Page 38 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch
“You told Lehmann you wouldn’t talk to him without a lawyer. Were you serious?”
“I feel like I should be.”
“You might want to call one,” I said, as I watched Detective Lehmann come in the front door.
When she saw the detective, Melanie came out from behind the bar and walked across the tasting room and into what looked like it might be an office.
“Where’s she going?”
“To call a lawyer. Did you find Bobbie’s car?” I asked.
“We will.”
“It’s behind Dr. Blinski’s office.”
He gave me a long, unfriendly look, “Did you touch it?”
“No.” I did actually, but we’d talk about that later if we needed to. “I peeked through the windows. She was kind of a slob.”
“Her trailer was messy too.” Regretting that, he said, “I don’t like that you’re always around.”
“I’m getting paid.”
“Not by me.”
“What have you found out about her son?” I asked.
“I didn’t know she had one.”
“Apparently, he was at Main Street Café last night. They fought.”
“What’s his name?”
Crap. That would have been useful information, but I hadn’t asked Melanie. “Um, I don’t know.”
He smoldered at me for a moment, then said, “If I find out you knew his name and you didn’t tell me, you’ll be sorry.”
“There are at least three people in this room who know. Maybe we should just ask.”
Quietly, he turned around and left the winery. I suppose asking a room full of people a question about a murder investigation might not have made him look smart. I certainly wasn’t going to do it.
I went home to ask my grandmother.
Emerald wasasleep on Bev’s shoulder, while Barbara was at the sink doing the dishes. Therewasa dishwasher, but Nana Cole, and now her friends, avoided using it. Something I found confusing since it worked well enough. I used it—though I caught Nana Cole and her friends rewashing the dishes.
When I walked in, Barbara said, “We have a plate for you in the oven.”
I thanked her as I stepped out of my boots, and hung my puffer coat and scarf on a hook near the door. Riley came over and hovered nearby until I spent a bit of time scratching his ears.
“That dog needs a bath,” Nana Cole said.
“I’m well aware.” I mean, I was inches from him. He really did need a bath. “I’ll take him to the groomer in a day or two.”
“Just put him in the bathtub and scrub him down.”
I tried that. It was not a good idea.
“The groomer clips his nails.”
