Dead on the Vine: (Violet Vineyard Murder Mysteries #1 (A Cozy Mystery)) by JM Harvey Page B

lawyers to ruin your digestion. Every move we make is a violation of someone’s civil rights. County’s hired a team of lawyers to watch over the department. Waste of money, if you ask me. People will sue no matter what I do.” Ben sighed, and looked back at the door to Bistral, but made no move toward departure.
    “You don’t sound too happy in your work, Ben.”
    “Ha! That’s an understatement. I’m not running for reelection. Maybe I’ll start making wine, give you some competition.”
    “I’ve got enough of that already. But it’s an idea. It’s never too late to change careers.” I was happy to have left the subject of Kevin’s murder behind, and I was enjoying my conversation with Ben. Maybe I was enjoying it a little too much, I thought suddenly. Ben was an attractive man, despite the slight paunch above his belt, with a physical presence that inspired trust mixed with a little boy quality that was endearing. But I’m afraid I was feeling something more than trust and friendship. I was sure he would make some woman a very happy wife when he was ready, but it wouldn't be me. After all, I was a married woman, sort of, and though Roger made a hobby out of cheating on me, I had never broken my vows to him, though I confess I don’t really know why. I guess I had submerged that part of myself in my work, but Ben had me wondering if that was such a good idea.
    “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ben said reluctantly. “How about a cup of coffee sometime? I mean socially, not as the sheriff or anything. Just friends, you know,” he stammered around, sounding as out of practice as I felt. God, it was charming! And flattering.
    I blushed. His asking me out, even just for coffee, reminded me of high school, and a younger more vibrant part of my life. And the way he was looking at me and blushing led me to believe he felt the same way. A pair of middle aged folks nervous as school kids. I almost laughed.
    “I’d like that,” I replied, my own voice a little quivery. “Maybe lunch?”
    “That’s even better. I’ll be looking forward to it. See you, Claire,” he gave me a wave and walked down the sidewalk toward Bistral, dodging a young woman pushing a two-seater stroller occupied by twin baby girls.
    “Have fun!” I called after him, and he waved again.
    It was only when I sat in the car that I allowed myself the satisfied smile every woman wears after being asked out by an attractive man. I was definitely looking forward to lunch and to hell with Roger.

CHAPTER 10
     
     
    When I arrived back at Violet, I was relieved to see the glazier from San Francisco on a stepladder measuring the gap where my picture window used to be. I parked on the gravel beside his truck and walked over. By then he was picking broken glass out of the frame, dropping the shards into a plastic bucket. He was wearing thick black gloves and a blue uniform, the pants drooping to reveal an unflattering view of his hairy derrière. I said hello and he flicked me a glance, grunted and nodded. He was old, dried up and skinny as a starved dog. He went back to wiggling a ragged bayonet of glass free from the frame without speaking. I asked him when he’d be finished and he grudgingly told me the window would be replaced that day then reminded me that he needed a check. Everyone wants a check and so few want to give you a check. Bleakly pondering my checking account’s downward spiral, I left him to his work and went around the crush pad and down slope to the back yard.
    Victor had a crew of six working that day. They were sitting under the almond trees drinking soda and eating pizza from cardboard boxes spread on the grass. Victor got up as I approached, wiping his hands on his jeans. I said hello and nodded at the men.
    “How’s it going?” I asked Victor, stepping into the shade and bending down to grab a piece of pepperoni pizza. I know, I had already had lunch, but it smelled too good. Besides, with all the physical