G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,52
cut it,” said Henry, nudging us aside as he maneuvered around us. “Let me trot over there so you can experience the whole package.”
It was at that moment that I noticed Jake standing at the top of the stairs. I didn’t know how long he’d been there, or how much he’d heard, but he was there now, and he wasn’t smiling.
Nope. This wasn’t good at all.
Chapter 12
“You’ll notice that this vineyard has no system of irrigation,” our winery expert pointed out as we gathered at the edge of a field of ripening grapes. Wire trellises, thick, gnarly vines, and black soil stretched for acres before us, as impressive as any Iowa cornfield. “Australia is the driest continent on earth, and South Australia, where the Barossa is located, is the driest state in Australia, so we dry-grow our grapes. This means that in order to find water, the vines must push their roots deep into the earth. This produces fruit of superior quality, with dipth, color, and flavor that you often find missing with irrigated vines.”
I was hanging out at the back of the group, where I could observe Jake Silverthorn without being too obvious. He’d been eerily quiet with Lola after the incident at the dam, but I could see anger simmering in his eyes and knew his sullenness could explode into violence at any moment. I had to be on high alert to herd my group in the opposite direction if he finally did pop. Jake probably wouldn’t take kindly to the group’s newfound enthusiasm for picture taking, especially if they took close-ups of him slapping his wife around, or breaking a camera over someone’s head. Guys like Jake didn’t appreciate the concept of the Kodak moment.
“These vines were planted in the early eighteen-forties and are still growing on roots that came from European and South African vines. This gives the Barossa the distinction of being home to some of the oldest Shiraz, Grenache, and Mourvedre vines in the world. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the oldest vine in the vineyard.”
“Excuse me, Emily.” Ellie Carver worried her bottom lip as she glanced at a group of sheds whose stucco-and-stone walls had the look of candied fruit poking through the buttercream frosting on a Christmas stollen. “Connie’s back there, poking through the old equipment, so you mustn’t let on that I’ve spoken to you. He’d be cross if he thought I went behind his back, but you look like a savvy traveler, and I need to know. If Connie were to make changes to our return tickets home, would we have to pay a penalty or fee?”
“More than likely. Airlines usually make you pay through the nose if you alter your plans, especially for overseas flights.”
“Oh, dear. I was afraid of that.”
Warning bells jangled in my head. “I hope he’s not thinking of leaving the tour early, Ellie.” Like, before the police arrived. “We have a lot of continent left to see.”
“It’s worse than that. He wants to stay longer. I heard him making inquiries over the phone this morning. He told me it won’t cost us anything to change the tickets, but I don’t believe him. How can we afford to stay longer when every credit card we own is maxed out? I’ll tell you one thing, he’d better not ask the children to foot the bill.” Her voice trembled as she fought back tears. “Why is he lying? What is he so afraid to tell me?”
I could come up with a theory, but I didn’t think she’d want to hear it. “Has he told you why he wants to extend your trip?”
“He said he didn’t want to tell me because it would spoil the surprise, but he’ll be the one who’ll be surprised if the bill collectors come knocking on the door for lack of payment.” Her jaw locked with granite hardness. “After all I’ve done to pay our bills on time for the last fifty years, if he ruins my credit rating, I’ll leave him!”
“Um, I’m no expert on marriage, Ellie, but wouldn’t it be a good idea if you and Conrad talked about your financial concerns before you walked out the door?”
“Talk?” She regarded me quizzically. “Connie and I don’t talk, Emily, at least not about anything important. How do you think we’ve managed to stay married all these years? Do you want to know the secret of a successful marriage?” She tapped my forearm with her forefinger. “Never discuss critical issues. It makes