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“We brought you some cookies, dear,” said Myrtle. “Just to let you know we’ve been thinking of you.”
Miles quickly added a disclaimer. “The cookies are courtesy of Myrtle. I didn’t bake them.”
Julia gave Miles a curious look, but continued smiling. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Miss Myrtle. I appreciate that. These will make for a nice break for me.”
“Oh, have you been working? We’re not interrupting anything important, are we?” Myrtle managed to look both sweetly concerned and rather vulnerable, as if being hurried out the door would hurt her feelings terribly.
Julia quickly said, “Let’s have a seat, why don’t we? I should probably take a break, anyway.” She led them over to some very modern chairs. Myrtle wasn’t at all sure they were certified as comfortable for octogenarians, but was surprised when she sat down. They were a good deal comfier than they’d originally appeared. Whether she’d be able to extricate herself out of the chair was another matter altogether, however.
Julia gave Myrtle and Miles a bright smile. “I’ve just been working at going through my dad’s stuff.”
Myrtle tsked. “Such a difficult task.”
“Not really,” said Julia blithely. “It’s been strangely cathartic. Also, I feel as if I’m doing something good for mankind because there is a huge amount of clothing that I can donate. They’re nice clothes, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve also been throwing out the stuff Liv left behind.”
Myrtle said, “Oh, Liv isn’t living here any longer. Did she forget to pack many items?”
“Old makeup, mismatched socks. And some of the ‘artwork’ Liv created when she was intoxicated,” said Julia in a disparaging tone.
“Is Liv an artist?” asked Miles.
Julia snorted. “She thinks she is. And now I have to lug it to the dump.”
“May I see some of the art?” asked Myrtle.
Julia stood up. “Absolutely. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. Maybe you’ll like something, and I’ll be spared having to toss it out.” She strode from the room to collect it.
Miles said, “Myrtle, why on earth would you want bad art? I thought you had enough of that when Elaine was working through her art hobby.”
“Well, I’m not opposed to getting free décor, as long as it’s not completely frightful. But I’d also like to sneak into Liv’s mind a little. Maybe we can get a clue as to what was going through her head by viewing her art.”
Miles appeared doubtful at this. And indeed, Julia returned with a couple of canvasses with paint slopped on them with no apparent rhyme or reason.
Julia laughed at Myrtle’s expression. “I told you they were bad.”
“Are they like that on purpose? Or did Liv suffer a mild stroke in the middle of creating them?”
“Who knows?” said Julia, giving the canvasses a disgusted look. “Even the impressionistic one is a mess. I guess she got worse when she drank too much. Don’t worry, I’ll load them in the car with the rest of the stuff that’s heading to the dump.” She dropped the paintings unceremoniously on the floor, then sat in another of the chairs. “I suppose you heard about Isabella.”
Myrtle said, “Yes. Miles and I were actually the ones who discovered her. Such a terrible tragedy. Isabella was a lovely young woman with so much promise.”
Julia’s eyes opened wide. “Wow, I had no idea you were the ones to find her. That must have been awful.”
“It was quite a horrible surprise. Miles had driven me over to Serenity Springs so I could interview Isabella for the paper.”
Julia nodded slowly. “It makes sense that she’d have been looking for positive press. Having a murder at your winery couldn’t be good for business.” She pursed her lips. “Now there have been two murders there. I’m not sure how Serenity Springs is going to find a way through this.”
Miles cleared his throat. “Would you ever consider purchasing the land and winery? As a second tasting room?”
“That would nearly double the size of our property. We’d have to really think about that kind of move.” Julia gave them a wry look. “Especially since right now I seem to be a suspect in Isabella’s murder. Buying her property would enhance that motive. And it doesn’t need enhancing. Although it might be nice if some of the winery’s equipment and tools go up for auction. We could use some updated things.”
“Are the police giving you a hard time?” asked Myrtle, looking sweetly concerned.
“Of course they are. It’s their job to hassle people. But I had nothing to do with Isabella’s death.”
Myrtle asked, “Oh, were you able to give the police an alibi? That’s wonderful.”
“I wish I could have. But I didn’t have one. I had to get away from the winery because Liv was moving out, and I didn’t want to be around her. I was at my own place, packing to move into the winery.”
Myrtle said, “How do you feel about all that’s happened? I know you loved this place growing up, and there’s a lot of family history here. But it’s also a spot that’s probably created a lot of stress for you in the last few years.”
Julia nodded. “I have mixed feelings about Greystone Grapes. There are dark times and happy times all mixed together. I guess I mostly feel ambivalent . . . like I’m waiting to see how I should feel. How it all shakes out.” She sighed. “I thought I was going to feel totally different about all of this, you know? I’ve been waiting to return to the vineyard for years. I thought I’d have a smile pasted on my face the whole time. But instead, I feel this enormous weight on my shoulders.”
Myrtle said, “You’ve taken on quite a mantle, haven’t you? All the responsibility for the staff at Greystone Grapes, of course. But you’ve also got to carry on family tradition.”
