by Mary Ellis
Jill stamped her foot in frustration. ‘It only sounds the same because you lack imagination. Ask the workers what makes their distillery different from their competitors and you’ll hear plenty of fodder you can use. Stop being so dependent on me.’
‘But I thought we were partners.’ Michael gazed up with puppy-dog eyes.
‘We are partners, but we’re not joined at the hip.’ Jill softened her tone. ‘What would you do if I decide not to go back to Chicago?’
Michael jumped to his feet. ‘What went on in Roseville? Did Nick propose?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t been dating that long, but maybe I don’t feel comfortable about leaving two old ladies alone in that big house.’ Jill filled her travel mug and grabbed her purse. ‘We’ll talk more tonight, and don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere until you and I finish the bourbon tours of Kentucky.’ She held out her hand, palm up. ‘I don’t want to keep Alexis waiting. Keys, please?’
The moment he handed her the ring, Jill was out the door. She reached Parker Estate in record time and found the apartment door ajar like before. Bolting up the steps, Jill locked the door behind her to prevent uninvited interruptions.
‘Wow. That was fast.’ Alexis called from the kitchen. ‘Let’s work and eat at the table. I’ve got an egg and cheese casserole for us.’
This time Jill didn’t ask who made breakfast. Instead she carried her travel mug to the table and picked up a fork. ‘This looks delicious.’
‘My parents’ cook is wonderful. She can whip up anything in no time flat. While we eat, feel free to ask any questions you like. That will save time. Oh, and our public distillery tours will resume on Wednesday, if you’ll still be in town.’
Jill swallowed a mouthful of the delicious casserole. ‘I will be. I plan to stay as long as possible.’
‘Because Nick is here?’ Alexis concentrated on cutting her breakfast into small pieces.
‘Yes, partly because of him. And partly because I don’t want to leave you with so many questions about your dad.’
Alexis met her eye. ‘I’m grateful for that. Now let’s get your interview out of the way.’
Jill pulled out her notebook and verified the information she had learned online about the distillery. Then she asked a plethora of questions and finished up with the one she told Michael to ask. ‘What makes the Parker Estate process different from your competitors?’
Alexis smiled with all the self-confidence that money can buy. ‘We’ve had one hundred years to make sure we’re nothing like our competitors.’ She laughed joyously. ‘We mix, ferment and distill in small batches – ten or less at a time and use a double finishing process – in oak barrels first, then the bourbon ages in port casks and the rye in rum barrels for a truly unique flavor. To my knowledge, no other distillery does that.’
‘None that I know of,’ Jill chimed, hoping to hide her limited knowledge.
‘We also treat our customers with the upmost respect here, both the novice sampler and the aficionado. We offer evening cocktail classes for both bourbon and rye drinkers, and let customers fill bottles straight from the source if they so choose. Our goal is to turn every tour guest into a lifelong fan of our products.’ Alexis concluded with another high-wattage smile.
Jill tucked away her notebook. ‘I believe that’s it. On Wednesday, my videographer and I will take the tour and complete our article on Parker Estate.’
Alexis pulled two purple cards from a kitchen drawer. ‘Use these press passes for the tour. That will save you twenty bucks each. Don’t forget to wear comfortable clothes since parts of the plant aren’t air-conditioned, and no high heels or open-toed shoes. Oh, and I’m sorry you ran into my mother. Feel free to roam anywhere you want afterward, as I promised.’
‘Thanks.’ Jill slipped the passes into her purse. ‘Have you given any more thought to potential enemies of your father, such as recently fired employees?’
Alexis’s chin snapped up. ‘In a company as large as ours, I’m sure there have been. But it’s hard to imagine someone committing murder because they were fired.’
Jill stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘Unfortunately, people have killed over far stupider reasons than that. Do you have access to employment records?’
‘Of course, but they’re not online. We’d have to go to my office.’
‘Since we finished the interview, the rest of my day is yours. Michael is researching at another distillery.’
Alexis jumped up, kicked off her sneakers, and slipped on high heels. When she grabbed a flaming red blazer from the closet, her T-shirt and black yoga pants assumed a professional appearance. ‘I’m ready. Let’s take my car since it’s faster.’
