From Port to Rigor Morte

by J. C. Eaton

  Chapter 14

  “Zenora can do the visualization and reconnection tonight around six,” Glenda announced the second I walked into the tasting room. She had come out of the kitchen with a fresh pitcher of water for her table. “I called her yesterday when you told me about the bracelet and she’s anxious to see if she’s mastered the skill.”

  Good grief. Why do I let these things happen?

  “Does this involve chanting, moaning, burning nasty-smelling herbs or anything like that?”

  Glenda thought for a moment before responding. “I think the traditional methods are more of an inner reflection. Not quite a trance but something like that.”

  Wonderful. This is all I need.

  “Um, it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

  “Oh, yes, it does. It absolutely does. Zenora said that the longer an object sits, it loses the human contact it once had.”

  “She’s not testing for trace DNA. She’s—”

  “Homing in on an ancient art. She gets out of work at four thirty and will drive from Ithaca straight over here. You’re lucky, you know. In the fall, her hours are much longer. Uris Library is packed with academia doing all sorts of research. Of course, they only call upon her when the other research assistants can’t locate information. Zenora’s a genuine treasure.”

  A genuine treasure formerly known as Mabel Ann and housed in a secluded part of the library basement so as not to scare the students.

  I started to say something but Glenda kept talking. “We close at five thirty. We should have everything all cleaned and set up for tomorrow. The timing couldn’t be better.”

  With that, she trotted off to her tasting room table and I stood frozen in place.

  “Everything okay?” Cammy asked. She had just finished a tasting with two couples and glanced my way.

  “Some people have to pay money for entertainment but not us. Tonight at six, if you stick around, we’ll be privy to Zenora’s . . . geez, I don’t know how to put this . . .” I rolled my eyes and tried to find the right words. “Zenora’s astral connections to—oh, what the hell! She’s going to hold that bracelet Godfrey and I found and see if she can pull up a vision of its owner and draw the person over here.”

  Cammy burst out laughing and had to grab her chest. “Seriously? This might beat everything else she’s done. Sure, I’ll hang around. It’s cheaper than flying to Vegas for a magic show. Too bad Sam’s not working today. He’d have a field day with this one. I’m not sure about Roger but I’ll let him know when he gets done with that crew of senior citizens at his table.”

  “I think I may have homed in on the bracelet’s owner a few minutes ago, and that was without incantations and heaven knows what else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I looked around to make sure no one could overhear us and then told Cammy about my conversation with Brewer’s office secretary. “That adds another suspect. That is, if the bracelet we found is hers. Too bad she had to take a phone call and it was awkward for me to stand and wait.”

  “Or the woman could have simply lost a bracelet that wasn’t the one you found in the woods.”

  I nodded. “True, but think about it. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. It might be shoulder-length hair like the woman Godfrey and I saw coming out of the woods. Plus, her boss was the murder victim. Maybe she had a reason to do him in. Or maybe her boyfriend, if she has one, had a reason to do him in.”

  “You’re not writing a screenplay, Norrie.”

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me. Then again, I did find out from her that there were issues with Speltmore Winery and Lake View Winery. And issues could mean motive.”

  “Or issues. Look, you’ve got more theories bouncing around in that creative little mind of yours than popcorn kernels on a stove. Maybe give it a rest and see what the sheriff’s office turns up. After all, they’re the ones who get paid to do that sort of thing.”

  “But they’re not the ones who are inches away from having Steven Trobert breathing down their necks. Or worse yet, his mother.”

  I knew I needed to take my time and piece together the information. Right now all I had was a series of loose ends and no real game plan in mind. I did, however, promise Cammy I wouldn’t do anything rash. Not right away, that is.

  She went back to the tasting room and I made a beeline for the bistro and a mental note to eat more substantial breakfasts in the future. Once satiated, I moseyed into the winery office and dealt with the usual emails and correspondence, including one lengthy tome from the wine trail that Henry just had to send out. It was a detailed history of port wine beginning with the Roman Empire in the twelfth century and, worse yet, a lengthy list of the more than eighty indigenous grapes found in Portugal today.

