Merlot and Murder_A Paranormal Cozy Mystery Page 5

  Groaning, I rolled my window down without getting much relief from the humid night air. "Why do I feel like I'm going to regret saying yes?"

  Nightfall at the Singing Bird Winery had a completely different feel to it.

  Without the sun shining over the rows of vines, the vineyards just looked dark and haunting, sort of like how I imagined creepy cornfields to look.

  "Where do you think I should park?" Karen asked, driving past the winery. "Obviously we can't just pull up the drive in the car. I highly doubt they get very many visitors after the store closes down for the night."

  She had a good point. "What about that diner across the street?"

  Busting a completely unnecessary u-turn at the next light, Karen sent me jerking against my seatbelt. She threw me a quick look of apology before he pulled into the ‘50s-style diner across the street from the winery. "Sorry about that."

  Parking in the very back of the lot, she hit the lights and sat back in her seat. "Okay. So maybe we should start at the main house, then work our way back up to the winery itself. What do you think?"

  "Yeah, I think that should work. I just don't want to be creeping around too much outside of the Stowe’s house. I don't know; I just feel weird after everything they've gone through, don't you?”

  "Whatever it takes to help those girls out is what I think we should do," Karen replied with a shrug. "Besides, we can always just pretend we were trying to buy some wine."

  I looked across the street at the Singing Bird, frowning. The only light around came from the tall streetlamp a quarter of a mile away from where the winery was set back from the main street. Without any other lights on, it was very clear that the place was closed for the night, but there wasn't much else we could do about that.

  The breeze coming down the mountains had me pulling a spare jacket from Karen's backseat and wrapping it tightly around me. "I didn't expect this to be so creepy," I said as we faced the vineyards from the street.

  Karen wiggled her fingers out in front of her to taunt me with a grin. "Do you want to turn back now? Is it too scary for you?"

  Rolling my eyes, I pushed past her and took the lead, even though everything in my body told me to stop while I still could and turn around. But I didn't want to have my back toward the creepy vineyards, so I pressed on.

  "Okay, I get your point about this place being creepy,” Karen whispered once we were halfway down the dirt drive. "All they need now is some weird magical scarecrow that comes alive at night to eat your soul. Then they could just market this place as some weird haunted attraction."

  "Karen, do I have to remind you that a guy just died on this property? Keep talking like that and you might end up provoking his ghost." I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about the idea of ghosts, or come to think of it, whether or not they actually existed. After all, if witches were real, maybe ghosts were too. Either way, I didn't want to make anyone or anything upset with me.

  "Oh please," she chuckled under her breath. "Don't be such a scaredy-cat."

  But when the wind rustled the dirt at our feet, Karen started taking noticeably longer strides to keep up with me.

  By the time we made it to the main red barn, even Karen seemed more somber, and quieter than usual. I pulled out my phone to give us a little more light, shining it over the front entrance doors. "Okay, you got us here. Now what?"

  Karen pointed down the dirt road. "We keep going. Let's go check out the main house first. I can already see some light coming from the windows. Maybe we'll get lucky and hear Alicia confessing to the murder."

  Well, as a witch, I could personally say that stranger things have happened. "Okay."

  We were careful to edge ourselves along the wall of the main barn, in case they had some sort of motion-sensing floodlights. But there was a huge football field-sized gap between the two buildings, leaving us out in the wide open.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Karen. "It would probably help if no one could see us," I suggested.

  "Got it covered," she said with a wink in the dim light coming from my phone. "Give me your hands. Do you remember the words?"

  I winced. "It probably wouldn't hurt to do a trial run."

  "Partio mei magicae. Diffindo mei magicae. Tribua mei magicae. Invisibilia abscondoroa. Invisibilia abscondoroa. Invisibilia abscondoroa, Got it now?"

  I nodded, and she took my hands in hers, closing her eyes to focus all of her energy into cloaking the both of us.

