I barely made it to the lock when two gloved hands slipped around my neck. They squeezed, taking my breath with them. I pulled at the arms of my attacker as my phone fell to the floor, the light illuminating the doorframe.
“I know what you’re up to,” said a gravelly voice as the grip tightened. I wasn’t sure if the disguised voice was male or female, but my strength was no match against theirs. I clawed at the hands but the gloves made my efforts unsuccessful.
I needed air.
“If you mess this up for me,” they continued, “I swear I’ll kill you.” The hands pushed me down as they released and I fell to the floor, gasping for breath. I glanced up, only to see the end of a dark coat rounding the lit corner.
I scrambled to grab the key from the floor. My fingers located the cold metal and I jammed it into the lock, pushing the door open and slamming it behind me. I took huge gulps of air as I tried to catch my breath before I moved into the bathroom to look at my neck. The results of the attack were bright red lines that would most definitely turn into bruises by morning.
The door to the room opened and I jumped back, my hands up in fighting position.
“Katie?” asked Dean. “Your phone was in the hallway.” He noticed my stance. “What’s going on?”
I glanced in the mirror again, my adrenaline level lowering along with my fists. “See these?” I pointed to the marks.
“What happened?” Dean rushed over.
“Someone attacked me,” I replied. “In the hallway just now. Tried to choke me.” I rubbed my skin. “I’m fine,” I quickly added. “But it was another warning.”
Dean looked at my neck. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“We should get you checked out to make sure there’s no serious injuries.”
“Dean, I’m fine.” I stared into his eyes. “Honest. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
He nodded but his face was still strained with concern. “I didn’t see anyone when I came up. Did you notice any identifying characteristics?”
“No,” I said as I took a deep breath. “But I think it was Isabella. She warned me not to mess things up for her. Hudson’s making another announcement about Tama tomorrow.” I looked in the mirror. “I just had no idea she was this strong. Those long sleeves she wears must hide serious muscles. Maybe I need to start cross training instead of just running.” I lifted my arm up in a faux flex.
“Not funny,” said Dean.
“I agree. But it definitely gives me something to work on.” I paused. “Maybe that’s how she knew Rachel. She worked out at her fitness center.” I looked at Dean. “What was the message at the front desk about anyway?”
“Nothing. A note about a schedule change on the Pinot Noir seminar.”
“The one that happened yesterday? Nice. So they wanted to get you away from me. As if I couldn’t fight them on my own.”
Dean took out his phone. “I’m calling the police. This has gone too far.”
“But Hudson still won’t talk to them.”
“No, but I need to keep you safe.”
“And we don’t have proof that Isabella did anything wrong. Even tonight. They’ll interview her, she’ll deny everything, and get away.”
“But it’ll be up to the local authorities. I’ll tell them what we know and they’ll take it from there.” Dean looked at me with a softness in his eyes. “I don’t think you should be at the festival tomorrow. We’ll drive back early in the morning. You’re being threatened. I can’t have something happen to you.”
“I have a responsibility to pour at the event and I feel fine. It was just a warning. No permanent damage.” I put my hands on my hips. “Besides, I wasn’t raised as a cop’s daughter to shy away from a threat like that. They want to find me? Come and get me.”
“Katie,” Dean sighed. “I adore you, but sometimes you’re a little stubborn.”
“You could just say I’m focused.”
“Okay, you’re focused. Very focused. But I’m serious, you need to be careful tomorrow.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Yes, but I know you, and you also have a habit of getting yourself into trouble.”
I smiled and pretended to shine the imaginary halo around my head. “I’ll just be pouring at the event.”
thirty-three
pairing suggestion: bandol—provence, france
A Mourvèdre-based red wine that is bold and dark.
Unlike the opening ceremonies, the tent for the grand tasting only had three sides so attendees could wander in and out of the open side and stand at round high top tables on a small section of fenced-in lawn. Two guitar players played on a stage in the corner, their acoustic covers of popular songs filling the area.