  One look at the email and I knew what that bugger was up to. He wanted to focus everyone’s attention on port wine since his special tawny port was about to be released. I figured Madeline and the rest of the WOW ladies would have all the salient details memorized so I didn’t bother to finish reading the email. Besides, Henry had already lost me after mentioning Tempranillo and Touriga Franca grapes. I finished up with the usual paperwork and went home to focus on my real job. One that didn’t require an extensive background in winemaking.

  At a little before five, I put together a quick salad and polished it off with an apple and some chocolate dipping sauce. Then, having taken Charlie out for a brief walk, I resigned myself to the fact that I had acquiesced where Glenda was concerned and now had to deal with Zenora’s attempt to find the owner of the scarab bracelet.

  Drat. I should have put an ad in the lost and found section of the Chronicle Express.

  I retrieved the fourteen-carat gold piece of jewelry and tucked it into the pocket of my jeans before taking off for the winery. With any luck, Zenora would hold the thing in her hand, mutter a few unintelligible words and we’d be done. Or so I thought.

  When I got to the winery, Zenora had already arrived and was seated next to Glenda at one of the tasting room tables. Cammy, who opened the door to let me in, whispered, “Lizzie and Roger were the smart ones. They left as soon as Zenora walked in.”

  I tried not to laugh. “What about Fred and Emma?”

  “They’re in the bistro preparing for tomorrow. Lots of chopping, mixing, and sorting, I imagine.”

  “Might as well get this over with. Come on.”

  Zenora stood as soon as she saw me approach and stretched out her hand. The sight of cascading rolls of fabric in clashing colors that somehow came together to form her loose-fitting dress stunned me momentarily. I thought I was used to the offbeat attire Zenora wore but apparently not. “I’m so pleased to see you welcoming the spiritual world and accepting all it has to offer.” She swept an unruly lock of her long dark hair from the side of her face and grasped my hand.

  “Um, uh, yeah. Glenda was pretty insistent you could help with the matter of this bracelet.” I reached into my pocket and held it out to her, fully expecting she would take it in her hand but, instead, she lifted a small vial of heaven-knows-what from a pocket in that dress of hers and proceeded to wave it around the bracelet.

  “We cannot afford to take any chances if the bracelet contains dark energy. It’s my special mixture of fennel, lemon, and juniper.”

  Cammy, who had taken the seat next to Glenda, moved her index finger in a circle around her ear when Zenora and Glenda weren’t looking.

  “Good idea,” I muttered. “Very helpful. Now what?”

  “Now, I can grasp the object and feel its strength. Not physical strength, mind you, I’m talking pulse, vibration, energy, and connection to its wearer. I’ll need to sit. The process is exhausting.”

  Glenda motioned to the chair on her right and Zenora gracefully spread out the skirt of her dress as she sat, all the while holding the bracelet as if it was liquid mercury.

  “Be still, everyone,” she said. “I need complete silence.”

  I glanced in the direction of the bistro and thankf
ully Fred and Emma were working quietly. Then I watched Zenora. At first she held the bracelet to her lips and inhaled. Then she folded it into her fist with such intensity that it reminded me of Superman when he’d take a piece of coal and turn it into a diamond. Any even without psychic powers of my own, at that moment, I knew I should have declined Glenda’s offer to have Zenora help find the owner.

  Zenora began to moan and physically strain her body as if she was trying out for a TV commercial about constipation medicine. I watched her press down, release the tension, and tighten up again. Thankfully Cammy was on the other side of Glenda because I feared if we made eye contact, we’d lose it completely.

