Chardonnayed to Rest Read online

  “That’s right. I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  “Me, too. Elsbeth’s niece, Yvonne, couldn’t sell that B & B fast enough, but she knew it would be a tough sale with all that land. Fortunately, she was able to have it divided up so we could buy the property for vineyards and someone else could buy the B & B.”

  “Did she find a buyer for the business?”

  “Uh-huh. I’m not sure who, but she said they were thrilled to run a bed and breakfast in the Finger Lakes.”

  “Did she say anything else? Like what she plans to do?”

  “Not really. She was kind of tight-lipped about it. Can you blame her?”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “Anyway, let me know if you decide to poke around regarding that crummy water hog of Rosalee’s.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “At least you don’t have to find a murderer this time.”

  “Don’t say that out loud!”

  “You’re not superstitious are you?”

  “No, just careful.”

  I waved good-bye to the other ladies in the parking lot and drove home. Maybe I was just a tad superstitious, but at least I wasn’t downright looney, like Glenda from our tasting room. I still couldn’t believe I let her hold that ridiculous séance to contact Elsbeth’s restless spirit. Stephanie was right. This time I’d be snooping around to dig up dirt, not a dead body.

  Chapter 2

  Theo Buchman was putting wine bottles into their rustic wooden bins when I stepped inside the Grey Egret’s tasting room. The place was in full swing, with every seat taken, and I imagined it wasn’t much different at my winery. At least Cammy would have things under control.

  “Hey, stranger!” he shouted. “What brings you to our neck of the woods so early in the day? Aren’t they keeping you busy enough up the hill?”

  I walked closer to the wine bins. “Not if I can help it. I’m just the official overseer, or so I keep telling myself. Listen, I stopped by for two reasons, the good and the bad.”

  “Not the ugly?”

  “Very funny. I’ll start with the good, although you’ll be getting a call from Madeline Martinez any time now.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  “Hmm, not a word I’d use. Here goes—the Women of the Wineries is now the Winery Owners of the West.”

  “Huh?”

  “It was a WOW thing. We had to keep the WOW. Anyway, we changed the name because we want you and Don to be part of the group. You participate in most of the events and the Grey Egret started that little winery klatch to begin with. Besides, now I’ll have someone to commiserate with after the meetings.”

  “That was the good news? We get to sit through gossipy meetings twice a month and listen to the rumor fests?”

  “Sometimes we trade recipes.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll send Don. But thanks for the heads-up. When Madeline calls, I’ll act thrilled. So, what’s the bad news?”

  I proceeded to tell him about the predicament Rosalee Marbleton was in and watched as his expression got grimmer and grimmer.

  “Geez, Norrie, that’s awful.”

  “I know. I know. I was hoping you or Don might have some ideas about possible solutions for her.”

  “Not unless the new landowner’s willing to sell her the property where the waterline goes. They can do that. Portion off a certain amount of acreage or, in this case, lakefront property and sell it while retaining the rest. The county figures out the tax adjustments and all that.”

  “I don’t think the guy’s willing to sell.”

  “Who is the new guy? I thought the Baxters still owned that land.”

  “Nope. They sold it and moved to Texas. I need to get the lowdown on the new owner.”

  “Unless you feel like purchasing a tax map from the county, ask Rosalee. Once you get the guy’s name, we can do an unofficial background check on him. See what we can find out.”

  “Theo Buchman, are you telling me you’re willing to snoop around with me?”

  “Shh, as long as Don doesn’t know. He’s always afraid it’ll get us into hot water.”

  “He may be right. Tell him hi. I’d better be going.”

  “Catch you later. And thanks for the updates. Especially the WOW.”

  I drove the rest of the way up the hill, aka our driveway, and raced into the house to see if there were any messages for me from the script analyst. I’d already checked my e-mails, but sometimes I got calls from the producer on the landline.

  Nothing. The only greeting I got was from Charlie, the family Plott Hound, who got up from his dog bed and nudged his dog dish. I poured some kibble, booted up my laptop, and looked over my other projects. I had a deadline in November for a Valentine screenplay and was still roughing out the plot.

