“Thanks, Mom.”

  We walked into the dining room to find Julianne there, with Marcus standing next to her and Honey in the corner on her own.

  Channing was by the drinks cabinet, looking like he hadn’t slowed down since we met earlier that afternoon. He raised his glass when he spotted us. “Ladies, might I get you both a drink?”

  Julianne glanced over at him and shook her head before smiling at us. “Welcome. And help yourself to drinks. Ignore Channing’s attempts to get you drunk.”

  “Nothing wrong with having a few drinks,” said Channing, shrugging his shoulders. “What will it be?” He waved a bottle of champagne in the air.

  “Just a small one,” I said to him.

  “I love champagne.” Helen grinned at me before hurrying over and taking two full glasses of bubbly from Channing.

  “I am sorry for our unexpected introduction today,” said Channing, giving Helen a lopsided smile. “Never fallen for a girl so easily before. But you are jolly pretty.”

  “No harm done,” said Helen, as a blush crept across her cheeks.

  “Didn’t you mention something about a bruise?” I asked Helen, trying to look as innocent as possible.

  “Don’t say I hurt you?” Channing looked mortified. “You’ll have to let me rub it better.”

  “No need.” Helen’s hand brushed across her backside. “And you didn’t hurt me. Lorna is talking nonsense.”

  “You must let me make it up to you,” said Channing. “I can show you around the village. Show you all the good spots, the places the tourists aren’t aware of.”

  “You only know good places to go drinking,” said Julianne from across the room.

  “Naturally,” said Channing, giving Helen a wink. “But there are some excellent restaurants around here, especially if you like seafood.”

  “It’s one of my favorites,” said Helen, who enjoyed all food.

  “Then it’s a date.” He leaned down and patted Flipper’s head. “And your wolf dog can come along. Most of the local places are happy to accept well-behaved animals. Although I did hear an amusing rumor he’d lost his lunch on The Orwell. That’s not a habit of his, is it?”

  “No, that was a one-off.” At least I hoped it was. If Flipper kept being sick, I’d have to take him to his least favorite place, the vet.

  “Jolly good,” said Channing. “Well, bottoms up and welcome to the family.”

  I looked around the room and noticed several oil paintings of what must be family members hanging on the walls. On the sideboard by the drinks cabinet was a picture of Julianne and what must be her husband, standing in a formal pose, both smiling at the camera. “Is this Mr. Carlisle?”

  Channing nodded. “That’s my brother.”

  “Will he be joining us tonight?”

  Channing scratched his head. “That might be a problem.”

  “Is he away on business?” asked Helen.

  Channing looked at the ground. “Ah, well, you see—”

  “Dinner is served,” called Julianne, gesturing us toward the smartly laid wooden table. “Everyone take a seat. We’ve got local crab tonight as a main course.”

  Channing gestured to the table. “Off you go, ladies. Julianne doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” He refilled his glass and took a large sip.

  I wanted to know more about the elusive Mr. Carlisle, but it looked like Channing wasn’t willing to share just yet.

  We walked over and took our seats. I could already smell a rich butter and parsley sauce drifting from the silver tureens in the center of the table. I was surprised to see Honey serving the dinner, hurrying around with a scowl on her face as she laid out the rest of the serving dishes.

  Channing wandered around, filling everyone’s glasses with white wine before taking his seat next to Helen, a glass of whiskey in one hand to accompany his wine.

  “This all looks lovely,” said Helen, as she heaped vegetables and potatoes onto her plate.

  “Most of the produce is local,” said Julianne. “We like to support local businesses. We have many restaurants who take our wine, so feel it’s right to return the favor. These crabs were caught fresh today. Best you’ll ever have.”

  I glanced at the empty seat at the head of the table. There was no place setting. “Is your husband joining us?”

  Julianne glanced around the table as she flapped her napkin onto her lap. “He’s not here.”

  Channing’s eyebrows raised. “You haven’t told them what’s gone on?”

