A Case of Sour Grapes: A Cass Elliot Companion Novel (Cass Elliot Crime Series Book 3)

by Gae-Lynn Woods

  “It’ll be bad luck if you don’t do what he told us to do.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s bad luck.”

  “What?” the dark-haired man asked.

  “His orange shoes.”

  “His shoes?”

  “Yeah. Orange is bad luck.”

  The dark-haired man dropped another guitar on the floor and smiled when it sang out. “Where do you get this stuff?”

  “TV, mostly.” The blond pulled at his nose. “And I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t have to. You just have to do what he says.”

  “I don’t think he knows what he’s doing.”

  The dark-haired man turned and put his hands on his hips. “Are you going to tell him that?”

  “Probably not. What do you think?”

  “I’m not paid to think. I’m paid to do what he tells me to do.” He landed on the guitar with a grunt and stomped its neck for good measure.

  “We could just look inside them,” the blond said. “Not break them.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Wreck it all.”

  The dark-haired man pointed. “Start with the banjos. You always hated those anyway.”

  The blond shifted from foot to foot. “When will she be back?”

  “I don’t know. Later. Why?”

  “I have to pee.”

  The dark-haired man sighed. “Make sure you flush. You never flush at home.”

  WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

  I SENSED A PRESENCE and looked up to see Kay and Babby approaching. “Blue,” I said. “I’d like you to meet Kay Wooten and Barbara Chandrell. They’re my aunts, and also the owners of Lost and Found.”

  “So glad you could come,” Blue said. “Have you eaten?”

  “The food is amazing, and it’s so refreshing to find good wine that comes from Texas,” Babby said. “We don’t want to interrupt, just wanted you to know that while Maxine is your main contact, you have the full support of our office.”

  “See?” Blue said. “This is why I like working with women. They understand the personal touch.” She motioned to Will and he brought a bottle of wine and fresh glasses. “Sit, if you have time.”

  Kay and Babby did and Blue poured. Cass sipped her tiny bit of pink wine without being told, and lifted an eyebrow in my direction. Approval, I assumed.

  “How did you get into private detecting?” Blue asked.

  I perked up. This was one of my favorite stories.

  Kay spoke first. “We lived in boring suburbia where the most exciting thing that ever happened was when a snake came through the septic system and up into a toilet. Not nice. Anyway, family pets started disappearing. At first, it was the ancient German Shepherd down the block. Then it was a pet cat. She was old, too, wasn’t she?”

  Babby nodded.

  “The animals always disappeared in the early part of the week. Babby and I talked about it and thought it was a little strange, but every time we brought it up in bridge club or at a neighborhood party, the conversation would change. We were young -”

  “And dumb,” Babby added.

  “Very dumb,” Kay confirmed. “But since we each had dogs, we decided we’d better find out what was going on.”

  “We called the police,” Babby said with a glance at Cass. “But the jerk that Hoffner sent out,” she snapped her fingers, “what was his name?”

  “Beauford.”

  “He was an ass. Big gun, big swagger, completely uninterested in our little domestic problems.”

  “So we decided to investigate. We mounted a surveillance operation on Monday and Tuesday nights.”

  “Surveillance?” Blue asked.

  Kay nodded. “Black clothes, black hats.”

  “But no grease paint,” Babby said. “I’m not sacrificing my skin for a pet.”

  “Wise choice. It’s hard to get off,” Cass said.

  “What happened?” Blue asked. She was leaning forward, elbows on the table, glass of wine cradled in her hands.

  “We worked in shifts. One night I’d be out from dark until two, and Babby would take the two til dawn shift. The next night we’d change. We’d sneak around the neighborhood, looking for lights, checking the houses that still had pets. It took weeks. We lost two more cats and a dog before we figured it out.” Kay took a sip of wine and motioned for Babby to continue.

  “It was a dark and stormy night,” Babby began, then giggled, sounding a little like Marilyn Monroe. “Just kidding. It was July and miserable. Two o’clock in the middle of a blazing hot Tuesday morning. Shift change. Right when Kay showed up at our meeting tree, we saw a flash of light.”