  At a little past four, I walked down to the tasting room’s bistro and grabbed a late lunch so I wouldn’t have to monkey around with dinner. Lizzie was at her usual spot at the cash register and gave me a quick wave when I walked in. Cammy, our tasting room manager, and our employees, full-time and seasonal, were doing tastings. Like the Grey Egret, we were swamped, and it wasn’t even Labor Day yet.

  I was about to do a turnaround and head home when I realized something. I really had no idea if everything was going smoothly for the Federweisser. I seriously needed to pay more attention to Cammy and Franz.

  “Psst! Cammy! Send your next customers to Glenda. I need to talk to you.”

  Cammy gave me a nod and mouthed, “Everything okay?”

  I nodded and moseyed over to the T-shirt bins, where two girls were trying to decide whether to purchase the bright orange shirts or the screaming green ones. The logo and text were the same on all of them—Two Witches Winery, The Spell’s on Us!

  “We added a new color,” I said. “Fuchsia. Those shirts are in the bins off to the right.”

  “Oh my God!” the tall brunette shrieked. “That’s my favorite color.”

  She grabbed her friend by the arm, and I walked over to Cammy, who still had a concerned look on her face.

  “Relax. I just need to know if we’re all set for the Federweisser. It was the hot topic at the WOW meeting, along with some other stuff.”

  “We’re all set to go on our end. We’re serving pastry wrapped sausage bites, sausage cheese balls, and Kalamata olive bread. If those foods don’t get people to drink and buy wine, nothing will.”

  “Sounds yummy. What about entertainment? The women went on and on about entertainment.”

  “We booked the Polka Meisters from Buffalo. Got a terrific price since they have to be in the area the next day for a wedding.”

  “Oh thank God! What about the publicity? Do we have any publicity?”

  “Lots of it on our Facebook page, and we took out ads in all the local papers. Plus, the winery association always promotes it no matter which winery hosts it. And before you say another word, Catherine Trobert’s husband dropped off the new banner earlier today. So, you see, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Unless something goes wrong with the wine. Have you seen Franz today?”

  “Uh-huh. He was in earlier to get a bite to eat and seemed perfectly fine. Trust me, Norrie, if Franz had a problem, you’d be the first to know.”

  “You’re probably right, but it wouldn’t hurt for me to double check. I’ll give him a call at the winery lab when I get to the house. I don’t want to walk in there and disturb him.” Or break something. Or contaminate something. Or give him a reason to look for employment elsewhere. We already lost our assistant vineyard manager. No need to lose the guy who knows what to do with the grapes.

  “Is that all that’s bothering you? I feel as if you’re holding back something. Spit it out. It can’t be any worse than the murder we had right before the Fourth of July.”

  “It’s bad, but
not for us. For Rosalee at Terrace Wineries.”

  “Rosalee Marbleton? She’s such a sweet lady. What’s going on?”

  For the second time that day, I spouted off about Rosalee’s predicament. And while it wasn’t exactly rumor mongering, it bordered on that very nasty line of gossiping, even though my intentions were good.

  “Holy cow! That’s highway robbery! Who’s the jerk who owns the land?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Uh-oh. I see that look in your eye. Please don’t tell me you’re hatching a scheme to make that guy rethink his price tag.”

  “Whoa. I hadn’t thought of that. But now that you mention it—”

  “Don’t! Remember what happened the last time you had one of those ideas? The tables got turned on you and you were nearly arrested.”

  “Aargh. I’m still trying to forget. Look, all I want to do now is find out more about this creep. Anyone who could do a thing like that must be a real loser.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I better let you get back to the tastings before Glenda goes nuts.”

  I meandered home and spent the rest of the day on my laptop, pausing for a ten-minute break, at which time I placed a call to Rosalee.

  “Hi Rosalee. It’s Norrie. I called because I was worried about you. We all are. I am hoping everything went well with your attorney.”

