Just after seven that evening, I opened my door to Greg holding a large pizza box and a bottle of wine. “Surprise.”
I stepped back so he could enter, then closed the door behind him. “What’s up? We don’t usually have dinner together on Tuesday.”
He set the wine bottle on my table, then pulled a DVD out of his coat pocket. “It’s impromptu dinner and a movie night.” He tossed the movie to me. “Put this in the player while I finish prep on our dinner.”
I walked over to the television and looked at the cover. “This is a war movie,” I called into the kitchen.
“I didn’t say it was impromptu dinner and a chick flick movie night. I felt bad about cutting our date short last night, but I didn’t feel that bad.” Greg brought the wine and two glasses out to the living room. He uncorked the wine and poured it. “You don’t have to let Riesling breathe, right?”
I shrugged, taking my glass. “I have no clue. Maybe we should take another jaunt to Napa Valley this weekend and ask?”
“Sounds like a plan. We haven’t been out of town since our Mexico trip.” He settled in next to me, grabbed the remote, and started the movie. He looked at me and patted his chest. “Let’s relax a bit before we dive in to that pizza.”
I glanced toward the kitchen. “Is Emma outside?”
“Of course,” Greg said. “If she wasn’t, we wouldn’t have a pizza by now.”
My dog did love her pizza. We let her eat the crusts. I curled up next to him and took a sip of wine before relaxing into his arms. “This is nice.”
“Even with the war movie?” Greg kissed the top of my head.
“Yep, even with the subject matter.”
His phone rang and I pulled myself upright, pausing the movie credits. I took another sip of my wine. Emma was probably looking at getting more than crusts tonight.
Greg checked the display and then answered. “What’s up, Toby?”
He listened for a while, then set his wineglass on the coffee table. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“Movie night cancelled or delayed?” I still held out hope that we might be cuddled back on the couch sooner than later.
He kissed me. “Cancelled. Some beachcomber found a body.”
“A dead body?” I followed him to the door. “Is it a local?”
“Toby didn’t say.” He stood at the door. “Sorry for leaving two nights in a row. And about this weekend . . .”
I nodded. “Cancelled, too.”
I said a quick prayer that the body wasn’t someone I knew and went into the kitchen to share my pizza with Emma.
CHAPTER 4
The first customer Wednesday morning broke the news. Darla Taylor, owner of South Cove Winery and promotion queen, waddled into the shop and climbed up at the counter. “Hon, get me a large mocha and a piece of that chocolate marble cheesecake. You know I love Sadie’s cheesecakes.”
“I’m glad, but aren’t you on a diet?” Darla had been dieting and working out with her boyfriend, Matt, for the last year.
“It’s my cheat day. I’m taking full advantage of it this week. Matt about killed me on our run yesterday.” She dug into the treat as I started her mocha. “So, what does Greg say about Kacey Austin’s death?”
My hand slipped off the foaming attachment. “What? Kacey’s dead?”
Darla shook her head. “I knew it was a waste of time to come here. You never have the gossip.” As lead reporter for the small town paper, Darla typically came to me to weasel out information Greg wouldn’t release. Unfortunately, most of the time, Greg hadn’t told me what Darla wanted to know.
“All Greg said was that someone was dead on the beach.” I resumed my foaming. “Are you sure it was Kacey?”
“Dustin Austin drove to Bakerstown to meet up with Doc Ames late last night to identify the body. He told Mabel at the funeral home that she’d gone for an evening walk and didn’t come home.”
Strange, since she and Austin had taken a beach walk earlier that day, but maybe that was how she stayed skinny. I knew she was obsessed with losing weight, so it could be true. I finished making Darla’s mocha and warmed up my own cup of coffee. Since it was just the two of us, I came around and sat next to Darla. “That’s so sad. I mean, I didn’t like what Austin did to Sadie, but Kacey was really nice. At least the times I met her.”
“So you don’t know if she died of natural causes or not?” Darla pressed. “I tried calling Doc Ames this morning, but he’s going all ‘open investigation’ on me.”
I glanced at the clock. “It’s only seven. Maybe he doesn’t know yet?”