Wine's Up?

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Wine's Up? Page 8

by Wendy Meadows


  “You’re under arrest for the murder of Reginald Danvers. Everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, the state will provide one for you. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?” Preston asked, reading Doris her Miranda rights.

  She nodded, sullen. Hillary stood gaping at Doris. The woman looked small, shrunken in on herself. When she had seen her with Jessica at Wine’s Up a few nights ago, the housekeeper had seemed just as distraught as Jessica, and Hillary had believed they both mourned the death of their loved one. It turned out that Doris had murdered Reginald, and even though Hillary had been the one to put two and two together, it was hard to imagine that someone she had brushed shoulders with several times could take the life of another.

  When Preston cuffed Doris, it was like it hit home, and she realized she was being arrested for murder.

  “He lost all my money!” Doris cried out, tears spilling over her cheeks. “He lost all of it and then he told everyone how he knew money, how he would never have put money into that investment. Do you know how much it hurts to be betrayed like that, to feel you can trust someone only for him to ruin your life?”

  The three women didn’t answer her. They didn’t know what to say.

  “What was I supposed to do?” she cried out.

  Preston took Doris to his police cruiser a few blocks down the road and drove her to the police station, where she would be held until they could take the next steps in convicting her. When they were gone, Hillary looked at Annabelle and Rose. She was happy that they had solved the mystery, but Doris’s pleas dampened it, by her obvious pain.

  “This doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would,” Hillary said. Rose nodded. Annabelle stepped closer and hugged her mom.

  10

  Preston stepped out of the police station the next Monday afternoon and breathed in the fresh sea breeze that wafted through the little town. The sun was out, birds chirped, and everything had gone back to normal.

  Reginald’s funeral had been that weekend. Everyone in town had attended, except Doris, who was in custody. Jessica had cried and cried when Preston had told her the news about Doris and what had happened to her husband. It would take a while for the woman to work through her husband’s death, and Preston had suggested Jessica see a bereavement counselor. He hoped she would take his advice.

  Now that they’d solved the mystery, Preston could breathe easy. For a moment in the investigation he had felt that he would never figure it out. He had to admit to himself that it was thanks to Hillary and her constant involvement in places where she shouldn’t have been that had helped him solve it. Hillary and that damn parrot.

  Preston had gone back with a tape recorder after they had arrested Doris to record the parrot. He’d taken a video with his phone as well. It had worried him that the parrot would forget the words he’d learned by the time the court date came up.

  After he’d done that, he’d gotten a sworn statement from Ms. Bricker, the secretary, that Doris had asked about the money in the will, and they set their evidence for court.

  Preston was happy not to be involved in the legal part of the process. It was bad enough having to arrest the victims and know that people were capable of such atrocities. He didn’t want to argue about it in front of a judge.

  Preston made his way to Something Special after leaving the station. When he walked through the door, Spot flapped his wings.

  “He’s a ladies’ man,” he said.

  Preston chuckled. He held a spray of wildflowers in his hand that he’d gotten from an obliging field.

  “Hello, Preston,” Hillary said, smiling. He handed her the flowers and she took them from him, smelling them. “These are lovely.”

  Preston glanced at the case with exotic flowers. They’d all come from a hothouse and he’d suspected she would like these more.

  Annabelle and Rose came out of the back room. Annabelle eyed the flowers, but Preston couldn’t tell if she was unhappy about them. Rose winked at Hillary.

  “So, everything’s wrapped up?” Hillary asked. She’d attended Reginald’s funeral at the small cemetery and had been glad that the man could finally rest in peace now that his killer had been found.

  “It is,” Preston said. “And those flowers are for you as thanks.”

  Hillary smiled, putting them in a vase. “For what?” she asked.

  Preston shook his head, smiling. She was acting coy.

  “I didn’t expect you to immerse yourself in the case, even after I told you to back off. I’m glad you did—if it weren’t for you, all of you,” he looked at the three ladies, “we might never have been able to solve this case. This will go to trial and Doris will get her punishment.”

