by Mary Ellis
When Michael lifted his glass for a hearty swallow, Jill felt obligated to take a small sip. The liquid tasted delicious but burned a trail down her throat. ‘Was the master distiller, Mr Scott, murdered?’ she asked.
This time the bartender stared at Jill. ‘Why on earth would you say that?’
‘Don’t pay any attention to her.’ Michael motioned for a refill. ‘My partner sees murder around every corner.’
The bartender refilled his glass, gave them an odd perusal and wandered away, not to return any time soon.
‘We scared her off,’ Jill whispered.
‘Not we, you. There went your big plans for tomorrow. What now?’
She checked her messages. ‘No one has cancelled my appointment with Miss Scott, the operations manager, so I plan to show up. We can take the distillery tour with tourists anytime, but this could be my only chance to meet her.’
‘You can’t invade the family’s privacy during a time like this!’
‘I don’t plan to,’ Jill snapped. ‘Most likely I’ll express my condolences and leave a business card.’
Michael shook his head. ‘The last time you were in a distillery, you tripped over a dead body and became the sheriff’s number one suspect.’
‘I didn’t trip over anyone. And how was I supposed to know Roger Clark was dead? I was trying to help.’
‘We both know how that works out. This Miss Scott is undoubtedly related to the deceased, William Scott,’ Michael hissed between his teeth.
‘I’ve done my research. The master distiller was the operations manager’s father.’
‘Then pick another operation for tomorrow and stay away from Parker Estate. You said there were four distilleries in Louisville.’
As Michael turned his attention to his phone, Jill sat there fuming. Sometimes her partner could be so unimaginative. In Roseville, she had ended up helping the distiller’s widow, Dot, who turned out to be a distant cousin. She had also assisted law enforcement, including Lieutenant Harris, whom she was now dating. So why did Michael believe her incapable of tact and decorum?
Jill took another sip and pushed away the glass, preferring her bourbon mixed with the bubbly stuff. She planned to show up for the appointment with Miss Scott on time and dressed professionally, pretending not to know someone had died. If the appointment gets cancelled, so be it. But she’d gained a lot of insight in Roseville while helping Aunt Dot with Uncle Roger’s murder, so she might prove useful in this town too.
At eight the next morning, Jill crept silently from her bedroom into the kitchen area of their suite. Loud snores coming from the other room told her Michael was still asleep. She slipped her tape recorder into her purse and headed straight for the door. She would grab coffee in the lobby or on the way, instead of chancing a litany of questions from Michael, or worse, his wrath.
Her appointment was only several blocks away. By the time her giant cup of java cooled enough to drink she had arrived at the corporate headquarters of Parker Estate Distillery. A sign on the front door indicated all distillery tours were suspended until further notice due to a death in the Parker family. The sign mentioned nothing about appointments with the operations’ manager.
Jill marched up to the receptionist’s desk with the air of someone in control. ‘Good morning. I’m Jill Curtis with an appointment with Alexis Scott.’ She stretched to her full height of five-foot-seven in heels.
‘Your appointment was for today?’ asked the blue-eyed blonde.
‘Yes, miss, at nine o’clock.’
‘Didn’t anyone call you, Miss Curtis?’
‘No, no one did.’ Jill let the tiniest bit of pique invade her tone.
‘Forgive me, but our president and master distiller passed away yesterday.’ The receptionist dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘I’m sure Miss Scott is busy making arrangements for her father.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that. I was unaware of Mr Scott’s passing, but are you certain Miss Scott isn’t waiting for me upstairs?’ Jill glanced at her watch.
‘No, I’m not certain.’ The woman glanced around nervously. ‘Let me try her extension.’ Jill crossed her fingers behind her back and waited. ‘She must have stepped away from her desk. I’ll keep trying. In the meantime, you may go up to the fourth floor, suite eleven, and have a seat in the outer office. Although her secretary won’t be in today, if Miss Scott wishes to keep the appointment, she’ll come get you. This key card is for the elevator. Return it when you’re done.’