  A sense of unease curled around my spine and I felt Helen nudge my knee.

  “Not yet,” said Julianne, her gaze turning icy as she glared at Channing. “I didn’t want to unsettle our new employees with sad news on their first day.”

  “Is there a problem?” I asked. “I hope Mr. Carlisle isn’t ill.”

  “Not as such,” said Julianne, as she fussed with her napkin. “It’s simply that my husband, Blake, passed away recently.”

  Helen kicked me under the table and I repressed a grimace. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It was a shock for us all,” said Julianne. “I’m still not used to him being gone.”

  Honey dropped a serving spoon on the floor and rushed to pick it up.

  “You’re so clumsy,” snapped Julianne. “Everyone has enough food. You can leave now. We will serve ourselves if we need any more.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Carlisle,” muttered Honey, as she dashed out of the dining room.

  “That girl is hopeless,” said Julianne. She turned back to us and let out a sigh. “Yes, poor Blake. It was a tragic accident. He loved that yacht. I imagine he felt safe there. He never expected to die on it.”

  “He died on The Orwell?”

  “That’s right,” said Channing. “Poor guy fell overboard and drowned.”

  “So you say.”

  I jumped at the sound of a deep male voice behind me and turned to see a middle-aged man with a wine paunch, dressed in a dark suit, leaning against the doorjamb.

  “James! I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” said Julianne.

  He sauntered into the room and gestured to the empty seat at the head of the table. “May I?”

  “No one else will sit there,” said Julianne, with another sigh. “Grab a plate from the side and join us. There’s plenty of food. But you’re so early; your room isn’t even made up.”

  “Not a problem. I know how to put a sheet on a bed. I got an earlier train than planned. I’ve got a busy few days ahead of me.” He looked around the table, his gaze stopping at Helen and me. “We’ve not met before. I’m James Pagent.”

  Julianne made the introductions. “This is their first day here. Lorna and Helen are just getting to know us.”

  James had a well-proportioned face, some might say handsome, with a strong jawline and bright blue eyes. His nose had a hint of someone who enjoyed too much wine, with tiny broken veins on the surface.

  “What were you saying?” I asked James, keen to hear his theory about Blake’s death. “You don’t think Mr. Carlisle’s death was an accident?”

  “He was the best sailor around,” said James, as he accepted wine from Channing and sat down. “Loved that yacht and could walk around it blindfolded. But he falls overboard from the top deck when it’s in the harbor? Makes no sense.”

  “The police investigated and said it was a tragic accident,” said Julianne. “He got disorientated in the dark.”

  “He’d probably been drinking,” said Channing. “Can make anyone unsteady on their feet.”

  “He could hold his alcohol,” said James, as he drained half his wine glass. “Blake didn’t fall.”

  “What are you suggesting?” asked Julianne. “Nobody would want to push my husband overboard. He was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was the best of men,” said James. “I miss him not being around.”

  “Now he’s not here, you must want to be in charge of the vineyard,” said Channing.

  “I leave all that to Julianne. This is a family business. And I’d much prefer it if my oldest friend were still here overseeing things.” James frowned at Channing. “My interest is not in running a business.”

  “No, you just like drinking the profits,” said Channing sharply.

  James’s gaze drifted to Channing’s empty wine glass. “As do you.”

  I glanced over at Flipper, who sat patiently in the corner of the room, his eyes drifting from plate to plate as he looked at the delicious food. It made sense now why he was unwell on the yacht. He must have sensed Blake’s presence and it made him feel bad. But it was unusual. It was the first time he’d ever been sick when encountering a ghost.

  “Losing Blake was the main reason I employed extra staff,” said Julianne, turning her attention to me. “Blake did the finances. I focused on the admin. I can’t do it all on my own.”

  “I said I’d be more than happy to step up,” said Marcus, who had remained quiet until now. “You only have to ask.”

