“Don’t go near that dead thing!” I shouted. “Drop it! Drop it now!”
A nasty-looking rat or mole carcass dangled from the dog’s mouth and Charlie wasn’t about to give it up. I took a step toward him but he bolted and took off, returning a few seconds later with something else in his mouth.
This time it was a fairly new baseball hat with the Speltmore Winery logo on it. The rim looked as if it had been trampled by a herd of cows but the rest of the hat appeared to be new. Its bright red color hadn’t started to fade due to the sun.
“Give me that,” I directed the dog. This time he acquiesced. “Guess someone will have to buy a new hat, huh, dog? I suppose we can set it out in our lost and found since most visitors frequent more than one winery on the trail.”
When I got back to the house, the landline’s answering machine light was flashing and I pushed the message button. It was Godfrey and I remembered I was supposed to call him. His message was brief and to the point—“Call me, huh? Did the sheriff’s deputies identify the body?”
I immediately returned the call. “So sorry, but after I went to the tasting room to tell the staff what happened, I came home and called Eli’s house. His mother all but had a meltdown.”
“Can’t say I blame her. What mother wants to hear their kid found a dead body? Any idea who it was? I mean, maybe it was a missing person the sheriff’s office was looking for.”
“No idea. And I can’t call Gladys Pipp because she’s not working tomorrow. She told me she was off on Sundays when I ran into her at Morgan’s Grocery in Penn Yan, which by the way is running a sale on its subs.”
“You’re lucky you’ve got a good information source at the Yates County Sheriff’s Office.”
“No kidding. Gladys is the only person who doesn’t have a perpetual scowl on her face. And she really dishes out the intel when I bring her Francine’s jellies or jams. And, since she’s the secretary, she always knows what kind of mood Grizzly Gary is in.”
“Yeah. About that, don’t be surprised if he pays you a visit for an official statement.”
“Oh, trust me, he will. At least this time the victim had nothing to do with me or Two Witches Winery. Still, I’m curious as all get-up-and-go, so first thing Monday I’m calling Gladys.”
“Whatever you do, stay out of it. You don’t need to add more drama to your life. Enjoy the next few weeks before you go back to the city.”
“Easy for you to say. I’m missing out on a beach weekend at the Hamptons and all sorts of stuff. In fact, the high point of this coming week is the WOW meeting at Billsburrow Winery.”
“Take notes. Maybe you can use it in one of your screenplays.”
“Highly doubtful. The Wineries of the West, or should I just say WOW, are notorious for gossip-sharing and rumormongering. Still, it was a good idea for the six neighboring wineries to form our own close-knit circle. And Madeline Martinez does put out some fabulous cookies.”
“See, you’re having fun already. Keep me posted if you find out more about the body. And if the sheriff’s office calls one of our forensic entomologists on the case, I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Godfrey.”
As soon as I got off the phone, I gave Charlie a handful of kibble and, still hungry, stuck a Stouffers eggplant parmesan in the microwave for myself. Eight minutes later I chomped down on the soft chewy cheese and tasty eggplant before plunking myself on the couch with my laptop. Like it or not, the screenplay wasn’t about to write itself. At a little before ten I switched on the TV, only to be astounded by Cara and Kenneth on Channel 13’s nightly news.
“Did the sheriff’s office in Yates County indicate any signs of foul play, Kenneth?” Cara asked.
“My notes call it a suspicious death, but that could mean anything. For our viewers who just tuned in, a body belonging to a middle-aged male was found in a wooded area on Seneca Lake across from Lake View Winery. Cause of death is under investigation and no identification has been made. If you have any information you are asked to contact the Yates County Sheriff’s Office. The number is at the bottom of our screen. And now, on to the July Fourth activities in our region. Let’s begin with Seneca’s Lake’s ‘Lights Around the Lake.’”
I lowered the sound and stared at the screen. Snapshots of Seneca Lake followed one another as the TV anchors told their audience about the wine trail’s official welcome to summer. Wineries, businesses, cottages, and camps purchased red lights and placed them all around the lake. As soon as it was dusk, the vision was spectacular. In addition, a number of lakeside bars and restaurants held their own celebrations. Unfortunately, I knew all too well what was about to happen—the area across from Catherine’s winery would become the latest hotspot for lookie-loos and curiosity seekers. At least they wouldn’t be trampling in her vineyards.
The next morning, I moseyed down to the winery at a little past ten. The bowl of corn flakes I’d eaten two hours ago barely made a dent in my hunger, but one of Fred’s breakfast paninis was bound to do the trick.
I handed Lizzie the red hat Charlie found and asked her to put it in the lost and found. Then I headed straight for the bistro. No sooner had I said hi to Fred and asked for a bacon, egg, and cheese panini than Clarence, the deputy I sort of met yesterday, approached me.
“Uh, good morning, Miss Ellington. Maybe you remember me from yesterday. I’m Clarence Eustis and Deputy Hickman sent me here to get an official statement from you. I already got one from Theodore Buchman next door. Is Norrie short for a full name? I’ll need your full name.”
“Norrie is my full name and I don’t know what I can tell you that I didn’t already tell you and your boss yesterday.”
“He needs it in writing. Do you mind?”
Like I have a choice.
“That’s fine. I’ll get us some coffees and you can take more notes. Did you want anything to eat?”
“I can’t be seen eating on the job but coffee is fine.”
I did a mental eye roll and motioned Clarence to a bistro table off to the side. Then I quickly asked Fred to bring us some coffees.
“Okay,” I said to Clarence. “Start taking notes.”
