Dead on the Vine

by Elle Brooke White

  “I have no doubt, Samuel. Your reporting was clear and easy to read. But Serge, on the other hand, adopted a convoluted system after taking over the sales side of the books, and it took me a while to decipher.”

  “So it wasn’t just me. I couldn’t tell what the hell I was looking at.”

  “Serge was counting on just that. He was underreporting our produce sales almost from the beginning.”

  Samuel kicked a piece of tree branch. “I never should have agreed with Joe and turned that job over to Serge.”

  “So it was Joe’s idea?”

  “He would never complain, but I could see that he had too many daily jobs. The guy was getting no sleep. Rats.” Samuel seemed genuinely disgusted with himself.

  It had gotten even quieter as Charlotte saw that the sun was beginning to wane. She looked down and also noticed that the men who had been repairing the vinyl had quit for the day and taken their ladders up with them. Leaving only the rope.

  “So how are you going to handle this? Have you told the chief?” Samuel asked.

  Charlotte shared the story of her and Beau’s visit to Serge’s office, the invoice she’d left, and the list of customers they’d acquired. Then she explained the plan.

  “Great idea. I know pretty much every farmer around here, and by the time I’m done telling them what Serge has been doing, the guy won’t be able to show his face within a fifty-mile radius.” Samuel let out a guttural laugh.

  “Don’t do anything just yet. I want to make sure that the timing is just right.”

  Horse was happily exploring the basin’s edge and watched with fascination as he kicked a stone hard enough for it to go rolling down the slope.

  “Pig! You stay up here!” Samuel suddenly yelled, and Charlotte saw Horse grinning up at her.

  “Horse, no!” Charlotte shouted, but it was no use. The pig was half-running and half-sliding down the hill.

  “Aw, geez, I’m going to make sure that he’s all right.” Charlotte peered down to the lake’s floor, ready to descend.

  “The hell you are!” Samuel shouted, grabbing the rope and rappelling down the slope at top speed. He jumped the last six feet to the bottom and chased after Horse.

  “Is my little man okay?” Charlotte yelled, and heard her voice echo in the empty space.

  “He’s on his feet, if that’s what you’re asking. And he’s found some mud, so I’d say yes.”

  Charlotte watched Samuel pick up Horse, who was now half pink and half brown from the mud. He tried to squirm away, not yet ready to concede that playtime was over.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Samuel held the pig with one arm and with the other worked at taking off his tank top. Once he’d gotten it off, he tied it into a makeshift baby sling and secured Horse inside it.

  Charlotte tried to be subtle in her staring while she inched a little further down the slope.

  “Don’t you dare!” Samuel hollered up at her, making fast work using the rope to ascend.

  Suddenly the ground began to rumble.

  “Was that an earthquake?” Charlotte shouted.

  Samuel looked around. “Do you see anything swaying?”

  It was then that Charlotte realized that the sun had almost set.

  “No. I don’t, but it’s kind of dark to see,” Charlotte shouted over a second wave of rumbling.

  “That’s not an earthquake—that’s the pump starting up! I told Joe to wait until morning, and I know that he heard me. This is very unlike him.” Samuel scratched his head as he watched water below start rushing into the basin. He quickened his pace, pulling himself and Horse up the hill.

  “Could someone other than Joe have turned the pump on?”

  “Yes, but who? It also could have been installed with the valve already open.”

  “How often does a new pump come out of the box that way, Samuel? You don’t think that someone was trying to sabotage this operation do you?”

  “I don’t like where you’re going with this …”

  “Me neither, but given everything that has happened, it’s not so far-fetched.” Charlotte could now look Samuel in the eyes. He had only a few more feet to reach the top.

  “Someone else could have opened the valve and not known I was down there. It’s almost dark outside, and if they didn’t know to look, they wouldn’t have seen us.”

  “Like who, Samuel? Wade perhaps?”

  “I don’t know, Charlotte.” He released Horse back down onto flat ground and headed in the direction of his cabin.

