“So why are you?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“I mean, it was a silly little argument, certainly not worth killing someone over.”
He rocked back on his heels. “The person in charge of the train pointed out that nobody else could have gotten in or out of the caboose after the brake was hit.”
“That must have been Bill.”
The chief consulted his notes and nodded. “He said you went back there and found the door blocked by tablecloths.”
Terrific. I breathed deeply, forcing my voice to remain calm. “We found Chantal unconscious with blood coming from a cut on her forehead.”
“I only have your word for that.”
“It sounds like you think I’m lying.”
“Not at all, but perhaps you were fooled.” He stroked the small moustache that lined his upper lip. “You’re possibly too close to the suspect to remain neutral.”
“So Chantal’s a suspect? It sounds like she needs to talk to an attorney.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “At this point, technically, everyone on the train is a suspect but, of course, I’m paying greater attention to those of you in the rear compartment.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “The only people who knew Tara before today were all in that last car. And no one from the front of the train came into our car, which is the only way to get into the caboose.”
Chief Harding continued as though I hadn’t said a thing. “No, someone in that last car is my target. I don’t mind saying, however, that Miss Martinelli is of special interest to me at this point.”
“If it makes a difference, Chief Lucas of the Cypress Cove Police Department knows Chantal Martinelli personally. You might want to give him a call.”
Chief Harding wrote the name down. “Cypress Cove. Where is that?”
“Just south of Monterey, along the coast.”
“Well, I might give him a call, or I might not. This is my investigation and I’ll take care of things my way.” He smoothed his moustache. “That whole central coast area. Lots of wineries down there too?”
I nodded. “The Martinellis own the largest winery in the region. Antonia Martinelli is on this trip with her daughter. I own the winery next door to them.”
Harding smacked his notepad against his palm. “I don’t mind telling you the wineries and the folks that clog our streets coming to see them are a pain in my side. The politicians let them do whatever they want because they bring in tourists and their money. I, for one, wish we had fewer wineries and more peace. This winery train has been nothing but a nuisance. I can’t tell you the amount of time I’ve lost at the rail crossing waiting for the thing. And when it goes by, people are waving and laughing, like I give a damn how much fun they’re having. I’ve got work to do.”
“It seems pretty quiet around here. How much crime actually occurs?”
“Enough. For example, I’ve got a murder to investigate, so if you’ll excuse me.”
That was it? He hadn’t asked anything that might point to motives or suspects beyond Chantal. “Um, Chief Harding, before the murder I observed—”
“You observed?” He chuckled. “I think someone has been watching too many made-for-TV movies. If I have anything else I need from you, I’ll let you know.”
I ground my teeth. “What should we do in the meantime?”
“In the meantime,” Police Chief Lawrence Harding placed his hands on his hips, “you all return to your hotel and get comfortable. You aren’t leaving town anytime soon.”
* * *
“THIS is quite impossible.” Antonia paced. We’d just returned from a quick trip to the hospital with Chantal, and the four of us now sat in the hotel lobby.
“The good news is that your injury wasn’t serious,” I said.
“It still hurt.” Chantal lay back on the cushions. Very dramatic. “I mean, I was attacked by an unknown assailant.”
“You’re right, of course,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Antonia tightened the grip on the silver handle of her cane and thumped it hard against the tile floor. “She’s hardly okay, Penny. According to that police chief, she’s under suspicion for murder. He’s made up his mind Chantal is responsible.” Antonia waved her cane in Chantal’s general direction. “Why in heaven’s sake did you have that altercation with that . . . that person? You’ve given this police chief exactly what he was looking for: a motive.”
Chantal looked up, the glitter of unshed tears in the corners of her eyes. She’d been crying earlier, but without the blotchy red skin, swollen nose and running mascara that accompany me when I have a good cry. There was fear in her eyes, but they weren’t red; they shone a startling green. She chewed at her lower lip as she tugged on the end of her ponytail.
“Tara hit me first. I was just trying to protect myself. Right, Penny?”
“She’s right. Tara just hauled off and slapped Chantal. She needed to be locked up.”
“The only one I’m concerned about being locked up is Chantal.” At Antonia’s words, Chantal paled.
“Do you think the police will arrest me?”
Antonia sniffed. “I wasn’t overly impressed with this police chief.”
Connor nodded. “I think we all agree he’s no Chief Lucas. He strikes me as insecure, and insecurity can make a man dangerous.”
He turned to me. “I hate to say it, especially since I’ve told you often enough you should leave these things for the police, but this guy doesn’t appear to be looking at anyone other than Chantal.”
“I thought the same thing,” I said. “He didn’t even ask about any of the other passengers.”
Connor tapped his chin. “We all know of your, um, proclivity for finding bodies and the murderers that cause them.”
“Two. I’ve found two bodies. Well, three, if you count Tara today, but anybody could have spotted her.”
“My point is that nobody is looking very hard at anyone else for this murder.” He looked at Chantal. “We might be her best shot.”