  Then, if the inhalations and straining weren’t enough, Zenora stood, closed her eyes and waved the bracelet around her head. I figured by now she was nearing completion of whatever the heck she was trying to do, but apparently I was wrong. She tucked the bracelet into the cleavage of her loose-fitting bra, outstretched her arms, and whirled. Not one of those classic ballet routines where a graceful ballerina spins to the delight of the audience, but more like someone who was trying to rid themselves of fleas and didn’t know what else to do. My mouth was suddenly dry and I was at a loss for words. Then, the pièce de résistance. Zenora sank back in her seat in what appeared to be a trance.

  She swayed and hummed, all the while with that bracelet still tucked in her cleavage, and I wondered how much it would cost for a jeweler to power-wash the thing when she was done. In the background I could hear Fred and Emma as they continued to prep for the morning and I had a sudden desire to jump up and help them. Anything to get me away from the spectacle taking place a few feet from me.

  I glanced at Cammy, whose eyes widened as she stared at Zenora, and then, without warning, not that I expected Zenora to give us a warning, but still . . . Zenora leapt from her chair and let out a primordial shriek that resulted in Fred or Emma dropping what sounded like cutlery as a series of metallic sounds reverberated from the bistro.

  “What happened?” Fred yelled. “Is everyone all right?”

  I rushed to where he stood and motioned for him to stay still. “Whatever you do, don’t interrupt her or we’ll be here for another hour. She’s trying to contact someone via spiritual means.”

  “Can’t she just use a phone like the rest of us?”

  “Shh, long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  Fred shrugged and walked back to the bistro, sparing himself from Zenora’s grand finale. She bent down, tucked her chin to her chest, and waved her arms in a circular motion before opening her eyes and letting out yet another shriek, only this one lingered long enough to give all of us a bout with tinnitus.

  “I’ve projected into the astral realm and sent a message to the person to whom this bracelet belongs,” she said. With that, she reached into her cleavage and extricated the poor scarabs. “Here, Norrie. Now it’s simply a matter of waiting.”

  If ever I wanted to don a pair of food-handling gloves, that was the moment. But instead, I held up my palms and raced to grab one of the gift towels from the rack. “Place it on here,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to take away any of the bracelet’s energy.”

  Chapter 15

  “Wasn’t Zenora magnificent?” Glenda asked when I saw her the next morning. I’d stopped into the tasting room on my way over to Billsburrow Winery for our Thursday WOW meeting.

  “Um, that’s one way to put it.”

  “She’s confident the bracelet will soon be back on its owner’s wrist.”

  That, or in Grizzly Gary’s possession if I don’t move fast.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Thankfully the ringing in my ears had stopped but I wasn’t so sure about everyone else. With a few minutes to spare before trotting off to Madeline’s place, I touched base with Cammy. She was between customers and tidying up her tasting room table.

  “If anyone shows up asking if we’ve seen a scarab bracelet, I’ll let you know.” Then she let out a laugh. “Think Zenora had anything else tucked in there?”

  “I try not to think about it. Anyway, the bracelet’s safe with me until I figure out what to do with it.”

  “Don’t wait too long.”

  “I’ll let you know if I find out anything about Henry Speltmore and his relationship with Brewer. Or Boyd, for that matter. Madeline and Stephanie couldn’t wait to share what gossip they had.”

  “Take copious notes.”

  “Now you’re sounding like Lizzie.”

  • • •

  When I got to the WOW meeting on Madeline’s enclosed porch/patio room, everyone except Catherine had arrived. Theo was already munching on some of Madeline’s praline cookies and Rosalee Marbleton was fast at work piling praline and chocolate chip cookies on her plate. Stephanie, who was helping herself to some lemonade, must have given her a look because Rosalee said, “I lived through the Great Depression. You eat what and when you can.”

  Meanwhile, Madeline sat and placed a pile of papers in front of her. “Good to see everyone. We’ll get started as soon as Catherine gets here. It’s not like her to run late.”

  I took the chair next to Theo at the long rectangular table that overlooked Billsburrow’s vineyard and he whispered, “No, running late is something you usually do.”

  “Very funny.”