That goes without saying.
Jill buckled her seatbelt and they were soon waved into a special section of the employee lot, allowing easy access into the corporate headquarters. From the moment Jill stepped out of the BMW, she had a hard time keeping up with the executive, despite wearing far more sensible shoes. Alexis marched up one corridor and down the next, barely acknowledging the employees’ friendly greetings. Once inside her office, Alexis shut the outer door to the hallway in a hurry.
‘Good morning, Miss Scott. I didn’t think you would be in until tomorrow.’ The assistant offered a stack of cards and messages.
‘Good morning, Roxie. For all intents and purposes, I’m not here. My friend and I are here on a personal matter.’
‘You got it, Miss Scott.’ The assistant dropped the stack on her desk and returned to her computer.
Behind the closed inner door, Alexis slumped behind her desk while Jill took the upholstered chair. ‘Are you training for a marathon?’ she asked.
‘Sorry ’bout that. I learned the faster I walk the less likely I’d be interrupted with non-essential stuff. Otherwise it could take thirty minutes to get from the parking lot to my office.’ Wasting no time, Alexis turned on her computer.
Jill used the moment to appreciate artwork on the walls. ‘These are really good. Are they prints or giclees?’
‘They’re originals done by a friend of mine. No one makes giclees unless you’re already famous.’
‘Fame should only be a matter of time.’ Jill walked over to a painting of a bridge over the Mississippi at dawn. ‘The details and colors are incredible.’
Alexis smiled above her monitor. ‘I will pass along your praise. Come look at this.’
Jill walked around the desk to study a computer spreadsheet of data in a very small font. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘Wait a sec and I’ll create a sublist and enlarge the font.’ She tapped a few keys and the screen bloomed with names, address, and pertinent information. ‘This is a list of every employee who recently retired, quit or was fired during the last twelve months. Each had been given an exit packet. Look at that.’ Alexis tapped the screen. ‘If the employee had been dismissed, it lists the reason and the name of his or her immediate supervisor.’
Jill leaned over Alexis’s shoulder. ‘This is exactly what we need.’
‘I hope you don’t have a photographic memory. This is all confidential information.’ Alexis lowered her brows.
‘I can’t remember a shopping list of three items,’ Jill said, shaking her head. ‘Don’t worry. Everyone’s privacy will be respected. Print that out, then Nick and I will have a place to start.’
With list in hand they headed to the door, but Alexis’s assistant beat them to it. ‘Sorry, Miss Scott,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think your condition of “I’m not here” included the police.’
‘It did not. Thank you, Roxie. Please come in Lieutenant Grimes. I’ve been expecting your call.’ When the detective moved towards the chair she had just vacated, Jill took a position by the wall.
‘I prefer to deliver this kind of news in person.’ Grimes grasped the back of the chair but didn’t sit. ‘The M.E. received the toxicology report and has determined your father was poisoned. His death has been officially ruled a homicide. I will be
personally handling the investigation.’
For several minutes, Alexis just stood there. ‘Although this is what I expected, the news still comes as quite a shock.’
‘That’s understandable,’ Grimes murmured. Then she turned her attention to Jill. ‘May I ask what’s in your hand, Miss Curtis?’
Jill gazed down at the paper. How could the cop know this had anything to do with the murder?
Alexis answered the question for her. ‘Jill suggested I print out a list of employees who’d been recently fired, in case Dad had made some recent enemies.’
Grimes walked over and pulled the list from Jill’s fingers. ‘I could’ve sworn you told me you were a travel writer.’
‘I am,’ Jill said, ‘but crime-solving is sort of my hobby.’
‘Then may I suggest bird-watching? We don’t like civilians interfering with police business.’
‘We were only trying to help.’ Alexis joined Jill’s side.
‘I’ll go through this list of names to see if anything pops out, Miss Scott. I’ll be in touch. Have a nice day, Miss Curtis.’ The detective marched out of the office as though on a mission.
