Free One Foot in the Grape by Carlene O'Neil Page A

for my eyes to adjust and crept to the rear of the building.
    The only sounds were my footsteps and the soft hum of the fans. I walked slowly down the center aisle. Nothing seemed out of place. If there had been someone in the building, they were gone now.
    I turned around at the large metal tanks and retraced my steps. When I reached the middle of the row, there was a crash from outside to the rear of the building, then the whine of an electric motor. There was a shout and the whirl of machinery beyond the back doors.
    I ran back, pushed open the rear exit and stumbled outside. In front of me were the two winery crushers. The crusher to my left was on. The grind of machinery and the whirl of spinning blades filled the night air.
    I went to the machine and climbed the four metal steps to where the grapes were dumped into the crusher. The moon broke through the fog and exposed the silver lever. I stepped on something as I reached and turned off the machine. Silenced descended. The moonlight was bright now as I looked down into the crusher.
    It took a moment for my brain to catch up and for me to realize the crusher wasn’t empty, that it wasn’t a simple trick of the light. It took even longer to understand the dark stain that covered the steel beneath me. I looked again and turned away. My eyes landed on what I’d kicked. A Stetson hat.

Seven

    I GRABBED the rail, took a deep breath and managed to make it down the stairs before my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the bottom step and stared at the moon until it began to blur. Then I dropped my head between my knees and tried not to pass out.
    Crushers were designed to slice through grapes and any remaining stems. There wasn’t any need to call for help. The only thing I’d recognized was Todd’s hat. My eyes closed against the night, against what I’d just seen. I sat for a few moments, breathing deeply.
    When I could, I opened my eyes and waited for my head to clear. The flashlight swung up the front steps as Hayley returned to the house. I started to yell but turned to look down to the clearing, and the sound died on my lips. Hayley stood next to our booth in the festival area stacking boxes.
    My eyes shifted back to the house. Whoever held the lightwas at the top of the steps. The beam arched across the landscape and the entire yard was illuminated. The light swung my way. Even though it was too far away for me to be seen, instinct took over and I ducked. The light lingered for what seemed an eternity. It finally disappeared, and the front door softly closed.
    With both hands on the rail, I pulled myself up. I swayed and stumbled back into the fermentation building. The fire alarm was to the side of the door and I hit the switch. The sound blared through the building and bounced off the steel tanks. I turned on the lights. Whoever had killed Todd hadn’t turned any of them on, hadn’t touched any of the switches. Not that it would matter. It was someone who’d returned to the main house, someone whose fingerprints belonged there. I walked down the row and reached the front doors just as they opened.
    Brice shut his phone as he stepped into the building, with Francesca right behind him. She was pushed out of the way by Stephen. Veronica clung to his arm, and both of them now wore robes.
    â€œI’ve called the fire station,” Stephen shouted.
    Connor arrived with Antonia, and he ran to turn off the alarm.
    Hayley came through the rear double doors, followed by Marvin.
    Chantal was the last to enter the building. She’d changed into red hip-skimming sweats and a midriff top and was out of breath.
    â€œSo,” Francesca glanced around. “Not that it’s any of my concern, but where’s the fire?”
    â€œTodd’s dead.” It came out as a whisper and nobody heard me.
    â€œThere isn’t any fire.” I spoke louder this time. I wiped the dampness from my forehead with the back of my