I wore a high-collared blouse, along with a few brushes of foundation, to hide the bruises on my neck, and my purple Certified pin adorned the lapel of my jacket. If all went well with the test in two days, it might be one of the last times I would wear it. I hadn’t studied as much as I should have over the weekend, but I definitely practiced blind tasting under pressure.
“Ms. Stillwell, I’m glad you could make it today,” said Mr. Tinsley as he stood at the opening to the fence and the only way to get into the tent. He had been briefed on the situation by Dean and knew about the attack.
“Yes, I’m here and ready.” I also knew that local law enforcement were waiting with Dean outside the New Sierra, per Mr. Tinsley’s request, to take Isabella in for questioning once the festival was over. There still wasn’t any proof she had done anything wrong and the Lancaster lacked hallway cameras to catch evidence of the assault.
“Perfect,” said Mr. Tinsley. “Your position is at the sparkling and white wine section.”
I went to the center of the tent, where tables formed a large empty square so attendees could walk around the outside and see the selection of wines while the pourers stood inside.
Darius, a member of my tasting group and a fellow Trentino employee, gave me a nod as he entered the tent.
“You made it,” I said as he arrived at the pouring station and took his place next to me.
“Yeah, drove down this morning.” He looked around. “I have tomorrow off so I’m gonna visit friends. You?”
“I have the whole week off. Flying to Arizona.”
“That’s right, the test. Good luck with that.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
The partition was released and the crowd flowed into the tent. It would be the biggest event of the weekend, with many locals and visitors purchasing a single-day pass.
We quickly went through a bottle of the sparkling Rosé and I opened a new one, twisting the cork off without a sound.
“Oh, it’s flat,” said the attendee in front of me. “There was no pop.”
“It’s not flat, it’s just a trick to open it. It also keeps the wine from fizzing up and spilling.”
She raised her eyebrows and stared at me, clearly still skeptical.
“Here, give me your glass. You’ll see.”
She held it out and I poured the wine. “There’s bubbles!” she exclaimed. “So wait, how did you do that?”
“You twist the cork as you’re opening it. It keeps the sound to a whisper, but it takes a lot of practice, or at least it did for me.” It was part of the Certified Sommelier Exam, to open the bottle without a sound.
She nodded, her glass already empty. She moved it toward me.
“Okay, which one would you like to try now?”
“That Champagne.” She pointed to a bottle from Napa.
I poured it into her glass. “This is Napa Sparkling Wine made from all white grapes.”
“Thanks,” she said as she took a sip. “I just love Champagne.”
I was about to explain what classifies Champagne, but she was
already gone, either off to get food or to meet her friends.
“My favorite wine buddy,” said Walt as he stepped toward the table and held out his glass. “I believe we have a previous arrangement.”
“Which wine would you like?” I motioned to the bottles in front of me.
“All of them,” replied Walt.
I picked up one from the tub of ice. “This is the 2015 Pinot Gris from Oregon with flavors of peach and lemon,” I said as I poured him an ounce.
He looked at the level of the wine and back at me. “I don’t think that was part of our deal, buddy.”
“I won the blind tasting fair and square but keep coming back and I’ll give you more wine. However”—I paused as I took the same bottle and added an additional ounce to his glass—“there you go.”
Ben stepped up to the table. “I’d like two pours as well please.” He pointed to another bottle. “Of that one.”
I poured an ounce.
“What about the second one?”
“Challenge me to a blind tasting and maybe you’ll get a second pour.”
“I can’t do that stuff,” grumbled Ben as he walked away.
I glanced around the tent. There was Isabella. She looked as nervous as ever, fidgeting with restless motions as she sat at a side table. Though I knew it was all an act. She wasn’t really nervous. She was a killer and she was strong.
When the grand tasting slowed down, I was able to leave my post and wander around while Darius covered for me. Dean stood at a high top table in the corner.
