Ripe for Murder

by Carlene O'Neil

  “Evidently I can be scared and hungry at the same time. Want to walk back into town and have breakfast at The Diner again?”

  “Not this morning. I think I’ll just relax. I didn’t sleep any better than you did.” She turned her eyes to me, and her concern was apparent.

  “Look at me.” I wiggled my arms and shook my head. “Everything’s still where it’s supposed to be. I’m not that easy to kill. If that were the case, I’d have been finished a long time ago.”

  “Your reassurance is anything but comforting. I repeat, you need to be careful.” She set her china cup down with a clank. “But enough about that. The train company is sponsoring a lunch and wine tasting for us here at the hotel. They’re doing all they can to put a positive spin on our inability to leave town. And on that subject, I think it’s about time Chief Harding admits he doesn’t actually have anything on Chantal. He can’t keep us here indefinitely.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’ll go have another talk with him.”

  “You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.”

  “I’ll ask Connor.”

  “He left for a run a few minutes ago.”

  “Of course he did.” Did the man ever sleep in?

  Antonia pointed toward the horizon. “He went that way if you want to find him.”

  “How long have you known me? What behavior have I ever exhibited that would suggest to you I might possibly take it upon myself to go running across the countryside first thing in the morning?”

  Antonia held up her palm. “Fine. It was just a suggestion. Go ahead and wait for him then.”

  I sighed. “Do you want some coffee? George brought me an entire pot.”

  Antonia nodded and passed her cup over from her veranda. We drank our coffee in silence until Connor turned into the garden. I flagged him down. He stopped under my window. Antonia stayed where she was, listening to every word, no doubt. I tried to keep from staring at his legs, which were basically perfect.

  He peered up at me. “How are you this morning?”

  “Tired and anxious. Sadly, it hasn’t put a damper on my appetite. Want to walk into town to grab a bite? While we’re there, I want to see if the police have any updates. It’s about time they let us know when we can go.”

  “Give me ten minutes to shower.”

  I bit my lip to stop the imagery that conjured up. “Sure you’re not too tired from your run?”

  “It was a short one. I didn’t even hit four miles.”

  “Oh, well, sure. Why did you even bother?”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.”

  I had just enough time to throw on jeans and a sweater, stopping to pick up a coffee in the lobby. Connor grabbed a cup as well, and we started off.

  A short time later he looked around the path. “Show me where you think someone was waiting for you yesterday.”

  I pointed out the thicket. “I know it’s hard to believe, especially now under this perfect blue sky and the crisp, clear air, but yesterday, just around this corner, the birds went quiet and footsteps kept time with mine. Right here is where I met George coming from the hotel. And look at it.” I pointed to the brush. “It’s overgrown, hard to navigate. Someone had to work at getting through that, all to get me alone out here.”

  Some of the fear I’d felt yesterday returned. “It couldn’t be a coincidence—this and then what happened in the caves last night.”

  “I don’t think it was either,” Connor said. “Now we just need to convince Chief Harding.”

  After our walk, I felt entitled to waffles at The Diner. Connor ordered the same, although he was quick to point out that he’d gone for a run as well.

  “I’m planning on hitting the gym this afternoon.” I was too, and as a reward, I might get a massage right after. If I was stuck at the hotel, I might as well enjoy myself.

  After we’d eaten, the walk to the police station took less than five minutes. The moss-green wooden-frame building looked right out of central casting. A plank sidewalk, worn and uneven from years of use, was framed with a white wooden railing. I could easily imagine lawmen down the years sitting there watching over the town, likely in the same rocking chair that now sat empty.

  The front door creaked open and we entered a small lobby facing a waist-high counter. To the rear were two doors, both open. Several deputies moved about in the office on the right. I stepped up to the counter. A woman sat at a desk between the two offices. She was tiny, with shocking white hair, and she was wearing a baby-pink sweater.

  When she spotted me, she walked over, peering over her glasses. “Hello, dear. How can I help you?” She flashed me the sweetest smile I’d ever seen. She reminded me of cotton candy.

  “We’re looking for Police Chief Lawrence Harding. Is he in?”

  The smile faded a bit and her fingers started tapping on the counter. “Harding stepped out a while ago. Didn’t say when he’d be back.”

  I glanced at her name tag: Myrtle. “I didn’t know it was okay to call him by his last name. I guess he’s less formal in the office.”

  She snorted and gestured with her head toward the deputies. “Wanna bet? Those boys in back know to use his full name, or they better get ready to catch an earful.”

  I nodded. “I made the mistake of calling him Mr. Harding. I won’t be doing that again.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That sounds like him. Scaring the tourists. Smart.”

  Connor leaned on the counter. “How do you know we’re tourists?”

  There was a twinkle in her wide blue eyes as she appraised him. “I bet women remember you. I know I certainly would.”

  Connor turned the color of Myrtle’s sweater, and I hid a smile behind my hand.

  “I’ve lived here my entire life, nearly eighty years. I know everyone in town and all their kin.”

  “So you must have known Tara when she was growing up,” I said.

