A Tangle in the Vines Page 11

  “Are you angry or scared?” Billie asked.

  “Both. How about you?” I asked.

  “Both, but I’m mostly worried about Dustin. I wish I knew where he lived, so I could talk him into staying in the Calla Lily Detention Center with us. He needs to tell us who the Sitter is, except that Dustin says he’s not sure.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, stopping for an instant as we reached the edge of the trees surrounding the theater.

  “When he and his sister were little, they called him one name, and then when he took Dustin out of the place with no woods, he told him a different name, and when he got back here, he had another one. That’s why he just calls him the Sitter.” I heard voices behind us, and I really wasn’t ready to be cordial to Rikki and Dahlia quite yet.

  “Let’s go, Billie. I understand how you feel, but you’re not going to go look for him. Dustin knows how to deal with the Sitter much better than we do.” Billie nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Promise?” I asked, and pointed to the ring on my finger.

  “Yes,” he replied and crossed his heart.

  “I’ll race you to the deck,” I said taking off, so he had to hustle catch up with me. My lead vanished in no time, but Marlowe beat us both.

  12 Countdown to Murder

  When I reached for the doorknob, it turned at once. I wished that I’d locked it before fleeing. I opened the door cautiously. “Maybe we should wait for the rest to catch up with us,” I muttered.

  “Why? If there’s anyone inside who shouldn’t be in there, Marlowe will tell us, won’t he?”

  “Yes. You’re so smart, aren’t you?” I asked as I opened the door a little more and Marlowe dashed into the kitchen.

  “Mostly, I’m just in a hurry to get to the restroom. Excuse me,” Billie said and ran for it.

  My brain was still overflowing with a jumble of questions. Was the Sitter the one who’d conjured up the story about needing to sit beside the graves to keep the bodies from rising from the grave? Had he set the fire that destroyed to Dustin’s home and killed his parents? How had Dustin’s sister died, and why was she buried in the woods? How was any of what’s happened my fault?

  I peeked into the dining room. Dahlia and Rikki had left things behind. I got a box to load their items. At Dahlia’s seat, a folder was open, and I glimpsed a printed copy of an email from Ben. I scanned it quickly, trying to commit the information to memory while puzzling about it. Then, I sucked in a big breath when I read the last item.

  When my phone rang, I darted into the kitchen, leaving the box on the dining room table. I grabbed my cellphone from the kitchen counter as the room exploded into a riot of noise and activity. As my friends burst into the room, all talking at once, Darjeeling took off after Marlowe, yipping happily. She ran in circles around Billie’s feet until he picked her up.

  “Hello,” I said amid the raucous outburst.

  “Lily, is everything all right? I got cc’d on a text from Rikki that we now have an updated description and a first name for an intruder at the Calla Lily Vineyards after he broke into the theater building. He’s wanted for questioning about a series of murders that occurred in the area over several decades. Is Billie, okay?”

  “It’s good to hear no one’s issued a ‘shoot to kill order,’” I groused. “Austin, we’re all fine,” I said loud enough for Judy to hear me.

  I left the kitchen, hoping to find a quieter spot and the doorbell rang. That had to be Rikki and Dahlia coming to pick up their files since they weren’t in the kitchen with everyone else.

  “I’ll get it!” I shouted and ran to the door. Much to my surprise, it was an old family friend. “One more minute, Austin, please.”

  “Dr. Kennedy, how are you?” I said, hugging the man who’d been my physician for a decade before I moved to LA.

  “I’m as good as a man can be who’s pushing eighty. Judy said you need me to examine a boy who’s staying with you and injured himself on your fence. Are you doing okay?”

  “If you’re asking about losing Aunt Lettie, I miss her every day. Judy keeps telling me she’s still with us—in every inch of this house.”

  “Judy’s a wise woman.” As Dr. Kennedy uttered her name, she magically appeared.

  “Doctor K, you’re a lifesaver,” Judy said as she bustled down the hall.

