Free Ellen McKenzie 03-And Murder for Desser by Kathleen Delaney Page A

shook her head some more. Evidently I was to come alone.
    “I’ll come with you,” offered Dan. His back was to the doors and he hadn’t spotted Sabrina.
    “I’ll be right back.” I smiled brightly at his puzzled face and headed for the doors. Sabrina had disappeared.
    “What’s going on?” Sabrina was over by the railing, looking down at the crush pad. There was a tray with several empty glasses on our picnic table.
    “Look.” The tragedy in her voice would have made Lady Macbeth proud. “Tell me I’m seeing things, because I don’t want to believe this.”
    “Believe what?” I walked toward the edge of the deck, to where one side of the gate that had been securely fastened a short time ago now swung open, and looked down. She didn’t have to explain, and she wasn’t seeing things. There was Otto, half submerged in the fermenting tank, the thick cap the only thing keeping him from sinking. One side of his head dripped a trickle of bright blood into the duller, dark red juice. His tall hat, no longer white, lay quietly beside him. On his other side was the champagne bottle.
    “Oh my God,” I got out.
    “Mark will be so upset,” Sabrina said, shock making a blank mask of her face. “I don’t think they will be able to use that wine now.”

Chapter Seven
     
    Frozen, I stared down at Otto, or what had once been Otto. The sound of the French doors opening and the scrape of footsteps defrosted me quickly.
    “Ellie? What’s going on? Sabrina?” Dan’s voice was merely curious.
    “Don’t come over here!” Sabrina jumped between Dan and the railing.
    “Why?” Dan caught her by the shoulders and gently moved her aside. “Okay, Ellie. What’s wrong?”
    “Oh, lots. Look down there.”
    “Son of a—How did he get in that tank?”
    “How would I know?”
    “Sabrina?” Dan asked.
    “I don’t know.” Her hands flew to her face, and she gasped. “The dessert. It’s time to serve. Damn that Otto. I just knew he meant to ruin everything.”
    “I doubt if he meant to do it by dying,” Dan said.
    “Are you sure he’s dead?” But I knew better.
    “Am I—Come on, Ellie. Look at the man.”
    I already had.
    “I need to call it in. Sabrina, I need Mark’s office. That one?” He pointed toward one of the closed doors. She nodded. “You two, stay here. No, don’t stay here. Come with me.”
    “Dan. Don’t call it in yet.” Sabrina was almost in tears. “Let me finish the dinner. This will ruin everything.”
    “Sabrina, the man is dead. And something about the dent in his head makes me think he didn’t jump. I am a cop, remember? What’s more, I am the Chief. Come on.”
    Sabrina and I followed Dan back through the dining room. I rolled my eyes at Aunt Mary as we passed our table. She started to push back her chair but I shook my head at her, and she stopped. She looked puzzled and a little alarmed. Exactly how I felt. It was clear Dan didn’t think Otto had hit himself on the head and then jumped into the wine tank, which left murder, and that meant a long and uncomfortable night.
    “In here?” Dan asked Sabrina, pushing open one of the doors.
    “Yes. Can you at least ask them not to come with sirens blaring?”
    A reasonable request, I thought, but Dan didn’t respond.
    “You two, don’t move. And if anyone asks you any questions, don’t answer. I’ll be right back.” He closed the office door behind him.
    “Sabrina.” It was Larry Whittaker. “We’ve cleared all the plates, and I think we should serve the dessert, but I can’t find Otto.”
    “Oh, Lord,” Sabrina said faintly.
    “Is something wrong?” The anxious look he’d worn when Otto was having his temper tantrum in the kitchen had returned.
    “Why don’t you go ahead,” I said. “I’m sure Otto won’t mind.” I was more than sure. I was positive.
    “How true,” murmured Sabrina. “Go on, Larry. Serve it.”
    “If you’re sure.” Larry looked doubtfully from one of us to the other.
    “I’m