‘Thank you. I will.’ Jill scurried to the elevator as fast as her legs would carry her, fearing a security guard would block her path at any moment. On the fourth floor, the door to suite eleven stood ajar. Jill peeked inside, spotted the secretary’s desk and a reception area devoid of people, and sat down to wait. Hearing a female voice beyond the door, she assumed the operations manager, Alexis Scott, was in.
After twenty minutes of reading magazines, Jill heard something which filled her with shame: a woman sobbing. Michael had been right about her. This was nothing but an invasion of privacy. Jill dropped the magazine on the stack and rose to her feet. But unfortunately, the magazine triggered a mini landslide of periodicals to the floor.
‘Is someone out there?’ A voice called from the inner office. ‘May I help you?’
Jill crept sheepishly to the inner door and opened it a crack. ‘It’s me, Miss Scott. Jill Curtis. We had a nine o’clock appointment. This must be a bad time, so I’ll call to reschedule.’ Head down, she turned and shuffled away.
Suddenly, a dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway. ‘Didn’t my secretary call you to cancel?’
‘No, ma’am, no one called.’ At least that part wasn’t a lie. ‘But it’s OK. Everyone has bad days and deserves a break.’
‘I’m so sorry! Come in, please … Jill, did you say? Alexis Scott, Operations Manager at Parker Estate.’ She extended her hand.
‘Yes, Jill Curtis.’ After shaking hands, Jill followed the well-dressed executive into her office.
Medium height, early thirties, and other than a mottled complexion, Miss Scott was very attractive. ‘Yes, here it is.’ She tapped a long nail on her desk calendar. ‘Jill Curtis, syndicated travel writer. We were supposed to discuss how the bourbon industry has changed over the years, along with its impact on Louisville. But my father unexpectedly passed away yesterday. Someone should have called you to reschedule our appointment.’
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Jill said, her expression horrified. ‘I hadn’t heard.’ Regretfully, that was the second time she told that lie.
Alexis blew her nose in a tissue and crossed her arms over her suit jacket. ‘Although no one’s ready to lose a parent, my dad’s death came as a total shock to me.’
‘He hadn’t been sick for a long while, giving you time to prepare?’
‘Oh, no, Dad was the picture of health. He still ran a mile before breakfast every morning and worked out at the gym three times a week.’
Jill crossed her arms too. ‘Maybe his doctor can shed some light and help you to find closure.’
‘I doubt it. Dad just had a physical two months ago for insurance purposes. His physician gave him a clean bill of health. So either the doctor missed something, or all the healthy eating, sufficient exercise, and getting enough sleep is a pack of hooey.’ Alexis drummed her fingers on the desk. ‘I think I’ll have a greasy burger and fries for lunch.’
‘I should let you get back to it since I personally know all you have to do. Recently I helped my aunt bury her husband in Roseville. He was the master distiller at Black Creek.’ Jill backed toward the doorway.
Alexis’s eyes grew round as saucers. ‘You’re related to Roger Clark? I had never met the man, but I’ve tasted his excellent product.’
‘Dorothy Clark is my grandmother’s first cousin, but she insisted I called her “Aunt Dot”. Same as your dad, Roger’s death came as quite a shock to her and the rest of the family.’
Reaching for another ti
ssue, Alexis wiped her eyes. ‘Please, Jill, we will reschedule the interview for your article, but can you stay for a moment now?’
‘Of course.’ Jill walked back to the chair and sat down primly, but kept her tape recorder in her bag.
‘First, my sympathy for the loss of your uncle. I’ll send a card to Mrs Clark and mention that you and I met.’ Alexis rolled her chair up to the desk. ‘I’d been following the story in the Louisville newspaper. The article reported Roger Clark had been murdered and the police have arrested a suspect. Is that true?’
‘It is.’ Jill chose not to mention she’d dated the alleged suspect who then subsequently had tried to kill her.
‘How awful. At first the paper reported Mr Clark’s death as an accident.’
‘Yes, then a state investigator discovered something suspicious that had been missed, so law enforcement took a closer look at the case.’