  “If it’s that serious, you ought to call an ambulance,” he said giving me a little wink. “I’m here to give the rascal a tetanus shot, and maybe a lecture about not climbing other people’s fences.”

  “That’s exactly what he needs,” Judy replied. “Let’s go meet him.” As they were about to leave, the doorbell rang again. That was my cue to run for it. I dashed through the parlor and into a room set up with comfy chairs and a large flat screen television hanging on the wall. It was a stretch to call it a media room.

  “Sorry. That’s our old family doctor—making a house call, if you can believe it. Judy must have come up with the idea since Rikki and Dahlia have placed us under house arrest.”

  “Uh, oh. How did you manage that?” he asked in a light-hearted way.

  “Didn’t Rikki call and bring you up to speed? They got that new info because we had a daytime encounter with Dustin, the Numbers Man. Granted, the additional information he gave us about his background isn’t much. It might give you a few more questions to ask if there’s a lull in the conversation with your ‘pen pal.’”

  “I’ve got a meeting with him at the penitentiary first thing in the morning. I’ll tell him you called him that and see what he has to say.”

  “Make sure you give him my address. That way, when he gets out, he can come looking for me. He’ll have to get in line behind the Sitter.”

  “The what?”

  “I can explain, although Rikki will give you a different point of view on the entire incident.” I did my best to be straight with Austin. As I retold the story, it seemed more stupid than it had at the time. I was almost ready to apologize for my behavior when Austin reacted.

  “I can’t leave you alone for a day, can I?” His voice was filled with worry.

  “Under the circumstances, I’m not sure what else I could have done. I ran in almost a blind panic when Judy called.”

  “I might have gone along with your idea, but I would have asked Jesse to post his guys around the building to grab Dustin if he fled.” Austin sighed.

  “Jesse might have done that if I’d asked. I honestly didn’t think of it as an option. You’ve had to deal with fugitives climbing out of windows to escape—this is all new to me.”

  “True. Please, don’t take any more chances. The information Dustin gave you may come in handy when I have my meeting tomorrow. I didn’t read any reference to the fact that the homeless guy he saw speaking to Penney Lincoln was badly burned. That could have been enough to get the police to discount the guy as a love interest or a threat to their missing teen if he had told them.” Then he paused. I already knew what he was going to say because I’d said something like it to myself. “No amount of information is worth risking an encounter with the Sitter, or whatever his real name may be.”

  “I understand. Did you also get cc’d on the email from Hazmat Man?”

  “How did you find about that?” Austin was on the verge of becoming exasperated.

  “Purely by accident, promise! I’m not sure why this popped into my mind, but when I was reading the email it dawned on me that Ms. Wainwright disappeared at the same time of the year as Penney Lincoln.”

  “Yes, that wasn’t in the email. Did you or a member of your diva posse get that from Ben?”

  “Good grief, it’s not that hard to figure out. Maybe it was the mention in the email that the murders took place a decade apart—except for the woman who burned to death and was buried with her child. From what Dustin told us about the fire, that must be his mother and his sister. I wonder if all the numbers Billie found in the woods have something to do with the death of his sister or his mother, and
that’s why Dustin wore the black armband.”

  “If you’re talking about an anniversary date, it’s odd that the murders didn’t occur more often. From what Dustin told you, with his roundabout, magical thinking about his sister returning from the grave, Dustin’s made a connection between her death and the most recent murder.”

  “It’s not the first time he made that connection, either. Dustin also said his sister came back from her grave and set fire to the house, killing his parents. Maybe the murders are timed to coincide with a specific way in which the numbers line up, and it doesn’t happen often, so the murders are far apart.”

  “Billie believed Dustin was counting down to an event last night—maybe it was a countdown to murder.”

  “Two murders,” I mumbled. “Will they charge the killer for the murder of Lydia Wainwright’s unborn child?”

  “I assume so. You didn’t miss a thing, did you? I’m sorry you got your hands on that email message.”

  “I would have heard about it one way or another. No way can you keep news like that from leaking to the press. Six murders! You’ve got to stop this guy.”

