Bradley returned the favor with a quick squeeze on my knee. “I’ll park down the street this time and we can make our way to that garage from the other side. Best bet is to go through the neighbors’ backyards.”
“Harrumph. Sounds like this isn’t the first time you’ve done something of this sort.”
He chuckled. “We had to make our own entertainment as kids. Not a heck of a lot going on when you live in a small town.”
“Tell me about it. Penn Yan’s about as small as they get.”
He pulled out of the hotel’s parking lot and drove to where the street all but collided with Seneca Lake. “Now we’ll backtrack. I’ll park a few houses down. Make sure your phone’s on mute.”
“It is. Don’t worry.”
The only sound was the soft scuttle our feet made as they moved from pavement to grass. Thankfully the yards weren’t fenced in or we would have needed to double back. In a matter of minutes, we were behind the garage, now with its lights off. I could hear the woman’s voice but I had to strain to figure out what she said. Something about keeping it cool, or was she cold? I couldn’t tell.
Bradley and I edged closer to where they stood but still remained a good foot or two from the corner of the garage so as not to be spotted. The few feet made a difference and the voices were clearer.
“Do you have any idea what running an exclusive would do to our profits?” the man asked. “It’s not as if tawny port is released every day. Talk about obstinate. Time for a little more arm-twisting.”
“I didn’t drive all this way for business. Why don’t you follow me back to my place? It’s not that far.”
“You know why. Another time.”
“And another place for our poker games. At least till things cool down.”
“You know they won’t cool down until an arrest is made.”
I elbowed Bradley and leaned into his ear. “They’ve got to be talking about Brewer. They know something.”
He put a finger to his lips and nodded.
The man continued. “I suppose we should—”
And like that, his voice was drowned out by the sound of the Finger Lakes Railway Freight Service making one of its night runs to Geneva. Thank you, CSX, for mucking this up.
Between the blare of the horn and the locomotive engine noise, it was impossible to hear anything else. Apparently the couple under the tree reached the same conclusion because they darted across the street and into the Dresden Hotel’s parking lot.
“Too late now,” I said. “By the time we get over there, those two will be long gone.”
“Gone maybe, but not without spewing off about Henry and Brewer. I’m thinking the guy who wanted an exclusive release must have a liquor distribution business or a store at the very least.”
I fought hard to keep my voice low. “Libations. That has to be it. That’s the call Eli must have overheard. When he got me the caller ID, I recognized it as the main number for that chain of liquor stores but it was impossible to figure out where it originated. They’ve got a zillion stores in the Finger Lakes. Must be they wanted to have the Speltmores’ port as an exclusive and Henry said no.”
Bradley bit his lower lip, making him look even sexier. “How does that factor in for Brewer?”
“I’m not sure. Henry sent out an email to the wine trail endorsing this new cooperative for seasonal workers. I figured they were the ones blackmailing him but now I’m wondering if maybe it was about the tawny port and not the workers. And if that’s true, Henry hasn’t anted up for that one, which means the guy who just took off will press him even harder. Darn that stupid train.”
“No sense speculating, or hanging around here, for that matter. That couple’s probably on the road by now. We can continue this conversation at your house but I suggest we grab a drink at the Dresden Hotel.”
“We’re hardly dressed for the hotel.”
“They don’t care how you dress when you sit at the bar. Come on.”
Bradley took my hand and we crossed the street. In the distance I could still hear the faint sounds of the locomotive engine.
He opened the Dresden’s weathered wooden door and gazed around as I stepped inside. “They certainly live up to their sign out front that says warm and homey. Reminds me of those lakeside restaurants on Oneida Lake. Only this one is packed to the gills.”
“It’s Friday night in Penn Yan. This is as exciting as it gets. At least for the older crowd. Look around, there’s no one in here younger than forty.”
“You may want to take that back. The blonde with the miniskirt can’t be older than twenty-two.”
I gave him a nudge. “She’s a waitress. But the bartender looks old enough to be her grandfather. If we move fast we can nab seats next to each other. Looks like three of them are free in the middle.” It was a horseshoe-shaped bar that all but screamed rustic and I wasted no time grabbing a spot. “Talk about luck. Looks like this other seat’s occupied since there’s a bottle of Coors on the bar. Thank goodness it wasn’t the spot in between us.”
Bradley slid his stool out and sat. “Chances are the person would have moved, but yeah, you never know. Some people are really territorial when it comes to seats.” He gazed around the room and in that second it occurred to me why he insisted we stop here for a drink.