“Right. And not screw anything up on my watch.” Julia paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “It’s been keeping me up at night, too. I’ve been feeling pretty inadequate. I can’t help but wonder if my father was right after all. Maybe I’m just not suited for the job.”
“Nonsense,” said Myrtle briskly. “There’s no one better suited. You love the place and you’ll do a wonderful job running it. Besides, you’ll have an excellent right-hand man to help you out. Ben Foster is a very capable young man.”
Now Miles was frowning at Myrtle. He clearly suspected matchmaking might be afoot again.
Myrtle continued, “I’d imagine it would be easy working with Ben, too, since you both have common interests. When I spoke with him the other day, I was so very impressed with him.”
Julia tilted her head curiously. “Really? What did he say?”
“Gracious, some of it might have been over my head,” said Myrtle, falling easily into the befuddled old lady again. “But I know he talked about sustainability goals and whatnot.”
She was rewarded by a flicker of interest in Julia’s eyes.
Myrtle said, “Ben had been concerned about the direction the vineyard had been going in under your father’s management. He seems to really care about the quality of the wines.”
Julia took this in for a few moments. “Well, that’s good to hear. I haven’t had a chance to speak with Ben yet since my father died. I mean, aside from very brief phone calls and a couple of minutes at the funeral reception. He asked me to grab a coffee with him after the memorial service, but I was too exhausted to take him up on it. Then I’ve been so focused on clearing things out of here that I haven’t made the time to have a meeting with Ben. I’ll go ahead and schedule that.”
Myrtle nodded. “After family deaths, it seems as if the list of tasks goes on and on. And you mentioned you’ve had a rough time sleeping, too.”
Julia made a face. “I dread trying to sleep. I think about everything I need to do.”
Myrtle perked up. “I have excellent advice for insomnia.”
Miles made an inelegant snort as if he were suppressing laughter. Myrtle gave him a cold look. “What is it, Miles?”
“It’s just that you have chronic insomnia.”
Myrtle said, “And who better to give advice than someone who experiences it?” She turned back to Julia. “You should make a brain dump before you turn in. Grab a notebook and list everything that comes into your head that you need to accomplish. Writing it all down should help clear your mind enough so you can drift off.”
Julia said, “Actually, that’s great advice. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
Myrtle said, “And make sure you turn your alarm system on at night. I’m sure Gerald had one installed, correct?”
Julia nodded. “It’s not something I ordinarily use.”
“Under the circumstances, it might be prudent if you turn it on, just for the peace of mind. After all, there have been two murders next door. Perhaps your subconscious is trying to keep you alert to any signs of danger by not allowing you to sleep.”
Julia said slowly, “That’s a good point. I’ll admit, the whole thing has made me a little jumpy. I’m usually a matter-of-fact person, but I’ve been feeling like I need to watch my back. I’m often at the winery alone while I’m sorting through things.”
“Maybe you should bring Ben back to the office,” said Myrtle.
Miles rubbed his forehead as if it hurt.
“Again, not a bad idea. I’d thought it would be easier for me to clear things out without Ben being underfoot, but it makes sense to have someone else around.”
Miles said, “Of course, you do have a receptionist or bartender at the front.”
“Only sometimes, though,” said Julia. “We’ve had limited hours this week.” She rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes briefly. “This is all just crazy. I can’t believe Isabella is gone. What a nightmare.” She sighed. “I feel sort of guilty, too, because I’ve always felt kind of jealous of her.”
“Jealous?” asked Myrtle.
Julia nodded. “Just because she owned a winery and was in complete control of it. Isabella came up with ideas and implemented them. When I looked at my own life, I felt like it fell short in comparison. There were days when I didn’t even feel like an independent adult.”
“But you had a job, your own money, and a place of your own to live,” said Miles, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Julia said in a rueful voice, “A low-paying job, very little money, and a place that I rented. But I appreciate the kind words. I loved my job, but it wasn’t what I’d dreamed of doing. And there were some months where I had to ask my mom for a little money to help fill in the gaps. I’ve never felt very successful. But now that I’ve got the winery, I really want to make a go of it. I want to make sure the vineyard continues thriving, even if it means a lot more sleepless nights. I’d feel awful if the business took a nosedive right when I ended up at the helm.”
Myrtle said, “I’m sure you’re going to do a marvelous job running the winery. It’s what you were born to do, after all.” She paused. “Going back to these awful crimes. Have you thought any more about who might be responsible?”
Julia shrugged. “Well, last time we talked about it, I thought it might be Frank or Isabella. It’s clearly not Isabella. So now I’m wondering if my instincts are off altogether. Maybe Liv is responsible. She sure was spitting mad when I asked her to clear out. I mean, really mad. I was starting to think I could be a crime victim, myself. It’s obvious she has a real temper.”
“I can imagine,” said Myrtle. Then she frowned. “I hesitate to say this, dear, but I’ve heard some talk around town lately. That your father and you had recently argued, and that Gerald was planning to change his will?”
