Chapter Six

Eight hours later we were readying the main conference room in the back of the store for the book club meeting. Maria brought two big whiteboards that we sat up on easels.

The Hens, that’s what Erma and Helen liked to call themselves, had arrived with a list of suspects an arm long, and two different types of casseroles. Don brought some desserts his wife, Peggy, had made. One was a cake in the shape of a butterfly; the other was a cheesecake with white chocolate sauce that I kind of wanted to take home and eat the whole thing by myself.

I had no idea how stressful it would be talking about murder. We’d whittled down the suspects to about three, and each of them seemed to have more reason to kill the poor victim than Michael did.

“When we went to the wife’s house, she was one cold fish,” said Helen. “She was not happy about her, and I quote, ‘Lying, cheating, scumbag of a husband, having something on the side.’ As far as she’s concerned, he got what he deserved. Though, I heard when she was talking to the police that she had crocodile tears. I tell you, she did it.”

Erma nodded.

I’d erased a few of the other names we’d taken off the list, including my friend Shannon. Someone else had seen them arguing at the coffee shop. But there was no way she could do it. She’s a tiny thing and it takes a lot of force to kill someone with a wine bottle. At least, that’s what Don had found out from the coroner, Kane. I had plans to chat with him the next day.

“Oh, and that mistress.” Erma shook her head as she spoke. “That young woman needs to learn some manners. Didn’t even want to take the rolls and roast beef we brought her. Told us she was in mourning, that she didn’t know us, and then asked us to leave. So rude. Who turns away free food? Guilty people, that’s who. Probably eating her up inside.”

I had to bite back a smile. But wrote the mistress on the whiteboard. And was she a mistress if she thought she was married to Rick? I had to find out what all that was about.

“There’s also a new guy snooping around Michael’s winery,” Mrs. Whedon said. “Says he’s a friend and there to help with the harvest. Danny something. Shannon said he was a good guy.”

I wondered why she’d been out at the winery, but she did like a good Chardonnay, so who was I to judge? I wrote Danny Something on the board. I’d ask Shannon about him later, or better yet, maybe it was time I drove out to the winery to have a look for myself.

“So, all of them have motive,” I said. “Well, except for him.” I pointed to the guy helping Shannon. “We’ll need to find out why he showed up out of the blue. I don’t disagree that seems a bit suspicious.”

“Oh, I remember something the wife said,” Erma added. “They had a vacation planned, and she wanted Kane to release the body so they could get him buried and done with. She was still going to some place called the Maldives. I looked it up on Helen’s phone. It’s a pretty place but she doesn’t seem like the world traveler type. I’d be surprised if she’d ever been out of the States.”

“I agree,” Helen said. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed and neither was that mistress. Maybe that’s how he got away with the affair. The wife didn’t seem like she had any inkling about anything until all this happened. But the Maldives? Just seems a whole lot of fishy to me.”

Hmmmm. That did seem a bit much. No one could blame her for being angry but why the rush on burying the body?

“Don, look up countries that don’t have extradition treaties with the U.S. and I wonder if there’s a way to find out when that trip was booked.”

A few seconds later, Don pulled up a website and showed us all. The Maldives did not have an extradition treaty with the United States.

“You should share all this with the sheriff,” Mrs. Whedon said. “It might be enough to get Michael out of jail.”

I shrugged. “I will talk to him—I’d already planned to about some other things. Unfortunately, everything we have right now is circumstantial. We need proof. If we can show him that the wife booked the trip after the murder, that might help. Right now, I’d say she or the girlfriend are the best suspects. Now, how about we move on to choosing our book to read this month since that’s the real reason we’re here?”

There were some chuckles. “Okay,” I said, “one of the reasons.”

An hour later, we had picked out the book. I took the whiteboards to my office and locked them up. It wouldn’t do for anyone outside the group to see our little experiment. The hardest part would be trying to talk to my brother about it. He’d be mad if he discovered we’d been snooping. But they were busy at the station and maybe our little chat could provide some helpful background for him.

I sent him a text.

I’m making dinner tomorrow. Be here at seven.

I walked down the empty aisle to Michael’s booth and looked at the wine racks loaded with bottles of wine. Several slots were empty and I noted what kind of wines were in those missing bottles. Maybe one would match up with the murder weapon? Once I noted all the varieties of the missing wine bottles, I went back up to the register to compare sales receipts.

This effort took longer than I thought as Michael had sold way more wine than I had anticipated. There were three bottles unaccounted for: a Chardonnay, a pinot grigio and a rosé.

What had happened to those three bottles? And was the murder weapon among them? I needed to find out more about the bottle used to kill Rick.

I loaded George Clooney in the car and was about to turn on the ignition when my phone dinged.

Kane and Jake want to know if you’re making lasagna?

