Wine's Up?

by Wendy Meadows

“What fight?” Hillary asked.

  “Oh,” Rose said, shrugging even though she felt smug that she knew something the others didn’t yet. “Mr. Sheffield lives right next door to the Danvers. He was the one who heard Jessica screaming the night Reggie was killed and called the police.”

  “He heard her screaming but didn’t hear the explosion?” Annabelle asked.

  “He came home only a few minutes before Jessica did,” Rose said. “He was chasing the Danvers’s dog—I guess Doris had left the gate open and it ran out. It happens all the time, Doris should have known to close it. Mr. Sheffield complains about their dog all the time, how it’s always getting out and—”

  “Rose—what about the fight?”

  “Oh! Well, he also reported that the two of them had a huge fight the night before—a screaming match. He heard them mention divorce and spite.”

  “Divorce,” Hillary said. She couldn’t imagine wanting to walk away from the man you promised to love for the rest of your life. Then again, she also couldn’t imagine being unfaithful. She couldn’t picture doing something like that to someone she loved.

  “If it’s a divorce lawyer, it means Jessica was ready to throw in the towel. But she must have had a specific reason to do it now. Maybe this lawyer will know something or have something on file,” Hillary speculated.

  Annabelle and Rose both nodded. The three of them were in cahoots now, working together to find answers. Hillary felt like they were a little trio, partners in solving a crime. She didn’t think Preston would be thrilled with her if he knew, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Why don’t you take gift baskets to the lawyer’s office?” Rose suggested. “Sometimes Newmark and Lewis get gifts to thank them for their service.”

  Hillary looked at Rose.

  “It will only seem right that the owner of Something Special would deliver them,” Annabelle added, catching on to what Rose was suggesting. If Hillary took the baskets to the offices, perhaps she could get in there and look around.

  “It’s a pity Mr. Lewis is out of the office this afternoon.” Rose smiled at the two women. She loved being a part of this, handing out the information she was so good at getting.

  Hillary knew what her daughter and her friend were suggesting. If she could get in there and find something that would count as evidence, she could prove that Jessica was behind all of this. And taking gift baskets was the perfect idea.

  “How long will Mr. Lewis be out for?” Hillary asked.

  Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. He meets his wife for lunch but sometimes they spend the afternoon together and he doesn’t come back to the office until the next day.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “I would say you have at least two hours to deliver those baskets.”

  “I’ll get them ready,” Annabelle offered and hurried to the back room. At first, being a part of this little investigation had been to keep an eye on her mom, to keep Hillary busy. As more information came up, Annabelle became engrossed and now she was just as curious as the other two about who could have killed Reginald Danvers. She hadn’t known the man, but she hoped that whoever did it was rightfully punished.

  When the baskets were ready, Hillary prepared to leave. The baskets were beautiful—one had flowers in it, exotic flowers from their display case. She would give that to the secretary. The other contained cigars, a box of chocolate, and a small bottle of bourbon. It was a very masculine basket.

  Annabelle handed Hillary her purse. “Just walk in there with confidence and you’ll be fine.”

  “And if you’re not, improvise,” Rose added with a smile.

  Hillary was more than a little nervous. Asking questions about the case differed greatly from snooping around someone’s office for information.

  “What if they won’t let me into the office?” Hillary asked. “What do I do then?”

  “Create a diversion,” Rose answered.

  Hillary looked around, searching for an idea as to what she could do, and her eyes fell on Spot. The parrot looked back at her with a glassy eye. If it came down to it, Hillary could always let the bird fly free to create a little chaos. And everyone who knew about the shop knew about Spot—it wouldn’t be strange that she took him with her. It was perfect.

  “Let’s go on an adventure,” Hillary said, walking to Spot.

  “I think to die would be a great adventure,” Spot squawked, mimicking Peter Pan. Rose and Annabelle laughed.

  “That’s the last thing I need to hear from you,” Hillary said, letting Spot perch on her shoulder.