Julia looked weary. “Probably the same talk the police heard. They’ve asked me about that, too. I figured I’d already lost the vineyard as soon as he and I argued. Dad was the kind of person who followed through on his threats. I was shocked when the lawyer said he’d left it to me. If there had been any other way to keep the vineyard in the family, I’m sure he’d have written me out of his will. But I was his only child. Dad was an only child too, so he didn’t have any siblings or nieces and nephews to leave it to.” Her eyes narrowed. “I have the feeling I know where this particular rumor started. It sounds like Liv has been running her mouth. She’s a very vindictive person.”
Myrtle supposed that being forced to leave one’s home at a moment’s notice might put someone in a bad mood. But she gave an understanding nod. Then she looked at her watch. “Gracious, we should be letting you get back to your work. Miles and I didn’t intend to stay this long. I hope you enjoy your cookies.”
Miles gave Julia a weak and apologetic smile regarding the future consumption of the cookies.
“I certainly will. Oh, wait a minute.” Julia walked over to the bar and reached behind it, coming back over with two bottles of wine. “One for each of you. I’m so sorry you’ve had such a rough time lately.”
Myrtle looked slightly confused, and Julia clarified. “Finding bodies, I mean.”
“Oh, right,” said Myrtle. “Yes. Very, very disturbing.” Although, of course, it really wasn’t as disturbing as it should have been. It had become somewhat habitual.
A few minutes later, Miles and Myrtle were back in the car, heading back. “Did you get what you were looking for from all that?” he asked.
“I think so. It was interesting how Julia was talking about Isabella, wasn’t it?”
“Was it?” asked Miles with a frown.
“She just seemed sort of coldly clinical about Isabella’s death. Julia appeared more interested in whether there would be an auction for the Serenity Springs’ tools.”
Miles said, “Well, after all, she’d pegged Isabella for a killer previously. The two women weren’t best friends or anything. It sounded like Julia barely knew her.”
“She did mention being jealous of her, as well. That Isabella owned a vineyard and had complete control over it.”
Miles said, “Considering that was what she dreamed about, I can imagine she was envious.” He paused. “I’m taking you back to your place, I’m assuming?”
“We could go out to lunch at the diner. That might be fun.”
Miles made a face. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood to have fun.”
“Don’t be an old fogey, Miles. It’s not becoming. What are you in the mood for, if not to enjoy yourself?”
“I thought I’d take a stab at the book club book. The meeting is tomorrow, after all.”
Now it was Myrtle’s turn to make a face. “Don’t remind me. I’m not reading the tripe they assigned for this month.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Who knows?” said Myrtle. “I took one look at the cover and decided to pass. It had unicorns on it. Sparkly ones.”
Miles quirked an eyebrow. “You judged a book by its cover? That’s considered a no-no for readers.”
“This particular book was crying out to be judged. Anyway, I was distracted by the theme for this month’s meeting.”
Miles smiled. “Guilty pleasures?”
“Yes. Who on earth came up with that?”
“Blanche, I believe,” said Miles.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Blanche is becoming increasingly erratic as she ages. My understanding is that we’ll all offer our guilty pleasure reads, then the group will vote on the title they most want to read next month. Correct?”
“That’s my understanding,” said Miles.
“Why do I have the horrible feeling that our picks won’t be chosen?”
Miles said, “I prefer to stay optimistic about our chances.”
Myrtle sniffed. “Sadly, I’m older and wiser than you, Miles. No one will vote on our choices. What’s yours?”
Miles was cagey. “You’ll have to find out at the meeting.”
“Then that will be the only interesting thing about book club.” Myrtle sighed. “Well, if you’re going to be trying to cram in this month’s selection, I suppose I’ll just piddle around the house this afternoon. Maybe I’ll watch Tomorrow’s Promise.” She gave Miles a sideways glance.
“You won’t be able to tempt me with the show today. I’m determined to give this month’s book a chance.”
Myrtle said, “That’s very noble of you. And quite surprising.”
“It’s only because someone pointed out that I hadn’t contributed much to the discussion for the last three or four months.”
Myrtle said, “Because you hadn’t read the books.”
“Correct. Last month, Sherry gave me a hurt look when she realized I hadn’t read her selection. It occurred to me that perhaps I was hurting people’s feelings. That I was being too judgy with what I read.”
Myrtle gave him a wry look. “You’ll be sorry for being such a gentleman. You’re about to suffer an untold ordeal, I promise you.”
“You can’t tell it’s that bad from the cover.”
Myrtle said, “Just let me know your thoughts when you finish the thing.” As Miles pulled into Myrtle’s driveway, she groaned. “Erma is working in her front yard again. Maybe she won’t see me.”
“I thought you were supposed to be nice to her. Per Wanda.”
Myrtle said, “But I was. I lent her a shovel. That’s as nice as I can possibly force myself to be.”
Fortunately, Myrtle was somehow able to slink past Erma, who seemed to be whistling off-key to herself as she vigorously worked in her yard. Thanking her lucky stars, she locked the door behind her.