Murder in Calistoga: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery

by Dianne Harman

  “Liz, I’m not following you. Is this the husband Nikki was married to when she lived in San Francisco? The guy Judy said was in some kind of a scandal? That’s a big leap from being a high roller in real estate development to someone who installs heating units and air conditioners. I’ve obviously missed something.”

  “No, it’s the same man. Here’s what Judy found out and what the chief told me about her husband.” She recounted both of the conversations to Roger.

  “All right, I suppose there could be a tie-in here, but right now you have a lot of suppositions, rather than facts. You still have a lot to discover to ever have him tied to the murder.”

  “I agree, Roger, but here’s my plan. I thought we’d drive over to Sacramento and see if we can talk to him. I’ll come up with some reason why we’re doing it. I’d really like to know where he was about the time she was murdered. Since it was a weekday afternoon, maybe he was working and he has a legitimate alibi. In that case, we won’t waste any more time on him. After we finish with him, I thought we’d come back to Calistoga, go to the winery down the road, and see what we can find out there, but first we have to go a place called The Dog Spa which is located here in town. I can be ready in a few minutes. Sound okay to you?”

  “Whoa, I’m fine with going to Sacramento and trying to track down Nikki’s husband, and I’m fine with going wine tasting at the vineyard next door, but I’m missing something about a need to go to The Dog Spa. We brought plenty of food for Winston, and I’m even sure there’s enough for the extra time you’ll be spending here after I leave.”

  “Roger, we’ll pretend we’re not having the conversation we’re about to have because I told Chief Oliphant that I never had that conversation with him.”

  Roger held his hand up in front of him. “I thought I was lost a few minutes ago, but now I’m totally lost. What in the devil are you talking about?”

  She told him about the non-conversation she’d had with the chief regarding her safety, Winston, and the chief’s recommendation.

  “Liz, I really don’t think the people who work with therapy dogs would appreciate you putting something on Winston that says he’s a therapy dog, when he’s never been trained to be one. That’s not fair to those hard-working trainers, and I’m not comfortable with it. I’m going to have to veto that idea.”

  Liz was quiet for a few moments and then she said, “Okay, I understand what you’re saying, but as smart as Winston is, I bet he could be a therapy dog.”

  “Thinking he could be and actually being one are quite different, like a year’s worth of work or something different,” Roger said, petting Winston who seemed to sense they were talking about him.

  “Let’s do a compromise. I promise I won’t buy him something that says he actually is a therapy dog, or a therapy dog in training. That’s the compromise I’ll make with you. In return, I’d still like to go to The Dog Spa and see if I can find something else that would work. Don’t you think that’s a fair compromise?”

  “When you put it that way it does seem to be, but I’ll reserve judgment until we leave The Dog Spa.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m ready to go. Let me pull up the address on my smart phone. Since you’ve already been to town, you probably have some sense of where streets are. It’s a pretty small town.”

  A few minutes later Roger parked on the street in front of The Dog Spa. The sign in the front window said “Dogs Welcome.” Roger attached a leash to Winston’s collar, and the three of them entered the store. It was Saturday and from the number of people in the store, the owners of dogs in Calistoga were certainly adding to the city’s economy.

  They looked around the store for a few minutes while Winston and a few other dogs took turns sniffing each other to decide whether or not they were suitable for being in the store. They all passed some unwritten test that is known to dogs but not to humans.

  Liz walked over to a woman who was standing behind the counter next to the cash register. “Excuse me,” she said, “but I need for my dog to occasionally go into establishments where dogs are usually not allowed. He’s not a therapy dog, but I was wondering if you have anything that might help me get him in.”

  Roger shook his head in disbelief when he heard what Liz was saying. The woman came out from behind the counter and said, “I do have something that might work for a situation like that. We sell them as cute little stocking stuffers or things for the dog owner who has everything. It’s a certificate that says “… has been certified by me, Dr. William Smith, to be a comfort dog for his owner and by state law is permitted to be with his owner to prevent anxiety.” She turned to Liz and said, “I think this would be perfect for you.”