  Rosalee sighed and her voice was choppy. “We may have some legal rights since the waterline was installed decades ago and we had a lease agreement with the Baxters. I say ‘We’ because my sister, Marilyn Ansley, owns the land and my family owns the business and property. Our attorney is checking to see if that lease carried over, but frankly, I’m not too optimistic.”

  “Who’s the new owner? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “A miserable scourge by the name of Roy Wilkes. Real scruffy looking, too. I’m guessing he’s in his late fifties, but it’s hard to tell with that long beard of his. Reminds me of a mountain man.”

  “Yikes. By the way, why didn’t you buy the property when the Baxters were selling it?”

  “It’s lakefront property. Outrageous taxes. The county and the school district rake it in. Now, in retrospect, I’m sorry we didn’t. Never thought I’d find myself in this predicament.”

  “I’m really sorry, Rosalee. Please keep me posted. If I can think of anything to help you out, I’ll let you know.”

  “I appreciate it, Norrie. It was nice seeing you today.”

  I felt lousy when I got off the phone. Rosalee sounded defeated. All the more reason for me to do some snooping around. At least I had a name and a description. It was a start. I made up my mind to do some background checking on Roy Wilkes the following day. As things turned out, I should’ve started the very minute I got off the phone with Rosalee.

  Chapter 3

  At first I couldn’t place the sound. A sharp ringing. I was engulfed in darkness and a heavy weight bared down on my chest. Then the odor hit me. It was Charlie and he began to lick my face as the ringing continued.

  “Geez, dog, it’s the phone. Get down! Get down from the bed!”

  I reached across the nightstand and grabbed the receiver. My eyes were gradually getting adjusted to the semidarkness, and I imagined that if I opened the curtains all the way, I’d see that the sun was about to come up. I seriously doubted it was a problem at our winery because the vineyard staff had made it a point to pound on my front door whenever something went wrong, no matter what obscene time it was.

  “Hello?” I was hoping it was a wrong number.

  “Norrie! It’s Rosalee. Oh goodness! Oh my gosh! I’m standing over a dead body! Victoria found it. She took off this morning during our walk. I figured she was chasing after a rabbit. When I caught up to her, she was sniffing at the body. My poor dog. She must be traumatized.”

  Her voice stopped abruptly. Next thing I knew, she yelled at her dogs. All four Corgis, each named after British royalty. “No, Albert! You stop that! Philip! Elizabeth! Stay! Sit! Sit Stay!”

  Then she was back on the phone with me. “You’ve got to help me. I’m literally a hair’s breath away from a corpse. You’re the expert, Norrie. What do I do? And speak fast. I only have one bar left on my phone.”

  “Me? I’m no authority.”

  “You’re the only person I know who’s had experience with these kinds of things. The only dead people I’ve come across in my seventy plus years were the ones who were gussied up in their coffins at the funeral parlor.”

  “Um, other than my vineyard workers finding Elsbeth Waters’ body where our Riesling vines were growing, I’ve had no experience with this stuff. Zilch. Absolutely nada. Never mind. Where are you?”

  “Near the pumping station, where our pipeline is. I’m standing on Roy Wilkes’ land and if I’m not mistaken…”

  And so much for the one bar Rosalee had left on her phone. I did the only thing I knew how. I hung up and called the Yates County Sheriff’s emergency number. I gave them what little information I had, threw on some clothes, made sure I took a jacket because the mornings were chilly and raced downstairs. Moving at breakneck speed, I poured kibble into Charlie’s bowl, refilled his water dish and charged toward my car.

  When I got to the bottom of our driveway, I pulled up at Theo and Don’s house and pounded on their door. No sense me being the only one to deal with Rosalee, her neurotic dogs, and a dead body.

  “My God!” Don opened the door and ushered me inside. “What happened? You’re usually not up until the break of noon.”

  “Rosalee Marbleton just called me. She found a dead body on the lakefront, next to her waterline.”

  “What? Who? Does she know? And why did she call you?”

