Read Online The Riesling Retribution by Ellen Crosby - Free Book Online Page A

they’re done. The other cruisers and that crime scene van just left.”
    “It only took them one day?”
    “Guess so. Maybe you can ask him.”
    “Don’t worry. I will.”
    Bobby’s shirt was soaked with perspiration and his hair was plastered to his head like he’d gone swimming.
    “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked. “We’ve got bottled water and a few sodas in a cooler. They’re still cold.”
    “Thanks, but I got my own cooler in the car.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, revealing a triangle of white skin at his hairline that contrasted with the rest of his sunburned face.
    “I came by to let you know that we’re finished,” he said. “The crime scene tape will stay up for a few more days and we’re coming back to clear out the underbrush that’s nearby in case we missed something there.”
    “You’ve removed the remains?” I asked. “Completely?”
    He nodded.
    “Did you find anything else besides the skull and that bone Bruja dug up?”
    His smile was weary. “Sorry. I can’t say.”
    “Well, could you identify him from just the skull, if that’s all you got?”
    “That’s Junie’s department.”
    “You’re not going to tell me anything.”
    “Right now there’s nothing to tell.”
    I sighed and gave up. “You and Kit are coming this weekend for our twentieth?”
    His face cracked into a small smile. “We’re counting on it.”
    “I knew I’d get you to answer at least one question,” I said.
    “You always were like a dog with a bone,” he said. “As long as I’ve known you.”
    “You could have picked a different analogy than dogs and bones. Or answered a different question.”
    He grinned. “I kind of liked that one. Be seeing you.” He had his hand on the doorknob when he paused and turned around.
    “I will tell you this. It seems like we’re talking about only one person out there.”
    After he left I made so many mistakes on the tax report that I finally threw down my pencil and went outside on the terrace. Frankie found me there, staring at the fields and vines. She handed me a glass of wine that I hadn’t asked for. Perfectly chilled Riesling.
    “Where’d you get this?”
    “I went over to the barrel room. Want to talk about it? Might make you feel better.”
    I drank some wine as she sat down in one of the wicker chairs and pulled it closer.
    “I know I should be focusing on the tornado damage, but I just keep thinking about that skull. Wondering who he is and how he got there. Bobby thinks the odds are good whoever killed him had ties to the farm.” I paused. “Even Eli wondered if Leland might be involved somehow.”
    “And you don’t think he was?” Her voice was gentle, but there was a hint of reproach that I shouldn’t kid myself.
    I chose my words with care. “My father was a complicated man who didn’t always show good judgment. He made lousy business decisions and he gambled. And he had his share of affairs, though through everything he loved my mother. Sometimes I think he didn’t believe he was worthy of her and that’s why he had the affairs.”
    “I wish I’d known your mother,” Frankie said.
    I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wish you’d known Leland, huh?”
    “I didn’t say that—”
    “Never mind. I’m just giving you a hard time.” I sipped my wine and touched the chilled glass to my cheek. It felt good. “It probably seems odd that I’m defending my father, but I know he’s no murderer. He didn’t kill that man and then cover it up for the rest of his life. It would have consumed him if he did.”
    Frankie put two fingers across her lips like she was thinking as her eyes roved over my face. I thought I saw pity in them.
    “You don’t believe me?” I asked. “You think I can’t be objective.”
    “Of course I believe you,” she said. “Maybe the best thing is to put this out of your mind until they identify the body. Then take it from there.” She stood up. “Let me get that