One for the Road Read online

  Dot squeezed her hand. ‘You can eat more leftovers with me later, you and Michael. Right now I’m going to take a nap, but I’ll see you at six.’

  Jill considered her options. She could check email or call her mom or re-do her chipped nails. Then the reality of attending a funeral on Tuesday popped into her head. She couldn’t wear her jeans or shorts or pastel capris. Even her one skirt had pink and blue flowers. Grabbing Dot’s car keys, Jill headed to downtown Roseville and its sole dress shop.

  Once inside the sweet-smelling boutique, Jill stated her few but mandatory requirements to the helpful clerk: ‘I need a dress in black, relatively close to a size eight, and not too short.’

  ‘I have one that fits the bill!’ The clerk marched into the back room. Five minutes later, she emerged with a hanger dangling from her finger. ‘What do you think?’ she asked.

  Jill had to admit it met her requirements: the black dress was in a size ten with a hem stopping at mid-knee. Unfortunately, it also had a little white collar, a rope belt and puffy sleeves, which made it hideous.

  Nevertheless, she handed the clerk her credit card. ‘I’ll take it.’

  After checking her watch, Jill crossed the street to House of Flowers. After all, she was family, whether shirttail or not. ‘I need to order flowers for a funeral,’ she announced.

  ‘Local or FTD?’ asked a bored man while paging through a magazine.

  ‘Local, the Roger Clark funeral at Trehanny’s.’

  The man closed his magazine. ‘Yes, ma’am. Family or friend?’

  ‘Family. I want something nice, second only to the widow’s arrangement, with whatever you have on hand or can get by Monday’s visitation.’

  His eyes rounded. ‘Do I have your permission to use orchids and African lilies like I will for Mrs Clark’s arrangement?’

  ‘You do.’ Jill laid her credit card on the counter.

  ‘The prices for those flowers change on a daily basis. I won’t know how much to charge you until after I finish the arrangement.’

  Jill circled her email address on her business card and set it next to her credit card. ‘Run the card now and email me your final bill.’

  ‘Of course, ma’am.’ The proprietor wasted no time doing as she asked.

  Jill returned to Sweet Dreams feeling grown up and like she’d accomplished something. She had just enough time to wash up and get down to the kitchen where Aunt Dot was already reheating casseroles.

  ‘Ah, there you are, but where’s your partner?’ Dot took two more bowls from the refrigerator.

  ‘I have no idea. I thought Michael would be back by the time I finished my errands. I can’t imagine why shooting video would take this long.’ Jill stepped into the hallway and tapped Michael’s speed-dial button on her phone. But her call went straight to voicemail. After leaving him a scathing message, she took her usual place at the table.

  ‘No luck?’ Dot passed her a bowl of scalloped ham and potatoes.

  ‘He didn’t pick up, but I’m sure everything’s OK. Sometimes Michael can be a perfectionist. If he doesn’t join us while we’re eating, I’ll fix him a plate he can reheat later.’

  ‘Will you fix one for that nice Lieutenant Harris, too?’ asked Dot. ‘Then we can finish off several bowls.’

  ‘I would be happy to.’

  While the two women ate dinner Jill brought up a tricky subject. ‘I called my grandmother last night to see how she’s doing.’

  Dot swallowed a mouthful of potatoes. ‘And how is Emma?’

  ‘Fine, I guess, but she doesn’t like the assisted living center that my mom found for her.’

  ‘Oh, why not?’ Dot’s focus remained on her plate.

  ‘She hates being surrounded by old people.’ Jill grinned as she took another spoonful of beans.

  ‘That sounds like Emma. Why can’t she live on her own?’ Dot finally looked Jill in the eye.

  ‘Granny broke her hip last summer and went to rehab after the hospital. When rehab discharged her, my parents put her in Shady Grove Assisted Living since all her bedrooms were upstairs. Well, now Granny is better and insists she can live on her own. But my parents like knowing someone’s around twenty-four-seven since they both work.’

  ‘Can Emma walk around fairly well?’ Dot asked.

  ‘She says she can. She says she can even climb steps.’

  ‘Your parents have no right to keep Emma a prisoner. Even old people have rights.’

  ‘I was hoping you might say that. Got any advice for me?’