  "Partio mei magicae. Diffindo mei magicae. Tribua mei magicae. Invisibilia abscondoroa. Invisibilia abscondoroa. Invisibilia abscondoroa," we began to chant over and over, the sparkling, crackling energy between her hands flowing over me like a tight second skin. It was almost as if some strange electric wire was still keeping us tethered, even if we let go.

  When I opened my eyes, Karen was completely gone. "You're still there, right?" I heard her snicker and I grinned. "I'll take that as a yes."

  Karen's warm hand sought mine out again and squeezed. "I'm here. Hold on so we don't get separated or anything, okay? The invisibility spell will only last for an hour, so we should be okay."

  The dirt road was helpful in keeping our footsteps light and quiet as we made our way across the open expanse between the winery and the beautiful two-story house.

  I knew they had to be pretty well off, but I hadn't seen a house that was simultaneously as big and as homey as this one. Warm light emanated from inside the lower half of the house, pouring out onto the wide wraparound porch. When I imagined a beautiful home, this was exactly like what I had in mind. Half of me wanted to take a good picture of the outside and post it on Instagram with the hashtag #lifegoals, but I hadn't been on any of my social media since I found out I was a witch. Also, I was definitely not here to take a good photo for the ‘gram, I reminded myself.

  "Holy cow, look at this place, Karen. It's gorgeous."

  "Yeah, yeah. It's nice. Unlike murder. Hey, look! I think I see Alicia in the window over there," she whispered, pointing to a window to the far right of the house where the curtains had been pulled back and the blinds left open.

  "We need to get a closer look," I said, ducking down until I was the same height as the short hedges on either side of the walkway that led up to the steps. "Over here. I can just barely see her."

  Karen mumbled something under her breath as she almost tripped over her own feet until she was squatting down next to me. "She doesn't look very happy, does she?"

  I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn't see me. "No. No, she doesn't."

  Alicia Stowe was sitting at a long farmhouse-style dining room table, her hands over her face. I could tell by the way her shoulders were shaking that she was crying. My heart sank.

  "Look at how upset she is," I said, frowning. "She's obviously grieving over Nick's death."

  As Alicia pulled her hands away, she revealed her wet, mascara streaked face. She was definitely not a pretty crier, not that anyone could blame the poor woman.

  Karen clucked her tongue, "Hm. I don't know. Maybe she's upset that he’s dead, or maybe it's just because she feels so guilty for killing him."

  Chapter 9

  I wasn't too sure how long we were standing around in the bushes before Alicia finally got up from the table and turned the dining room light out. Karen and I froze, praying that she wouldn't feel the need for a breath of fresh air out on the porch. Luckily for us, a dim light flickered on in an upstairs window, while two more lights upstairs went out. It looked like the family must have been getting ready for bed.

  "We should check out the winery now, since there's nothing going on here,” Karen whispered hoarsely. I knew she was right, but looking at the winery from where we were hunched over, it looked creepier than ever.

  "All right, just don't take off without me," I whispered back, reaching out for her.

  A beam of light shone in the dark space between a wooden shed where I knew they kept some of the empty barrels and we froze on the spot.

  "Uh
. What was that?" Karen asked as softly as possible.

  "Shoot! Karen, I think that's someone's flashlight."

  Sure enough, the beam of light swept from one side of the building to the next, and behind it I could just make out the blurred edges of someone wearing something around their waist. The blood drained from my face in an instant.

  This was a police officer for sure.

  As if on cue, my feet and hands became visible blurs out in front of me. The more they sharpened around the edges, the more the rest of me came into full view. My body felt like it was more solid, more physically present. It looked like our hour was up.

  "Who's there? I can hear you!" the police officer barked, his hand going to his waist. My heart jumped into my throat—if we didn’t show ourselves then this guy was likely to shoot first, ask questions later.

  It wasn’t like Karen and I were well hidden. In fact, there seemed to be very few places to actually hide, and it wasn’t going to take long before we were discovered.

  "Sorry!" I called out, only slightly relieved to see that I was fully visible again. "I didn't mean to startle you." I didn’t know whether to step out in front of him or not. I figured either way we were in trouble, at least this way we weren’t going to get shot.