  “I’ll take it,” Liz said. “Thank you so much. You just solved a big problem for me.” She paid the woman and the three of them left the store.

  When they were in the car Roger turned to her and said, “Liz, do you really think something like that would work? You know that you don’t suffer from anxiety.”

  “That’s true, Roger, but other people don’t know that. The last time I was on a plane there was a woman in front of me who had a small dog at her feet. I overheard the stewardesses talking when I went back to the restroom. One of them was angry that the woman had brought the dog on the plane and said the passenger sure didn’t look like she was suffering from anxiety. The other stewardess said that was the new rule. It really didn’t matter what they thought, and although she knew the new rule was being abused by most of the people who brought their dogs on planes, occasionally it probably did help a passenger be less anxious during the flight.

  “Liz, I think that’s about the most far-fetched thing I’ve ever heard of, but technically you kept your end of the bargain. Write Winston’s name on the certificate, so you don’t get caught when you’re entering the winery.”

  “Or anywhere else I might choose to take him.”

  “Elizabeth…”

  CHAPTER 18

  Liz and Roger easily found the apartment building in Sacramento where Damon Evans lived. It looked like it had seen better days. The lawn, if one could call it that, was filled with weeds, and the sidewalk leading up to the front door was cracked. There were several sacks of trash stacked up on the front porch. They tried the front door to the building, but it was locked.

  Just then a man walked up to the door and said, “Excuse me. I live here, and you have to have a key to get in. Are you looking for someone in particular?”

  “Yes, we want to talk to Damon Evans. Do you know which apartment is his?”

  “I do,” the man said, “but he’s not here. I live in the apartment next to him. He left for Nic’s a couple of hours ago. Probably won’t be home ‘til late tonight. Want me to tell him you were here?”

  “No, what and where is Nic’s?” Roger asked. “We’ll see if we can find him there.”

  “It’s a neighborhood bar two streets over. Damon practically supports it. Matter of fact, I think Nic would have to close it down if it wasn’t for Damon. He’s there almost every week night and most of Saturday and Sunday, too. You can’t miss it. Do you know him?”

  “No, we’ve not met him. Is there anything you can tell me about him?” Liz asked.

  “Well, you won’t be able to miss him with the beard he’s grown. He’s lived here about two years now, and I’ve been watching that grey beard just get longer and longer, although I will say he keeps it well trimmed. When I saw him earlier today he told me his wife had died, so I’m sure he’s drowning his sorrows at the moment, although from the way they argued, I can’t imagine he’s all that sorry.”

  “I never knew his wife. What was she like?” Liz asked.

  “Classy lady. Seemed too good for him, and I always had the sense she let him know it. She didn’t seem like she belonged in this neighborhood, but then again neither did he. Goes to show, you just never know about people.”

  “What did they argue about?” Liz asked.

  “Pretty much everything. I co
uldn’t help but overhear them because the air conditioning in the apartment house is spotty. I knew Damon worked for a company that specialized in air conditioning and heating, and I asked him once why he didn’t do something about it. He told me the owner said he wouldn’t pay Damon to fix it, and Damon didn’t want to do it for free. Can’t say that I blame him.

  “Anyway, back to the arguing. I guess he was some big deal when they lived in San Francisco. One time I heard her say something about the money she’d given him, so he wouldn’t have to go to jail. Another time I heard her tell him she should have left him a long time ago. He told her the only reason she’d stayed with him was because he’d been stupid enough to marry her when she was knocked up. He said he was pretty sure it wasn’t his kid, but he’d been too young and dumb to find out if it really was his. He said it was a good thing she’d lost it, because if it hadn’t looked like him, he would have thrown her and the kid out.”

  “Wow,” Liz said. “That does not sound like a happy marriage.”

