Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [27]
6
WE WERE STILL sitting on the bench when the urgent clanging of the dinner bell reverberated through the valley. I didn’t think anything about it, assuming Cappy was calling everyone back up to the house for dessert, until Bliss jumped up, her face twisted with panic.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Without answering, she took off running up the gravel road toward the house.
I caught up with her, my heart pounding, and asked again, “Bliss, what’s going on?”
“She only rings the bell in an emergency. I know a shortcut through the fields.” She took off running through the rows of grapes. I followed her, keeping my eyes on her blonde hair bobbing through the lush green vines. Prickly branches caught at my silk blouse, snagging it in places that would irritate me later, but at that moment my only mission was to keep up with Bliss.
My side felt splintered when we reached the front porch. Bliss dashed in ahead of me, calling out for Cappy. Her grandmother appeared, followed by Etta and Willow from behind the closed doors of the living room we’d occupied a few hours before. She closed the doors behind her and said calmly to me, “You’d better find your husband.”
Her serious tone caused Bliss and me to glance at each other in apprehension.
“Why?” I asked.
“There’s been an accident.”
“Who?” Bliss asked.
Her grandmother’s face was sober. “It’s Giles. He’s dead.”
Before she could elaborate, we heard a mixture of voices out on the porch—Gabe, Dove, Lydia, Sam, Daddy. They were laughing at something, obviously unaware of the dinner bell’s ominous purpose. They entered the hallway, and Gabe’s smiling face turned instantly serious when he saw us.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Sam went over to Bliss, who was standing motionless as a trapped fawn, her hand grasping her side as if searching for the weapon that wasn’t there.
“It’s my grandson-in-law, Giles,” Willow said. “We need to find my granddaughter, Arcadia, and—”
“She was down at the tasting room with us,” Dove said. “Until about a half hour ago. She said she was coming back up to the house.”
Cappy’s face looked troubled. “Gabe, you’d better handle this.” She opened the door, and Gabe entered the room. We all pushed forward, stopping only when Gabe commanded us to stay where we were.
Lying on the floor in front of the fireplace was Giles in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. A .38 revolver lay a small distance from his body. He lay on his back, the gun above his outstretched hand, as if he were reaching for it. The entry point of the bullet could barely be seen, but I knew the force of a .38 bullet. If we turned him over, half his back would be splayed open, his insides a tangled mess. Gabe bent down and pressed his fingers to Giles’s neck. I watched my husband’s face, trying to gauge by his reaction whether Giles was actually dead. Behind us we heard Susa’s soft exclamation.
“Let me by,” she said. “He might be alive.” She pushed past us and ran over to Giles. She kneeled down next to him, her eyes rapidly surveying his chest wound.
“He’s dead,” Gabe said quietly, pulling his hand back and standing up.
She ignored his words and gently pressed her fingers in the same spot Gabe had. Moments later, she said in a choked voice, “Oh, no.”
Gabe looked over at Cappy. “Where’s the nearest phone besides this one?” He nodded at the phone on a side table.
“My study,” she said, pointing down the hall. “Last door on your right.”
He looked over at the rest of us, which now included Chase, Jose, and Jose’s son, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere. “I need all of you to go out on the front porch and stay there.” He walked over to me and said in a low voice, “Benni, I left my cell phone in the car. Go into Cappy’s study and call nine-one-one. I don’t want to leave the scene.”
Arcadia picked that moment to walk up to the crowd. Her soprano voice rang out. “I was upstairs powdering my nose when I thought I heard the dinner bell. What’s going on?” When she moved around the crowd and saw Giles lying on the blood-soaked carpet, a strangled