  “We weren’t sure that’s what it was,” Kay added. “But we checked it out.”

  “And spotted a shadow scurrying down the sidewalk.”

  “Dressed in dark clothes and kind of hunched over.”

  “Like he was protecting something,” Babby said.

  “What did you do?” Blue asked. Her attention was totally focused on my aunts.

  “We followed him,” Kay said.

  “At a safe distance?” I couldn’t help it. I had to ask.

  Cass smiled.

  Kay looked puzzled, but answered. “Yes, I think it probably was.”

  “We weren’t sure we should even be following this person,” Babby said. “Although it was the middle of the night and he was acting suspicious. Anyway, he stopped at a car and raised the trunk lid.”

  “That’s when we heard it,” Kay said. “A bark, a yip. Clearly an unhappy dog. So we charged him.”

  Blue’s eyes were huge. “Go on.”

  Kay’s smile was proud. “We hit him hard enough to knock him into the trunk. He banged his head on something and it stunned him.”

  “Just a little,” Babby said.

  “Long enough for us to grab the puppy and check her collar. Peaches. She belonged to a new family that probably hadn’t been told to keep their pets inside at night.”

  “Once we realized we had our man,” Babby said, “we slammed the lid and I ran for the house to call the police.”

  Cass and I shared a grin. The good part was coming up.

  “Did they arrest him?” Blue asked.

  “Nope,” Kay said. “They took him to the hospital and arrested us for assault.”

  Blue gaped. “You’re kidding.”

  “It was Babby’s fault. Bill Hoffner wanted to date her back in the day, but she brushed him off. In public. Hoffner never got over it.”

  “That doesn’t bode well for me,” Blue said. “He asked me out a decade or two ago, and I said no. He’s still sore. Sends his food back every time he eats here and if he’s especially pissy, he has a patrol car parked on the county road doing breath-o-lizers. Puts the patrons off.” Blue refilled glasses. “Did your husbands bail you out?”

  “The cops let us go before our men had to decide to post bail or leave us in jail.” Kay frowned. “I’m not sure what Charlie would’ve chosen.”

  “Why did they let you go?”

  Babby rolled her eyes. “Kay blabbered all the way to the station, talking about how pets had gone missing and we got no help from the police.”

  Kay grimaced. “Deriding the police while in custody isn’t very smart, for future reference.”

  “The cop who took us in was young, and even though he didn’t show it, he was listening.” Babby looked at Kay. “Carlos Martinez, right?”

  Kay nodded. “He’s a detective now.”

  “When Kay mentioned Beauford, Martinez perked up. After he left us with the fingerprint guy, Martinez went to the petnapper’s house and found freshly turned earth in his backyard. He called a detective, took shovels out there that night, and guess what they found?”

  Blue grimaced. “Pets?”

  “Fresh pets from our neighborhood and older carcasses.”

  “Who was this guy?” Blue asked.

  “The brother of one of our bridge club members. He’d been in and out of mental hospitals over the years a
nd she kept their parent’s house in the country so he’d have somewhere to come home to. When he was out, he visited every week, and she noticed the missing pet pattern but kept her mouth shut. Her little old lady friends rallied around to protect him, too, and that’s why he went on for so long.”

  “That’s a lot more exciting than what we get up to around here,” Blue said, and checked her phone. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the kitchen and my expediter. If she doesn’t call soon, you might have another mystery to solve.”

  NO CARDIO TONIGHT

  IT WAS AFTER NINE when I saw Blue again. She placed a platter of ribs on a nearby table and chatted with her guests. The woman was a natural at this whole restaurant thing. She glanced at her watch as she passed our table. “I’m sorry I didn’t say good night to your aunts. Did they enjoy the evening?”

  “Very much. They said to tell you they were sorry they couldn’t stay, but Babby’s going undercover tonight.”

  “Undercover. Juicy. How was desert?”

  “Marvelous,” Cass said. “The best crème brulee I’ve ever had.”

