5 Blue Period (11 page)

As relieved as Juliet was that they had harvested the crop
without injury and ahead of the storm, she had not been able to shake the feeling that disaster was still loitering in the area. Maybe Moira was feeling something like this too, though probably not for the same reasons. Juliet wasn’t happy about Carissa and the attorney, or the green car that had followed them.

As if summ
oned by thought, disaster appeared. Her heart sunk when there was a knock at the door and a very wet police officer stepped inside. He wasn’t in uniform but Juliet recognized him. She touched Raphael’s arm and then nudged Esteban’s leg.

The officer
spoke softly to Seamus first and then, at his host’s nod, he came into the parlor where everyone was sitting, either on the worn furniture or on the floor. Everyone had stopped eating by then and was looking uneasy. It wasn’t the time or place for social calls and the man was recognized from his visit to Blue Period the day that Carl Owens died.

“This is Detective Robbins.
He needs to speak with us. And so.…” Seamus trailed off, unable to think what to say next. In the silence they could hear the patter of the drops of water as they fell from Robbins’ coat onto the wood floor. Juliet had the urge to hand him her towel to mop up but squashed it. This wasn’t the moment to worry about the floors.

“I’m sorry, folks, but I have some bad news.” Robbins did look sorry.
His nasal voice and red nose and swollen eyes suggested that he had a cold.

Juliet glanced at Raphael and then Esteban. They were watching Edward Owens and she decided that she had better do the same
though she dreaded what she might discover.

“Carissa Owens
was shot sometime this afternoon. She died immediately,” the officer said baldly. “I’m going to need to get some information from all of you. Since you were all here together picking the grapes, this is really just a formality, but it has to be done.”

But it wasn’t
just a formality. At least it hadn’t better be
, Juliet thought to herself.

“Of course, of course,” Seamus said.

“If I might borrow a room for taking statements,” Robbins said to Seamus. “It won’t take long and you all can get on with your supper in the meanwhile.”

“Will the dining room do?” he asked, his manners faultless though he was now as pale as his sister and looking more than his sixty-odd years of age.
The police could never complain of their host’s fatigued hospitality. “And we can bring you something warm to drink. Or perhaps some soup.…”

“Nothing, thank you.” Robbins sneezed
into the crook of his wet coat, nearly breaking his neck with the recoil. “Well, perhaps some coffee. It’s a miserable night out.”

“
You are not wrong,” Seamus agreed. “And let me fetch you a towel.…” Before he leaked all over the very nice dining room chairs which were covered in hand-embroidered silk upholstery.

“Well hell,” Juliet muttered to Esteban
, who was closest. Her eyes remained on Owens and Schneider though.

Schneider was as impossible to read as ever, but Edward looked utterly shocked. He did manage to lower his almost empty bowl to the floor when Moira came to kneel beside him
, but his hands were shaking and his eyes were blank. Juliet couldn’t hear what she said, but the hand that reached for him was tentative. Both of them were as pale as the finest marble.

Had Moira always tried to be the emotional hinge that held the mis
matched Edward and his family together? Or was she simply trying to keep Edward connected to the world so he didn’t fall back into drug use? Whatever her role, she looked positively ill.

“It’s not good,” Schneider said to Edward
, his words clear even over the speculative murmurings of the other guests. “But at least we all have alibis. They can’t suspect us this time.”

“Aye,” Moira agreed. “So we’ve no reason to worry
, Edward. All will be well now. You’ll see.”

But they didn’t
have alibis, not airtight ones. Juliet had often been out of sight of everyone else and she was willing to bet that the others probably couldn’t swear to who had been where at what time. Assuming Carissa died at Blue Period, any of them could have made it over and back without any great amount of time passing, and everyone was wet and muddy from being outside. There was nothing in their physical state to set anyone apart. Reconstructing events was going to be a nightmare and she wondered if the police would bother. They might not if they suspected someone else. Like Talbert.

Had he been in the
green car that morning? He might look good on paper, but she still had doubts about Talbert being involved in this killing. It just didn’t fit his style. But then, nothing he had done at Trefoil was his style.

Still, if it wasn’t Talbert, a
nd since PETA hadn’t yet taken to murdering people for wearing fur, that left the most likely candidates for killer right there at Trefoil. Raphael and Moira had especially been isolated since they had been in the house much of the time. And from Raphael’s expression as he looked at Moira, Juliet gathered that he couldn’t completely alibi her, nor she him.

“Next time, let’s go to Disneyland,” she said to Raphael. “I bet no one ever gets murdered at Disneyland.”

“I’m sorry, Edward,” Seamus said, appearing in the door. “Detective Robbins would like to talk to you first. They need to know if she had other family and … well, other things.”

Edward got to his feet using the wall for support
. He looked as sallow as the old wallpaper.

“Yes. I’m coming.”

It was hard to read Schneider, but Juliet thought he looked worried as he stared after Edward.

“I—I must see to my pots and pans,” Moira said and left the room.
She seemed unsteady.

“I’m going to help with the dishes,” Juliet said, weary but unwilling to sit and watch the fire die while an old lady tried to cope
alone with the cleanup. Her hands were sore from the malicious pruning snips, but they would still be able to cope with dishes and maybe the warm water would feel good.

The kitchen was old fashioned not by design but because it was actually old. She liked many thing
s about it, especially the open pantry whose shelves bulged with preserves and jam and whose ceiling was hung with bunches of herbs from the garden.

