What if she was in trouble?
Chapter Eighteen
I raced through the hills and valleys as fast as I could. My heart felt like it was in my throat from the stress of the situation. I pulled out my cellphone, but in the hurry of trying to use my car charger it managed to fall between the seat and center storage bin.
“Ugh...” I yelled aloud.
I hated that thing. How was it that every time I tried to use my phone, apply lipstick or eye shadow it would always fall in that one area that no human hand is small enough to reach? I stuck my hand as far under the seat as possible, trying desperately to find my phone, but it was no use.
I’d already tried that too many times. The only way to get anything from under that seat was to pull over, open the door and play a game of Where’s Waldo with the floorboard of my car. I didn’t have time for that though. I needed to get to her house as fast as possible, and after nearly careening off the road I decided it wasn’t worth it, and that I would just have to drive there.
Luckily it wasn’t too far, Aunt Hannah’s house sat just a few miles south of the county line and with the speed I was going it would only be minutes before I arrived. Normally I would never drive so high above the speed limit, but sometimes you just have to break the rules, even if those rules are laws.
“Aunt Hannah!” I yelled, pushing through her front door like a battering ram.
I stopped dead in my tracks when on her table I noticed a bottle of Picpoul Blanc, and tied around it was a big red bow. It was a bottle from my private collection, the very same bottle that Sherriff Grammar told me tested positive for poison. And if just the sight of it wasn’t enough to stop my heart, it was also uncorked…
“Aunt Hannah!” I yelled again, rushing into the kitchen.
“Zara?” She said from behind me. “Heavens child. What’s going on?”
“Oh…” I said. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
“Where were you?” She asked. “You were supposed to be here two hours ago. I was so worried I called the police.”
“My battery died.” I said. “You didn’t drink that wine, did you?”
“Almost…” She said. “But then Sherriff Grammar stopped me.”
“Sherriff Grammar is here?” I asked.
“I am.” He walked into the kitchen.
“Why would you send me poison wine?” Aunt Hannah asked.
“I… I didn’t.”
“I know this wine. It’s from our family’s private collection. I didn’t even know we still had any left.”
“Yeah…” I said. “It was in the cellar. Grandpa kept some for himself.”
“When I saw it arrive I thought maybe you had some good news to tell me, so I opened it.” She sat down. “Just as I was pouring it Sherriff Grammar came to respond to my call. Once he saw the bottle, well...”
“Yeah.” I said. “But I didn’t send this!”
“Then who did?” She asked.
“I don’t know.” I replied. “I was robbed. They took the entire collection.”
“You didn’t report any robbery.” Sherriff Grammar said.
“I know that. I didn’t want any more bad press.”
“Listen little lady.” He said. “I made a few calls. This wine is worth a small fortune. If it were me, and this had gone missing I’d be screaming it from the rooftops until I’d gotten it back.”
“I know it sounds strange.” I said. “But with everything that’s been going on it just didn’t seem like the best thing to do.”
“Well.” He said. “As it stands now, it looks like you sent a bottle of what you knew to be poisoned wine to your aunt…”
“No.” I said. “I would never- Aunt Hannah, surely you don’t beli-“
“Not for a minute.” She interrupted. “You say you didn’t send it, then I believe you. You say you were robbed, then by golly you were robbed. I don’t care what anyone says.”
“Thank you.” I said, breathing a small sigh of relief.
“That’s very kind of your aunt.” Sherriff Grammar said. “But with the way evidence keeps piling up against you it’s getting harder and harder not to bring you in.”
“I know that.” I said. “But I’m working on it.”
“What do you mean, you’re working on it?” He asked.
“I mean just that.” I said. “I’m trying to figure this out. I’m trying to find the person responsible for Conner Ford and Charley Roberts death.”
“You’re admitting to tampering in an open investigation?” He raised both eyebrows.
“No.” I said. “I’m doing my own thing. I’m not messing with your investigation.”
“If you’re doing anything, anything at all then you’re messing with my investigation.” He stepped closer to me. “Zara Myers… I’m afraid you’re under arrest.”
“For what?” Aunt Hannah leapt to her feet.
“Tampering with an investigation, suspicion of murder, suspicion of distributing poison wine… need I continue?”
“You can’t do this!” I said. “I don’t belong in jail!”
“That’s for the judge to decide now.” He said.
“You can’t be serious.” I said.
“I’m afraid I am, Ms. Myers.” He pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. “The evidence is too much to ignore at this point.”
“You honestly think my niece would try and poison me?” Hannah chimed in.
“It’s my job to be suspicious.” He said. “And with that wine showing up here just as she happens to be two hours late with a dead battery… If I hadn’t been here you’d likely be dead.”
“Bobby Grammar.” Hannah’s tone deepened. “You put those handcuff away this instant.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He replied, placing the cold metal cuff around my wrists.
It was almost as if time moved in slow motion as Sherriff Grammar took me by the arm and escorted me through my aunt house, out the door and into the back seat of his police cruiser. It all seemed so surreal… over the last two weeks a million different things that I could have never expected all washed over me at the same time.