  Blue grinned. “The kitchen is under control and I’m heading to the house. Why don’t you come with me? Maybe Bret’s back. At a minimum, you can see his car and we can chat.”

  Cass begged off like I knew she would. She’d been sleeping more since the shooting, and I guess her body needed the rest. We separated in the parking lot and I followed Blue behind a workshop. Two golf carts were parked on a concrete slab sheltered by a metal awning. We rode along a curvy dirt path into a dreamy darkness between pine trees so tall and wide they blocked most of the moonlight. The noise from the winery quickly receded, and I asked Blue if her house was far.

  “Close to half a mile. But it only takes a few minutes. We’ve never bothered to have lights installed because the drive is so short.”

  The scent of pine was overpowering, almost clinical, as we drove. Blue drew a deep breath and I could feel her relax beside me. “I love the winery,” she said. “But it’s a lot of work. I guess any small business is, but running a restaurant is really taxing.”

  “It seems like it’s doing great,” I said. “It was packed all night.”

  “It’s unpredictable. Some weekends are so busy our feet never touch the floor - that’s why I can’t wear the Blahnik’s - and others are so quiet we wonder if everyone’s migrated to a different planet.”

  We broke free of the trees and the dark mass of a house loomed before us. Blue slowed to a stop. “That’s strange.”

  The slight buzz from the wine evaporated and my senses went into overdrive.

  “I always leave the outside lights on, and at least the lights in the foyer.” She eased the golf cart forward and we bumped onto a flagstone drive. Blue drove through the silvery moonlight and parked at a portico covering the front door. “The power must be out.”

  “Is the house on a different transformer than the winery?” I asked.

  She walked up the steps to the porch. “They’re on the same transformer, but we have separate generators for each. If the power is out, the house generator should’ve kicked on automatically.”

  I followed slowly, taking in the massive home and scanning the area for the source of my discomfort. Blue pushed open the front door and flipped a switch. A chandelier of antlers illuminated the foyer. “Bret?” Blue called. “Are you here?”

  She walked through the downstairs, turning on lights and checking rooms. I followed, taking in the beautiful, rustic decor.

  “Nothing’s out of place,” Blue said. “Maybe he didn’t come in the house. Let’s grab a glass of wine and then I’ll show you the car.”

  She poured and I followed her through a set of French doors. We wound past a pool big enough to swim laps in. A waterfall gurgled over rocks and splashed into the crystal water. Blue paused and shook her head, staring into the backlit pool. “I don’t understand it. All of this,” she waved a hand at the house, the pool, the grounds that were swallowed by the moonlight, “was Bret’s design. His vision. It was a dream I bought into and believed in. And he walked away from it all. It makes no sense for a man to give up his life’s ambition for a big bottom.”

  “It could be something else, Blue,” I said gently. “Let me follow a few more leads before we decide he’s cheating, okay?”

  She nodded, but it was a slow gesture. “You were there when the waitress stormed out?”

  “Yes.”

  “It came out tonight that she’d been sleeping with him.” She shook her head and her eyes cleared as she took a sip of wine. “I should’ve seen it, but I’ve been away so much lately. It seems everybody knew but me. Anyway, I fired her. She thought that was unfair and said Bret would have something to say about it.” Her laugh was brittle. “Thankfully, Chef and our scheduler had written her up for tardiness and attitude, so it won’t be a big deal if she files a complaint. Come on.”

  We followed a covered flagstone path through a vegetable garden wasted from the drought, and a small orchard that would be lucky to survive the summer. The barn-style garage loomed as we cleared a dying arbor, and I swear, it was as big as the house. Maybe I exaggerate, but only a little. Five bays were covered by heavy wood doors studded with iron work. Blue stepped inside and one by one, the doors rumbled open. A Porsche Cayenne, a Jag of some sort, a Prius, and a Range Rover all sat quietly in their places. A fifth bay was empty except for a pile of sports equipment in one corner.

  Blue walked through the open space and straightened a baseball bat and set of golf clubs. “He’s gone again.”

