by Laina Turner
Trixie wondered how Deanna could be so sure but didn't know how to ask without making it seem like she was accusing Tracy of something. And that's exactly what she didn’t want Deanna to think. Tracy was the one person who seemed to care about the winery as much as Deanna and Deanna was counting on her, so she didn’t feel right sharing things Tracy said just because she felt them odd. Deanna clearly trusted Tracy and Trixie didn’t want to say anything to dispel that. She needed to trust that Deanna knew what she was talking about.
Trixie thought of another way to open the conversation that wouldn’t seem accusatory. “Tracy doesn't have any idea where he might've gone?”
“No, she thought he was going to the conference like I did and when I asked her, she said she hadn’t heard from him since he’d left.”
“When I first got here today Tracy mentioned something about you selling. Could someone who might want to buy the property have killed David?”
Deanna gave kind of a half-laugh, half snort and set her cup down. “There is another winery that bid on this property when we did and lost to us. They've approached us a few times about selling and were angry when we said no, but it's just business. They certainly weren’t angry enough to kill David. I mean, who would murder someone over something like that?” Deanna's voice trailed off as she finished her sentence. People often killed for a lot less. Deanna swallowed and paused to compose herself and then continued talking. “The wine community, at least here in the Midwest, is pretty tight-knit. At least in the short time we've been doing this that's how they’ve made me feel.”
Well, that's too bad, Trixie thought. Not that she wanted there to be animosity between Deanna and her competitors, but it would've been easier to find his killer if there was a clear enemy.
“I will help anyway I can, but I’m not sure what I can do.”
“Thank you, Trixie, I appreciate it,” she said and then they heard footsteps and looked over into the master bedroom where a young man, probably in his early twenties, burst through the doorway. He looked like David. Trixie knew David had a son from a previous marriage and she assumed this was him.
“Deanna, is it true? I didn't get your messages last night because I was out, and my phone was dead. I was driving home from a friend's this morning when I heard the news and came right here. Is it true?” he said frantically, standing in front of them.
Deanna slowly nodded and the young man sobbed. Deanna stood up, enveloping him into her arms and giving him a big hug. “Oh, Dean, I am so sorry,” she said, holding him tight as he cried.
Trixie felt uncomfortable witnessing a private family moment so she stood up and started to back away, catching Deanna's eye and motioning that she would call her later. Deanna nodded as she continued to whisper consoling words into Dean's ear. Trixie let herself out, closing the door behind her and thought what a tragedy. Whoever had murdered David had ripped him away from people who loved him, and they shouldn’t get away with it. She felt a fierce determination to do something. She just didn’t know what.
As Trixie headed down the steps, she could see Tracy talking to an older gentleman through the door that was open between the backroom and the storefront. The man looked angry and she couldn't hear what Tracy was saying but her body language looked like it wasn't a pleasant conversation. Trixie sped up so she could reach Tracy and offer her assistance if this was some disgruntled customer. That was the last thing they needed to deal with today. As Trixie got into earshot, she heard the man say to Tracy under his breath, “You better call me tonight with those details.”
“Get out of here,” Tracy hissed and as Trixie reached them the man gave her a quick glance and quickly headed out the door.
“Is everything okay?” Trixie asked.
“It's fine. How's Deanna?” Tracy said with a smile on her face and no sign of the anger she’d seen a second ago.
“David's son, I assume it was his son, just got here so I decided I would give them some privacy.”
“Yeah, that was Dean. I saw him run through the store into the back, but I was talking to someone and didn't have a chance to catch him.”
“That gentleman I saw you talking to, was he a customer?”
“I feel so bad for Dean and Deanna,” Tracy said, shaking her head and it didn't escape Trixie that she was changing the subject and not answering her question. Which meant she didn’t want to tell Trixie who it was or why they were arguing, which piqued Trixie’s interest even further.
Was there something she was trying to hide? Was Tracy more than a loyal employee?
Chapter 6
“Oh no, you aren't serious, are you?” Sally exclaimed as Trixie told her and Cora the details she knew about Deanna's husband later that day when she stopped into Read Wine. She'd told them last night that David had died but hadn't had the chance to fill them in on exactly what happened.
“Oh my, I assumed when you’d said he’d died it was a heart attack or some other natural cause. That’s horrible. How is she doing?” Sally asked.
“About as well as can be expected,” Trixie said. “I can’t even imagine how she feels.”
“Are you okay? Being that you're the one that found the body.” Sally asked, frowning and clearly concerned.
“I'm fine.” Trixie waved away their concern. “I'm just worried about Deanna.”
“There's more to this. What are you not telling us, Trixie?” said Cora, giving her a look. Cora and Sally knew her all too well. She’d told Clive she wouldn’t gossip, but she knew they wouldn’t say anything, and did he really expect her not to tell her friends?
“Clive will kill me if he finds out I'm gossiping, but I think David was murdered and so does Deanna,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. There was only one customer in the shop, and they were at a table on the other side, but Trixie didn't want to take any chances that she’d be overheard. Sally and Cora's eyes both widened as they just stared at her, absorbing what she’d said.
