Pairing a Deception

by Nadine Nettmann

  “No, I would tell you if I were.” Dean looked into my eyes. “I’m going to do everything I can to get back here for your surprise tomorrow. I wanted this weekend …” His voice fell away. “I wanted it to be quality time together, away from our routines, but work—”

  “It’s okay,” I replied, interrupting him. “I understand.”

  Dean raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

  “My father had to leave to go to cases, too. It’s part of the job.” I smiled and even though I was disappointed, I tried to hide it. “Can you at least grab lunch before you go? It’s a long drive.” I motioned to the sandwich options of roast beef au jus, herbed chicken, and roasted vegetable.

  “Yes, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Totally fine. Besides, I’ll have times when my work or studying gets in the way of plans, too.”

  “You’ll get last-minute calls about breaks in a case?”

  I shrugged. “You never know. There might be a bottle of wine that needs to be opened.”

  Dean smiled and picked up a roast beef sandwich, wrapping it in a napkin.

  “A glass of wine for the road, too?”

  His eyes grew wide.

  “I’m kidding. Hopefully everything works out and I’ll see you tomorrow. And if not, I understand.”

  “I’m really going to try.” Dean leaned in closer. “Please be safe here.”

  “It’s a wine and food festival.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Dean with a serious look on his face. “The death of Jocelyn Rivers and the way Hudson is acting. Don’t get involved in anything.”

  “Who? Me? I mind my own business.” I smiled, but I wasn’t sure it came across as sweetly as I wanted it to.

  “Two previous cases tell me otherwise.”

  “Two cases that I solved, by the way.”

  Dean’s phone buzzed again. “I have to go. If all goes well, I’ll see you tomorrow. If not, I’ll reschedule your surprise for a future date. But hopefully I’m back.” He was already in his work mode as he hugged me, and I felt a wave of sadness when he walked out of the tent, his phone at his ear.

  I glanced at the tables. Most of them were full, but I wasn’t in the mood for chatting. I grabbed a chicken sandwich and sat at an empty table. I figured more people would join me, but so far, I was alone as I ate.

  “Katie,” said a female voice behind me.

  I turned around, expecting to see a familiar face, but it was a lady in her sixties with tousled short blond hair. I was certain I hadn’t seen her before.

  “That is you,” she replied. “I have to tell you, I saw your talk on Pinot Noir this morning. You were great!”

  I smiled. “Thank you so much.”

  “No, thank you! You know, I’ve always loved Pinot, but the way you spoke about it made me love it even more.”

  Her statement lifted my mood. “That means a lot. It’s always my goal to impart a passion for wine.” I motioned to the empty chairs. “Do you want to join me?” I glanced down at her festival badge but there was no name on it.

  “No, I’m just on my way out. I already ate and have to meet my friends at the hotel.”

  I looked at her badge again. The word guest was where the name was usually printed. “I thought all the badges had names on them. Yours looks different.”

  The lady laughed. “Would you believe it? I lost it yesterday within ten minutes of getting here. I swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my neck. They had to give me a new one, but I’m just going to pretend it’s a special one since it’s nameless. Hey, are you doing another seminar today? There’s one that starts soon, right? Champagne.”

  “As of right now, no.” I didn’t want to say that it depended on further police activity with Hudson, but since he was at the lunch, everything seemed fine at the moment.

  “That’s a shame,” she said. “I want to hear you talk more about wine! Well, it was lovely meeting you.”

  “Jocie, are you coming?” said a lady the same age with two other ladies nearby. “We’re gonna be late.”

  “Wait.” I put my hand on her arm. “Your name is Jocie? As in Jocelyn? That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “Oh, is your name Jocie, too?” She looked at my badge. “No, of course not. Silly me. You’re Katie. From the seminar.”

  “Yes.” But the name similarity was too striking. It stirred inside me, like the memory of a wine label I was sure I had seen before but couldn’t quite recall.

  “I gotta go. Don’t want to hold up my friends. We’re about to get our wine on before the next seminar.”

  “Enjoy your wine.” I put out my hand. Something inside me said I should get her last name. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Jocie. Let me fully introduce myself. I’m Katie Stillwell.”

  She shook my hand. “It’s great to meet you, too. I’m Jocie Rivers.”

  thirteen

  pairing suggestion: verdejo—rueda, spain

  Often compared to Sauvignon Blanc, this white wine has citrus flavors and elevated acidity.

  I watched the real Jocie Rivers walk away as the interaction left me in a daze. It would be too much of a coincidence to have two people named Jocelyn Rivers in the area. There were only five hundred people at the festival and the name couldn’t be that common.

  Dean was already gone and I didn’t want to disturb him with a text. He would be driving and focused on the Harper case.

  I stared at the exit. Did the Jocelyn I met yesterday pick up the lost badge? If so, was that the reason she was killed? And who was she?

  I stood up, ready to follow Jocie, but I didn’t know if that was a good place to start. She would just repeat that she lost her badge. I could go to the New Sierra where Jocelyn—or perhaps not Jocelyn—said she had a room, but the front desk wouldn’t be able to look her up if I didn’t know her real name. I doubted she had registered under Jocelyn Rivers.

