”

  Godfrey turned his head and stared as she blew past us. “Geez Marie. I’ve seen her before. Well, not her, but her likeness. Maybe in a photo.”

  “You’re no help. Wait a sec. She’s only going to the bar. We still have time to find out who she is. Meanwhile, we’ve got to speak with Allete. Now. While she’s alone.”

  I grabbed my bag and charged over to the now-empty armchair directly across from Allete, sat down, and pulled the chair closer to her. Godfrey stood directly behind me, and I prayed I wouldn’t louse things up.

  “Allete? I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Norrie Ellington from Two Witches Winery. We met at the opening reception for the chocolatiers.”

  Allete extended her hand and said hello. “I hate to be rude, Miss Ellington, but I’m with someone at the moment and she’ll be right back.”

  “This will only take a second. I heard about the unfortunate incident today at Gable Hill Winery, and that’s why I’m here. I’m with Dr. Godfrey Klein, from the New York State Agricultural Experiment Station, Cornell University, to be precise. Dr. Klein is familiar with the species of spider you encountered and well…”

  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly a smooth segue. I took out the jar from my bag and held it inches from her face. That was when she let out a deafening scream followed by at least three or four “Oh, mon dieu.”

  I tried again. “This spider is really a very—”

  “Deadly and poisonous one? And you’ve brought a New York doctor to tell me that its poison got into my skin somehow? Oh, mon dieu! I thought I felt a bite. I felt something.”

  Allete started to hyperventilate and Godfrey stepped in front of my chair. “Calm down, Miss, Miss…”

  “Barrineau. Allete Barrineau.”

  “The spider is harmless. Not dangerous. It’s a common American house spider. Try to take a slow, deep breath.”

  By now, at least six or seven hotel guests crowded around us. One of them offered a large glass of water to Allete, and she took furious gulps. “I’m better. Thank you.”

  One by one, the guests who surrounded Allete returned to their seats and Godfrey stepped away from Allete.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said. “We came here to tell you that you were never in danger. Those spiders sometimes get lost from their webs and that’s probably what happened to the one that got into your chef’s jacket.”

  Allete brushed some strands of hair from her face and looked around. “Are you certain?”

  “Positive,” Godfrey said. “I’m an entomologist, not a physician. Trust me when I tell you, the spider in that jar isn’t a threat. As an entomologist, I work with the wine growers on this lake to ensure their grapevines are free from pests and will produce quality wine. This is a burgeoning region and its success also depends upon its ability to showcase its product. That’s where you come in. We need you to continue with your chocolate demonstrations so our stellar reputation as a region will continue to grow. If you let us down, you’re letting down hundreds of people who earn their livelihoods in the wine-making industry.”

  Holy Cow! This guy can lay it on thicker than peanut butter. Too bad he’s not running for office.

  Allete widened her eyes and remained silent for a moment. “I wish it were that simple, Dr. Klein, but if you must know, I think the chocolatier from Belgium is plotting to kill me. He already murdered his uncle and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  “Murdered his uncle?” I all but choked getting the words out. “How do you know? How can you be sure?”

  “Why do you suppose Jules Leurant’s longtime assistant quit? Because he feared for his life. And who else would he fear it from, if not Earvin Roels? He didn’t fool any of us with that meek and mousy behavior. Jules’s body was hardly cold when Earvin revealed his true self. Yes, I’m basing my opinion on gossip, but gossip has its roots in the truth.”

  “Did you tell this to the deputy in charge of the investigation? Deputy Hickman?”

  “More than once. On the day Jules’s body was discovered and again a few hours ago when the deputy questioned me again. He and another deputy were here at the hotel.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. But it was useless. He asked the same questions over and over again. ‘Did you notice anything out of the or
dinary at the opening reception?’ ‘Did you hear anything out of the ordinary?’ ‘Did you see anyone acting strangely?’ Finally, I threw my hands in the air and said, ‘No, no, no!’ The only one acting strangely was that deputy.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Allete, Earvin Roels won’t be anywhere near you tomorrow. He’ll be at my winery and at the Grey Egret. I promise you. I’ll speak with Rosalee Marbleton and Catherine Trobert tonight to make sure they post someone around you at all times for your safety. Will you please reconsider? This isn’t a competition for us, it’s a matter of survival, including the reputations we must protect.”

  Try topping that one, Godfrey.

  Allete swallowed and took a deep breath. “You can tell the hundreds of workers that Allete Barrineau also has a reputation to protect and I shall be at those wineries tomorrow.”

  Godfrey extended his hand and she shook it. I, on the other hand, put the spider jar back in my bag and gave her a quick wave. “Um, your friend…I don’t see her. I hope she didn’t feel as if we intruded on her evening and left.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She’s a guest at this hotel. I can converse with her another time.”

  “Oh, I thought she might have been involved with the chocolate festival. There are so many business people associated with it, not to mention news media.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Allete said. “I only met her tonight. Sometimes it’s nice to chat with someone who speaks your native language.”

  “She’s French, too?”

  “No, Belgian.”

  At that moment, Stanislav strode into the bar and walked directly to where Allete was seated. “Are you all right? I overheard someone by the elevator saying a French woman was screaming in the bar. Sorry I’m late. I had to take a phone call.” Then he looked at Godfrey and me as if we were wallpaper. “My apologies. It has been a very trying day. Have we met?”

  I introduced Godfrey and reintroduced myself. “Yes, it’s been a very long day. Hopefully tomorrow will go smoother.” I thanked Allete again and rose from the chair.

  Stanislav immediately plunked himself down and leaned closer to Allete.