  “Winner winner chicken dinner,” Spot replied.

  Hillary shook her head, glanced over her shoulder at the other two, and then she was off with her baskets.

  The offices of Newmark & Lewis were luxurious—although nothing like the offices she’d been to after Matthew had died in the big city—but they still had a taste of small-town life to them. The smell of the ocean was thick in the air when Hillary pushed through the door.

  The building was one of the tallest buildings around and it housed four different businesses. Comprised of the entire Business District of Rosemary Harbor, it was the town’s pride and joy.

  Once Hillary was in the lobby—complete with checkered floors and brown paneled walls—she announced to the building’s receptionist that she had a delivery for Mr. Lewis. They sent her up to the sixth floor without having to give any other explanation than showing her delivery clipboard. In the elevator, Spot flapped his wings without taking off.

  “Where are we going? What are we doing?” Spot asked.

  Hillary shook her head. “We’re doing the right thing,” she said to the parrot, trying to convince herself. She would not hurt anyone by finding out what Jessica had wanted to talk to Mr. Lewis about. She wanted answers, to figure out the puzzle.

  On the sixth floor, the doors slid open, and Hillary walked across brown industrial carpets to a wooden desk with granite tops.

  “Can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked. She had blood-red lips, blood-red fingernails and a friendly smile.

  “I have a delivery for Mr. Lewis from a client. He’s ordered through Something Special.”

  “Mr. Lewis is out at the moment. I’m his secretary. Can I sign for them?”

  Hillary nodded. “These are for you,” she said, pointing to the basket with the flowers.

  The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, I don’t usually get a gift. These are beautiful.”

  “They’re from our new range, fresh in this morning.”

  Spot tipped his head to the side. “Just for you from the case, to win you over,” Spot squawked. Hillary fought the urge to squirm. The bird would give her away. She stiffened, watching the secretary. But the woman laughed.

  “You brought a sidekick, I see,” she said.

  “To keep away those lonely nights,” Spot answered her, and the secretary laughed again.

  Hillary smiled. “He’s a real treasure, keeps things interesting,” she said. “Can I put this on Mr. Lewis’s desk? It’s always nice to get a surprise from a happy client.”

  “Of course,” the secretary said. “It’s much better than me showing it to him the moment he walks through the door. Set it up on the desk, I’m sure you know what to do.”

  Hillary nodded. “This is what I do well,” she said.

  The secretary picked up her flowers. “I will get these in some water. I don’t want them to wilt, they’re so beautiful.”

  Hillary smiled and watched the woman walk away. It would take her a while, Hillary hoped. She rushed to Mr. Lewis’s office door, the one the secretary had gestured to when she’d suggested Hillary set it up herself. Once inside the office, Hillary closed the door behind her.

  The office was as luxurious as one would expect of a lawyer’s office, with plush carpets, the same paneled walls as in the lobby, and a live plant in the corner. Paintings on the wall completed the picture. There was a lot of money to be made in divorce law. Mr. Lewis handled more tha
n just divorce. Maybe having a finger in every pie did the trick.

  She put the basket on the desk. Where was she going to start? She had no idea what she was looking for. Spot flew off her shoulder and sat on the desk, watching her.

  “What’s up, Nancy Drew?” Spot asked.

  First, Hillary looked through the papers on the desk. There were documents about anything and everything and for a moment it looked like too much to sift through. A note pad with some question on the side caught her eye—questions about a prenup and a will with Danvers’s name at the top. Hillary read through it. Although it wasn’t much, it was something.

  She went through the drawers next, looking for a file of some sort. Nothing turned up, and Hillary was panicking that she was running out of time, that she would have to leave the office finding nothing at all.

  “An upside-down hand can never be full,” Spot commented.

  “I don’t even know what you’re saying,” Hillary hissed at the parrot. It was just being a nuisance. She should have left the bird at home. It was watching her, offering pointless commentary, and those little glass eyes seemed judgmental as the parrot followed her movements with quick jerks of his head.