  “We’re working on it. Rikki has people digging into old news about fires in which there were fatalities thirty or forty years ago. And about children that died or went missing not long before that. That’s in addition to searching police records for information about women in their twenties who disappeared between 1999 and 2019 since the identity of the victim killed around 2009 hasn’t been determined. Maybe there’s a more specific date in Billie’s notebook that can help. Did anyone go to his house and get it?”

  “Not yet. After lunch, Diane’s going to retrieve it, along with Billie’s schoolbooks and clothes. At least he’ll have something to wear besides Angels’ baseball gear since I can’t take him shopping now that I’m grounded.”

  “It takes more to tick off Rikki than Dahlia, but her judgment is swift and final. Don’t put up a fight or you’ll dig your way into a deeper hole.” I harrumphed.

  “She can’t expect me to play hostess, can she? I’m not making her more coffee and cookies, and she can take a nap in the backseat of her car. The B&B is closed to uninvited guests and I’m rolling up the welcome mat until she sets us free. That’s not true for Diane, who’s still here. We’ll welcome Brandy and her family members who are going to be allowed through the gates in the morning.”

  “What about me?” Austin asked.

  “You’re the best lawman I’ve ever met, so you’re still welcome to visit. Hopefully, once we get out of this mess, the only dead bodies will be in the movies we watch. On second thought, maybe not even in the movies. I’d really like you to have a chance for you to enjoy the vineyards and experience them the way I did growing up.”

  “We’ve had evenings like that—watching the sunset from the porch. Now that Billie says you’re my girl, I’ll sit a little closer.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, and I also promise to try to get back in time for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll be your armed escort so I can spring you for a dinner out on the town.”

  “Good luck, Cowboy. I doubt even your most disarming smile can get Marshal Rikki to issue a reprieve until this case is closed.”

  “You could be right. I’d enjoy dinner more if you didn’t need an armed escort. Speaking of food, I need to figure out where to get some chow around here.”

  I should have hung up when he said that, but I wasn’t ready to let him go. I missed him. I’d found a quiet, comfortable hiding place, free from the intrusion of doorbells, snarky detectives, and crime scenes. Who knew when that would happen again? I kept him talking a few more minutes. Selfish, I know, but even Austin’s small talk makes me laugh. Then the conversation took a more serious turn.

  “I know you’re not happy about being confined to the house, but it’s a relief since I can’t be there for another day or so.”

  “I don’t like the idea that the Sitter believes something that’s going on is my fault. Come home soon, Marshal.”

  “As soon as I can. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Calla Lily.”

  When I stepped out into the parlor, the most amazing aroma reached me. I almost ran to the kitchen.

  “What is that wonderful smell?” I asked. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Doctor Kennedy wearing an apron tied at the waist, standing at the stove cooking. “Who put you to work?”

  “The doctor says I’m super healthy so my checkup went fast, although he says I should probably lay off the chicken fried steak a little. I told him that’s not a problem because I never ate it before.”

  “Can you believe that?” Vernon asked. I wasn’t sure what to say in response to the doctor since it’s hardly regarded as a healthy dish these days. “He’s never had mashed potatoes made from freshly boiled potatoes, either, or succotash.” Then he pointed at Zelda.

  “When your sassy Latina friend said she hasn’t had chicken fried steak either, I had Jim Brady make an emergency run to the butcher shop to pick up a dozen well-pounded cube steaks.”

  “He did that?” I asked. “And Dahlia let him?” You could have pushed me over with a feather.

  “Why wouldn’t he? If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t still be with us. When he first joined the force, he got a nasty bite wresting a broken bottle from a mean drunk. Instead of going to the ER as he was advised to do, he tried to care for the wound himself. By the time he came to see me, he was a very sick man, and loopy from fever.” Doctor Kennedy staggered around to emphasize his point.

  “I’m not sure Jim told Dahlia what he was doing, Lily. He delivered the steaks to the backdoor.” Judy’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I told him to come back and we’d have a plate ready for him.”

