Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 04 - Trash Out by Catharine Bramkamp Page B

well, I could not think of any small talk other than to compliment her on the quality of her merchandise.  I had a couple of SpongeBob Band-Aids for the cuts on her bare feet, but she rejected my offering in favor of three plain Band-Aids .
    I heard the voices of the arriving police as they secur ed the area and called complicated acronyms to one another, their voices ricocheted between the tanks and cement floors.  Noisy group.
    Cassandra padded barefoot out to the deserted tasting room. She sank down on a marb le bench - beautiful, and cold.  She shivered and I fetched a lawn chair from the patio, still warm from the sun , and drew it inside for her. And where was her wonderful Mark?  Where was O’Reilly’s assistant? Where was O’Reilly?  Some help they turned out to be.  I wasn’t surprised, but mentally berating other people kept my own hysteria at bay. I liked Fred , why was he under the cases?  There wasn’t anything unusual about them , was there?  There I go, I did not want to think that way, it was just an accident.
    Cassandra wrapped her arms under her breasts and rocked back and forth.
    “ H e’s gone , ” Ben stepped carefully into the tasting room . H is face was drawn. 
    I mouthed the name Wind Runner. He shook his head but for once I did not know what that meant.  Did we have two deaths in one awful tremor?
    “Fred is from here, he’s as local as me. His family never could get a winery off the ground so to speak.” Cassandra continued to sway back and forth .
    “I know.”  Ben placed a hand on her shoulder to stop the rocking .
    “He was thrilled to help me with my dream. It was so sweet of him , ” her tone was wistful.   Oh sure, now she liked him, the last time I watched them together, she was imperious and he, suspicious. S he bit her lip to keep from crying.
    Ben shot me a look and I shut my mouth . I was rescued from further face twitches passing as communication, by the entrance of Peter Klaussen O’ R eilly the T hird . H is footsteps were heavy on the tile floor; his face was drawn, he looked deeply troubled. 
     
    “The police determined that it was an accident.” He gl anced at Cassandra.   She nodded but contributed nothing more to the conversation.  “Everyone felt the tremor , ” h e explained. Cassandra started to rock again, she moaned softly.
    “I was worried , so I came back up , ” he finished. He held out his hands to Cassandra who only g azed right through him .
    He shrugged and took a place next to me on the marble bench.  “Chilly , ” he commented.
    “Yes, very , ” I confirmed.
    “An accident is a good thing.” Cassandra paused her rhythmic movement .  “Is n’t it? Just an accident ? ”
    “Except it may be due to negligence.”  Ben glanced at O’Reilly, who was rapidly becoming the de-facto attorney in this little drama. 
    O’Reilly waved his hand.  “No evidence, we’ll probably have to de al with the claims adjuster, OSHA, the taxes, and there is next of kin to contact.  Cassandra do you have any numbers to call? Do you know the number for your insurance agent? ”
    She shook her head.  “ We can look on his phone.”
    Except the parts of his phone not smashed to pieces were soaked in Sauvignon Blanc. Was it just bad luck for poor Fred ? And what about Trisha Gault ? I was ready to mouth it to Ben but he was completely focused on his old paramour.
    I know, I should feel sympathy for the woman, she was trying to make it on her own, trying to float a very expensive venture all by herself , so I should rally and support her in a sister s - in - business kind of way.  But I couldn’t erase her play for my fiancé . With every passing week, I felt more and more possessive towards that man .  I was not interested in sharing anymore. I wanted all the Ben sympathy for myself . 
    “ Any in reserve? ”   O’Reilly asked just as quietly as Ben.  The sisterhood may be dissolved, but I sensed a brotherhood rapidly forming.
    I