The same winding roads and rolling hills I’d always loved just looked so different from the back seat of that car and honestly I wasn’t sure how to process all of it. Who knows, maybe a night in jail would do me good. At this point, it seemed about par for the course anyway.
Chapter Nineteen
“Can I get you anything?” Sherriff Grammar asked. “Perhaps a glass of water?”
The room was small and bare, save for a grey metal table with two chairs, one on each side. The only light came from a blinking fluorescent bar overhead. In the movies it was always police stations, asylums and hospitals that seemed to share this particular lighting trend. I always wondered why no one ever took the time to replace the lights once they’d failed.
Perhaps they were all just trying to set a mood, to make you feel like your time was limited, or that at the end of the hallway, hiding in the shadows, someone was watching. At least, that’s what it felt like to me…
“I’m fine.” I said. “Let’s just get this over with…”
“Okay.” He answered. “You say you weren’t the one that sent that bottle to your aunt, correct?”
“Right.” I said.
“Then how do you suppose it got there?” He asked.
We spent the next hour going over everything that happened over the last couple of weeks. I tried my best to explain everything I could, leaving out of course what happened with Daniel at his house. I’d made him a promise and I was going to keep it, even if it did land me in jail for a little while.
Telling him the entire truth probably would have been the wiser choice but that just didn’t feel right. The entire thing was getting so out of hand that I could barely keep track of what was going on anyway. If’ I’d have told him about Daniel then who’s to say he wouldn’t throw him in jail too.
And if we were both in jail then there was no
way anyone was ever going to get to the bottom of this mess. All I had to do was hold on a little while longer. I was innocent in all of this, my wine wasn’t poisonous no matter what anyone said and one way or another I was going to prove it.
“You’ve gotta be straight with me.” The Sherriff said. “Otherwise this is going to go on all night.”
“I am being straight with you.” I answered. “I just don’t know what you want me to say…”
“I want you to tell me how that bottle found its way from your house to your aunts table. Why did you send it?”
“Listen!” I snapped. “Why would I try and poison my own aunt?”
“I don’t know.” He said. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Well you’re gonna have to look elsewhere.” I said. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the answers you’re looking for.”
Sherriff Grammar looked at me for a long minute. His eyes staring silently into my own. I wasn’t sure what he was hoping to get from me other than confused. Then, in a quick and silent motion he did something unexpected.
“Alright.” He flipped off the tape recorder. “I’m going to level with you, Zara.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you killed Charley Roberts, and I also don’t believe you sent your aunt that poisonous wine.”
“Then why am I here?” I asked.
“Because.” He said. “Evidence and suspicion keeps mounting against you. And though you might not admit it I think you know something you’re not telling me.”
“I don’t.” I said.
“Unless you come off that information I’m not going to be able to help you. No one will.”
“There is no other information.” I said.
“Then where were you tonight? What were you doing spying on those people in Rizzy’s the other night?”
“I was waiting for a friend.” I said. “I told you that.”
“You honestly expect me to believe that, Zara?” He asked. “I’ve been a detective for twenty years. I know when people are lying and I know when people are holding back. Right now, you’re doing both.”
“Sherriff, listen.”
“No, Zara.” He said. “You listen. All I want to do is solve this case and move on.”
“Then let me out of here.” I said. “Let me figure out what’s going on.”
“You’re a winemaker.” He said. “Figuring out what’s going on is my job, not yours.”
“Then bring me a pillow.” I said. “Because it looks like I’m gonna be here for a while...”
“Ms. Myers. You can’t be-“
“Sherriff Grammar!” Daniel burst through the door.
Seeing Daniel Haddish bust through the door was the last thing I was expecting. As far as I knew he was supposed to be out looking for information that could help us uncover the truth of what was actually going on.
“Mr. Haddish.” The Sherriff exclaimed. “You can’t just bust through the door during a questioning.”
“What I have to show you is too important.” Daniel said. “You can’t arrest her.”
“How did you know I was here?” I asked.
“Hannah called Shelly, then she called me.” He said. “I rushed down to tell them everything.”
“Daniel!” I stood. “Wait!”
“Sit down Ms. Myers.” Sherriff Grammar said.
“Just come with me.” Daniel said. “You’ll see she’s telling the truth.”
I was beyond surprised at what I was hearing. I knew we’d agreed to work together, but seeing him so worried about me and my personal well-being wasn’t something I had seen coming. Was he really worried about me? Was our time spent decorating his wine tree all it took for him to see something in me? And if so, what did I see in him?
“Come with you where?” The Sheriff asked.
“To my house.” Daniel replied. “I… I can’t explain it, but if you just look you’ll know that this wasn’t her fault. Her wine…. It was stolen.”
“Unless you have proof…”
“I do.” Daniel said. “I have more than that. I have the wine.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Daniel. I could tell he didn’t believe him, or at the very least, he didn’t trust him. But it was too late, there was nothing I could do other than allow to chips to fall where they may…
Chapter Twenty
“See…” Daniel opened his office door. “This is what I was trying to tell you.”