“Why would you think that?” asked Sally.
“Don't be silly. Trixie said he was found in a big pot. Do you think he got in there by himself?” Cora chided.
“Exactly my thoughts,” Trixie said. “There's no way he could have just fallen in there. The opening at the top is narrow enough so you could easily catch yourself if you lost your balance. Plus, the pot was sealed, and I really don’t think he would seal himself in there.”
“What did Deanna say?” Sally asked. “I mean, why does she think he’s been murdered?”
“She thinks David never would have come back to the winery without telling her, so someone must have lured him back with a good enough reason to keep it from her and then killed him.”
“That’s somewhat of a stretch don’t you think?” Cora asked.
Sally interrupted before Trixie could answer that question. “What does Clive think?”
“A big fat nothing. He said he wasn't going to speculate one way or the other until he had all the information from the medical examiner. And you know him. Stoic. He wouldn’t give anything away.”
“Do you think he'll tell you once he does know?” Cora said.
“It depends on what kind of mood he's in, I guess,” Trixie said. “Or how much I hound him.”
Later that day Trixie was about to find out as she stopped by the sheriff’s office to talk to Clive. Being the small town they were, it was still possible to walk in the building and back to Clive's private office without anyone stopping you. It didn’t hurt that she knew Sarah, the receptionist at the police station, who also happened to be friends with Trixie’s mom. She was on the phone when Trixie walked in and pointed back to Clive’s office and Sarah just waved her on so she could walk back to Clive’s office. Which was exactly what Trixie did much to Clive's apparent annoyance when he walked in his office and found her sitting there.
She was sitting in one of the chairs across from his desk checking her email. Technology did make things easier.
“Couldn't find any other place to
hang out?” Clive said gruffly.
“Nope. I wanted some peace and quiet and I thought what better place than your office.”
“I’m going to have to have a talk with Sarah about the riff raff she allows back in my office. Let me guess. You want to know what I found out about David,” he said, taking a seat behind his desk.
“Well, since I'm here.” Trixie smiled and Clive looked even more annoyed. If she hadn’t known him since the fifth grade, she might even be intimidated. “Come on, I promise I won't say anything.” He raised his eyebrows and snorted. “Okay, fine. I'll tell Sally and Cora, but they won't say anything. C'mon, Clive, you can trust me. Trust us.”
“You're not going to stop harassing me until I tell you, are you?”
Trixie shrugged. “Probably not.”
Clive sighed and Trixie knew she'd worn him down. But as excited as she was to hear what he had to say she didn't push any further and waited for him to tell her.
“He drowned,” Clive said matter-of-factly.
“From the wine? He drowned in the wine?” Trixie repeated because it just seemed kind of ridiculous, but she'd seen him in the terra cotta pot floating in the wine, so she guessed it made sense.
Clive nodded.
“But how did he get in there? Do you think he fell?” Trixie didn’t see how that was possible and it still didn’t explain why he came back without telling Deanna.
Clive hesitated. “He was injected with a paralytic agent.”
“You think someone paralyzed him and pushed him in the pot?”
“Unfortunately, I'm kind of leaning that way.” He slumped back in his chair. “In fact, unless this was a case of suicide and he injected himself before jumping in the pot there doesn't seem to be any other explanation.”
Trixie sat there taking in what Clive said. She wasn't surprised, she'd already been thinking murder, but to hear it out loud from him was unsettling.
“So, it's murder?”
“Yes,” he said grimly. “But you didn't hear it from me, and you'd better not repeat it. I need to talk to Deanna and tell her, but I hate to bombard her with bad news so soon. This is the part of the job I hate,” he leaned back in his chair and sighed.
Trixie didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want to convey the news either, but then it wouldn’t come as a complete shock to Deanna.
“It's not like it will be any easier tomorrow or the next day. I was there earlier, and she was distraught, of course, but she's holding it together as much as can be expected. And she already thinks he's been murdered.”
“Trixie, I told you,” Clive said, his voice starting to rise.
“I didn't put any ideas in her head so don’t go getting all mad at me. This was all her. She said there wasn't any possible way he would come back from the airport and not tell her, plus he was looking forward to this trip. So, she doesn’t think his death is accidental. None of it makes sense.”
Clive rubbed his face with his hands. “Murder rarely does.”
Chapter 7
“I can't believe I let you talk me into allowing you to tagalong,” Clive grumbled.
“Don't try to pretend you don't want me here,” Trixie joked. “I swear, sometimes you are such a stick in the mud.” Clive glared at her as he opened the door to the winery and motioned for her to go in. “You're such a gentleman.”
Clive grunted and they both walked up to the front counter area where Trixie saw Tracy standing and talking on the phone.
Tracy held up two fingers to tell them she'd be a minute so Trixie browsed around the shop while Clive just stood there looking imposing. The store carried a lot of things she hadn't noticed the first couple times she'd been in since her mind had been otherwise occupied.