  Hillary’s smile faded. She still felt for Doris. The woman took the wrong course, there was no arguing that, but she'd been desperate and didn't see another way out. She’d known she was in Reginald’s will so there was money to be had, and her need for money and her rage combined made for the perfect revenge plan. Or so she’d thought.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure, Preston,” Hillary said. “We’re all happy to help.”

  Preston fished in his pocket for a chocolate. He unwrapped it and walked to Spot.

  “And this is for ol’ Trusty over here who can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  Spot ate the chocolate. “More?” he asked, and everyone laughed.

  Preston turned back to Hillary.

  “I must ask you not to get this involved again, Hillary,” Preston said a little more sternly. “I don’t need a civilian detective on the loose in my town. It’s not the right way to go about it, and you were lucky you didn’t get into more trouble than you could get out of.”

  Hillary nodded. “I know. I won’t get too involved again. I don’t like calling this much attention to myself, anyway.”

  She smiled at Preston. She was telling him what he needed to hear, but if the same thing happened again, she would act in the same way. Something in her gut told her that she had made a bad decision to stay normal, uninvolved. She felt alive solving the case, and it was a thrill when all the pieces fit together. If it happened again? She would be right in there, under everyone’s feet, right where she didn’t belong.

  She was starting a new life, a new chapter after Matthew. Who was to say this wasn’t who she was now?

  “Well, I better be off,” Preston said. “There’s no immediate crime to solve, but the duties of a police officer never end. I came to thank you.”

  “Is that all?” Rose asked, speaking up for the first time.

  Preston blinked. It wasn’t all, in fact, but he felt unsure about asking Hillary in front of Annabelle. As if Rose knew, she called Annabelle to the back room with her, telling her she needed help with something. Annabelle followed Rose, leaving Hillary and Preston alone.

  “I know you said you wanted to be friends, and I respect that,” Preston said. “But if I can convince you otherwise, would you give me a chance?”

  Hillary thought about it. If Preston could convince her, then there would be no harm in trying for romance again.

  “You would have to do a superb job to convince me. I’m not easily swayed.”

  Preston nodded, grinning. This sounded like a challenge to him, and he never backed down from a challenge. He liked Hillary and he wanted to pursue her, and if he had to win her over, he would try to do so.

  “Well, how about we start slow, as friends?” he asked. He wanted to spend time with Hillary, get to know her as a person. Maybe, if she got to know him, too, she would change her mind. And it would be a good thing to take it slow, to let Annabelle warm up to the thought of him. Then he was sure he could win her over. For now, though, he was happy to have Hillary as a friend. A friend who wasn’t sore on the eyes to look at, a friend he liked to spend time with just a little more than all his other friends.

  “How about we start off with a coffee?” Preston asked.
“Minus the crime.”

  Hillary laughed and nodded. “I’d like that,” she said.

  But if there was a crime involved, Hillary wouldn’t complain. Coffee with a dash of crime—that sounded good to her.

  Thanks for Reading

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  About the Author

  Wendy Meadows is the USA Today bestselling author of many novels and novellas, from cozy mysteries to clean, sweet romances. Check out her popular cozy mystery series Sweetfern Harbor, Alaska Cozy and Sweet Peach Bakery, just to name a few.

  If you enjoyed this book, please take a few minutes to leave a review. Authors truly appreciate this, and it helps other readers decide if the book might be for them. Thank you!

  Get in touch with Wendy

  www.wendymeadows.com

  Read more by Wendy

  Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Series

  Nether Edge Mystery Series

  Chocolate Cozy Mystery Series

  Alaska Cozy Mystery Series

  Sweet Peach Bakery Cozy Series

  Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Series

  Candy Shop Mysteries

  Pineville Gazette Mystery Series

  Copyright © 2019 by Wendy Meadows

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

 

 

 


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