For a long moment Alexis sat quietly, as though processing the information. ‘We might have the same situation here.’ She stared down at her hands.
Unsure if the operations manager had been talking to herself, Jill remained mute.
‘How do you know if someone dies of natural causes or not?’ Alexis looked up, meeting Jill’s eye.
‘That’s for the coroner or a medical examiner to determine. Someone in charge must sign the death certificate.’
‘My mother thinks Dad died of a heart attack and that’s how it appeared to the deputy coroner who examined him at the scene. Most likely that’s what will end up on the death certificate. But Dad had no family history of coronary artery disease and as I mentioned, he recently passed his physical.’
‘I’m no doctor, but I heard that heart disease can remain undetected for years.’
‘I understand, but I want Dad’s death looked into, just like your Uncle Roger’s. Things aren’t always how they first appear.’
Jill shifted uneasily in her chair. ‘Do you have any reason to suspect foul play?’ When the executive hesitated, Jill sprang to her feet. ‘Sorry, Miss Scott. This is so not my business. I’ll call your secretary to reschedule once this funeral is behind you.’
‘Wait, I made it your business when I questioned you about Mr Clark. I just need you to point me in the right direction. Right now, my only “reason” for suspicion is a bad feeling in my gut. And the fact that everything is happening so fast.’
Jill sat back down. ‘Did your father have any enemies?’
‘I imagine he made a few along the way. There’s plenty of competition and jealousy in the bourbon business.’
‘I can certainly attest to that after living in Roseville for two weeks.’
‘Unfortunately, I run the production end of the company with my head in the sand regarding other facets of Parker Estate.’ Alexis tossed her pen across her desk.
Jill chose her next words carefully. ‘Forgive me … but is your dad still happily married to your mom? Or are they in the midst of a nasty divorce?’
‘They’re still married, but I don’t know whether they’re happy or not. Another example of my head-in-the-sand personality.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. That’s how everyone handles life until something comes along to wake us up.’
‘Now that I’m awake, I don’t know what to do.’
‘In my Uncle Roger’s case, once the cause of death was changed from accidental to murder, the police began interviewing everyone with a grudge against him or who stood to benefit from his passing. That should give you a place to start.’ Jill felt less invasive and more useful as Alexis jotted notes on a tablet.
‘But first I need to make sure natural isn’t listed as the cause of death.’
‘Absolutely, otherwise your mom can proceed with the funeral. And it would be much harder to exhume the body for an autopsy than to stop the burial now.’
A flood of tears ran down Alexis’s face.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jill said. ‘I must sound callous when I refer to your beloved father as “the body”.’
Alexis shook her head from side to side. ‘That’s not why I’m crying. In keeping with my parents’ wishes, my father will be cremated and not buried. Only immediate family will be present. The memorial service will be this weekend with an urn of ashes.’
‘When will this cremation take place?’ Jill leaned forward in her chair.
‘Soon, if my mother gets her way.’ Alexis sobbed. ‘I’ve never felt so out of control in my life.’
This time it was Jill’s turn to sit quietly and consider the consequences. ‘There is no way around this – you must stop the cremation from taking place. Talk to your mother or her attorney, or whoever is in charge.’
‘Mom has already made arrangements with the funeral director. If I insist she stop the cremation, she’ll want to know why. I don’t have a single concrete reason other than my gut feeling.’ Alexis’s wrapped a stray lock of hair around her finger.
‘The deputy coroner must first talk to your dad’s doctor to see if he or she agrees with a finding of natural causes. If the doctor agrees, demand that Dad’s body is sent to the state medical examiner for a full autopsy. Tell your mom you need another opinion to have closure. You’re his daughter, not an uninterested bystander. If necessary, make up a reason to your mother.’ Jill realized she was being over-the-top pushy. ‘That is if you want to. I’m a complete stranger. I don’t want to tell you what to do.’
Alexis flattened her palms on the desktop. ‘Believe me, you’re not. I’m so glad you showed up today. If I’d spilled my guts to anyone here, they’d think I lost my mind.’