  Karen’s hand was hovering in thin air, and bit by bit her arm, and then her shoulder became visible, just out of reach of the glow from the officer's flashlight. When he swept the flashlight to the other side of me, I could feel her dipping behind me in a last-ditch effort to make sure she wasn't seen looking like Casper the Friendly Ghost.

  "Is someone else there with you?" His question hung heavy between us. Was it just me or did this guy sound familiar?

  Karen's feet shuffled behind mine even more, and I coughed, trying to cover up the sound. "Um,"

  "Miss, I'm going to ask you one more time. Is there someone else with you?" There was more than enough edge to his warning.

  "Yes, sorry, sir," I quickly said, sweat beading across my forehead as the severity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. If the police officer saw Karen before she was fully visible, who knew what kind of reaction he'd have?

  It was hard to keep my eyes off the way his right hand hovered at his side. Even though I couldn’t fully see his face because of the dark, I knew this officer was a bigger guy. And bigger guy or not, he wasn’t going to take any chances on a couple of strangers in the dark.

  "Put your hands where I can see them. Both of you," he ordered as his flashlight focused on my hands. I slowly raised them.

  "And your friend. Put your hands where I can see them."

  "Sorry, officer," Karen squeaked, finally stepping out from behind me. "We weren't sure if you were a police officer or someone else."

  Karen's fully-visible form was washed out by the flashlight as he swung it over to get a good look at her. She too, slowly raised her hands out in front of her with an apologetic smile.

  "Why were you hiding?" he asked gruffly as he held his flashlight above his head to get a better view of the both of us.

  "I was scared," she said. Well, at least she was telling the truth. And she wasn't the only one—if I saw the guy's hand twitch over his holster one more time I wasn't so sure I'd have been able to keep my abilities to myself any longer.

  “That’s no excuse. You two are trespassing on private property. I’m going to need to take you in,” he said, no hint of remorse in his tone.

  “I promise you, sir, that’s really not necessary,” I said quickly as Karen gasped. “We were only trying to um, find the winery shop. We wanted to buy some.”

  “Oh, you were shopping for wine, huh? A whole two hours after the winery’s retail store was closed for the night? Or do you make a habit of shopping after seven at night?”

  Karen tensed beside me. As nervous as she was, there was plenty of room for her anger.

  “We weren’t trespassing. We just wanted to buy wine,” she repeated.

  But the officer shook his head. “Save it. There’s no need to tell me now when you can explain every last detail of your pathetic lie in the morning to the Sheriff.”

  The Sheriff? I blinked, trying to get a better look at the officer who was now approaching us, radioing in a couple of trespassers found on the Singing Bird Winery’s property.

  Oh, no. I mean, come on!

  Deputy Ratface must have recognized us from before, because there was no denying the smug look on his face when he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs from his belt.

  "Aren’t we supposed to get a phone call?" Karen asked as the guy opened the jail cell, gesturing for us to take a seat on the bench inside.

  "And maybe also get these handcuffs off? Please?" I added, trying my best not to pout like a five-year-old. Something told me that Officer Ratface wouldn't have fallen for that act.

  He scratched at his scruffy beard, looking over the two of us. With a single eye roll, he sighed. "Turn around, ladies." We did as we were told, rewarded by having the handcuffs taken off of us, thankfully. I rubbed at my sore wrists as the blood flowed back into them.

  "And the phone call?" Karen reminded him with a hopeful smile. I wanted to smack her — we were lucky he was even being this nice.

  "One phone call. That's it. And only one of you can make it," he said gruffly, narrowing his eyes to challenge us to say something.

  I bit my lip and looked at Karen. "Your mom?"

  Karen shook her head. "I've got a better idea."

  I leaned in frantically, very aware of the fact that Deputy Ratface was listening in closely.

  "A better idea then calling Barbara? Have you officially gone insane?"

  "No," Karen said slowly. “But I think we should have a chat with our lawyer, don't you?"

