Ripe for Murder Read online

  I spotted Big Dave. He’d reached the bar, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space at the stool on each side of him. Tara was nowhere to be seen.

  Jim placed his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, taking a fresh one. He took a sip and gave his wife a smile. “Not a bad way to live, is it?” He turned to me. “Kim’s been good about this whole train business. It’s really my interest, not hers.”

  “I said I’d consider it, Jim, but after the last couple of investments . . . Of course, it’s true. Nobody knows more about trains than you.”

  He whispered something in her ear, and she smiled. “Later, Jim. For now, let’s go see the gardens. I can’t believe they have so many things still in bloom. It’s nearly December!”

  The pair walked to the rear doors, Jim with his arm now wrapped around her waist. Antonia returned from the bar a few moments later.

  “What time do you think Connor and Chantal will be back?” I asked.

  “Not until late. They were having a lecture and then dinner. Care to go for a walk in the gardens? The sun is setting, but the grounds really are quite lovely.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Antonia nodded toward the bar. “I met the man that checked in before me, the one that owns car dealerships. A real gentleman. Huge, but solid. I’ve always liked that in a man.” She turned to scan the room. “Simply ridiculous name, though.”

  “Big Dave. He’s married, and he’s too young for you.”

  “I only said I thought he was nice. Very polite, with all that Southern charm.” She straightened. “Besides, I can enjoy a conversation with a man, should I decide to do so.” She pointed a finger. “I’m not the one choosing to live like a hermit.”

  “Are you scolding me?”

  “I would if I thought it might help. Now do you want to go for a walk and get some dinner or not?”

  “Fine. Let’s get some air and grab a bite.” It was going to be my one offer for the evening. Yippee.

  Three

  THE phone rang just as there was a knock on the door. The door led to coffee, so it didn’t really matter who was on the phone: I let George in.

  “Do you do everything around here?”

  He set the tray on an ottoman. “I noticed your breakfast was ready to go and I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” He gave a small nod of his head and let himself out.

  I really liked George.

  The phone rang again after I’d poured my first cup and grabbed a bagel.

  “We need to be downstairs in less than one hour.”

  “Good morning, Antonia. I’ll meet you outside the Sonoma Room at eight sharp.” I tasted the coffee. Strong French roast. Yum.

  “You haven’t talked with Chantal this morning by any chance, have you?”

  “No.” I put the cup down. “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t been able to reach her. She might be in the shower but . . .”

  I knew what she left unsaid. Chantal sometimes overindulged. She’d gone to the dinner at the winery last night, but it was unlikely she drank to excess with Connor there to reel her in. Barely tolerable sober, Chantal really upped her game when she drank.

  A thought occurred to me and my stomach sank. “Do you want me to call Connor’s room? See if she’s there?”

  There was a pause. “No need. I see her coming now, across the back lawn. See you in a bit.”

  I hung up and walked out onto the veranda. There below me was Chantal in a red workout outfit.

  She looked up, spotted me and waved. “Too bad you don’t work out. The fitness center is fantastic.”

  “I work out,” I yelled across the garden. Very mature. “I just don’t like to in the mornings.” Or afternoons. Evenings aren’t that great either.

  A chair scraped to my left. Antonia stood on her balcony, shaking her head.

  “Don’t you start,” I said. “I’ll be downstairs at eight.”

  I poured myself another large cup and managed to shower, don my standard uniform of jeans, boots and a sweater, this one in plum, in under twenty minutes. Piling my unruly curls on the top of my head and throwing on a couple swipes of mascara took less than five, and I was out the door with time to spare. Of course, it didn’t make a difference. When I got downstairs, Antonia was pacing like she’d been there for hours.

  “Chantal said she’d be right out, and Connor is over talking to the train guy.” Antonia tapped her temple with a forefinger. “What’s his name? The train guy.”

  “Bill.”

  Connor saw me, said something to Bill and walked over. “’Morning. I must say it’s fun to take an early run through a vineyard without worrying about all the things I see that need to be done.”

  “Hmm. Chantal worked out in the gym this morning.” I watched his face.

  “Too pretty to be inside.” If he’d known where she’d been this morning before the gym, he didn’t show it, and when Chantal arrived a few moments later, he greeted her without any indication they’d been together earlier.

  “What a great morning.” Chantal flipped a long ponytail fat enough to actually be a pony’s tail. “I had a terrific workout, which was a good thing since we entirely overate last night, didn’t we?” She directed her comment to Connor, who nodded in agreement.

  “They really did it up. I got a chance to ask how much the train is actually impacting the business of running a winery,” he tipped his head to one side, indicating Bill was coming to join us. “But it can wait until later.”

  “Good, good. You’re all here.” Bill rubbed his palms together. “Most of the others have already left. Let’s get you in a cab and to the train station.”

  The taxi ride was mercifully short and confirmed my suspicion that Chantal and I would never have made it in one car from Cypress Cove to Napa. She didn’t stop talking and managed to step on my foot twice.