‘My videographer and partner, who goes everywhere I do, thinks that about me all the time,’ Jill said.
‘Well, I don’t. Could I call you if I have more questions? Then whenever you’re ready to do the article, I’ll give you full behind-the-scenes access or anything you wish in return.’
Jill handed the woman her card. ‘Call me anytime you want. No bribery necessary, and I’m truly sorry about your father.’
‘Thank you. I know it’s silly, but I feel much better after talking to you.’ Alexis jotted a second number on her business card. ‘Here is my cell number. Feel free to call me if I can open any doors while you’re in Louisville.’
The two women shook hands, then Jill marched to the elevator before considering the myriad of doors she might need opened.
TWO
Jill entered Alexis Scott’s phone number into her cell directory in the unlikelihood the operations manager for Parker Estate would call. Never in a million years did she think Alexis would get in touch later that day. She and Michael had just finished a trolley tour around Louisville to familiarize themselves with the city and were back in their suite about to choose a restaurant for dinner when her phone rang.
‘Hello, Alexis?’ Jill asked.
‘Yeah, it’s me. Bet you didn’t think you’d hear from me so soon.’ Her voice sounded raspy, as though she’d been crying.
‘I told you anytime and I meant it. What can I do for you?’ Jill motioned to Michael to lower the TV volume.
‘I know this is a major imposition since you’re traveling with a videographer, but could you possibly swing by my place tonight?’ Alexis asked softly. ‘I need to talk more about what we discussed this afternoon, plus we can begin the preliminaries for our interview.’
Jill took less than a second to decide. ‘Of course. It would be no imposition whatsoever.’
Inferring the gist of the conversation, Michael frowned with his hands on his hips.
‘Thanks. I’m still at the office but I prefer to do this at home. You never know who could be listening at work. Got a pencil to jot down my address?’ Alexis recited the number and street. ‘My apartment is the top floor of the old carriage house behind my parents’ house. I’ll order pizza or anything you like. Can you be there in an hour?’
Jill gave her assurance, hung up and turned to Michael. ‘I know we planned to eat out, but Alexis Scott, the operatio
ns manager, wants to prepare for our interview. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get the inside story.’
‘I’ve heard those exact words before and they almost got you killed.’ Michael’s frown didn’t falter.
‘I know, but this is different. Since the death of the master distiller, Parker Estate has suspended tours—’
‘So we head to one of the other three distilleries and come back to them,’ he interrupted.
‘Alexis said if I pointed her in the right direction, she would give us full access to the distillery, not just what the tourists see, plus whatever else we want.’
‘Point her in what right direction?’ he asked.
Jill shifted her weight between hips. ‘Miss Scott doesn’t believe her father died of a heart attack. She thinks there could have been foul play.’
‘Oh, no, not again.’ Michael closed the distance between them in a few strides. ‘You need to stay away from her, before you end up in jail. I’ll go to the interview in your place.’
‘No way. I want to do the narrative while you shoot the footage.’ Jill resisted stomping her foot. ‘You’re overreacting. Alexis isn’t asking me to investigate. She wants to know how to get the police to take another look at his death. Plus she has some questions about funeral decorum. She’s aware I’m only a travel writer.’
Michael’s brows knit together over the bridge of his nose. ‘But do you know that?’
‘I do, Mikey.’ Jill glanced at her watch. ‘I need to change and leave. Can I borrow your car?’
‘Sure.’
‘If you don’t want to go out alone, order a burger and fries at the bar downstairs.’
‘Don’t worry about me. Just don’t let this woman drag you into something time-consuming. We have four distilleries to cover before we move on to another town.’
‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.’ Jill grabbed the keys to Michael’s car, made her way to the parking lot, punched the directions into the GPS, and soon left the city behind. In an area of rolling cornfields and green pastures, she paused at the lane marked Parker Estates. If the founder had named his whiskey after his ancestral home, estate hit the nail on the wooden head. A white split-rail fence enclosed acres and acres of land, far as the eye could see. At the entrance, a speaker mounted on a pole controlled whoever came and went through the iron gate.