  Dot opened her mouth, but closed it just as quickly. ‘Emma wouldn’t want me intruding in family business.’

  ‘Even if it was to help her?’ Jill lifted and dropped her shoulders.

  ‘Even if. Emma Vanderpool was always a prideful woman.’

  ‘Maybe you both are.’ Jill reached for Dot’s hand. ‘Are you ever going to tell me what happened?’

  Dot released a sound similar to a coyote’s howl. ‘It’s very embarrassing. I don’t want you to think poorly of me.’

  ‘I promise, I won’t.’ As soon as Jill uttered the words, her mind began imagining the worst possible scenarios.

  ‘I stole Jimmy O’Connor away from her. Jimmy was Emma’s boyfriend and she really liked him. But I liked him too, secretly, since we were all in the eighth grade. Well, Jimmy started flirting with me at a football game that Emma couldn’t be at because she had to babysit.’ Dot paused to gauge her reaction.

  Jill was having difficulty matching the narrative with the neatly coifed woman in pumps and Estee Lauder perfume. ‘What kind of flirting?’ she prodded.

  ‘Oh, you know, the usual: switching seats so we’d be together, running his fingers up my back, holding my hand under the stadium blanket.’

  Jill smiled. ‘Sounds pretty innocent.’

  ‘At first, yes. Then he followed me to the snack bar and kissed me under the bleachers. I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t. I kissed him back because I had never kissed anyone before.’

  Jill’s face began to hurt from holding in laughter. ‘Sorry, Aunt Dot.’

  ‘Go ahead and laugh, but those were innocent times. Kissing meant you were practically engaged. Anyway, that night I felt so ashamed. I prayed all weekend that no one saw us and everything would go back to normal on Monday. I never wanted to hurt Emma.’ Dot’s face turned the color of ripe raspberries.

  ‘But someone did see you two.’

  Dot nodded. ‘By the time the bus dropped me off, everyone at school knew. And what’s worse, Jimmy told Emma he wanted to break up and date me. He just didn’t know how to tell her.’

  ‘Wow, not a very smooth move.’

  ‘You’re not kidding. Of course, I told him to get lost, but the damage had been done. No matter what I said or did, Emma hated me after that. In a few months, we both graduated and she moved to Illinois.’ Dot rose to her feet. ‘You see? Emma has every right not wanting me in her life. I can’t be trusted.’

  ‘You were eighteen. Granny needs to get over it.’

  Dot patted her arm. ‘Try Michael’s number again. You’re lucky to have such a good friend.’

  Jill tried Michael’s number with the same results. Short on options, she sprinted up the stairs to Harris’s room and pounded on the door with her fist.

  Nick yanked open the door almost immediately. ‘Miss Curtis, is everything all right?’

  ‘I wanted you to know Mrs Clark left dinner for you in the refrigerator in case you haven’t eaten yet.’

  ‘That’s why you knocked as though the house was on fire?’ He stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

  ‘I’m worried about my videographer, Michael Erickson. He went to Black Creek hours ago to shoot footage and hasn’t returned yet.’

  ‘I thought the distillery was still closed.’

  ‘It is, but Mrs Clark arranged for the security guard to let Michael in. It shouldn’t have taken this long. I think we should check the place out.’

  ‘I agree.’ Harris c
rossed the room to where his holster and weapon hung on a hook. ‘I’ll ask Sheriff Adkins to meet us there. In the meantime, you get the security guard’s number from Mrs Clark, along with any other contact numbers she might have.’

  With growing trepidation, Jill watched him strap on his weapon before she ran downstairs. Five minutes later they were speeding toward Black Creek Distillery as fast as the narrow highway would allow with lights flashing. Neither the security guard nor Gordon Clark, Roger’s nephew and right-hand man, answered their phones.

  ‘I can’t believe Mrs Clark only had the number for the guard who usually worked nights,’ Harris muttered without taking his eyes off the road. ‘Nobody can work twenty-four-seven, seven days a week.’

  Jill gripped her seat with both hands as they rounded a corner. ‘From what I gather, Roger took care of making bourbon at Black Creek, while Gordon scheduled the guards for all shifts. Mrs Clark handled the B and B and stayed out of distillery business. Roger and Dot might not have shared particulars with each other.’