  “Horse, I wish you could tell me what this is all about. But first let’s warm up and get something to eat.”

  That was the buzzword that never failed to send Horse into euphoria.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte retired early to her room, begging off dinner with Beau by saying that she was dead tired from the accident the night before and the ordeal at the lake. He understood and seemed to take it in stride.

  Horse ambled into her room not long after she’d taken a soothing shower and changed into jersey shorts and a nightshirt. Her damp hair was wrapped up in a towel.

  “Have a nice dinner, little man?”

  He inflated his rosy cheeks and gave her a big smile.

  “Come up here and help me do a little sleuthing,” Charlotte told him, firing up her laptop.

  Horse hopped up onto the sofa and squealed when he saw the desktop image pop up. It was of him! Charlotte giggled too. She’d uploaded it a couple of days ago and wondered if it would register with him. She’d crossed her fingers, knowing how often Horse stopped in front of the full-length mirror to stare at himself

  “Yes, that’s you. Maybe tomorrow we can take a shot of two of us together.”

  Charlotte opened a search engine and typed in the words “Marcus Cordero.”

  “Oh, there are a lot of them in California. Time to narrow the search.”

  As Charlotte typed, Horse stayed glued to the computer screen, ignoring her dancing fingers.

  “Now we’re getting down to something manageable.” Charlotte looked at the page of results after adding “San Francisco” to the query.

  Charlotte heard a noise coming from outside her room and figured that Beau was sneaking into the kitchen for a bedtime snack. She paused to listen for a moment, and when she didn’t hear anything else, she went back to her research.

  “Seeing as Marcus was just a young man, I guess that I should check these social media accounts, don’t you think, Horse?”

  Charlotte swore that she saw him nod his head.

  After a few dead ends, she finally located the deceased’s account. A feeling of deep sympathy soon dissipated when she began reading his postings. Like Wade, he’d been an angry guy. He’d hated any kind of authority: cops, government, employers. And his rants had a tinge of violence to them that, thankfully, it seemed he’d never acted on. Charlotte shook from a sudden chill.

  “Yipes!” she shouted after hearing a knock on her bedroom door.

  “You okay, honey? Guess who got the weekend off after all?”

  The door opened, and Charlotte saw Diane.

  “Sorry if I frightened you—don’t you two look cozy.” Diane gave her bestie a hug.

  “Oh Diane, you are a sight for sore eyes! I’m so happy you’re here. And I was creeped out even before you knocked.”

  Charlotte explained what she had been doing and showed her Marcus’s social media page.

  “It seems odd that a guy with that much rage would want to or be good at working with animals. They can sense things,” Diane said, giving Horse a kiss on the top of his head.

  “Where’s Mrs. Robinson, by the way?” Diane asked. “I thought that Horse and his ladybug friend were inseparable.”

  “She’s out on assignment just now, leading the charge to control the aphid population.”

  “Interesting.” Diane gave her friend a concerned look.

  “I thought the same thing about Marcus, although maybe animals calmed him down.” Ch
arlotte thought for a moment. “Unless …

  “Unless what?” Diane was curious.

  “Unless his being in this area and working with animals was all by design.”

  “You think that he found out that his mother knew Tobias and came here to lay claim to the farm? Wow.”

  “It would sure explain a lot, like what he might have been doing in my tomato field. Maybe he’d come to spy on me … remember that we’d just arrived.” Charlotte tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

  “You look exhausted, hon. Go get some rest, and I’ll make you a spectacular breakfast in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Diane. I’ll fall asleep to dreams of fluffy scrambled eggs and biscuits.”

  Charlotte looked at Horse and saw that his eyelashes were now resting on his cheeks, and there was a content smile on his face. She turned off the computer, and the lights and carried him to bed.

  Not more than a minute after Diane had left, Charlotte put her head down on the pillow and fell fast asleep. As did Horse.

  * * *

  The next morning after an indeed wonderful breakfast, the three childhood friends ventured outside to check on the progress of filling the lake.