I guess I was expecting Sheriff Grammar to have some big reaction or something, but he just stood there, stoic and silent. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the surveillance photos as he scanned the room. Then, slowly and with his hands behind his back he began pacing through the small office, careful not to actually touch anything.
Daniel and I stood in the doorway looking at one another, unsure what to do next. My only hope was that Sheriff Grammar would see this and know I had nothing to do with it. Perhaps then he would be able to move with his theory and find the real criminal behind all of this insanity.
“And you just came home and found it like this?” The Sheriff asked.
“Yes.” Daniel replied. “The pictures, the wine… all of it.”
“Was anything stolen from the house?”
“No.” Daniel said. “Nothing that I’ve noticed…”
“And were any doors or windows broken?” The sheriff looked to Daniel.
“No.”
“Does anyone else have a key to your home….?” He said.
“No.” Daniel replied. “Very few people even know I live here.”
“Yes.” The sheriff said. “I thought you still lived in your childhood home.”
“I bought this house about a year ago.” Daniel said. “From one of my customers after he left town.”
“I see...” Sheriff Grammar said.
I wasn’t sure why he would be doing it, but I got the distinct impression Sheriff Grammar was insinuating Daniel was being less than truthful. But I’d seen the look in Daniel’s eyes when he came to get me, I’d heard the panic in his voice and I truly believed him. Why would he rob me and take pictures of me, then show me proof he was guilty?
“This is the wine.” I said. “This is the Picpoul Blanc.”
“I can see that.” The sheriff rubbed his chin.
“Aren’t you going to fingerprint it or something?” I asked.
“Ms. Myers…” He knelt down, taking a closer look at one of the labels. “Don’t you think if someone was swift enough to take all this wine without you noticing, then take all the pictures, still without you noticing… Don’t you think maybe they’d have been smart enough to wear gloves?”
“I… I guess.” I said, becoming increasingly frustrated with his attitude. “But don’t you think it’s possible he made a mistake?”
“Criminals rarely make mistakes, Ms. Myers. At least not the ones working on this level.” He turned to me. “Unless of course, the person responsible wasn’t a criminal at all…”
“What?”
“If I were to dust every one of these bottles I’d likely find your fingerprints, right?”
“Well, since they belong to me I’m gonna say, yeah.” I said.
“And, now that they’re in Mr. Haddish’s home office I’m going to assume you likely picked a bottle up… Perhaps to get a closer look. Would I be right to assume I’d also find your fingerprints Mr. Haddish?”
“Yes.” Daniel said. “I picked up one of the bottles.”
“So then.” The sheriff said. “No proof of a crime and no foreign fingerprints…”
“What are you trying to say?” I asked.
“I’m saying all of this seems a little convenient. Don’t you think?”
“Convenient for who?” I snapped.
“Well…” He said. “With those guys from Clideworth poking around and you, Ms. Myers, so dead-set against it… Seems like an easy way to make their interest disappear fast. Don’t you think?”
“You’re the hold-out from Clideworth?” Daniel said, placing his hand on my shoulder and turning me toward him.
“One of them.” I said. “Why does it matter to-“
Then it hit me. That’s the reason he’d been so upset with me in the beginning, those were the ‘plans’ he mentioned before. This was his way out…
“You’re the one that signed.” I said. “It’s Glass Rose, you’ve given in.”
“Yes.” He said. “I signed months ago… almost a year now.”
“You said you wanted to sell, you didn’t say it was to Clideworth.”
“What’s the difference?” He asked.
“You know the difference… Clideworth won’t stop until they have every vineyard in town. So that’s why you were suddenly being so nice to me?” I said, pushing his hand from my shoulder. “You’re trying to butter me up? You want me to sign over my vineyard… my family’s legacy.”
“No.” He said. “That’s not-“
“Save it.” I interrupted. “I can’t believe this. All this time I’ve been trying so hard to make my life here work. To make this worth something. And all the while my neighbor has been working against me.”
“No.” He said. “That’s not the whole-“
“How can you defend yourself?” I asked. “You grew up with those vines. They mean something. At least, they should...”
“I’m not selling.” Daniel said. “I changed my mind…”
“I don’t care.” I said.
“It’s true.” He said. “I… seeing you here. Hearing the way you talked about Chateau de Midnight the other day. I realized I didn’t want to give up my home.”
“Listen.” I said. “I’m not selling.”
“Me either.” He said. “Please… let me prove it to you.”
“What?” I asked.
“Let’s solve this thing. I think I have a lead…”
Realizing that it was Daniel the whole time made my heart sink. I’d known for some time that one of my neighbors had given in to the pressure of Clideworth Incorporated, and once one person gave in, it became much easier for everyone else to do it too. I just never imagined Daniel Haddish would have been the first domino to fall.
Murder Before Moscato_A Vineyard Winery Culinary Cozy Mystery Page 8