  “You can get that ready for him now,” Doctor Kennedy announced.” The gravy is perfect, even if I do say so myself.”

  The entire posse went into action in assembly-line fashion. When Jim came to the door to claim his meal, I figured he might as well come inside and eat with us. He’d be at the house soon anyway to walk Diane to her car and then escort her to Billie’s family home.

  The meal was delicious. My cowboy would have loved it. Folks scattered once lunch was over and we’d cleaned up. Diane left with Jim Brady to claim Billie’s things and inspect the living conditions at his home. After the morning we’d had, I was ready for a nap since I was housebound, but Judy had something else in mind.

  13 A Wappo Curse

  “Thanks for cooking such a wonderful lunch, Vernon. Before you leave, do you want you to try one of the Calla Lily wines we’re entering in the Taste of Napa Challenge?” Judy had already begun opening a chilled bottle of the amazing Chardonnay Aunt Lettie and the winery’s chief winemaker had created.

  “I’d be delighted. Shall we sit out on the porch? I don’t want to distress the boy, but I’d like to get the scoop on why the vineyard has become Fort Calla Lily. Jesse was carrying a rifle when I came in through the gate.”

  “We’ll do our best,” I said. “Nothing’s very clear right now. The police don’t just come right out and brief us, although we keep stumbling into the middle of the investigation. They don’t appreciate that much.”

  I’d already tried the wine, but since it was a new bottle, I went through the routine Aunt Lettie had taught me before I was legally allowed to drink. Of course, wine tasters typically spit out the wine after tasting it. Most of the time, that’s what I did at sixteen.

  I held up the glass Judy had poured for me and gazed at its glistening white color, tinged with gold. This vintage was a lighter color because it had spent less time in oak barrels. When I poked my nose into the glass, the aroma was fresh with a bit of the fruit still discernible. A peachy flavor tinged with vanilla lingered as I swallowed the wine after swishing it in my mouth.

  “What do you make of it, Vernon?” Judy asked. I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of calling my old family doctor by his first name, even though it made more sense than referring to him as Docto
r Kennedy.

  “A dry, lively wine with a light fruity flavor, it rolls off the tongue with a hint of butter. Sublime!” He grabbed the open bottle from the kitchen counter and led us down the hallway to the foyer and outside onto the porch. The light had begun to soften in the late afternoon sun, adding a golden glow to everything it touched. The ever-changing play of light and shadow throughout the day is one of my favorite features of life in wine country.

  This afternoon, the rain had left everything clean and fresh. I loved the smell of good, clean dirt from the first time I set foot in the vineyards. Until they’d spent a few days here, my diva friends hadn’t understood what I meant. It’s not just the rain that coaxes the scent from the fertile vineyard soil; when the sun bakes the earth, it gives off a wonderful almost toasty fragrance.

  As soon as we were settled into our comfy seats, Judy gave Vernon a brief overview of recent events. I remained silent until she’d finished and then shared what I’d discovered from reading the email from Ben and filled them in on Austin’s assignment.

  I wanted our visitor to hear everything we’d learned since I thought I’d guessed Judy’s reason for asking Vernon to stick around. The doctor had been delivering babies and caring for residents of the Napa Valley for more than half a century. He’d grown up here and had only been away while he was in college and medical school. Vernon’s a living encyclopedia of the area’s history.

  “Six deaths? This is alarming news. It’s going to wreak havoc in the community unless the police can nab the culprit soon.” He peered over his glasses at me, and I squirmed in my seat. “It’s too bad that young lawman wasn’t with you when you had this Dustin fellow corralled in the basement.”

  “Yes, I know. I almost had Dustin coaxed into telling us more. He’s been living with fear and confusion for a long time. Dustin wants to unburden himself, but he’s as terrified of the authorities as he is of the man he calls the Sitter.”

  “I wonder, Vernon, if any of this means more to you than it does to the rest of us. I’m guessing Dustin is at least forty years old. You were still delivering most of the babies back in the late seventies. He had a sister who disappeared or died about a year before both parents were killed in a fire. The boy was burned badly.”