  “The one killed on the train? Sure, I knew her. The question is, how did you?”

  I decided to downplay my involvement. “I was on the train when it happened, and I thought of something the police might find useful. I guess working here you hear about everything, especially something like a murder.”

  “That’s about the size of it. This one’s the talk of the town. Most of the locals remember Tara. She came from the wrong side. I don’t just mean where she grew up. I mean her folks. Her daddy was mean. She didn’t have much of a chance.”

  “Was she ever arrested?”

  “She got herself into trouble a couple of times. Silly stuff. Might have been shoplifting.” Myrtle rested her chin on one hand. “I’ve been behind this counter for over fifty years, and I’ve seen a lot of kids walk through this door. Most are scared out of their minds. Not her. There wasn’t much the police were going to threaten her with that was worse than what she’d already gone through.”

  “Do you remember what happened to her?”

  “Sure. Left town as soon as she could. Next thing you know, she’s back here and this happens. Should have stayed away.”

  “I heard she was involved with a local boy,” I said. “Played football in high school.”

  She snorted. “Seth. He’s still around. He reminds me a lot of her dad. Just mean. It’s a good thing she got away from him. Although it’s too bad for his wife.”

  “Oh,” I leaned in. “So he married a local girl, then?”

  “Barbara. Sweet as can be. Can’t understand how she got stuck with him. It would seem she loves him though. No accounting for taste.”

  “Well, I should let you get back to work.”

  She shook her head, sending fluffy white curls in every direction. “I’ll tell Harding you stopped by.”

  “Out of curiosity, how do you get away with just using his last name? I thought he insisted everyone use his title.”


  She snorted. “I’d like to see him try. I’ve been through six police chiefs. I’ll be here long after Harding’s gone. Guarantee it.”

  Seventeen

  “WE’VE got time to kill. Let’s take a walk through town. Maybe we’ll see Harding along the way,” I said to Connor.

  The windows along Main Street presented everything from sports equipment, which I easily managed to resist, to a confectioner that specialized in red wine–infused chocolate, which I spotted half a block away.

  We strolled to the end of the retail area, munching chocolate, and continued out of town along the river. The road curved ahead into a park and public garden, and classical music drifted through the air.

  “Let’s see what’s going on,” I said.

  We got to the edge of the party before I spotted the bride. “Oops, nothing like crashing a wedding.”

  “I see some benches ahead,” Connor said. “We can sit for a bit and listen to the music.”

  We sat, enjoying both the music and the chocolate. I was feeling pretty relaxed, the warm sun on my face, chocolate shooting all those endorphins or whatever through my system, so I wasn’t really ready when Connor leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “You ever regret not getting married?”

  “What?” Why did I feel so defensive? “Why would you ask me that?”

  “I just wanted to know if you wish you’d gotten married.”

  “No!” The truth is “maybe,” but I didn’t want to go into it.

  “Why are you yelling?”

  I felt my cheeks redden. “I’m not yelling. It’s just not the sort of thing you spring on someone.”

  “It wasn’t an ambush. It’s just a simple yes or no question.”

  “No woman would ever consider that a simple question. It’s complicated.”

  “What’s complicated? Either you wish you’d gotten married, or you’re happy with the way things turned out.”

  I rubbed my eyes. They felt gritty from the lack of sleep. “All right, here’s the short answer. I wish sometimes I’d gotten married, I suppose. The problem comes when I try to figure out what I would have given up, because there’s always a trade-off. I’ve travelled the world and seen so much. All of it makes me who I am.”

  “Was that so hard?” He considered me without saying anything for so long I started to squirm.

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d be happy when you came back. I wasn’t sure you’d stay.”

  “Are you glad I did?” I regretted the question as soon as I asked it. It sounded so coy. “Why did you stay? Did it ever occur to you to live anywhere else?”

  “Sure,” he said. “When I lost the winery to my brother, I wanted to live anywhere but Cypress Cove. Your aunt gave me a job running her winery, your winery, while I decided what I wanted to do. That was fifteen years ago.”

  “Wait a minute.” I held up my hand. “What winery? I didn’t know you owned a winery.”

  He nodded. “Well, my family did. Twenty-six acres east of Monterey. It’s where I grew up.”

  I shook my head. “I never realized.”

  Connor shrugged. “No reason for you to. We had different friends, different schools.”

  “So what happened?”

  Connor was silent for so long I wasn’t sure he was going to answer. “I need to start earlier. My father was French and came from a family of vintners. On his own, he purchased a small winery in the Burgundy region. In his early twenties he married and had one son, but years later, he and his wife divorced. My dad wanted a fresh start, so he moved to California. His son was in his teens by then and stayed with his mother in France.”

  “That explains why you’ve never mentioned you had a brother.”

  “We were never close. He’s sixteen years older than me, and he seemed to resent Dad remarrying, seemed to resent me. He’s never come to California.”

  “What happened?”

  “The plan was to leave the winery in France to my brother, while the winery here was supposed to go to me.”