Chantal looked at me and broke into a fit of crying, the kind that really leaves its mark. Mascara streaked her cheeks and tears left darkened spots on her cashmere sweater. “I’m going to jail!”
Before I could thank Chantal for her vote of confidence, Antonia pulled her up by the arm. “Come with me. Let’s get some room service.” As she passed by me, she leaned over. “I’m relying on you, Penny. My girl didn’t do this.”
I caught her eye and nodded. Antonia was right. Chantal was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a killer. We watched them leave, turning the corner to Chantal’s ground-floor room. When they’d disappeared, I turned to Connor. “Want to get a bite?”
He nodded and we crossed the lobby to the restaurant. In contrast to the old-world charm of the hotel, the restaurant and bar were cutting edge. Clean lines of glass and chrome, with black leather barstools and polished onyx floors. The music in the background was a hip jazz-fusion sound. We were seated and had just given our drink order when Vance entered the bar. He still had on the polo shirt and shorts he wore earlier in the day. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a drink and pulled out his phone.
“Here, switch sides with me,” I said to Connor.
“Why?”
“Vance is on the phone and I can’t hear what he’s saying.”
Vance laughed about something and I nudged Connor.
“He sure doesn’t seem upset about losing his stepmother. I’m missing it! Change places!”
“I think I’m going to regret supporting you getting involved in this.”
“Oh, like I need your blessing? Please.”
“You won’t be able to hear him. I can’t make out what he’s saying as it is, and if we get up and switch places, he’ll notice and lower his voice.”
“Fine.” I put my napkin on the t
able.
“Where are you going?”
“To see what they have on tap, or get something at the bar. That is, if I need to. Hopefully he won’t notice me.” I stood.
“That’s doubtful. You’re hardly stealthlike.”
“Don’t be sarcastic. Maybe I’ll surprise you.”
“Sure. You’re five-nine. You’ll stick out like a blonde thumb.”
I held my finger to my lips. “Shhh. It’s all in the attitude.” I pushed my chair back and positioned myself against a pillar.
Connor held his hand up to his face. I think he might have been laughing. I moved to the corner and watched Vance. His elbows were propped on the bar. He picked at a bowl of peanuts with one hand and held the phone with the other.
“Give the old man a few days. He’ll be fine.”
I crept a few feet closer, stopping behind a potted palm.
“Nah, they weren’t married for very long. And at least this way she won’t be spending any more of Dad’s money.” Vance listened, then laughed into the phone. “It leaves more for me, that’s for sure.”
As Vance hung up, I backed away from the palm. I was fine until I felt a solid nudge right in my waist. I turned just in time to realize it was the edge of a tray loaded with wineglasses. The little bitty thing carrying it didn’t stand a chance. I had a good ten inches and forty pounds on her. I grabbed for the tray but only succeeded in slowing the inevitable cascade of glassware that went flying across the bar floor. I glanced over at Connor and he had his face covered. I was pretty sure he wasn’t laughing any longer. I froze as Vance looked up at the ruckus. The poor waitress waved away my offer to help with alarm, and I joined him at the bar.
“Nice move back there,” he snickered.
Wow, I really didn’t like this guy. I took a seat. “You seem to be having fun. Not at all upset about losing your stepmother, are you?”
Vance shrugged. “I didn’t even know her. Dad thought this trip would change that. Oh well, not a chance of that now.”
“But still.” I remembered Big Dave’s tears. “For your father’s sake, I’m surprised you aren’t at least putting on a show of grief.”
“In front of him I will be.” He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered me one.
“You can’t smoke in here. You pretty much can’t smoke indoors anywhere in California.”
“Damn crazy state.” He put the pack away.
“I’m surprised you smoke, being an athlete.”
“You follow tennis?” He leaned in. Apparently the topic of conversation was now to his liking.
“Not really. I’m not very coordinated.”
He snorted. “Yeah, you pretty much confirmed that a couple of minutes ago.”
Such a charmer. “So, do you play professionally?”
“Nah, just the club tournaments. I didn’t get to the pros. I have the talent, but my dad wouldn’t let me play full-time. Put me to work in his dealerships. With a little bit of sponsorship, I’d have had a real shot.”
I guess that was my cue to feel sorry for him. Oddly enough, I couldn’t muster any sympathy.
“Please give your dad my regards. I’d offer them to you as well, but it looks like you’re just relieved Tara isn’t spending any more of your dad’s money.”
“So you listen in on phone calls too? Nice.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. After all, you think it’s great news that the woman your dad loved has been murdered. He must be heartbroken.”
“What do you mean murdered? I thought she got drunk and fell off the train. That sounds like her.”
“Well, she didn’t. She was pushed.”
“How do you know?”
“Because of the safety chain on the platform gate. Someone pushed her and then reattached it. The part I don’t understand is the emergency cord. If it hadn’t been pulled, the train wouldn’t have stopped within sight of Tara’s body. It might have been hours before she was found.”
“You don’t say.” Vance signaled for another drink.
“You know, whoever pushed her must have had a motive. Her wasting the family money sounds like a pretty good one to me.”