He must have been playing poker with them. Getting them all to the house would mean I could ask questions without him getting too suspicious. And I might also be able to say things like, “I overheard Helen and Erma talking about the wife and her trip to the Maldives that she’s insisting she’s still going.” Oh, and I had so many questions for Kane after what Don said about the force it would take to kill someone like that. And how tall they might have to be.

Yes. I texted him back.

All I had to do was work a full day, go to the grocery store, come up with a plan to interrogate my brother and his friends, and make a decent lasagna.

George nudged my shoulder.

“I know. I know. You’re ready to run around like a maniac. Let’s get you home.”

I’d have to add making a wine run to my list. Perhaps Danny could help me determine if any bottles were missing from the winery itself.

The next afternoon, Don promised to lock up the store for me so I could get home and start the lasagna. I’d made the sauce early in the morning and left it in the Crock-Pot to simmer all day.

Since I had to drive past the winery to get home, I decided to stop and get a few bottles to restock. I was about to turn right at the fork in the road on Michael’s property when I saw Shannon sitting on the porch with her knees pulled up, and her face in her hands as if she were crying. My insides twisted into a knot. I couldn’t imagine what she must be going through. There was a blond guy sitting next to her, who I didn’t recognize. He’d better not have been the one to make her cry.

I turned the car to the left up the private drive and pulled up to Michael’s farmhouse. It had the same kind of ornate trim mine did but was painted a deep blue with cream-colored trim. Instead of a big red barn like most of the properties around here had, Michael’s was painted blue with the logo of his wine on the front. He kept everything neat and tidy.

Shannon lifted her head. Her tear-stained face was my undoing. I breathed deep and then opened the door. After letting George out, I headed her way. My dog seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and didn’t run around like his normal crazy self when he was outside without a leash.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to her. She dabbed at her nose. “I’m not sure I’ve ever cried so much as I have the last few days,” she said. “Everything was going so well, and now it’s all upside down.”

“It will get sorted. We all know Michael is innocent.”

She nodded.

“I should get back to the vines. I’ll let you two chat,” the man beside her said as he stood up. “And she’s right, Michael will be fine.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go,” Shannon said. “This is my best friend Ainsley. And, Ains, this is Danny. He’s been helping with the winery while Michael is a—” That last part came out as a whisper.

I stuck out my hand. He shook it. “It’s nice to meet you. But I really should be getting back to help out. They’re right in the middle of pruning and it’s key that it’s done right.” He walked off.

I sat down beside my friend, and George stretched out in the grass to our right.

“What happened?”

She just stared out into the yard for the longest time. “He didn’t do it, Ainsley.”

“I know that,” I said. “I have absolutely one hundred percent no doubts about it. We just have to find a way to prove it.”

“His lawyer says it isn’t looking good. Even though the evidence is circumstantial, and that it makes no sense he would use his own product to kill someone, the police seem to think they’ve found their man. I don’t know what to do. And then I came over to check on things and found something that broke my heart.”

“What?” Did she find something in the house?

She stood up and motioned for me to follow her.

Danny was in the vineyards helping to prune the vines, like he said. It appeared he knew what he was talking about. But I had no way of knowing. I hoped he wasn’t taking advantage of Shannon.

“Who is that guy?”

Shannon cleared her throat. “Danny? He and Michael have known each other for a long time. They used to work for a big liquor company before Michael opened this place. Danny’s company was also interested in investing but with all this…craziness, I doubt anyone will want to touch the place.”

I wasn’t sure how to ask her what I really wanted to know. “Are you sure he’s—uh?” Clever girl. I just couldn’t figure out a way to ask her if he was on the up and up.

“He’s a good guy. I’m not sure what we’d do around here without him. Like he said, everything has to be pruned before winter gets here. In other parts of the world they do it in February or March, but Michael’s a wine genius. He figured out the best time was before winter here in Texas. Even though ours are pretty mild, one freeze and the vines can be ruined if we don’t protect them now.”

“So, what is it, besides the obvious, that has you so upset?”

She put her arm in mine and guided me to the far side of the barn.

I gasped, and George, who had been trotting along behind us, barked.

There on the side of the barn in big white spray-painted letters was the word: MURDERER.

“When did it happen?”

“I don’t know. Danny called me this afternoon when I was closing up. He said I needed to come out so he could show me something. I guess he didn’t want to upset me. But he found it first thing this morning. Someone must have been out here last night.”

It was cruel. I couldn’t imagine anyone in town would do something like this. One of the things I loved about Sweet River was that people were generally quite kind. It was a college town so sure there was some vandalism or craziness every once in a while, but this was just cruel.

“Did you call my brother?”

She pursed her lips. “Like he’d care.”