As soon as they were sure Grimes was gone, Alexis hit the print button on her computer. ‘I never said I wouldn’t make another copy.’
‘Good idea, and could you text the list to Nick? He can get started while you drive me back to my car.’ Jill punched in Nick’s number. ‘I’ll bring him up to date, then he and I have some work to do.’
SEVEN
When Alexis parked next to Jill’s car in the driveway, Jill spotted exactly what her rather blasé story about Parker Estate Distillery needed – a human interest angle.
‘Who is that older man with a dog in your parents’ garden?’ Jill asked. ‘I saw him with you at the funeral.’
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ Alexis shouted and waved out the window. The man waved back, while the dog gave a small yip. ‘He’s my grandfather and actually, the house is still his, not my parents’. Grandpa hasn’t signed it over to Mom yet.’
‘He’s the Robert Parker who started the distillery?’ Jill asked.
‘It was started by his father, Robert Parker, Senior. But it was small and barely survived Prohibition.’
‘I would love to interview him. Is that at all possible?’
Alexis slipped an arm around Jill’s shoulder. ‘For you, I’d make just about anything possible. I’m so grateful you believed in me about my dad.’
Jill flushed. ‘But I haven’t solved anything yet.’
‘No, but if you hadn’t stopped the cremation, Lieutenant Grimes wouldn’t be tracking down a murderer right now.’ Alexis used the key fob to lock her car. ‘The thing is Grandpa is getting forgetful. They haven’t nailed down whether it’s dementia or not. All I know is his memory of the past remains top-notch, but he can’t remember what he ate for lunch today.’
Jill pulled out her notebook. ‘Maybe his lunch wasn’t memorable. Anyway, it’s the past that I’m interested in. Readers love to hear the history behind a family business. It gives them something to identify with, whether it’s a chocolate bar or a snifter of bourbon. If you don’t think answering questions might upset him, I’d love a few minutes of his time.’
‘Are you kidding? Old people love rehashing the past. Grandpa will probably tie you up and never let you leave.’ Alexis laughed and practically dragged Jill toward the back entrance of the mansion. ‘We’ll go inside through the kitchen – a sure way to avoid my mother. She doesn’t cook and has no interest in seeing how it’s done. But I will warn you, my mother is overprotective of her dad, for no reason I can see.’
Jill followed Alexis into the kitchen, through a well-stocked pantry, and down the hallway to a wing that apparently had been added after the mansion had been built. Jill barely drew a breath for fear of Mrs Scott, while Alexis provided family backstory along the way.
‘We’re entering a classic mother-in-law suite – living room, bedroom, small kitchen and bath,’ she explained. ‘Mom added this on for her parents when Grandpa was forced to step down as head of Parker Estate.’
‘Who forced him?’ Jill asked.
‘Who do you think? My mother! She insisted Grandpa wasn’t healthy enough to work and so my father took the helm. Shortly afterwards, my grandmother died.’
‘How awful,’ Jill said. ‘Was it triggered by her husband’s demotion?’
‘Not really. Grandma had been struggling with cancer for a long time.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Jill murmured inadequately.
‘Don’t be. Grandma is out of pain, and Grandpa loves still living on the estate, but far removed from activities in the big house.’ Alexis imbued the final words with emphasis. ‘Grandpa cooks his own meals, putters in the garden, and watches what he wants on TV, as loud as he likes. He joins the family only when and if he chooses.’ Alexis knocked twice, then opened the door to the suite. ‘Grandpa?’ she called. ‘It’s me, Lexi. I brought someone who wants to meet you.’
A white-haired, elderly man, the same man who was just in the garden, pushed himself up from the recliner. ‘Who would want to meet me?’ He muted the TV with the remote.
‘I do, sir. I’m Jill Curtis, a journalist from Roseville, Kentucky.’ How easily her new hometown slipped from her mouth. ‘I’m writing a travel log about the bourbon distillery tours of Kentucky. And in Louisville, my prime focus is Parker Estate.’ She bent down to pat the dog’s head.