“Let me help,” Juliet said and picked up a dishtowel
which had been embroidered with a kitten. A quick look around the kitchen assured her that there was no dishwasher. They would be at cleanup for hours. Or someone would. Tired as she was, she would be lucky to make it the next ten minutes.

“It’s quite alright,” Moira protested, but her words lacked conviction
and only seconds later she handed Juliet a bowl. Juliet thought she was straining to hear what was being said in the dining room. Juliet would also have liked to eavesdropped, but she and Moira were of a generation that valued the observation of social niceties.

“The one who cooks shouldn’t be saddled with cleanup too,” Juliet insisted
, setting her dried bowl on the table with the others. They would probably be returned to the china hutch in the dining room after Robbins left.

“You
r Raphael was a huge help today. Did you get to have one of his sandwiches? Who would have thought of adding shaved truffles?” Moira was making an effort to sound cheerful.

Her Raphael? Well, she was more of his girl Friday, but it was perceptive of Moira to figure out
that there was a bond. Or maybe there was gossip about her and Raphael.

“I did have one
—ham. Esteban brought it and it was delicious. Was the meat local?”

“
Yes, we have a neighbor who raises pigs.” She glanced at Juliet and then went back to studying her sink full of collapsing suds. “Esteban is a hard worker, a fine man to come and help us like that. And Edward and Schneider…. I don’t know what Seamus and I would have done without everyone coming to help. There wasn’t enough time to hire crew and they were likely all engaged at the larger wineries that still had grapes to harvest.”

Juliet waved the thanks away.

“The hot soup sure hit the spot tonight. And it’s a blessing that one can put it on and then leave it to do other things.”

Moira glanced at her
and Juliet kept her face bland as she wiped the antique plate whose glaze had cracked. It was an old and worn piece of Limoges, still beautiful in spite of the wear and tear that testified to a long and busy history.

“It was a day for putting my hand to everything,” she finally agreed.
“And Raphael was here to look after things when I had to be away, and blessing upon him for doing it.”

Juliet nodded.

“Well, together we pulled it off. The grapes are in. There will be a fine wine that comes from this effort.”

“It was a good day
’s work and no mistaking,” she said fiercely. “Aye, a good day’s work that none of us should regret.”

Eventually it was Juliet’s turn to see the police. She declined to offer her sore hand to the sneezing man and seated herself on the damp chair opposite Robbins where everyone else had sat and dripped.

“Miss Henry?”

“Yes.”

“I doubt that you have anything to add, since you barely knew the deceased
, so I won’t keep you much longer. You must be wanting to get out of those wet clothes.” Robbins sounded weary.

He had that right. Her clothes and shoes had begun to chafe.
Juliet debated about keeping silent and then decided that she had to speak even if it meant delay.

“
You’re right. I haven’t much personal information about Carissa Owens. But I did see Carissa in town this morning while I was at the bakery.”

“Yes?” There was a flash of interest in Robbins
’ red-rimmed eyes. “What time was this?”

“It was just after ten. She came out of the office of an attorney.” Juliet pretended to search her memory. “Flatley. I think that was the name.
The building was made of brick and there was a fountain.”

“And you do
n’t know why she was there?” Robbins asked without much hope.

“No.” She could make an educated guess though. “I just assumed it had something to do with her husband’s passing. Anyhow, I followed her back to Blue Period. We were caught in the roadwork
on Route twenty-nine and had to crawl along at a snail’s pace until we passed the construction zone. She turned in to the drive for the winery while I went on to Trefoil. Raphael said we were meeting here to help with the harvest because of the unexpected rain. By then it was almost eleven.”

Robbins kept nodding and scribbling.

“One other thing, for part of the trip we were followed by a green compact, a rental, I think. I know it may not mean anything since it could belong to one of the employees having a lunch break or just a tourist who pulled off somewhere to take pictures of grapes or something. But since there is nothing out this way but Blue Period and Trefoil and I didn’t see the car at Trefoil….”

“Thank you. This may help establish the—” Robbins stopped. A moment later he sneezed
into his elbow, but Juliet didn’t think that was what had made him hold his tongue. She hated sic’ing them on Talbert, if it had been Talbert in the green car. But what if it wasn’t the NSA agent? Or what if it was and he was responsible for Carissa’s death? It wasn’t like it was beyond his emotional skill set to kill someone if he thought they were working against national interests.

“Did you see her speak to anyone else in town
?”

“
In town? No. Just the attorney—or the man I assume was the attorney. He had silver hair, thin, about six feet tall.” She decided not to mention the argument with Edward and Schneider that she and Raphael had witnessed that morning.

“Anyone else you recognized on the road?”

“No, and I didn’t see any cars coming from the winery when I passed so there is no help with witnesses there. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. This gives us something we can check on. You’ve been a big help, Miss Henry.
Thank you for the time.”

“Not at all.
I hope you catch this killer soon.”

Juliet felt a small pang of guilt
about not mentioning the argument, but she suppressed it. This wasn’t her job. Besides other people probably heard the argument and would tell the police about it.

Or maybe they wouldn’t. It might depend on how much loyalty the employees had to the new owner.

“All done?” Raphael asked as she came out of the dining room. Though she had her own car, Raphael and Esteban had waited for her.

“Done and done in. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life. Let’s find Seamus and Moira and say our goodnights.”

“It is already done. Moira has gone to bed. But we are invited back tomorrow night for a proper dinner where we will be seated on chairs at an actual table.”

Raphael tried to smile but he was also tired. Juliet could barely lift her arms as Esteban helped her into her still damp coat.