  Harris shook his head. ‘That poor woman has a mess on her hands with his passing.’

  Reluctant to reveal too much, Jill concentrated on reaching either the night watchman or Gordon Clark for the rest of the drive. When they arrived at Black Creek, she spotted Michael’s car in the main parking lot while a second vehicle was parked at the loading dock.

  ‘I’m going to try that door first.’ Harris pointed at the employee entrance. ‘You should wait in the car, Miss Curtis.’

  ‘Nothing doing.’ Jill jumped out and followed him through the unlocked door. ‘I want to know if my partner fell asleep on the job.’

  They found themselves in a hallway lined with bulletin boards, a timeclock and racks of timecards on one side, and employee lockers on the other. The hallway led to a messy room with plastic tables and chairs, with a glass enclosed office at the far end. A man with his back to them stared at a small television set, instead of the security monitors flashing images of various locations around the plant. Since the TV’s volume had been turned as high as it would go, Jill and Harris could hear that the guard was watching major league baseball.

  ‘I guess we know why he didn’t answer his phone,’ Harris muttered. The state trooper looked so angry Jill thought he might pull out his gun and shoot the guy in the leg. Harris marched into the office and slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he drawled.

  The guard scrambled to remove his feet from the desktop. ‘Who the heck are you two and how did you get in here?’ Indignation quickly replaced his shock.

  ‘I am Lieutenant Nick Harris from the Kentucky State Police and this is Jill Curtis, who’s writing a travel feature on the bourbon industry. She has Mrs Clark’s permission to be here.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘We entered the facility through an unlocked employee door. Now, if it isn’t too much trouble, we have a couple of questions for you.’

  Mr Florio, according to his name badge, crossed his arms defensively. ‘What can I do for you, Trooper?’

  ‘Michael Erickson came here earlier today to take video of the distillery and still hasn’t returned to Mrs Clark’s B and B. Do you remember him?’

  ‘Skinny guy, glasses, blond hair, carrying a bag that weighed as much as him?’

  ‘Yep, that’s him,’ Jill snapped. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I have no idea. I’m guessin’ he took whatever pictures he needed and left.’

  ‘Really? Then why is his car still in the parking lot?’ Jill approached the guard with fisted hands.

  ‘Look, lady,’ he snarled. ‘It’s not my job—’

  Nick didn’t give the slacker a chance to finish. ‘No, you look, Mr Florio. The security of Black Creek Distillery is your responsibility. They don’t pay you to watch the Braves beat the Red Socks. When Sheriff Adkins arrives, tell him we’re searching the building for Mr Erickson, unless that would overtax your abilities.’ Nick didn’t wait for the guard’s reply. Instead he guided Jill through a set of doors into the hallway.

  ‘Did you see all those security monitors?’ she asked. ‘Maybe one of those cameras caught Roger’s murder on Wednesday night.’

  ‘Sheriff Adkins and I already thought of that. We got the key from the guard who went home sick, Elmer Maxwell, even though he doesn’t remember locking the room. All the tapes for Wednesday were blank, either erased or the cameras had been switched off.’

  ‘How convenient. Either that guy erased them or looked the other way while someone else did.’

  ‘That’s our feeling too, but without proof our hands are tied.’

  Jill pulled open the door to the area marked ‘Mixing and Distillation’. ‘As soon as we find Michael, let’s beat the truth out of old Elmer.’

  Room by room, the two of them searched for any sign that Michael Erickson had been there. When they worked their way down to the cavernous rickhouse, filled from floor to ceiling with barrels of bourbon aging to perfection, an ominous sensation of dread crawled up Jill’s spine. ‘This is the room where I found Roger Clark,’ she murmured.

  Nick hesitated just inside the doorway. ‘If you’d like to stay here, I’ll search and come back for you.’

  ‘No, Michael is my best friend. He deserves someone who’s not a coward.’ Jill followed Harris down the first aisle of barrels, keeping pace with him until they’d searched the entire barn. There was no sign of the videographer. Underneath the sign, Exit this way, Jill scanned the parking lot from the window. Empty, except for one Styrofoam cup dancing in the breeze among the dead leaves.

  ‘What now, Detective?’ she asked.