  “Tell me about it. The only way we can often get some relief from this heat in the summertime is to open our doors to the hallway. You can’t help but hear things that would probably be better left unheard.”

  “Yes, it sounds like you heard a lot more than they were aware of,” Roger said.

  “I did. I guess he had some legal problems in San Francisco, and she inherited some money and bailed him out, but I never did know exactly what it was about.”

  “Now that his wife is dead, I wonder if he’ll stay here,” Liz said.

  “I don’t know. This apartment ain’t much, but the rent’s cheap, and I don’t think Damon can afford to move up, plus he’s got all his so-called friends at Nic’s. At least he has a place to go while he lives here.”

  “Well, he could always drive there, if he didn’t move too far away,” Liz said.

  The man laughed and said, “I wouldn’t want to be on the road with Damon driving after he’s spent the evening drinking at Nic’s, believe me. I could tell you things…” The alarm on his watch went off, and he looked down at it. “I’d like to talk to you, but I’ve got some ice cream in this sack, and if I stay here any longer, it’s going to melt, plus I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. Good luck with Damon,” he said as he walked into the building.

  “If we’re going into some sleazy bar to try to talk to a possible murderer, I may actually be glad you bought that certificate. I do have the gun I’m authorized to carry with me, but I’ll feel a lot better knowing that Winston is with us as well,” Roger said. “And please don’t say I told you so or something cute like that.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “Uhh-huh,” Roger said rolling his eyes.

  CHAPTER 19

  They drove two blocks, and Roger turned down the street where Nic’s was located. It was impossible to miss the neighborhood bar. The building was painted burnt orange and had a blue door with a tattered yellow canopy which had clearly seen better days. The effect was that of someone trying to copy the style of a Tuscany building, but hadn’t been able to pull it off. A large ashtray was sitting on a bench next to the door, filled with cigarette butts from drinkers who needed to smoke but had to go outside the bar to do so.

  Roger held Winston’s leash as they walked into the dark room. A man behind the bar said in a strong voice, “Sorry, no dogs allowed in here.”

  Roger walked over to the bar and said, “I know it sounds silly, but my wife has a certificate from her doctor indicating she gets anxious and needs to have the dog with her. He provides comfort. Liz, show him the certificate.”

  Liz opened her purse to get it out, and the man said, “As long as the dog is trained, I guess it’s okay. What can I get you?”

  “We’ll both have whatever’s on tap,” Roger said, knowing that Liz hated beer and would have preferred a soft drink, but he also knew that this was the type of establishment where one didn’t order soft drinks.

  Liz looked around at the Saturday afternoon crowd of drinkers who were watching a San Francisco Giants baseball game on a television which hung on the wall behind the bar. No one paid any attention to them. She spotted Damon sitting at the far end of the bar. His grey beard easily gave him away. Roger saw him at the same time and nodded his head towards Damon as he walked over and took a seat next to him. Liz joined him and sat on a stool at the corner of the bar. The bartender brought them two beers in frosted mugs.

  Roger raised his glass and said, “Here’s to San Francisco and you, my love.” He said it loud enough for Damon to hear, but since the television was turned on full blast no one else in the room heard it.

  Damon turned to him and said, “You from San Francisco? I used to live there.”

  “I lived there until two years ago, when I moved to Red Cedar on the coast north of there. Still think it’s a beautiful city even if it does get a bad rap from time to time. And you, you ever live there?” Roger asked.

  “Yeah, and I sure wish I was back there. Had a pretty good life then, but I ran into some problems and decided it was time for me to leave the city by the bay.”

  “Looks like you’re running on empty there,” Roger said. “Let me buy you a beer. Anyone who likes San Francisco is a friend of mine.” He motioned the bartender over and said, “One for my friend here. Thanks.”