  At that moment, Catherine entered the room and gave her short brown hair a quick pat. “Forgive me, everyone, but this has been a very stressful week for me. Thank goodness Steven will be here by the end of next week. He may need to bail my husband and me out of jail by then.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Theo said. “The sheriff’s office has no evidence that you were involved in Brewer’s death.”

  Catherine wrung her hands and took a seat. “According to Deputy Hickman, the business card they found on Brewer’s body is tangible evidence. And when he interviewed our staff, everyone remembered hearing my husband and Brewer argue.”

  “Any judge in his or her right mind would rule that out.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Catherine gasped. “So you think we’ll be going in front of a judge?”

  Theo shuddered. “No, no. That’s not what I meant.”

  Madeline moved the pile of papers closer to her chest and cleared her throat. “Maybe we should get started with our meeting and then we can—”

  “Find out if the Troberts are going to be in police beat?” Rosalee asked.

  Stephanie looked my way and widened her eyes as if to say, “Do something, Norrie,” but I didn’t need any encouragement. I needed answers of my own and didn’t want to wait until the end of a mind-numbing meeting to get them.

  “We can’t hold a meeting about winery events and party menus while we’ve got a murder on our hands,” I said. Then I looked at Madeline. “Can the pile of papers wait a little longer?”

  “Of course. Why don’t we all take a deep breath and let Norrie talk.” Then to me, “You were going to talk, weren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Uh, yeah. Look, I know the sheriff’s office is investigating Davis Brewer’s homicide, but face it, they always take the easy way out and go with the first piece of evidence they find. Then they try to make it fit their scenario. Frankly, I’d freak out if I was in Catherine’s place, too.”

  Oops. I never should have said that because the next two minutes were spent with Catherine crying and everyone offering up napkins and tissues. Finally, when there was a break in her sobbing, I went on. “Lake View Winery wasn’t the only winery to have issues with Brewer. The Speltmores did, too. I found that out from Brewer’s new secretary at the cooperative office in Dresden. Issues over the seasonal worker contract. And that’s not all.”

  For the next three or four minutes, I gave them the rundown about the fender bender, my theory about the driver, and my trek in the woods with Godfrey. I left out the part about Zenora. And for good reason. I needed to remain credible. “So,” I continued, “there may be a link between Boyd and Brewer and one way to start is to find out if any of you
know anything about them. Or Libations, that chain liquor store that sells all of our wines.”

  Rosalee shuffled in her chair. “I may be getting on in years, but you lost me completely.”

  “Yeah, Norrie,” Theo said, “one thing at a time.”

  I brushed a strand of hair off my brow and took a quick breath. “Okay. Everyone here knows that Eli Speltmore, Henry’s kid, was the one who found the body and told me. A few days later at the crack of dawn he picked up the phone to call his friend and overheard a conversation between his father and some guy who threatened him. Don’t ask me why, but somehow I’ve become Eli’s confidante. Or sucker. Either way. Anyhow, he was able to find the caller ID and I checked it out. It belongs to Libations. But who called Henry and why is anyone’s guess.”

  Stephanie broke off a small piece of the chocolate chip cookie she held and spoke before she popped it into her mouth. “Those stores are all over the Finger Lakes and it’s our distributor who gets the wines to them. It would be impossible to figure out which store or which person. And besides, maybe Eli got it wrong. Kids are always exaggerating. I should know. The twins are notorious for that.”

  “Stephanie’s right,” Madeline added. “But if you think it’s a concern, maybe you should call Deputy Hickman.”

  I cringed. “That would be my last move. In the meantime, if any of you hear anything, let me know.”

  Then Theo gave me a nudge. “Are you going to pass around the license number from the SUV?”

  “Oh my gosh. My mind is getting so befuddled lately. Can all of you write this down? I’ll also email it to you later.” I took out my phone and went to the Notes app. “It’s the license plate number Godfrey got from the white SUV that took off from the woods. Maybe you can keep an eye out if you spot a white SUV in any of your parking lots.”

  “I’ll let my staff know,” Rosalee said. “They’re always going on break outside in this warm weather.”