  When there was nothing to be found in the desk drawers, Hillary spotted a file cabinet. She hurried over to it. They locked it, so she went through the drawers again, searching for a key. It took up a lot of time, but she needed to get into the cabinet. When she couldn’t find a key, she decided she had to break into it. She eyed the paperclips on the desk, wondering if she could pick the lock. Someone locked the cabinet for a reason—there had to be important documents in it.

  “Lovely,” Hillary heard the secretary say on the other side of the door. She was back with her flowers, putting them on display, no doubt. Hillary was out of time. She wanted to look through the files, but she didn’t want to get caught.

  Hillary grabbed Spot and the parrot squawked his complaint. She opened the door and shoved him through it, letting him loose in Mr. Lewis’s reception area. Hillary listened for the secretary to squeal before she hurried back, setting everything straight again. She wouldn’t have enough time to break into the file cabinet. Spot was only going to buy her a few minutes. It was a pity—she wished she would have been able to find out more. The trip and the two gift baskets seemed to have offered nothing at all.

  Hillary fixed up the desk and laid out the basket so that it looked like it did in their shop display. When she was happy, she headed back to the door. She took a deep breath, thinking of a quick excuse about why she might have been in the office longer than expected before she opened the door and stepped out of the office.

  The secretary sat on one of the chairs in the waiting area looking disheveled and alarmed.

  “Are you all right?” Hillary asked, walking to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your bird escaped and caused chaos.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Hillary said, looking around. When she couldn’t see Spot, she frowned. “Where is he?”

  “He headed down the stairwell, probably looking for someone else to torment when he got sick of me.”

  The secretary sounded upset. Hillary couldn’t blame her—Spot was a darling on a good day but when he was in a mood, the bird could be a real pain. She felt bad for letting Spot out of the office to provide a distraction for her, but what was done, was done.

  Hillary hurried toward the elevator and rode to the first floor before working her way back up the stairwell, hoping to catch Spot as he came down. She hoped she could find him before he left the building. He could be anywhere by now. She stopped on every floor, checking in with other businesses to find out if he’d disrupted their days. When she reached the top floor again, there was Spot, sitting on the windowsill just outside the offices of Newmark & Lewis like he hadn’t done a thing in the world.

  “Lucy, I’m home,” he said.

  “Quiet,” Hillary reprimanded him and let him sit on her shoulder again. Through the office doors, Hillary spotted Doris, the Danvers’s housekeeper. What on earth would she be doing at the lawyer’s office? It seemed like too much of a coincidence that she was here—she didn’t need a lawyer. Unless Jessica had sent her on an errand. Still, seeing a lawyer was something Jessica would have wanted to handle in person. Hillary turned around, still deep in thought, when she crashed into a broad chest.

  “Cleanup on aisle four,” Spot squawked a moment before Hillary realized she’d run into Preston Davis. He stood in front of her, tall and broad and puzzled.

  “Hello, Hillary,” he said. His puzzled expression turned to one of suspicion.

  “Oh, hello, Preston,” she said. “How are you?”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked without answering her. She’d been poking her nose into his business and he felt like this was more of the same.

  “I delivered gift baskets for Mr. Lewis. Happy client, I believe.”

  She smiled at Preston, who narrowed his eyes at her, not believing it. Hillary knew he would ask the secretary and she knew that so far, the woman would back up her story. She hoped Preston wouldn’t find out more—he seemed unhappy to see her there, and she didn’t want him to be mad at her.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I still have a few more deliveries to take care of, and Rose and Annabelle are holding down the fort at the store. I’ll see you around.”

  Preston nodded as Hillary walked past him.

  “I’ve got my eye on you,” Spot said on Hillary’s shoulder, looking back at Preston. It mortified Hillary. The parrot was saying things that were more and more impertinent and she regretted bringing him with her. Although she had to admit that he had helped with a diversion when she’d needed it. It was a pity, though, that the whole thing had amounted to nothing.