  “Now there’s a big one,” Chantal said when we arrived at the station moments later. Big Dave was sitting on a bench in the sun. As we stepped from the cab he gave a big wave. In the morning light, I was able to study him. He looked like solid muscle, with a full head of wavy hair and a ready smile.

  Chantal gave one of those little finger waves. “I wonder if he’s here with anyone.”

  “As a matter of fact, he is, and I can’t wait for you to meet her.” I spotted Tara across the street. “There she is now.”

  Tara disappeared into a boutique.

  “Where?”

  “She just went into that store on the corner. The jewelry store.”

  “We have a few minutes if either of you ladies wants to join her.” Bill wiped his brow with the kerchief from around his neck. “The train should be here shortly.” He pulled a pocket watch from his overalls, gave it a little shake and then turned to confirm the time on the clock hanging over the platform. “Yup, should be here any moment.”

  “I’m going to take a look at the station,” Connor said. “Want to come?”

  “Sure.” I pulled him away before Chantal could join us.

  The depot walls were thick stucco, and the temperature dropped several degrees when we stepped inside. It was modeled after a Spanish mission with colorful tile-covered walls lining the main waiting room, and the floor was sanded Mexican tiles in buff tones. Redwood beams ran across the ceiling and supported massive wrought iron chandeliers.

  “So tell me about last night,” I said.

  “The wineries in the region like the train. It has increased the number of tourists and keeps people off the roads after wine tasting, which is never a bad thing.”

  “What about noise?” I asked.

  “As long as the train runs during the day and early evening, I don’t think it would be a problem.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “I would see how the rest of the weekend goes, but maybe you should co
nsider their offer.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  We stepped back out into the sunshine. Across the street was a coffee shop, a cute little A-frame with blue-and-white gingham curtains. “I’m going to get a cup. Want one?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  Moments later we stepped through the entrance.

  “Penny, over here.” Kim and Jim stood near the register. “We’re waiting for two lattes to go.”

  “Perfect morning for it.” I rubbed my arms through my sweater. “It’s chilly.”

  Kim laughed, showing that perfect smile. “Oh, you Californians. Chicago’s looking at a high of fifty today.”

  The waitress dropped off their drinks.

  “See you on the train.” Jim held the door while Kim grabbed their coffees.

  As they stepped off the curb, Jim guided Kim by the elbow and she smiled up at him.

  “They’re pretty cute together.” I grabbed a menu but a car horn and squealing brakes made me turn back to the window. There was a cry and someone was yelling.

  Connor ran to the door. I followed. A bright red Porsche playing music loud enough to vibrate teeth sat right where Kim and Jim had been moments before, its hood covered in coffee and foam. Jim knelt in front of the car, and I was relieved to see a slim hand reach up to grab his arm.

  Thankfully the music was lowered, although not turned off, and the door opened. A man in his late twenties stepped from the car. He ran his hand through his hair and pushed past Connor to where Kim sat. “What were you thinking? I could have killed you!”

  Jim grabbed the driver by the collar and pulled the younger man close. “You were speeding and you almost ran over my wife.” Jim looked to be about twenty pounds heavier and at least that many years older than the driver, but something in his eyes caught the younger man’s attention. It certainly caught mine. Jim clenched his fist.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean for this to happen. It wasn’t my fault. She walked right in front of me.”

  “He’s right, you know.” Kim reached both palms to the sky. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It really was entirely my fault. And it looked worse than it was. He didn’t even hit me. I somehow lost my balance and fell all on my own.” With Jim’s help, she got to her feet. “In fact, I’m lucky you were paying as close attention as you were, Mr.—”

  “Duport.” Big Dave had walked over from the platform. “His name is Vance Duport. He’s my son.”

  I looked at Vance more closely as he turned to his father. Vance was going for preppy in a peach polo shirt and tailored beige shorts, with Sperry boat shoes. He was blond, and had his father’s height, but not his massive frame. He looked like he could be athletic in a sport requiring speed and precision. This was confirmed when I spotted a tennis racket in the backseat of the convertible.

  The car looked brand-new and was obviously expensive. A Porsche Carrera S. I suppose it paid to have a string of family auto dealerships. The license plate was “KissMyS.” Charming.

  I walked to the front of the car. Kim was right. The car hadn’t hit her. Her bag was several feet from the front bumper. Coffee dripped down the hood, but that was the only contact she’d made with the car.

  Big Dave stood talking to Vance a short distance away. Vance had his arms folded and looked to one side. His face was red and he wasn’t speaking.

  A few moments later he walked over to Kim. “I must have been going too fast. I apologize.”

  “No need to apologize. You’re right. I did walk right in front of you.” Kim smiled and touched Vance briefly on the shoulder.

  He turned and flashed his father a look as he jumped back into the car. “I’ll be back. Right after I run the car through the wash.”

  “You don’t have time,” Big Dave said as the train whistle announced its arrival. “Just park the damn thing. It’s only coffee.”

  “There’s a gas station right there. I’m going to rinse it off at least.” Vance slammed the door, threw the car into gear and sped across the lot.

  Connor joined me. “If he wasn’t driving too fast before, he certainly is now.”