They had olive oil, vinegars, and artesian breads, just to name a few. It was making her mouth water and she'd had breakfast just an hour ago. But to her the smell of fresh baked breads was one of the best smells and was guaranteed to produce hunger pangs even when she wasn’t hungry. In fact, there was no way she should be hungry already, but everything looked so good she wanted to try them all.
“What can I help you with?” she heard Tracy say to Clive, so she was obviously off the phone. Trixie headed back up to the front of the store.
“I need to talk to Deanna, you and eventually all the employees,” Clive said in his best formal, no nonsense police tone.
“I assume this is about David?” Trixie heard Tracy say as she reached them. Trixie tried to gauge Tracy’s mood but couldn't tell if she seemed worried or not. Though her lack of being upset could just be her being professional. Who was Trixie to judge someone’s emotions whom she didn't even know? Not to mention maybe they weren’t that close on a personal level.
“Yes, it's about David. Is Deanna here?”
Tracy nodded. “Let me call up and tell her you're here.” She turned to the back of the counter and picked up a phone and dialed. “Deanna, the sheriff is here to see you.” She put the phone down and turned back. “She'll be down in a second. Should I round up the employees to talk with you?”
“That would be appreciated.”
Deanna then walked through the door into the store area and Trixie felt bad. It looked like she hadn’t slept a wink. Though how could she be expected to sleep after losing her husband, most likely to murder.
“Hi, Clive, Trixie,” Deanna said, sounding tired and sad.
“Hey, Deanna, how are you holding up?” Clive said softly. He often came across gruff and mean, but he also had a soft side to him which made him not only a good person but good at his job.
“I've been better.”
“I'm sorry to have to come out here and bother you again but I do have a few more questions to ask you.”
“I get it. It's fine. We can go back in my office to chat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, I'm fine, thank you.”
Deanna and Clive walked to the back and obviously Trixie, as much as she would like to know what they were talking about, didn’t even try to follow. It wasn’t appropriate for her to listen in, so she didn't even push it with Clive. Instead, she thought maybe if she walked around and had the chance to talk with Tracy and any other employees that might be around, she might discover some information.
She saw Tracy talking to a couple people she recognized from the other night but wasn’t sure who they were. She assumed employees, as they each had Bramble Patch Winery shirts on. As they stood outside the entrance to the building where the wine was made, a car horn sounded in the parking lot, catching her attention. She looked toward the parking lot and recognized Dean. She wondered if he was going to head to the store where she was standing on the front porch or if he was going to head over to Tracy. She assumed he was here to see Deanna and would head toward the store. Which is what he did, walking in her direction.
Trixie was standing on the deck in front of the store, which had tables and chairs for people to sit at when Dean reached her.
“Are you here to see Deanna?” Trixie asked.
“Yes. What business is it of yours?” he snapped.
Trixie shook her head, ignoring his tone. He just lost his father so no wonder he was in a bad mood. Trixie certainly wasn't going to call him on it. “It's not my business, I just asked because she's talking to the sheriff. I was just going to tell you that if you were here to see her.”
“Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you.” He sighed.
“That's okay, you've been through a lot. I'm Trixie, a friend of Deanna’s. We went to high school together. I saw you the other day, but we didn't formally meet.”
“Dean.” He held out his hand for Trixie to shake.
“Can I get you something to drink while you're waiting for Deanna to be done?” She was feeling a little strange to play host when his dad owned the place, but she felt sorry for him and what he was going through.
“Nah. I'll just sit here,” he said and took a seat at one of the tables. “Feel free to join me if you want.”
“It's fine. He and my mother divorced when I was young, and I didn't see much of him growing up but in the past year I moved to the area and we've gotten much closer. I was even working for him. We were really in a good place. Finally, I had the dad I wanted and then this happened,” he said, choking on his words a little.
“I'm so sorry.” Trixie said, feeling like her words were so inadequate but not knowing anything better to say.
“It’s okay. It is what it is.”
“How long have you been working here?”
“A few months. I only had a part-time job and my dad asked me if I wanted to work here to make extra money. Not only did I think it would be fun, but I was excited at the prospect of spending more time with him.”
Trixie wanted to ask him if he knew why anyone would want to kill his dad but nothing she ran through her mind seemed anything but callous considering he had just lost his father.
They’d sat there in silence for a few minutes when the door opened, and Clive and Deanna walked out.
“Dean!” Deanna called, looking excited to see him as she went over to give him a hug, which he stood up to accept. “Clive, this is my stepson, Dean.”
Dean and Clive shook hands and then Clive said, “Do you have a few minutes to talk, Dean?”
“Do I have a choice?” he said, the bad attitude he’d given Trixie back in place, surprising her. She wondered why the sudden changes in attitude.
“Dean, he's just trying to help,” Deanna said, gently touching his arm.
“Sure,” Dean said dejectedly, once again with the sad, defeated tone.
“You guys can use my office,” Deanna said, and Clive and Dean walked back into the store while Deanna sat across from Trixie in the chair Dean vacated.