For the next minute or two I gave him the complete story once again and he seemed satisfied. Then I leaned my elbow into the table and looked him in the eye. “Do you know who the victim is? I swear I won’t say a word.”
Clarence shook his head. “No ID on the body. And no cell phone either. Someone didn’t want him found or identified.”
“What about time of death? Can you at least tell me that?”
“I don’t know. Honestly. The coroner and his crew got the guy on the gurney and took off. But the coroner did wager a guess.”
“A guess?”
“Yeah. He said, ‘My guess is the body’s been here a day, two at most.’”
Wonderful. Godfrey’s flies could have told me that.
“Okay, one more question and I’ll leave you alone. How come you’re here and not Deputy Hickman?”
“Gary, I mean Deputy Hickman, got word this morning that the fingerprints belonging to the victim didn’t match anything in our state database or the federal database either. That means it’s a John Doe. And a John Doe requires a very lengthy protocol beginning with showing photos of the deceased to area businesses, hospitals, and medical offices for possible identification. He’s making the rounds at the wineries as we speak.”
“Because of the shirt the guy was wearing?”
“It’s the only clue we have so far.”
“So there’s a strong possibility Deputy Hickman will be in here today, huh?”
“Your winery is on the list. But not until tomorrow.”
I thanked him for the advanced warning, and when he left, I immediately grabbed my breakfast panini and devoured it. Whatever the circumstances surrounding that man’s death, it had nothing to do with me, my winery, or any of the WOW wineries, for that matter. I was positive the guy had been deliberately run down and dumped in the woods, but there was no reason for me to get involved.
Satisfied I could skip through the next couple of weeks unscathed, I treated myself to a sweet dessert and grabbed a strawberry tart from the bistro’s pastry selection. No sooner had I wiped the sticky jelly from the sides of my lips than Fred called out, “Catherine Trobert is on the phone for you. Lizzie transferred the call to our extension.”
“Thanks. She must want to know if I heard anything more about that body.”
The phone was behind the counter and I nudged past Fred and Emma to take the call.
Catherine’s voice was shaky at best and for a minute I thought she was going to hyperventilate. “Norrie, this is wretched. Absolutely wretched.”
“I know. Having a dead body appear on one’s property is troublesome, to say the least.”
“Forget troublesome. That deputy thinks our winery might have had something to do with the man’s death.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. They don’t even know who the guy is. The assistant deputy, Clarence Eustis, was just in here and he said Deputy Hickman was going around the lake to see if anyone could provide a positive ID.”
“Not anymore.”
“Huh?”
“I provided a positive ID. The man is Davis Brewer and he’s the manager for the seasonal workers that some of us employ.”
“Manager? Like organization leader or union leader?”
“I suppose. Why?”
“Because Delia Speltmore mentioned something about her husband having issues with the workers cooperative but I didn’t pay much attention. But why on earth would Deputy Hickman implicate your winery?”
“The coroner found our business card in one of Brewer’s pockets with a note on the back that read, ‘I wouldn’t wait too long if I were you.’ It was in my husband’s handwriting.”
“Good grief. That could be anything! Like paying an overdue bill or picking up someone’s prescription. Just because it was written on the back of a business card doesn’t mean it had anything to do with that business. Heck, I write notes on all sorts of scrap paper.”
“Unfortunately, the Yates County Sheriff’s Office doesn’t concur. And that’s not all. Brewer and my husband met here last week to review the contract and it didn’t go well. Everyone in the tasting room could hear them arguing from the office. Then my husband picked up the phone in front of Brewer and called someone else about using their services prior to storming off for the vineyard. I’m not sure if Brewer followed him.”
“Arguing doesn’t translate into murder. And I’m saying murder because, well, uh, what else could it be?”
“Indeed. Although Deputy Hickman was very careful to use the words suspicious death.”
“What does Grizzly Gary intend to do now?”
“He intends to question all of our employees and go over a time line of Brewer’s death with my husband and me.”
“That’s horrible. Have you called your attorney?”
“I’ve done something better. I called Steven. He’s licensed in New York as well as Maine and New Jersey.”
Oh, God, no! Don’t tell me Steven’s coming. And just when I thought I’d be scot-free.
“Is he, I mean, does he—”
“He has to finish up a case but he intends to be here the end of next week. Meanwhile, we’ll communicate daily on the phone. Anyway, Norrie, I wanted you to know because if there is a silver lining in all of this, it will be when you and Steven can reunite.”
In that instant every bit of moisture evaporated from my mouth. “That’s good to know.”
“Are you all right, Norrie?” Emma asked. She added a tray of hot cinnamon buns to the pastry shelf and walked toward me. “You’re holding on to the receiver but you already put it back on the wall phone.”
“I’ve been better. Deputy Hickman thinks the Troberts might have had something to do with Davis Brewer’s death.”
“Is that the body you found? They were able to identify it?”
“Uh-huh. He’s, I mean he was the manager for the seasonal employees.”
“And they think the Troberts were involved? How awful. I hope they find a good lawyer.”
“They won’t have to look too far. They’ve called their son Steven. He’s a criminal lawyer in Portland, Maine.”
“At least this is one investigation you can skip.”
“Skip? Are you nuts? I’ve got to figure out who flattened Davis Brewer before Steven Trobert makes his appearance in our winery. Reunite my you-know-what! He’s a few years older than me and managed to successfully ignore me throughout my entire high school experience. Last thing I need is Catherine playing matchmaker with me and her hoity-toity son. If ever there was a reason for me to solve a suspicious death, this is it. What did she say? Something about the end of next week? Oh my gosh, I’d better move fast.”