  “It already looks fantastic,” Beau said, surveying the one-third-filled basin.

  “Well, it didn’t look so great last night when Samuel and Horse were stuck at the bottom.”

  Beau and Diane stopped mid-step and stared at Charlotte. She explained about the pump suddenly turning on and their risk of being trapped.

  “Gee, that does seem like an awful lot of coincidences at once,” Diane remarked.

  “Exactly what I said to Samuel, but he refused to believe it.”

  “I don’t suppose that the name ‘Wade’ popped into your mind did it?” Beau inquired.

  Charlotte placed the end of her index finger to the tip of her nose, indicating to Beau that he was right.

  A truck that was coming up the drive carrying day laborers interrupted Charlotte. Joe was waiting at the top to greet them.

  “Let’s go see what the plan is for today,” Charlotte said, walking toward the farmhouse.

  “Good morning,” Joe called out, waving. “I see the gang’s all here.”

  “And I see that you’ve got yourself a bunch of helpers. Is today special on the farm that you require extra hands?”

  “We’re ten days away from the July Fourth holiday, so we want to get as much produce to market as possible. Samuel told me last night that he wants to set up shop at tomorrow’s farmers market and bypass Serge and his commission. So, I called for reinforcements.”

  “Sounds like a perfect plan, and count me in for picking duty,” Charlotte replied, and Beau and Diane immediately volunteered as well.

  “Great, why don’t you head down and check in with Samuel while I get these fellows organized and signed in.”

  They nodded to Joe and started down the hillside.

  “He still seems like such a nice guy,” Diane remarked.

  Charlotte shrugged her shoulders.

  “What? Joe too? Next you’re going to tell me that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus.” Diane looked at Charlotte.

  “Understandable,” Beau said. “Ah, Farmer Brown, top of the morning to you!”

  Samuel nodded to the group.

  “We’ve come to be put to work on the harvest; your other ten hands will be along in a moment.” Charlotte tried to keep it light, they had not parted on the best of terms last night, and she wanted today to be as productive as possible.

  “Good. How about you three work the strawberry field on the north side?” Samuel said, pointing. “You can take this electric cart with the trailer. It’s charged and all set to go, with empty baskets. Make sure that the berries are plump and firm and completely red. Hold the stem of the berry about a half-inch from the fruit between your thumbnail and index finger. Use your thumbnail to sever the stem and make sure to leave some of it and the cap intact. I’ve got a bunch of hats on hooks in the barn. Help yourself—you’ll need one against the sun,” he told Beau and Diane. Charlotte was sporting her uncle’s Stetson.

  “Thanks, Samuel. We’ll work all morning as fast as we can. After lunch we’ll need to spend our time setting up the shop and antique mart,” Charlotte told him.

  “Is that when you’ll need to move the furniture you want to sell out of the farmhouse?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Just let me know when, and I’ll grab one of the guys and we’ll do it.” Samuel kicked the dirt on the paddock floor, something she noticed that he did when he was frustrated. “Listen, I’m sorry that I got so angry last evening. There’s just been a lot of bad things happening lately, and I don’t like it. At all.”

  “I understand, and it all started when I arrived on the scene,” Charlotte said. “But I can assure you that I’m going to get to the bottom of this, and the murderer will pay.”

  “How do we look?” they heard Beau ask.

  He had donned a pink visor with an extra long brim, and Diane was wearing an Australian Outback sun hat.

  “You both look dashing. Hop in the cart—we’re off to pick strawberries.”

  Charlotte started the motor and slowly pulled away from the paddock. She heard a loud squeal and slammed on the brakes. She looked back and saw Horse racing toward the cart, still chomping on the last bites of breakfast.

  “Chew it all up before you jump on, little man. I don’t want you choking.

  Horse stopped and did exactly that.

  * * *

  By one o’clock, the three had managed to pick fifty-two quarts of strawberries before cramping got the best of their fingers and hands. Samuel was ecstatic with their progress, and Charlotte told him that in an hour they’d be ready for help moving furniture.