  I thought about going to the Lancaster to tell the authorities that their victim might have a different name, but I wouldn’t be able to give them any hints as to who she actually was. I’d made a promise to Dean not to get involved, but if I knew her real identity, I could help the police without getting too involved. The desire to find out was like the opportunity to taste a glass of expensive and highly prized wine, like a rare vintage that critics would reminisce about for years afterward.

  I scanned the tent. Hudson was busy talking to attendees, and the only other people I had seen Jocelyn with were Walt and Ben.

  I left the tent and crossed the lawn to the main lunch event. I didn’t have to look far. Walt and Ben sat at one of the picnic benches on the far side of the New Sierra.

  “Hey, it’s Rick Roll,” I said when I reached the table.

  “It never gets old,” said Walt with a laugh. “I love that my own joke can be thrown back at me.”

  “Where have you been? The other lunch?” asked Ben.

  “Yeah, sandwiches of chicken, roast beef, or roasted vegetables. Not bad.”

  “Tacos,” said Ben as he motioned to the empty plates, his hand knocking them to the ground. “Sorry.”

  I picked up the paper plates and tossed them in the nearby trash can. I motioned to the bench. “Mind if I sit for a bit?”

  “Go for it, but the lunch is done,” said Walt. “They might still be pouring, though.”

  “I’m on wine now.” Ben held up his half-empty glass.

  “Yes, Ben here had a beer with lunch. Who does that at a wine festival?”

  “It was tacos, Walt. Tacos. Beer goes with tacos. Besides, the Champagne panel is next so I’m on wine from here on out.” Ben smiled. “There’s wine at the panels,” he added.

  “Very deductive of you, Ben.”

  He smiled proudly and then pointed at me. “Why aren’t you drinking?”

  “Soon
.” I didn’t know how to ask them if they knew the real identity of Jocelyn Rivers. I wasn’t sure I could come right out and say it, so I decided to try a different tactic. “What are you both having?”

  “Chardonnay,” said Walt.

  “Grown on the sun-kissed slopes of California,” added Ben.

  “Look at you, getting all poetic about wine,” said Walt. “This festival is changing you.”

  “What do you mean, getting all poetic? I’m always poetic.”

  “True, and sometimes even correct,” said Walt.

  “This wine is from California and these slopes are sun-kissed. I am correct.”

  “You only know that because you already know what the wine is from the label.”

  “I don’t see a label in front of me.” Ben motioned to the table, which was empty except for their two wineglasses. “Do you see a label in front of me?”

  “You know what I mean. You didn’t figure it out.”

  It sounded like a reference to blind tasting, and I shifted in my seat. “What’s this about?” I asked, hoping I was right and could perhaps ease into the blind tasting in the bar with Jocelyn.

  “Apparently silver-tongued Walt here can tell me all about a wine without looking at the label, though I think he cheats.”

  “You’re quoting me incorrectly,” replied Walt. “I said I can tell a Paso Robles Zin from any other Zin.” He pointed his finger at Ben. “Start listening more.”

  “I will when you start speaking in complete sentences.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “Is that where you live? Paso?” I interrupted, hoping to direct the conversation back to wine.

  “No. I just love Paso Zin.”

  I nodded. “I’m a fan as well.” It was time to get to the point. “Hey, so remember last night, we were hanging out with Jocelyn Rivers?”

  Walt shook his head. “No talking unless you have wine in your hand. In fact, are you even at the festival if you don’t have a glass of wine? I don’t think so.”

  “I’m with Walt on this. Not good enough,” said Ben as he folded his arms across his chest.

  I took a moment to think about how I could make this work. I pointed to his glass. “What’s this Chardonnay? Besides being sun-kissed.”

  Walt looked at it and swirled. “It’s a 2015 from Sonoma. A little heavy on the oak, but I dig it.”

  “Could you tell what it was without looking at the label?” I asked. “The type of wine and the location, not about the oak.”

  “Well, I knew all about this wine from the person who poured it.” Walt laughed. “But I can tell a few, or maybe several wines, without anyone saying what they are, and not just Paso Zin. I’m pretty cool like that.”

  “You know,” I replied, “I can sometimes do that, too.”

  “Really?” Walt slammed his palm on the table. “Do I hear a challenge?” he said. He cupped his hand around his ear. “Challenge? Is that you? Are you there?”

  I suppressed a laugh. “Are you sure you want to do a challenge?” After the blind tasting session with Hudson, my confidence level had increased.

  “Why not? It’s a wine and food festival. Let’s give it a go.” Walt looked at Ben. “Get us each a glass of wine, but no cheating. It has to be the same wine.”

  “Are you buying?” asked Ben.

  “The lunch is open bar,” said Walt.

  “That’s right. Then this one’s on me.” Ben stood up.

  “Actually,” I said as the blind tasting process with my tasting group went through my mind. Once one of us said the correct answer, it would be over for the other person and they wouldn’t get a chance to properly make a deduction. They could only agree or disagree with what was already said. “Why don’t you get two different wines, two glasses of each? Are you up for a double tasting, Walt?”

  “Twice the fun,” replied Walt.

  “I can’t carry four glasses.”

