1 A Ghost for Christmas by J.D. Winters

Author:J.D. Winters [Winters, J.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Doorknock Publishing
Published: 2014-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I waited for Bebe to tell me what she was feeling—because I could tell there was a lot of internal chaos going on there. We began cleaning up the kitchen and stacking the dishes, and still she didn’t say a word. She washed and I dried, trying to think of a way to broach the subject, but she started a different one before I could think of anything.

“So-how did you like your tour of my beautiful farm?” she asked, giving me a one armed hug as she passed me. “Did Hank show you everything?”

“I guess so. What he showed me was awesome. I knew you were doing well, but just seeing all those fields and fields of flowers was out of this world.”

She looked pleased. “Yes. Jimmy’s family built a wonderful business here. I only wish he could have stuck around a little longer to enjoy all this success.”

“I’m sure he would be proud of what you’ve done with it.”

“I hope so. And I managed to keep the land. It wasn’t easy. Kyle tried every way he could think of the wrench it away from me.”

“What did he want it for?”

“More grapes, of course. As if he didn’t own half the grapes in the universe already.” She looked a bit embarrassed. “Well, that’s an exaggeration, but doesn’t it seem like everywhere you turn, grapes are staring you in the face?” She grinned suddenly. “He was especially angry about that little spit of land we have that shoots right through the heart of his vineyards and ends just below his pool area, practically dumping out into his house. He hated that we had that. And if he’d been nice about it, I might have negotiated something with him. After all, that small area takes about half of Hank’s time. Somehow something is always going wrong there. We’ve got it planted in red roses right now.” She laughed. “I liked to kid him, saying it was the heart of the valley, all those red roses. That made him gnash his teeth and growl.”

Interesting, but not quite what I felt we needed to talk about, and she looked like she was floating away on memories. Silence reigned again and I realized I was going to have to stir the pot if I wanted to get anything out of her.

“So, did you get a chance to talk to Caroline?” I asked her as I hung the damp towel on the oven door.

She looked up as though she was surprised I was still there.

“Yes,” she said. “We had a long talk.”

I waited a couple of minutes but it soon became obvious she wasn’t going to volunteer much more. “Did she confess to you?” I asked bluntly, partly because I was just tired of all this walking on eggshells around the subject.

Bebe didn’t act surprised to be challenged in quite that way. She just sighed and slumped down into a chair. “No,” she said, then looked at me. “How do you know I didn’t do it?”

I sat down across the counter from her.

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