  She saw that one of the two open-bed farm trucks was almost full with boxes of tomatoes.

  “We’ll fill the other one with more tomatoes and the last of the strawberries. Season’s almost over,” Samuel explained.

  “Charlotte, you look ravishing as usual,” cooed Annabel, leading a trail of yoga students down to the barn.

  “Hi, Annabel. Now is really not a good time for you to have a yoga class here. We’re in the middle of harvesting for market tomorrow, and we need the space to sort the fruit into containers. I think that in the future you’re going to have to schedule classes a week in advance so that we can avoid these conflicts. Also, we’ll need to charge you rent to cover costs, Samuel’s time, and the use of the goats.”

  It was like everyone, including the animals, froze in place. Annabel’s mouth dropped to her chest, and her face was as red as a beefsteak tomato. Matching her lipstick perfectly. Charlotte remembered how much Annabel detested the word “no.”

  “Well, this is certainly an inconvenient surprise. We’ve been coming here for years,” Annabel finally spat out.

  “This is a working farm, and that comes first.” Charlotte gave Annabel her brightest smile.

  Samuel stifled a laugh.

  “Back up, people—there’ll be no class today,” Annabel announced, flicking her hand at them as if she was shooing away a fly. Her water bottle dropped from under her arm onto the ground. She didn’t even have the courtesy to retrieve it.

  “But how am I going to find my flow?” asked one portly gentleman.

  “I don’t know—why don’t you ask Siri?” Annabel snapped back at him.

  Everyone watched them stomp off.

  “Namaste,” Beau said with a slight bow, pressing his hands together and pointing them upward with his thumbs close to his chest.

  The goats wandered out of the barn and started a chorus of happy bleats. Horse joined in to provide the bass. Because that’s what it’s all about.

  The afternoon seemed almost boring by comparison to the “showdown with Annabel,” as it was being called. Alice and Diane slipped away early to prepare dinner, which was served family style and al fresco. Everyone had showered and cleaned up for the meal,
and Samuel was even wearing a shirt with a collar. Joe brought some bottles of wine and proposed the first toast.

  “Here’s to the Finn Family Farm. May she continue to prosper and provide bountiful fruits and vegetables for the people of Santa Barbara County.”

  “Here, here,” said Samuel.

  Despite everyone being bone tired, it was a merry night. It was a “good tired” and oddly invigorating from a day well spent.

  Supper was extra crispy and juicy fried chicken, creamy polenta, a huge garden salad, and Diane’s signature garlic knots. Everyone was talking at once with excitement for tomorrow’s farmers market—a nice boost in income for the farm was just what the doctor ordered.

  Charlotte looked at the tanned, happy faces of the people seated around the table against a backdrop of verdant hills and a midnight-blue night sky. Its endless stars winked at her, and Charlotte thought that life was indeed good and that she could call the farm home.

  “In addition to selling our produce tomorrow, let’s pick up everything we need that will last for our barbecue a week from today,” Charlotte suggested. “Alice, do you have a list?”

  “Mostly, but I’ll sit with Diane after supper and add anything I’ve missed.”

  “And I’ve got the napkins, plates, cups, and decorations covered, Char,” Beau announced. “The theme is going to be Americana meets David Hockney!”

  Charlotte couldn’t exactly picture that, but she trusted Beau to create something festive.

  “I’m in charge of the grilling and smokers. I’ll set up barbecue barrel grills near the lake and your market. We’ve got enough wooden doors and saw horses for tables as well,” Joe informed her.

  “Wahoo!” shouted Diane. “This is going to be a humdinger of a hootenanny!”

  Samuel started to giggle and then erupted into full-on laughter, to the point where tears were running down his cheeks. It was contagious, because everyone joined in, even though they weren’t sure what they were laughing at.

  “What’s so funny, Samuel?” Joe finally asked.

  “I’m just picturing Serge’s face tomorrow when he struts around the market, trying to find more farmers to steal from, and sees that we’ve cut him out of his beloved money.”