  “You can take two trips, Ben. I’d help you but I can’t, because then I would know what the wine is and Katie here would accuse me of cheating.”

  “I most definitely would,” I replied.

  “Fine. But don’t talk about anything while I’m gone. I don’t want to miss the fun.”

  “We’ll be waiting.” I smiled. When he walked away, I turned to Walt. “Now that wine is on the way, do you know who Jocelyn Rivers is?”

  He thought for a second. “Was she the one in the bar with us?”

  “Yes. Do you know anything about her?”

  “She’s at the festival. That’s it.” He looked around. “Haven’t seen her today though.”

  “She passed away this morning.”

  His eyebrows went up. “Ah, so that was her. I heard someone talking about that earlier.”

  “Did you hear anything else or perhaps know more about her?”

  “I might.” He picked up a bottle cap from the end of the table and rolled it between his thumb and his forefinger on the wood.

  “What?”

  Walt flipped the bottle cap up and caught it on the back of his hand. “I might know that she talked to someone in the lobby after Ben and I left the bar.”

  “Who?”

  He flipped it again and caught it in the middle of his palm. “Why do you want to know?”

  “It’s important. I’m …” My voice fell away. I didn’t want to clue him in too much. “I’m looking into something. Was it a lady you saw?”

  Walt tilted his head sideways as he looked at me and flipped the bottle cap again. It landed on the back of his hand without him looking at it. “It might have been.”

  With every turn of the cap, I not only wanted to win at the blind tasting, I wanted Walt to be a very distant second place. “You’re dodging the question,” I replied. “It makes you seem suspicious.”

  “Me? Nah.”

  “Did you see a man or a woman?”

  “A woman. But I’m not saying anything else until wine is here.”

  I didn’t have to stew for long. Ben returned to the table with a glass of white wine in each hand followed by a waiter holding two glasses of red wine.

  “I got some help,” said Ben as he motioned to the waiter, who put the red wine down in front of each of us. “That’s wine A and I’m holding wine B.” He held up two white wines. “B is for Ben.”

  “And warming them up, I see,” said Walt as he motioned to the way Ben was holding both glasses by the bowl and not the stem.

  “Putting them down, putting them down.” Ben placed a glass to my right and then a glass next to Walt and sat down. “Who wants to go first?” He looked at us and closed his hands together like he was patiently waiting. He was our audience, ready for the show.

  “Ladies first,” said Walt.

  “I think I have an unfair advantage,” I replied.

  He peered over his sunglasses. “Oh, honey, don’t start thinking you drink more wine than me. I have the scars on my liver to prove it.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll go.” I thought about what I wanted to find out from Walt. “But let’s put some stakes on this. Make it interesting.”

  “Katie Stillwell, I like the way you think,” said Walt.

  “If I get the wine right, you tell me who you saw in the lobby and, if possible, point her out.”

  “The lobby?” said Ben, but Walt motioned for him to be quiet.

  “What if you get the wine wrong?”

  “If I’m wrong, you don’t have to tell me anything,” I replied.

  He nodded. “Okay, I like this. What about me, if I get the next wine right? What do I get?”

  I paused for a moment. “I’m pouring at Sunday’s grand tasting. I’ll make sure you get large pours instead of the one-ounce tasting we’re supposed to do.”

  “Deal! This festival just gets better an
d better,” Walt said with a laugh. “Okay, let’s start the competition.”

  I picked up the white wine. “Since you like red wine so much, I’ll go for the white wine.”

  “Very classy of you, Stillwell.”

  I looked at the glass. I might not be studying my flash cards this weekend, but I was getting a lot of experience tasting under pressure. Every glass of wine I blind tasted was a mystery I had to solve. I just hoped Walt would keep up his end of the deal.

  fourteen

  pairing suggestion: beaujolais—moulin-à-vent, france

  Beaujolais in this Cru are named after the large historic windmill in the area.

  I went through the wine grid, starting with the visual characteristics, then scent, and finally taste. I was glad Ben chose something other than a Chardonnay. It would have been too easy to do the same glass that Walt had been drinking.

  “Final conclusion, this is a Grüner Veltliner from Austria, 2016, quality excellent.”

  I put the glass down and looked at Walt and Ben for the first time since I started the blind tasting. Both of their mouths were slightly open as they stared at me.

  “Walt, buddy, you’re screwed,” said Ben.

  Walt sat up and studied his glass of wine. “No, that’s fine. I’m still going to do this.” He turned to me. “But, girl, you’re no amateur at this.”

  “I’ve had a little practice. Well, was I right?” I motioned to the glass.

  “Wait,” said Walt. “Don’t say anything. I want to taste the wine to see if I agree.” He took a drink of the wine. “It’s acidic and tart. And I totally get the pepper you did. Okay, I agree. Grüner.”

  I smiled. I wasn’t sure if Walt could have called it without me pointing it out first, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, Ben, what’s the reveal?”

  Ben glanced at us. “Well, you’re both right. It’s a Grüner Veltliner.”

  I nodded, my confidence for the exam on Tuesday continually climbing. “Well done, both of us,” I said to Walt. I pointed to the red glass of wine. “You’re up.”