  “I think dead body discovery is now on my resume. Seriously, I have no idea. But it didn’t sound as if she’d called the sheriff, so I did. I’m on my way over there now. I thought maybe you or Theo could go with me.”

  “I just heard that!” Theo yelled from another room. “Give me two seconds to throw on some jeans and I’ll go with you. Unless, of course, Don wants to—”

  “He doesn’t!” Don shouted back. “I’ll man the winery. You can go with Norrie.”

  Less than five minutes later, Theo jumped into my car and I drove across the road to Terrace Wineries.

  “Which way is the pumping station?” Theo asked once I parked my car.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. It can’t be that far a walk if Rosalee does it every morning. How about you go left and I go right. First one to find her yells.”

  “How about the first one calls the other one on their cell. We’ll never hear each other from a distance.”

  “Works for me. You and Don are on speed dial, you realize.”

  Theo laughed and I took off running. Well, maybe not running, but certainly walking briskly. The sun was now above the horizon, and I checked the time on my phone–6:37. I thought I saw some movement in the distance and figured it might be Rosalee’s dogs, but as I approached, it turned out to be a couple of joggers. Both women.

  “Have you seen an elderly woman with four fat little dogs?”

  The taller one with frosted hair chuckled. “Sorry. We haven’t. In fact, you’re the first person we’ve seen on our jog, and we’ve be running for at least a half mile.”

  Just then my phone buzzed and it was Theo. “I’m with Rosalee. Turn around and head back. You can’t miss us.”

  “Never mind,” I said to the joggers. “My friend found her.”

  “Glad to hear that,” the frosted-haired lady said, “because we’ve got to spin around and get back to our husbands. They’ve rented a motorboat for the day and are chomping at the bit to get on the lake. We figured this would be the only exercise we’d get, other than watching the men fish.”

  I nodded. “Hope
you have a good time and don’t forget to visit the wineries while you’re here.”

  My God. I’m as bad as the women from WOW. Next thing you know I’ll be doing an infomercial.

  Years of walking all over Manhattan must’ve paid off because I was barely winded when I reached Theo and Rosalee. The Corgis were running all over the place, and Rosalee kept muttering, “Make it a heart attack. Make it a heart attack.”

  I pulled Theo aside and whispered, “What’s going on with her?”

  “The dead body…it’s Roy Wilkes. She told me the second I got here.”

  “So, when she said she was standing over a dead body—”

  “She meant it figuratively, not literally. She was about to tell you who it was when her cell phone went out.”

  “That explains it. No wonder she’s going crazy. If the guy didn’t drop dead from natural causes, those deputies will be pointing a finger at Rosalee. Geez, I sincerely hope Roy over there suffered a massive coronary.”

  Suddenly we heard sirens getting closer. Theo and I walked back to where Rosalee was standing. The dogs, thankfully, ignored the body and instead took turns rolling over what appeared to be a dead fish on the shore.

  “Um, maybe we should get the dogs into your house, Rosalee,” I said.

  Theo immediately chimed in. “Good idea. What do you say we round them up, walk back to your house, and then come back to this spot? Norrie can hold down the fort.”

  “The dogs. Yes. The dogs. Did I call the sheriff? I don’t remember doing that. Last thing I remember was talking to Norrie.”

  “Your phone must’ve gone dead,” I said. “I called the sheriff’s office.”

  Theo put an arm around Rosalee’s shoulders and the two of them walked back to her house. Oddly enough, the Corgis didn’t need to be called. They took one look at their owner leaving the area and were immediately on her heels. I figured if they were anything like Charlie, they were waiting to be fed.

  Rosalee’s house was close to the road, a good ways from the winery building and the lakeshore. It was just a matter of time before the cavalry came. If we were lucky, her vineyard workers might assume there was a drowning or maybe a missing tourist. Certainly not a dead body belonging to the guy whose land Rosalee rented in order to have a water supply. I knew the sheriff’s car would come in guns-a-blazing, with their flashers on. And they’d have to use Rosalee’s driveway and access road to reach the lakeshore. At least her winery building and her tasting room were a few hours away from opening.