  Connor seemed lost in thought and I waited. Finally he gave himself a little shake and hurried forward. “My dad died unexpectedly. It took a while to figure everything out, but there was only one will found, and it left everything to Paul, my brother.”

  “Didn’t he know the winery here was supposed to be yours?”

  He shrugged. “As I said, we were never close. He remembered my father’s wishes differently than I did. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

  “That’s awful. So does Paul still own the winery here?”

  Connor shook his head. “No. He sold it to expand the winery in France. My mom moved into town and I started working for your aunt.”

  “So you lost your home and your property. What happened to Paul?”

  “I have no idea. We haven’t spoken since.” He stood and reached out his hand to me. “You ready?”

  We walked in silence until we were back on the trail. “What about you? Why haven’t you gotten married, settled down?”

  “I’ve always wanted a place of my own first. It’ll be smaller than where I grew up, and I might need to just keep it a vineyard. Sell the grapes to bottle under someone else’s label.” He looked at me and smiled. “Maybe Joyeux.”

  “I would welcome that. You know it.”

  He smiled and continued. “As for marriage, well, I think there’s still time.”

  “But it goes so much faster when you get older.” I kept my eyes straight ahead. “There’s also meeting the right person.”

  No physical reaction from Connor, but his voice was low. “Sometimes you just need to know where to look.”

  I left Connor at his terrace, threw on a lemon-yellow sundress and sandals, and walked into the Silverado room a short time later.

  Antonia sat at the bar, and I slid into a seat next to her, nodding when Seth held up a bottle of Pinot Grigio. Barb stood next to him, washing glasses.

  “I didn’t know you worked for the hotel too,” I said to Barb.

  Barb shrugged. “We take the work where we get it. We certainly need the money.”

  Seth tensed next to her and she quickly continued.

  “Anyway, in this case, Bill hired us directly through the train company to work this lunch.”

  Big Dave sat next to me. Vance sagged into the stool next to him and raised a glass to his lips. Big Dave shook his head, but Vance ignored him and downed the contents in one gulp, gesturing as Seth walked past to refill his glass.

  Kim and Jim came into the room all smiles and pulled out stools next to Antonia. Whatever argument had occurred the night before seemed behind them, although Jim stuck with club soda.

  Connor and Chantal walked into the room together, and I looked away before they caught my glance.

  “Their rooms are next to each other. It means nothing,” Antonia said.

  “I know. Did I say anything?”

  “Volumes. Without actually saying a word.”

  Bill walked over. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “Well, this is nice. It’s especially encouraging to see you up and around, Penny.”

  Vance snorted. “Why is that? Has something else happened on this train wreck of a trip?” He chuckled.

  Bill bridled. “Actually, it didn’t have anything to do whatsoever with my train, but yes, something did happen to Penny.” He looked at me. “Do you mind if I tell them?”

  “I guess not, but how did you hear about it?”

  “Olympio told me this morning. He asked his staff about it, but nobody seemed to know anything.”

  “That’s right,” Barb chimed in. “He asked all of us if we’d seen anything.” She glanced at Seth and received an unspoken approval to continue. “We wanted to go back into the ca
ve to clean up from your dinner, but after what happened, Olympio had us wait until this morning.”

  “What do you mean?” Big Dave leaned his big arms on the bar. “What happened?”

  Bill hesitated. “I guess I should have checked with you before I said anything, Penny. That’s just like me. Anyway, at this point can I share the story?”

  I raised my palms to the ceiling. “Sure, go ahead.” I couldn’t very well stop him now, and this way I could watch their reactions.

  “After we left the Berninni caves last night, Penny returned for something—”

  “Chantal’s shawl,” Kim offered.

  “I remember that,” Big Dave said. “We were all on the steps in the garden.”

  “That’s right. That’s right.” Bill paused. “Anyway, while she was back inside the caves, somehow the building’s main power switches, including the air fans, were shut off.”

  Kim shook her head. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she was left in the caves in the dark. Worse, given enough time, the carbon dioxide might have been fatal.”

  Big Dave held up his hand. “What do you mean somehow the switches were turned off?”

  “That’s just it,” Bill said. “The switches are clearly marked and everyone at the winery knows what the consequences can be. Nobody knows how it happened, or if they do, nobody’s talking.”

  Vance snickered. “Classic.”

  Big Dave turned to him. “That’s enough.”

  “Well, come on. You’re thinking it. We’re all thinking it. She stuck her nose in and look what it got her.”

  It was clear Seth agreed with him. He smiled as he moved about the bar, pouring Vance another glass of wine without being prompted. Barb didn’t raise her head but watched her husband’s movements with cautious glances.

  “Well, I, for one, am going to believe it was just an accident,” Kim said. “People don’t go around like that, trying to kill each other.”

  “What trip have you been on?” Vance said. “Because from my seat that’s exactly what has been happening.”

  “Jim, what do you think?” Kim demanded.

  Her husband shrugged. “Hard to say. I don’t remember the switches, and it’s possible it was an accident. On the other hand . . .”