  ‘We retrace our steps at a slower pace. We must have missed something.’

  And so they did.

  They looked under displays, checked closets, and even searched each employee locker without a lock. In one of the first rooms on the tour, where grain was ground and mixed to specific proportions, Jill noticed a narrow catwalk running along two sides. Roger or one of his foremen would have been able to keep an eye on workers or a specific tour group unnoticed. ‘Let’s find the staircase that leads up there.’ She pointed with her index finger.

  ‘No one’s up there, Jill. The catwalk has an open grate for a floor.’

  ‘I know, but maybe there’s a hidden nook we can’t see.’

  Harris nodded. ‘I’ll head to the right. You go to the left.’

  Jill did as instructed but found nothing but a closet full of cleaning supplies.

  ‘Over here, Miss Curtis.’

  Jill bolted through a set of swinging doors in the direction of his voice, and almost smacked into Harris.

  He stopped her progress with a steadying head. ‘How did we miss this?’ He pointed at a massive fake plant in an alcove, which hid an elevator. According to the buttons, a person could travel up to C or down to B.

  ‘Looks like Roger didn’t want tourists going in either direction.’ Jill pressed both buttons, waited, and then pressed them again several times. Yet after a full minute, no elevator car arrived.

  ‘The buttons don’t even light up,’ Nick observed. ‘My guess is someone switched off the power.’

  ‘You don’t think …’ Jill didn’t wait for a reply. She pounded on the steel door with both fists. ‘Michael!’ she hollered at the top of her lungs. ‘Are you in there?’ She continued to beat on the door until Nick grabbed her arm.

  ‘Take it easy before you hurt yourself. Let’s listen and see if we hear anything.’

  Jill swallowed down the lump of panic which had clouded her judgment. She pressed her ear to the metal on one side while Harris listened close to the floor at the other. ‘Did you hear that?’ she shrieked. ‘He’s in there. Hang on, Mikey. Help is on the way!’

  While Jill tried to assure her partner, Nick was already on the phone with Sheriff Adkins. ‘We’re near the front entrance. There’s an alcove off to the left. Get the fire department here on the double. We may need an elevator rescue. Are you still in the security monitoring room?’ When
Nick met her eye he frowned. ‘Have Mr Florio show you where the main electrical board is. Make sure all breakers are on. I suspect someone switched the circuit to the elevator off.’ Nick listened, nodded at her, and hung up.

  ‘Let’s find the electrical panel ourselves,’ said Jill. ‘If that creep, Florio, turned off the power with Michael inside I’ll beat the tar out of him.’

  ‘And I won’t stop you. But Sheriff Adkins wants someone to wait for the fire department at the front door. Don’t you think you should stay and keep your partner’s spirits up? Let him know someone is still here?’

  ‘Good idea. We’re coming, Michael. Hang in there.’ Jill pounded on the door and then listened. Unfortunately, she heard nothing in return.

  How much air is in an elevator?

  How long has Michael been inside?

  Is there a vent to the open shaft?

  Questions swirled through her mind until a ruckus in the lobby signaled the arrival of rescuers.

  ‘Tell them to hurry,’ she pleaded when Nick’s head popped around the corner.

  Then almost simultaneously, the up and down buttons lit up. ‘The power is on,’ she cried. Pressing both buttons, Jill heard the sweet sound of an elevator whooshing to her floor.

  Two firemen, carrying oxygen and a defibrillator, pushed past her. ‘We’ll take it from here, miss,’ said one. The two jumped into action the moment the door opened.

  Despite Harris’s firm hand on her shoulder, Jill craned her neck into the elevator and spotted Michael sitting cross-legged on the floor. Although his face was streaked with sweat, he looked no worse for wear. ‘It’s about time you missed me, Curtis,’ he moaned. ‘I could have starved to death in here. Plus an extra bottle of water would have been nice.’

  With one on each side, the firemen hauled Michael to his feet. ‘Are you all right, sir? Do you need medical assistance?’ The fireman tried to slip an oxygen mask over his face, but Michael pushed it away.

  ‘What I need is a more attentive colleague. Other than that, I’m fine.’

  Jill elbowed her way into the already crowded elevator. ‘Stop your whining. I missed you, didn’t I? Now give me a hug.’