His hand stopped over the peanuts. “Whoa. You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. The first thing the police look for is motive, and I’d say yours is better than most. I heard you at lunch with your dad—”
“Eavesdropping there and now here.” Vance shook his head. “You might want to reconsider where you’re sticking your nose.”
“Maybe you should reconsider what you say in public, especially with a murder to solve. You made it pretty clear at lunch you thought your dad investing in the train was . . .” I rested my chin on my forefinger. “I think you referred to it as bull. Tara also said that owning a winery would be fun. If something like that were to happen, well now, we’re talking about a real drain on your—I mean your father’s financial resources.”
Vance stood and I got a good look at him. He seemed larger than I remembered, maybe because now he was pressed close to me. He gripped the back of the barstool, his wrists thick and muscular from years of gripping a tennis racket. Veins bulged in his tanned neck. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“But now that isn’t going to happen, is it?” he said. “I don’t like your line of thinking, and you won’t be sharing it with anyone, will you?”
“Sharing what?” Connor came up beside us. All the times I’ve been glad to see him paled compared to the joy I felt at finding him at my shoulder. He was the same height as Vance and equally matched in strength. What gave Connor the edge was the anger that drew his brows together, his jaw trembling as he clenched his teeth.
My money was for throwing Vance over the bar, but I didn’t get a vote. Vance had the sense to diffuse the situation. He took a step back. “No problem here. Penny and I were just discussing a theory she has on why I might be glad my stepmother is dead.” He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m not glad, of course. Not at all, and that’s why I was telling . . . I mean asking Penny not to share her theories. People sometimes get the wrong idea.” Vance turned to go. “I’m going down to the pool. Catch you later.”
He walked away.
“You still going to share any of those theories?” Connor asked.
“Of course. To you and the police and anyone else who will listen.”
Nine
“WHAT was that about?” Antonia walked up to the bar.
“Vance trying to pretend he’s sorry Tara’s dead. No matter what he claims, he’s relieved she’s gone, especially since she was busy spending his inheritance right out from under him. I heard him talking with Big Dave at lunch on the train before storming out. It doesn’t matter what he says now, he was really angry with Tara then.”
“It’s not going to be easy to prove Vance had anything to do with Tara’s death,” Connor said. “It’s one thing to say something offhand during an argument. Quite another to be incensed to the point of pushing your stepmother off a moving train.”
“Either way, you certainly rattled him. Good.” Antonia gripped her cane, her hand etched with blue veins stark against the white skin. “He’s entirely too flip for my taste. Nice to see him taken down a peg.”
Her voice cracked when she spoke. Determination shone in her vibrant green eyes but, at that moment, Antonia looked every bit her age.
Seeming to sense the direction my thoughts had taken, Antonia stamped her cane. “I hope you aren’t tired, Penny. I’m certainly not. Let’s get something to eat and discuss our next move.”
“I thought you and Chantal ordered room service.”
“We changed our minds. She wasn’t hungry, so I insisted she go and get a massage in the spa. Help her relax.”
“She’s got to be upset,” Connor said.
“She is, of course. But the reality is that Chantal has lived most of her life in a sheltered environment. She hasn’t grasped how much trouble she could be in over this.”
Antonia has always been overly protective of Chantal, but, for once, I managed to keep my mouth shut.
Antonia gestured to a back table. “That will work.”
When we’d settled in, Antonia continued, “Truth be told, I can’t imagine anyone on the train having more to gain from Tara’s death than Vance.”
“Well, it’s possible Big Dave wanted her gone. She was a real flirt and maybe he’d had enough. My gut tells me that isn’t the case, though. As for suspects, don’t forget about Seth and Barb.”
“The waitress and that terrible husband of hers?” Antonia shook her head. “I don’t understand. Explain yourself.”
“You saw them at the bar when I did,” I said. “Barb was jealous of Tara, and Seth didn’t like Tara turning down his advances and referring to him as a toy.”
Antonia nodded. “And a second-rate one at that. I’d forgotten.” She steepled her fingers and rested her chin on them. “It’s hard for me to see Barb pushing Tara off the train, but you never know. On the other hand, I have no problem seeing Seth responsible for this. I get the feeling he’s had some experience pushing women around.”
“I know,” I said. “I felt it too. I wouldn’t be surprised by anything I learned about him.”
“Well, that gives us four people that might have a reason to want Tara dead.” Connor ticked them off on his fingers. “Big Dave, the husband; Vance, the stepson; Seth, the insulted and recently scorned ex-lover; and Barb, the humiliated wife.” He stopped and thumbed over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose those two had anything against Tara. They just met her, right?”
I peered through the dim light and spotted Jim and Kim in a corner booth. “It doesn’t look like they knew anyone here before this trip. I think they said they’ve never been to California before. Tara headed South right after high school. That’s where she met Big Dave. I would also say Bill, the train guy, is in the clear. No reason he’d kill someone who wanted to invest in his company as enthusiastically as Tara did.”
Ripe for Murder Page 7