  8

  Hillary left an unhappy Preston behind in the building of Newmark & Lewis and headed out to her car. She still had more things to deliver for the shop, but after searching for clues, it wasn’t as exciting.

  She was a little let down that she had found nothing interesting in the office. She’d hoped for something spectacular—a file that would divulge damning information, a reason Jessica would want to hide her alibi about being at the lawyer’s offices on the day he died. She’d hoped, deep down, that she would be the one to crack the case. Preston had a whole team of officers investigating, she imagined, and Hillary was just a civilian. What would she be able to do?

  Although, she had done quite a lot already, she felt.

  After delivering the last of her baskets, Hillary returned to Something Special. She parked and walked through the door with Spot on her shoulder, walking straight to his perch.

  “You’ve created more than enough trouble for one day,” she said to the bird, who hopped back into his cage.

  “I could say the same for you,” Preston said behind Hillary, and she spun around.

  “Oh, I didn’t expect you,” Hillary said, her heart thudding in her chest. She glanced at Annabelle, who stood helpless behind the counter, and at Rose, who shrugged at her from the back of the shop.

  “I imagine not,” Preston said. He leaned on the counter with his elbow, his stance relaxed but his face tight with tension. He’d taken off his hat and it lay on the counter next to him, his steel-gray hair sticking up a little after wearing it. “What were you doing at the law offices earlier?”

  He was unhappy. He knew Hillary was up to something. Since he’d taken her along to see Lauren, she had gotten it in her head that she could help and she’d been snooping around wherever she could. Preston liked Hillary—she was smart and funny and her deductive reasoning was fantastic. But she wasn’t a police officer, and he was uncomfortable with her being involved in his murder case. Maybe it was a matter of male pride, but he didn’t like it.

  “I told you,” Hillary said. “I was there to deliver two baskets from a client.”

  “Yeah? Who was the client?” Preston asked.

  Hillary swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought that far, h
adn’t expected Preston to question her about it. She had no idea who in town could have been clients to make up a name.

  “Yeah,” Preston continued when Hillary couldn’t answer him. “The secretary, Ms. Bricker, also has no clue who they’re from. No card on either basket. And seeing that Mr. Lewis’s clients are usually very clear to show who they are, that made me believe that the baskets were a front.”

  Hillary didn’t answer Preston. She wanted to deny it, but she didn’t want to lie about it—Preston was her friend and an officer of the law. It was wrong in every way to pretend she’d been there with honest intentions.

  “Okay,” she said. “You’ve got me. They were a front.” She added nothing else to that. The way she saw it, she only had to answer his direct questions with direct answers. Preston had refused to give her information about Jessica and her alibi. If he would be like that about it, she would not tell him anything she knew, either. At least, not until she was sure about what she knew. She didn’t want to seem like a fool who was chasing a dead lead, and she knew that, since she wasn’t in law enforcement, she was overstepping the line a little. Or a lot.

  Preston looked like he was getting angry. He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other and looked at Annabelle and Rose.

  “I suppose this also involved the two of you?” he asked them.

  Annabelle didn’t answer. She wasn’t involved as much as that she’d stumbled across information on Jessica’s phone and related it to her mother. She had also helped prepare the baskets and the three of them had agreed how Hillary would do it. She was burning with curiosity about what Hillary had found out, too. Something must have happened if Preston was here. He’d arrived a short while before Hillary, and he’d insisted he would wait until he could speak to her before saying anything.

  “What do I know?” Rose answered Preston. “I’m just an old gossip, picking up bits and pieces around town.” She smiled at Preston, who sighed. He wouldn’t get anything out of her; she had nothing new to offer. Everything she’d added to Hillary’s little investigation was what she’d heard other people say around town. It wasn’t necessary to do much sleuthing when people were so eager to talk about what they’d seen and heard.