The man’s wizened face blossomed into a smile. ‘What a good choice you have made, young lady. Sit, sit, both of you!’ Robert Parker pointed at the chintz couch as he scratched the dog behind the ears. ‘This is Buster, formerly known as Buster-the-Terror. But old age has settled him down quite a bit. How do you know my beautiful granddaughter?’
‘I … met Alexis while researching distilleries. We became immediate friends.’
‘How could you not?’ Robert slapped his knees. ‘Lexi, dear girl, make us some coffee and find us cookies in the cupboard.’
‘Coming right up, Grandpa.’ Alexis strode toward the tiny kitchen.
‘Now, what did you want to know, Julie?’
‘It’s Jill, sir, and I’m interested in the early days of the Parker Estate Distillery. May I tape our interview while I ask a few questions?’
‘Of course, you can. The statute of limitations ran out long ago for my daddy’s crimes, even if he were still alive.’ He hooted with laughter.
Jill switched on the recorder. ‘I understand the Parker Estate brand was started by Robert Senior before the Great Depression.’
Grandpa’s blue eyes twinkled with delight. ‘Yes and no. There certainly wasn’t any Parker Estate back then. My father owned a small distillery in a seedy part of downtown. When that part of Louisville burned to ground, Dad didn’t have much to lose. He moved Parker Bourbon, as it was known then, to a secret location underneath a profitable dry goods store. The owner of the building took the rent in whiskey, and believe me he was well paid over the years.’ He pulled on his white mustache. ‘During Prohibition, Dad also ran a small speakeasy six nights a week in an abandoned building down the street. That’s how the brand, as you call it, managed to survive.’ Grandpa settled back in the recliner as nostalgia took him to another place, another time. ‘I was just a baby, but from what I heard, Dad’s speakeasy wasn’t like the fancy dives you see in movies, with pretty gals in short dresses, high heels and diamond tiaras in their hair. Dad served our bourbon and draught beer at ten barstools and two tables. His joint was for working men who needed a bracer after a hard day on the docks or in the foundry or in some hellish factory. Those were hard times back then. The only women who entered came to drag her husband home by his ear.’
Jill sat mesmerized by the man in a herringbone cardigan and penny loafers as she visualized the speakeasy through his vivid description. ‘I can just picture this place,’ she enthused. ‘Too bad we don’t have a time machine.’
‘If we did, I’d jump in it wi
th you.’ Alexis set a tray with three mugs and a plate of cookies on the coffee table.
‘My dad called the joint Silky’s, for no reason other than he liked the sound of it.’ Grandpa reached for a mug, as did Jill.
‘That’s a great name.’ Jill added milk from a small pitcher.
‘Well, Silky’s gave my dad the courage to continue making bourbon during America’s darkest days – the Great Depression. When they finally rescinded Prohibition in 1933, Dad bought the buildings where Parker Estate is produced today. Real estate was real cheap back then, but Dad was still taking a chance. But as you can see, his vision and his courage paid off.’ He bobbed his head toward the expanse of rolling fields beyond the window.
‘Did he build this beautiful home?’ she asked.
Alexis answered for him. ‘Great-granddad bought all the land and a farmhouse. Corn and rye were grown here for the distillery, but unfortunately he didn’t live long enough to see his dream completed.’ She leaned over and kissed the top of Robert’s head. ‘Grandpa had this house built and gave the old house to his farm manager. He also improved the land and upgraded the distillery. He made Parker Estate into the profitable business it is today.’
Robert beamed at his granddaughter. ‘I wanted to name you, Lexi, as my successor. But your mother insisted that your father be put in charge.’
‘You know I wasn’t ready yet.’ Alexis planted a second kiss on his forehead.
‘Stop fawning over me, girl. You’re embarrassing me in front of your friend, Miss Custis.’
Jill let the minor name change pass. ‘I’m intrigued by your story, sir. My readers will love this. I’m also a little envious of the relationship you two share. My grandmother just moved to Kentucky from Chicago. I want this kind of closeness with her.’
Grandpa took two cookies from the plate and ate one whole. ‘It’s easy enough if you make the time. That’s how Lexi is different from my daughter. Rose is always in a hurry, always has something important to do.’