  “But he didn’t take anything with him? No clothes, no toiletries, no,” I motioned to the sports gear, “toys?”

  Blue looked thoughtful. “Let’s go check.”

  Room by room we walked through that big house, with Blue commenting over and over that nothing looked out of place. Until we came to a room on the second floor. She pushed open the door and stopped. I bumped into her and the hair at the nape of my neck stood on end.

  “Oh my,” Blue said.

  It was a music room, packed to the gills with instruments of all varieties. Or what was left of them. Everything was in ruins. Guitars leaned awkwardly on their stands, their tops smashed and torn open. Horns were broken apart and shiny pieces strewn around the room. Drums were slashed.

  Blue leaned into the doorframe and I speed-dialed Cass and then sent a discreet text to Harvey. My cardio workout would have to wait.

  EVERYBODY HAS TO PEE

  CASS ARRIVED BEFORE THE first patrol cars. “What have you touched?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Blue said, her voice trembling. “I mean, everything, but not tonight. We opened the door and saw the room and Maxine called you.”

  Cass surveyed the damage, her violet eyes clouded. “Would your husband do something like this?”

  “Bret? Destroy his own instruments? Never. He loved this stuff.” She motioned with her chin to a tangle of wires and smashed metal boxes in a corner. “That’s new studio equipment. He wanted to start recording again.”

  “Again?” I asked.

  Blue pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. “He was in a band when he was teenager. A punk group, I think. Or maybe folk. Music was a safe topic lately. Anyway, he bought this stuff and played old tapes. They sounded horrible to me, but he seemed so happy. He’d been practicing and when I asked him about it, he said he was trying to find that original sound.” She half choked a laugh. “You’d think he was some aging rock star who’d been out of the game and wanted back in. I thought it was part of the whole mid-life crisis thing.”

  Cass turned us away from the room and led us back down to the first floor. “Walk me through what happened tonight.”

  Blue took us to the kitchen and put a kettle on to boil, then pulled mugs and tea bags from a cupboard while she explained our earlier traipse through the house and out to the garage. The familiar activities seemed to sooth her.

  “There were no signs of forced entry?” Cass
asked.

  Blue shrugged and looked to me.

  “Do you always leave the front door unlocked?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I faintly heard Cass draw a slow breath and wondered if she was counting to ten. “This place is remote, but you get a lot of traffic at the winery. Why would you leave your doors unlocked?”

  The kettle whistled and Blue poured boiling water into our mugs. “I wasn’t comfortable with it at first, but Bret was insistent. We keep some stock for the restaurant here and we’re always back and forth. The staff constantly come and go. We’ve never had any trouble. Sometimes I remember to lock up at night, but it hadn’t crossed my mind that I’d need to during the day. Besides, we keep a set of house keys at the winery in case we forget and leave the doors locked.”

  Cass opened her mouth and I felt a scolding coming, but a knocking sounded and she left to go check the front door.

  Blue’s eyes were red-rimmed when she looked at me. “Who would do something like this? Come into our home and damage nothing except Bret’s instruments? Is it some sort of revenge? Could Bret be hurt?”

  I didn’t have an answer, so for once, I kept my mouth shut and just squeezed Blue’s hand.

  __________

  IT TOOK KADO AND that handsome young officer called Scott Truman the better part of two hours to examine the house, the grounds, and Bret’s music room. Blue was right; everything but the music room appeared untouched.

  Kado followed Truman and Cass into the kitchen. They all looked as bushed as I felt.

  “I’ve got loads of fingerprints from the music equipment. Can you get a list of all the people who’ve been in that room for me?” Kado asked.

  Blue nodded. “It’s mostly the winery staff who use it. But some people came from the music shop to set up the recording equipment.”

  “Don’t freak out when you see the fingerprint dust in the bathroom,” Truman said. “We took prints in there, too.”

  At Blue’s quizzical look, Truman explained, “Whoever did this spent a lot of time in the music room.” He shrugged. “Everybody has to pee.”