“You want to listen in to some gossip, don’t you?” I whispered.
He winked. “Why leave Dresden with a half-baked job? Chances are those poker players are pretty well-known around here. And someone was bound to notice the sheriff’s car. I say we sit back, enjoy our drinks and pray another train doesn’t blow through here.”
We both ordered wines from our WOW group. Madeline’s Chardonnay for me and Rosalee’s merlot for Bradley. No sooner did the bartender place the drinks in front of us than the occupant to my left sat and picked up his bottle of Coors. The bartender leaned toward him and chuckled, “What happened? Lose all your money?”
“Nah. You know me better than that. I would’ve kept playing until my luck changed.”
“Then why so early? It’s nowhere close to midnight.”
“Damn sheriff’s office decided to pay us a visit. I swear, Gary gets ornerier by the minute.”
“What? They busted your game and handed out desk appearance tickets? That would be a first.”
I gave Bradley a slight kick on the ankle and he returned it with a quick nod. We continued to sip our wine, pausing every few seconds to make eye contact so as not to look too obvious in our attempt to listen in.
The guy with the Coors gave it a good gulp and continued. “No tickets. No arrests. Only a not-so-friendly invitation to drop by his office tomorrow morning to answer a few questions about Brewer.”
“Excuse me a minute. Got to get Chuck over there another beer before he jumps over the counter.”
The bartender turned away and I immediately leaned toward Bradley, my back to the man with the Coors. I remained face-to-face with Bradley, too hesitant to say anything for fear it would spook the Coors guy. It seemed like an inordinate amount of time for the bartender to return but in reality, it was probably less than a minute or two.
“Okay, looks like everyone’s got a drink in their hand so I can hang here for a bit. What about Brewer? Does the sheriff’s office think someone in your poker group had an axe to grind and killed the guy?”
The Coors man shrugged. “Who the hell knows? Brewer had his own problems managing his workers. Rumor had it he had a beef or two with some of the guys but it got straightened out. Anyway, he didn’t have any beefs with the usual gang of card sharks and I made sure to keep a low profile. Barbara’s a different story. Personally, I’ve never been one to mix business with pleasure, but what the hidey-ho. Guess when things went south, they really went south. But she’s a damn good poker player and no one can read what’s going on in that mind of hers. At the table and anywhere else.”
The bartender nodded. “Yep. Seen her here and there. Not a bad looker for a woman her age. By the way, how are they coming along on your office?”
“The painters finished up yesterday but the electrician still has a bit more work to do. I expect to be open for business by the end of the week. Advertising is all set. Hey, before I forget, have a pen. Got a boatload of ’em. I carry them in my pocket all the time now. Good for business. Neat logo, huh?”
The guy reached in his pocket and handed the bartender a pen.
“I’d say the timing for your new enterprise was pretty convenient.”
“Not convenient, good planning.”
“Hey!” someone shouted from the end of the bar past Bradley. “Can we get some service over here?”
“Catch you later,” the bartender said before walking past us.
Business with pleasure. Woman her age. I’ll burst if we don’t get out of here.
“I don’t know about you,” I whispered to Bradley, “but I’ve got all I need right at the moment.”
He looked past me at the man with the Coors. “You don’t think you’ll want another drink?”
I watched as the bartender moved from patron to patron. “I think one drink is as far as I’m going to get tonight.”
Bradley squeezed my knee, left money on the bar, and took my elbow as we made our way to the door. Once outside and a few feet from the entrance, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You’re pretty good with innuendo.”
“I tried. If it was one of my screenplays, I could have perfected it. It’s tough trying to think fast.” Then I returned the favor by brushing his lips with mine. “Boy, did you ever make the right call by having us go in there. What were the chances we’d wind up next to one of the men from that poker game?’
“Fair to good. For a few of them it’s most likely their last stop before driving home.”
“So what do you think? That woman had to be Barbara Stanowicz, Brewer’s former secretary. Melissa told me she was classy and clever. But Melissa never mentioned her having any issues with Brewer. Said she retired and moved to Canandaigua.”
“Melissa’s a new hire. She wouldn’t be privy to that kind of information.”
“Trust me, I’m not ruling out anyone. Better yet, you can see for yourself back at my place. I’ve got something to show you.”
“I’m not quite sure how to take that.”
“On face value. Take that statement on face value. Not innuendo this time. I want to show you my suspect notebook complete with transparency overlaps.”
“Boy, if that isn’t a tantalizing invitation, I don’t know what is.”