Vineyard Stalker by Philip R. Craig

he puts on every year? But you’re right. He is a blah. You have a tendency to attach yourself to blahs, my dear. I hope that Roland Nunes isn’t another one. You should raise your sights.”
    â€œI raised them to Mr. Jackson here, and it did me no good at all.”
    â€œHow well do you know Roland Nunes?” I asked her.
    She pouted. “Not as well as he’d like.”
    â€œHave you ever heard him mention any enemies?”
    Her eyes brightened. “Enemies? That sounds interesting. Does Roland have enemies? Oh, you must be talking about those vandals Mother mentioned when I came in. Has Roland been vandalized? He’s never mentioned it. Tell me all about it!”
    I told her what I’d seen and done.
    â€œMy goodness,” she said. “So you were shot? I think you’re the first person I’ve ever known who’s been shot. Does it still hurt?”
    â€œNo. Real bullets hurt a lot more a lot longer. Has Roland ever mentioned any enemies?”
    â€œNo. Have you been shot by real bullets? How exciting!” Her eyes were actually shining.
    â€œThere’s nothing exciting about being shot,” I said. “Can you think of anyone who might be behind this vandalism?”
    Melissa cocked her head in a thoughtful pose and then looked at her mother. “Well, there’s Mommy, of course. She’d like to have Roland’s land. Isn’t that right, Mother?”

8
    â€œMy daughter has more than one bad habit, as you see,” said Babs Carson. “She not only covets her neighbor’s manservant and maidservant, she doesn’t honor her parents, either. I doubt if she has many commandments left to break. I really should throw her out of the house, for the sake of the family image.”
    â€œOh, Mother, you don’t care a whit about the family image,” said Melissa. She looked at me. “Mother is an artist and you know how artists are. They just don’t give a damn about propriety.”
    â€œNeither do some mathematicians,” said Babs cheerfully.
    â€œYou should spend less time on my romances and more on your own, Mother,” replied her daughter. “Rob Chadwick has been eyeing you ever since Joanna left him for that slimy prince of hers. Now that she’s gone with half of Rob’s money, he’d love to climb into your bed. And why not? You know you like him. The two of you could have a splendid golden years affair. Or you could even get married.”
    â€œThen you could marry Roland and we could combine the three properties and have a genuine estate. How splendid.”
    Melissa smiled. “What an excellent plan! Maybe I will marry him. I’ll give the idea some real thought. Maybe I’m already weakening.” She gave me a girlish smile. “We ladies can be so indecisive sometimes.”
    â€œI take it you’re talking about the Robert Chadwick who owns the land on the other side of Roland Nunes’s place,” I said. “Has he been trying to buy Nunes’s land, too?”
    â€œI wouldn’t know,” said Babs.
    â€œOf course he has,” said Melissa. “And he has even more money than we have. Or at least he did before Joanna got half of it. Tell me, Mother, do you suppose Rob hired those men who shot Mr. Jackson? Come to think of it, did you?”
    â€œHow sharper than a serpent’s tooth,” said Babs. “No, dear, I didn’t hire anyone to vandalize Mr. Nunes’s property and I’m certain Rob Chadwick didn’t either. In fact, you’re the only person I know who might hire a thug to do that sort of dirty work. You didn’t try to poison Roland’s cat, did you, darling?”
    â€œWhy, Mother! How could you think such a thing? I might pluck a man’s eyes out, but I’d never harm his cat! You’ve hurt my feelings.”
    â€œPoor baby. Well, Mr. Jackson, have we entertained you enough for one morning?”
    I