  Our lawyer? My cheeks burned on their own accord as I realized who she was talking about. "You're gonna call Ken?"

  She shook her head again. "No, you're going to call Ken. I know you already have his phone number memorized. Don't pretend you don't."

  Only Karen, in a situation this desperate, would still be able to find a way to make fun of me. In front of a police officer, no less. I gritted my teeth.

  “Now is so not the time to be having this conversation.”

  “Well, somebody better have the stupid conversation, because I'm too tired to be standing on my feet waiting for you to stop bickering. Let me know when you've made a decision,” Officer Ratface said, not bothering to wait for us to get out of the way before he started closing the cell door on us.

  I let out a little shriek as Karen and I quickly moved out of the way, the metal bars slamming shut, rattling every bone in my body.

  I quickly turned on Karen. "Seriously?"

  But she just waved me off. “Don't pretend to be all mad at me, because we both know that you're not. Not really, anyway. Look, it's probably smarter to call him anyway, because who knows what Mom is going to say if she finds out that we got locked in jail.”

  I wanted to mention the fact that Barbara herself had landed herself in jail before – after being wrongly accused of murder - but kept it to myself.

  "This is just so ridiculous," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest. Karen took it as reluctant agreement on my part, calling for the disgruntled officer to come let me out.

  As he led me over to the honest-to-God old rotary phone on the desk, I tried to recall Ken Leeman's phone number in my head, worried that if I didn't get it right on the first dial, I wouldn't get a second chance. The phone slipped my hand and I wiped my sweaty palm on my pants, hoping no one saw it.

  "You have five minutes," Office Ratface said. "I'd make them count."

  I frowned as I looked down at the phone. I hadn’t used one of these since I was what, seven years old?

  I stuck my fingertip into the hole for the number five and twisted it all the way around until it could go no further, letting go and letting it slowly turn all the way back around to the start. Ugh. This was going to take forever.

  When the line starte
d to ring, a thin sheen of sweat broke across my forehead. What if he didn't answer? What if we were totally screwed and had no other way of getting home and I just wasted a phone call?

  Would we have to wait until tomorrow to try again? Would we even get that chance?

  Luckily, the line picked up and Ken cleared his throat before answering.

  "Hello?" he said, sounding confused. He probably wasn’t going to be super impressed that I was calling from the county jail, but that hardly mattered now.

  "Um, hi Ken. It's Taylor."

  "Taylor? Oh, hi! I thought this was a work call. My phone says you're calling from the Napa County Jail, for some reason," he said with a little laugh at the end. "How's it going?"

  I sighed. "Not so good."

  "Is everything okay? What's going on?"

  "Well, no. I am calling from the Napa County Jail. I don't suppose you could maybe come bail Karen and me out, could you?"

  Chapter 10

  I'd never been so relieved to be so embarrassed in my whole life. Seeing Ken's handsome face coming around the corner of the jail cell left me blushing, but I got up, shoving Karen, who had fallen asleep against me, drooling on my shoulder.

  "Huh? What is it?" she mumbled, sleepily opening her eyes. "Oh good, our chauffeur is here."

  "Hush," I hissed at her, not wanting Ken to think we were ungrateful.

  Officer Ratface unlocked the jail cell and held the door open for us, slamming it shut as Ken walked with us to the front desk to collect our belongings.

  "So. Trespassing, huh?" he mused, slipping something to the female officer behind the desk with a nod. "That's a new one."

  I really didn't want to explain what we were doing out there, but I didn't exactly have a choice. Ken wasn't going to let it go, and I didn't expect him to anyway. The least I could do was tell him what was going on, and hope he wasn't going to try and chide us for it. After all, he had just bailed us out of jail.

  "I wouldn't call it trespassing per se," Karen started, tilting her head back and forth. She waited until we were in front of the police station before finishing the thought. "I mean yes, we were on the Stowe’s property without being invited, and it looked pretty sketchy since it was night time, and the store was closed and it was completely dark out. Okay, yeah, maybe I would call it trespassing."