  “You’re still learning the ropes,” said Julianne. “And when I read Lorna’s CV, I knew she was the woman for this job.”

  “I won’t let you down,” I said. “Your business is in safe hands with me.”

  Marcus grumbled something under his breath before stabbing at his crab with a fork.

  I’d need to be careful around Marcus. From the way he was attacking his food, he was not happy. It looked like I’d taken on the role he coveted.

  I studied him out of the corner of my eye as he demolished his crab. Just how ambitious was Marcus? Perhaps he thought, if he got rid of Blake, he’d be able to step into his shoes. It would be a great motive for murder.

  “I can’t help but feel a little guilty about what happened to Blake,” said James. “We’d been out earlier that day and had a few drinks. I left him when he said he wanted time to himself and wanted to think things through. I offered to stay with him, figure out what the problem was, but he said he had to work it out on his own.”

  “You’ve said this before,” said Julianne, irritation tracing through her words. “It was his decision to drink. Whatever dilemma he was sorting through, he didn’t want your help to do it. He wanted no one’s help.”

  A silence filled the room as everyone stared at their plates.

  Julianne grabbed her wine glass. “And like you said, my husband was adept on The Orwell. He knew his way around, even if he had been drinking.”

  “Still never figured out why he was out there so late at night,” said Channing.

  “Like James said, he had something on his mind. Something he wasn’t willing to share with his family.”

  “Didn’t the police find an overnight bag?”

  “That’s all been explained,” said Julianne. “He sometimes stayed on board so as not to disturb me if he got in late. Now, eat up everybody. The crab is getting cold.”

  “Perhaps he was entertaining on board?” James shot Channing a sly smile.

  Julianne carefully placed her knife and fork down and folded her hands into her lap. “What are you implying?”

  James shrugged. “I’m implying nothing. Simply that I know you were arguing and he needed a break.”

  “A break that involved somebody else?”

  I cringed at the sharpness in Julianne’s tone and felt Helen kick me again.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he was my husband and he was loyal.”

  “Nag a man for too long and he’ll go elsewhere for comfort,” said James.

  “I never nagged Blake.”

  “Not what I heard,” muttered James, as he finished his wine and gestured at Channing to top up his glass.

  “Then you heard wrong,” said Julianne.

  The tension in the room rose, along with my shoulders, as everybody focused on their food.

  I looked over to see if Flipper was sensing anything strange. Now I knew Blake had died in interesting circumstances, his ghost could be lurking around the house. But Flipper was still focused on the food and didn’t seem concerned about the possibility the ghost of Blake Carlisle was close by.

  And I wasn’t getting any ghostly vibes in the room, although the unpleasantly tense atmosphere could be wiping those out. Julianne kept shooting evil glares at James, who blatantly ignored her as he tucked into his food. Marcus was chewing furiously on an asparagus tip and Channing was reading the label on the back of the wine bottle.

  Julianne pushed her food around her plate a few times before dropping her fork. “After dinner, I’ll show you the views out the back of the house.” She looked over at me. “We can take our dessert there.”

  “I’ll look forward to that,” I said.

  “And I’ll bring the accounts with me,” said Julianne. “Run you through things. I’m not expecting you to do the books, but I want you to keep an eye on what’s flowing out of the business. Make sure I’m not writing checks for unnecessary expenses.”

  “I can do all of that,” said Marcus swiftly. “I’m good with money.”

  “You have other responsibilities,” said Julianne. “There are three new accounts we need to close this week. You have to focus on that.”

  “I can do both.”

  “But you don’t need to now Lorna’s here,” said Julianne. She smiled at me. “Hope you have a good head for numbers.”

  “Happy to look at the books,” I said. “I’ll make sure you spend nothing you shouldn’t.”

  I repressed a smile as there was more grumbling from Marcus. He clearly didn’t approve of being bossed around by two women. Well, tough. I was here and would do this job to the best of my abilities.

