Read Online Days of Wine and Roquefort (Cheese Shop Mystery) by Avery Aames - Free Book Online

the wall for support. “Is there anyone we should call? She said her parents were dead. Maybe an uncle, an aunt?”
    “I don’t . . . know. She . . . we . . . didn’t discuss family.”
    Urso said, “Matthew, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Charlotte”—he gestured with a thumb—“walk me through this. One more time, tell me what happened when you entered.” Usually Urso liked to use formal names when conducting investigations. Matthew and I were exceptions.
    I recounted my movements, step by step. I told him about seeing the items turned topsy-turvy and spotting Noelle. “She wasn’t dead yet.”
    Urso crouched beside Noelle and pointed at the weapon. “This is a corkscrew.”
    “Yes, it was a wedding favor from Matthew and Meredith’s wedding.”
    Matthew gasped, apparently not having seen the weapon prior to that moment.
    “You kept the corkscrew in your garage?” Urso said.
    “No. Mine is in the kitchen.” While waiting for the police to arrive, I had checked. The favor I received at the wedding was still in its silver box nestled in a drawer. “That must be Noelle’s. She attended the wedding. Do you remember meeting her? She was in for a few hours and left.”
    Urso grimaced. “If you recall, I was preoccupied with another situation.”
    How could I forget? Our fair town had been in turmoil then, too. After the last murder that had occurred in Providence, a journalist wrote that evil comes with growth, and Providence, which was burgeoning, could not escape what the rest of the world knew to be commonplace. I had wadded up the article and used it to light tinder for a fire.
    “She brought the corkscrew with her,” I said. “As a memento of good times and good fortunes.”
    “Go on.” Urso rose to his full height and eyed the mess of Tupperware boxes, the nails, and the other items that had spilled onto the tarp.
    I noticed stacks of my parents’ love letters among the chaos. The killer had emptied out one of the Tupperware boxes. I moved to fetch them.
    “Hold it,” Urso said.
    “U-ey.” I explained what the letters were. “I’ve been all around this garage. Evidence of my DNA has to be everywhere. Let me collect those. They’re fragile.” When he didn’t argue, I gathered up the stacks, showed him the Tupperware was empty of anything else, then returned the letters to the box and sealed it. Refocusing on Noelle, I said, “She was still breathing when I got here. I raced to her. She tried to say my name.”
    “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
    “I only had time to tell you the basics. I had the twins to think of.” I replaced the Tupperware box on the shelf. “Noelle also whispered, ‘Hell’s key.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
    “Boyd Hellman,” Matthew blurted.
    “Hellman?” I said. “That’s his last name?”
    Urso said, “Who’s that?”
    “Her ex-boyfriend.” Matthew stepped forward, hands balled into fists.
    “I met him,” I said, recalling the rage of red. “He showed up at the shop yesterday, furious that Noelle left Cleveland without telling him. She was embarrassed then angry that he had tracked her down. She ordered him to leave her alone. He stormed out of the shop. Later, when I asked her about him, she said she wasn’t worried because she saw him split town in his beat-up Chevy Malibu.”
    “Color of the car?” Urso asked.
    “Metallic green.”
    Matthew’s eyes widened. “U-ey, I saw a car meeting the description parked near the pub about two hours ago. He might still be in town. If Noelle said, ‘Hell’s key,’ maybe she meant that Boyd Hellman killed her.”
    “Was the guy abusive?” Urso jammed a hand into his trouser pocket and worked coins through his fingers, a habit he had picked up way back in seventh grade. “Was that why she left him?”
    “I don’t know,” Matthew offered.
    “They broke up a few months ago,” I said.
    “That had to tick him off,” Urso said.
    “But would he