Crud. I’d walked right into that. “He does care. I know it may seem unfair but he’s just doing his job. And because Michael is his friend, he has to do it by the book. It’s hard to understand. I mean, even I don’t get it sometimes. But he’s taking absolutely no joy in any of this.” I’d seen the strain on his face when those two women were fighting and every time Michael’s name came up, he sort of winced.

While I didn’t like it any more than Shannon, he was doing his best. Of that, I was certain. My brother came across as kind of laid-back and easygoing, but he was smart and thoughtful. He’d figure this out.

“Ainsley, I know I’m asking a lot, but will you help me?”

“Yes. Anything you need,” I said.

“Thank you. I heard about your murder board. Promise me that you’ll find who killed that poor man. It wasn’t my Michael. And I need him out of that place as soon as possible.”

Did everyone in town know about the dumb murder board? My brother would kill me if he found out. I wanted to say I wasn’t a detective or that I had no idea how to catch a murderer, but I didn’t. I’d help her any way I could. I was a good listener and observer. Maybe I could give my brother the information the book club had picked up and it’d make a difference.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen,” I promised. Then I hugged my friend. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut to keep from crying but when I opened them, I found Danny watching carefully under the brim of his ball cap.

I wasn’t so sure about that guy. Everything about him showing up, friend or not, was a bit too convenient.

“What’s your friend Danny’s last name?”

“Avery. Why?”

I squeezed her tight and let go. “Just seems familiar. Maybe I saw him in the store or something. Thought I might know him.” That was a bold-faced lie. I was just curious.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “He’s been staying in Michael’s house and helping out here since the night Michael was arrested.”

What? “Did you call him? How did he find out if he doesn’t live here?”

She frowned. “He’s a friend, Ains. But I don’t know. I assumed one of the workers called him. Michael has an emergency contact list in the winery office. I’m pretty sure Danny is at the top of the list. He’s been around a lot the last few years and really is a good friend.”

I smiled. “You’ve met me, I’m pretty much suspicious of everyone. I’m sure he’s a great guy.” Still it might be worth checking Mr. Avery out. Even though I should have been grateful that he was there to keep things running for my friend.

George barked. And I remembered why I’d come. “Hey, I’m having my brother and his friends over for some lasagna. Would you like to come?”

“No thanks. I mean, think about it, Ainsley—that’s one awkward night waiting to happen. And I really want to get back home. My head hurts and I’ve got to figure out a way to get the barn cleaned up. I don’t know what we’ll do if we have to repaint. It’s not cheap.”

I bit my lip and thought for a second. “Tell you what, you don’t worry about that paint. I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Ains.”

I held up a hand. “It’s the least I can do. You don’t worry about it. But I do need to buy three or four bottles of wine.”

She smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she guided me to the front of the barn where they sold wine and did the tastings.

Danny watched us as we made our way around. He was good-looking with his blond curls and dark brown eyes and he had a nice smile.

“Hey, Shannon, I’ll catch up with you in just a bit. I need some Chardonnay and the Cabernet. I just wanted to ask Danny something real quick.”

Either he’d help me determine if the murder weapon came from the winery or I’d get to use my creep radar up close and personal to ferret out his motives for coming to Sweet River at just the right time to see Rick murdered.

He glanced up and smiled. I returned it. He really was a handsome man.

“Hi, I won’t keep you,” I said as I made my way through the vines. “I just had a quick favor to ask.”

“Whatever you need.” His voice was light and friendly. He did seem to be a nice guy. Whew. The last thing Shannon and Michael needed was someone taking advantage.

“Great. Would it be possible for you to take a look and see if any of the bottles of wine are missing? Like maybe there is an inventory list or something?”

His eyebrows drew together. “The police asked for the same thing. I made copies of everything and we did a count. Nothing was missing—at least as far as we can tell.”

“Okay great. I just didn’t know if we needed to count the crates we have in the back or something. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

I started to walk away and then stopped. I turned around to find him still watching me.

“One more thing: Shannon says you guys have been friends for a long time.”

He pulled the shears out from his belt. “We have been, probably six years. I’m really proud of all that Michael has accomplished.”

“Me, too. Do you know anyone who might want to frame him like this?”

Danny shook his head. “No. You know him—he’s the nicest guy I ever met. When we used to work together, he gave me one of his best accounts. And then when he left, to start his business, he made sure all of his clients asked for me. I owe him everything.”

“That sounds like him.” This guy didn’t sound like a killer any more than Michael. Time to move on. “Thanks for helping them. I don’t know what Shannon would do right now otherwise.”

He shrugged. “No place I’d rather be.”

I waved goodbye and went to find Shannon.

Now, all I had to do was convince my brother to tell me everything he knew about the case without him realizing that was what he was doing. And it had to be in front of his friends.

Sigh.

Shannon handed me the bag of wine, each bottle carefully wrapped. She was wearier than I’d ever seen her.

I was going into the lion’s den, but I’d do anything for my best friend.

Anything.