  Big Dave apologized to Kim again over her refusal of any more help. He then walked over to us. “That boy’s always driving too fast.” He tugged at his shirt collar and then undid the top button. “You know how I told you I had him while I was still in high school? His mother wasn’t the biggest disciplinarian, and I wasn’t around enough to have much of an influence.”

  “I’m sure you did the best you could.”

  Inadequate, but Big Dave’s shoulders relaxed and he seemed to take comfort in my response.

  Vance rinsed and carefully wiped the hood.

  “I’m not sure that’s the right car for someone who can’t obey the speed limit,” I said. “Maybe you should make him drive a Ford.”

  Big Dave shook his head. “I wouldn’t have bought him a car like that. He got it on his own. Besides, he’s in his thirties. Not much I can do at this point. He’s a man.”

  “I’m surprised he’s here. It just doesn’t seem that a leisurely train ride through wine country would be his type of entertainment.”

  “I’m surprised myself. He was in California already, down in Palm Springs for a tennis match. When he heard what we were doing, he asked to come along. At the time I thought it was a good idea, but this hasn’t been a very good beginning.”

  “Do he and Tara get along?”

  “They don’t really know each other. That’s why I thought it’d be good for them to get better acquainted.”

  “Where is Tara, anyway?”

  Big Dave shrugged. “Doing a bit of shopping. I’m not sure how any woman who has so many darn clothes could want more.”

  He really was cute. Naive, but cute.

  Bill the train guy crossed the street. “You folks all right?” He nodded to Kim. “From where I stood, it looked like you were gone for sure.”

  “Honestly, he didn’t hit me.” Kim laughed, a slight crack in her voice the only sign she was shaken from the experience. “I’m fine, really, and I don’t want to hold up the party.”

  Bill straightened his cap and hooked his thumbs in the straps of his overalls. “A woman with spunk. I like that. If you’re interested, we’re serving mimosas this first leg of the trip. Just follow me, folks.”

  We made our way to the train platform where Antonia waited.

  “That young man nearly ran her over. Damn fool.”

  “That damn fool is Big Dave’s son. We get the pleasure of his company.” I hoisted myself up the metal steps, stopping at the entrance of the car. The interior was paneled in polished mahoganies and rich burgundy brocade. Graceful bronze shelves ran above rows of plush oversized armchairs. Crystal lighting sconces blazed, and the air was scented with lemon oil. Champagne corks popped from somewhere and added to the festive air.

  “It’s certainly lovely,” I said.

  “Yes, well, appearance is only part of it. We need to remember this is a business. Look around. Other than our group, this entire car is empty.” Antonia lowered herself into the seat ahead of me and flagged Bill down.

  “There seems to be a lot of extra room. Has investor interest been low?”

  “We had a group of potential investors that needed to reschedule. We’re running a bit light today is all.”

  Antonia raised her brow. “Any particular reason they cancelled? This isn’t exactly a good sign.”

  “Not cancelled, ma’am, rescheduled for next week.” Bill took off his cap and wiped his brow with his forearm. “They’re planning on coming down next weekend. We’ll have a full load that day.”

  Bill walked away and Antonia turned in her seat to whisper to me. “The train was half an hour late and now this car is only half full. Not a very strong beginning.”

  Chantal turned sideways in the aisle to let Bill
go by and slid into the seat next to Antonia. Her red cashmere sweater looked terrific with her long brunette curls and fire-engine-red lipstick. She gave me that little finger wave. Placing one knee in her seat, she leaned over the backrest. Her cleavage was eye level with Connor seated behind her.

  I pretended to read a magazine and listened to them chat until I heard tires screech. I looked out the window as Vance parked, closed up his car, and hopped on the train. He looked at us in the rear of the train car, Jim and Kim a short distance ahead of us, and flopped down in a front seat.

  A few moments later I looked up. Big Dave was running from across the street, with Tara right on his heels. For a big guy, he moved pretty well, even holding several shopping bags. Tara was quite a sight. She wore a gold-sequined sweater that reflected the sunlight. As she ran, her beehive and other things bounced all over the place. She was loaded down with more goodies and a garment bag from Louis Vuitton.

  Antonia sniffed from the seat in front of me. “Looks like she bought out half the town.”

  Chantal stopped talking to Connor and swiveled in my direction. She pointed through the window. “Who’s that?”

  “His name is Big Dave. You asked me about him before, remember?”

  “No, the girl.”

  “That’s his wife. Tara.”

  Big Dave and Tara climbed onto the train and chose seats in front, across the row from Vance. Big Dave stuffed boxes and bags onto the brass overhead shelf, while Tara casually threw the Vuitton bag over the seat behind her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s married to her?”

  I looked at Chantal. “I know. I’ve never understood what some men find attractive. Stupid is never appealing, even in a tight sweater.”

  The sarcasm was wasted. She nodded agreement and swiveled back in her seat. Connor’s face came into view and he was smiling.

  Four

  “WE sure are going slow.” A short time later Chantal turned once again in her seat to face Connor. “What time do we get there?”