  “I appreciate that. I’m having a hard time today. My wife died yesterday. Sure didn’t expect that. Think I’m in a bit of shock. Actually, the policeman who told me about it last night said she was murdered. Glad I’ve got an alibi. She and I’d been married too long, and we argued a bit. If anyone had heard us, they might think I was the one who did it. He said the time of death was about 2:30 in the afternoon. Good thing I was here from noon till about 7:00 when I realized I’d had too much to drink and went home about 7:00. Around 7:30 or so, the cop showed up and told me. You’ll vouch for me, right, Nic?” he said to the bartender as he put a fresh beer mug in front of Damon.

  “Pretty much like what you do every afternoon and night,” Nic said. “I can vouch you were here, and I certainly appreciate your business. Neighborhood bars like this one are probably on their way out. The young people all want to go where the action is, kind of a see and be seen thing. No one’s going to be seen too much in a bar like Nic’s.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” Roger said to Damon. “Are you going to stay here or go back to San Francisco?”

  “It’s a long story, but I’m kind of persona non-grata, you know, someone who isn’t real welcome there. Had a lot of phony friends who didn’t stick by me when I had some trouble.”

  “Your friends may not have been there for you, but sounds like your wife stuck by you.”

  Damon laughed grimly and said sarcastically, “Yeah, it was truly a marriage made in heaven. My wife did move here with me, but I always figured she felt like she had to. Kind of a guilt thing from a long time ago, which I don’t want to go into. Sorry she was murdered, but after the last year or so, can’t say I’m sorry to see her go.”

  Just then the player at bat for the Giants hit a grand slam home run, and the bar crowd erupted in screaming and cheering. Roger leaned over to Damon and said, “We’ve got to go. Nice talking to you and again, sorry about your loss.” He motioned to Liz that they were going to leave. Winston followed his lead, stood up, and the three of them walked out of the bar.

  When they were in the car a few minutes later, Roger said, “I think we can take Damon off of the suspect list. Sounds like he’s got a solid alibi, and Nic will back him up.”

  “I don’t know how reliable a witness Nic would make, but yes, I agree with you. For the time being, we’re going to have to look elsewhere. Do you think Nic will notice that I never took a drink of my beer?” she asked.

  “I imagine Damon noticed, and he’s probably already slid it over in front of him and exchanged it with his empty beer mug. What a sad life when your only enjoyment is going to a neighborhood bar and getting wasted every night. Glad I
have you and Winston.”

  “I’m glad you do, too, and Roger you have to admit, the certificate for Winston was perfect. I’m so glad I got it.”

  “I’ll admit it worked well in a bar. We’ll see how it works in a tasting room at a prestigious winery. The jury’s still out on whether or not it’s a good thing to use, but keep it handy, just in case,” he said as he pulled onto the freeway and headed in the direction of Calistoga.

  CHAPTER 20

  An hour and a half later Roger drove into the parking lot of the Red Stallion Winery. A sign in front of the low-slung building featured a roan colored stallion rearing up on its back legs. Roger and Liz recognized the sign as the same design that had been on the wine label for the cabernet sauvignon the vineyard produced, and which Judy had served the evening before.

  “Okay, sweetheart. It’s late Saturday afternoon in the summer, so I’m not surprised there are so many cars in the parking lot, to say nothing of the limousines. I’m not sure your certificate ruse will work here, but feel free to try it. I would like Winston with us, if at all possible. I wonder if we’ll be able to meet the man who offered to buy Judy’s property.”

  “Judy told me she was under the impression that the man and his wife run the tasting room themselves, because the wine production here is so limited. Even though the wine is very pricey, since they bottle so little, they can’t afford a large staff. Why don’t you give me Winston’s leash, since I’m the anxious one, okay?”

  “Here you go,” he said handing it to her as he opened the door of the tasting room. The large room was paneled with oak wood, the same type of wood that the wine barrels were made from. Behind the bar was a large oil painting of a red stallion similar to the one that was on the sign outside the door and on the wine labels. There were a number of people standing at a long bar with wine glasses in front of them.