  “And Helen, I’ve been on a splurge recently,” said Julianne. “I need a few dresses tailored and have old ones that need taking in. I’ve lost weight in the last few months. Everything I wear hangs off me now.”

  Helen smiled brightly, never happier than when she was darning or tailoring outfits. “Not a problem. Just let me know what you need.”

  Julianne let out a sigh. “It’s good to have more females in the house. It was getting a bit much having all the men here. All that testosterone flying around makes things tense and claustrophobic.”

  “You’ve got Honey,” said Channing.

  “Not for much longer,” said Julianne. “Her contract ends in two months. I’ve already suggested she look for alternative employment. She worked with Blake, not me.”

  “You should give her a chance,” said Channing. “She’s a nice girl when you get to know her.”

  “I don’t want to get to know her,” said Julianne. “I never thought she was a good fit here. Blake only took her on because he felt sorry for her.”

  “And he completely ignored the fact she is stunning,” muttered James.

  “And half his age,” said Julianne. “My husband was a decent man. He wouldn’t be interested in somebody so young. It’s not appropriate.”

  I looked around and saw several pairs of raised eyebrows at this comment. Perhaps Blake was interested in Honey as more than an assistant. And if he was and Julianne found out, it would be an excellent motive for her wanting rid of her husband. Nothing worse than a woman betrayed.

  There could be more to Blake’s death than a drunken fall over the side of his yacht. And Helen seemed to think so, as well, because she kept kicking me under the table and giving me wide-eyed looks. And although Blake’s ghost wasn’t around, I wanted to learn more about this family, figure out what happened to Blake, and make sure it was nothing bad.

  Falling overboard and drowning was horrible enough, but if someone had harmed him, then I wanted to find out who and make sure they didn’t get away with it.

  Chapter 6

  Honey arrived a few moments later to clear the plates. Flipper followed her to the door, hoping to get any leftovers. He looked disappointed when she didn’t even glance at him before leaving with the dinner remains.

  “Let’s leave the men to it,” said Julianne, nodding at Helen and me.

  “That’s no fun,” said Channing, his bottom lip jutting out. “I much prefer female company.”

  “Because you’re a girl,” said James.

  “No. Because they are much more interesting than you. Although that’s never a challenge.”

  “No matter,” said Julianne, as she stood. “Tell Honey to bring our chocolate tortes to the back parlor. We can watch the sun set as we chat about business.”

  I walked alongside Julianne with Helen and Flipper. We all listened, as Julianne pointed out various family portraits.

  “That stern faced man was my great grandfather.” She slowed by a painting of a man with a hooked nose and a scowl on his face. “He started the family interest in wine making.”

  “The vineyard sounds fascinating,” said Helen. “What’s the name of the business?”

  “Firefly Vineyard,” said Julianne, as a soft smile crossed her face. “And I love going on site. I can lose myself there for hours, strolling through the vines and checking how everything is going. Took us a while to get the hang of things; neither Blake nor I had experience in vineyards or wine production, but we both wanted to give it a go.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start,” said Helen.

  “It’s not that tricky.” Julianne showed us into a cream parlor with comfortable looking sofas scattered with cushions and throws. An open fireplace dominated one wall. “You work out how many vines you need, lay out your planting, dig enough holes, set up the trellis, and keep the pests at bay. The business was established when we took over, so it’s a case of keeping on top of things and making sure the wine tastes good and people keep buying.”

  We settled on the sofas. Honey walked in a moment later with a tray of chocolate torte, plates, and dessert forks.

  “We’ll have coffee, as well.” Julianne dismissed Honey with a wave of her hand as she set to serving the torte.

  Honey turned without saying a word and stomped out of the room. I’d be cautious about drinking anything Honey served. She could lace it with something unpleasant to get revenge for being treated so coldly by Julianne.

  “Isn’t the view lovely?” Julianne scooped up a piece of torte as she gestured to the large bay window.

 

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