“I thought you would be outside.”
“I’m trying my best not to let you out of my sight. I want you to be safe.”
My eyes drifted to the small plates of food that covered his table. “What’s this?” All of them were untouched.
“Nearly every dish they’re serving at the booths. I figured you wouldn’t have a chance to get around to all of them during your break, so I did it for you.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I try. Sorry some of them are cold.”
“Thanks.” I picked up the first plate but kept an eye on Isabella. “I should have done something last night.”
“What could you have done?”
“I don’t know, but what if she leaves? She knows we’re onto her. That’s why she attacked me.”
“She’s still here. The officers will take her in for questioning after the event.”
“And charge her with nothing. I’m guessing she’ll leave after Hudson’s announcement.” I finished a tempura shrimp and tried a braised beef taco. When I looked again, Isabella was no longer at her table. “Where did she go?”
Dean looked over my shoulder. “On the far side of the tent with Walt and Ben.”
“Perfect.” I wiped my hands on a napkin. “I’m going to go say hi.”
“Katie …”
“What? I’ll be safe.” I shined my imaginary halo. “You can come.”
Dean gave me a stern look. “Don’t leave the tent.”
I pointed to my pin. “I won’t. I’m working.”
Dean stayed at the table as I approached Isabella, Walt, and Ben. My lungs constricted and I tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness remained. I had no idea what I was going to say and the bruises on my neck almost seemed to radiate pain as I got closer.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey,” said Walt and Ben in unison.
“Aren’t you supposed to be pouring? I don’t think I’m done drinking,” added Walt.
“Just on a quick break.” I glanced at the three of them as an idea came to my mind. Maybe I could get Isabella to do something that would incriminate her. “So you guys, this is on the DL, but I heard they’re about to arrest someone for the murder of Rachel Carlson.”
Isabella jumped and Ben shuddered.
“Wait, who is Rachel Carlson?” asked Walt.
“The festival attendee who was murdered.”
“I thought her name was Jocelyn,” said Ben.
“No, it was always Rachel Carlson. She stole Jocelyn Rivers’s badge.”
“I hate all this talk about murder,” said Isabella. “How can people be so evil?”
I stared at her. “I totally agree.”
“So Jocelyn Rivers was Rachel Carlson,” said Ben. “Rachel Carlson was Jocelyn Rivers. Jocelyn Rivers—”
“We get it, Ben,” interrupted Walt.
“Yeah,” I continued. “They found the evidence they needed and they’re going to make an arrest.”
Isabella rubbed her arms. “Can we talk about something else? This subject gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“What did I miss?” asked Anita as she joined the group.
“They’re about to arrest someone for the murder of Rachel Carlson,” said Walt.
“Who is also Jocelyn Rivers,” added Ben.
“Are they arresting Hudson?” asked Anita.
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “So, what’s everyone drinking?”
“Wine,” Walt and Ben replied in unison.
“I have Cabernet Franc,” said Anita as she moved back and forth to the music. “Actually, let me be more cool when I say it.” She held up her glass. “A Cab Franc.”
“I want one of those,” said Ben.
“You still won’t be able to dance,” replied Walt.
Isabella continued to rub her arms.
I glanced at my watch, even though time wasn’t an issue for me. “Oops, I have to get back to my station. Let me know if you want another drink.” I stepped away and left the four of them to talk. Hopefully the seed I planted was enough for Isabella to make a mistake.
I stopped by Dean’s table. “Keep an eye on her and Hudson.”
“What did you do?”
I shrugged. “I said an arrest was imminent. If I were her, I’d ditch the evidence or something.”
“Katie,” said Dean.
“I know, but it might work,” I replied.
“Thank you again for coming to the Harvest Days Wine and Food Festival,” said Hudson from the middle of the tent, a microphone in his hand.
“Gotta go,” I whispered to Dean. “It’s show time.”
I returned to the pouring station as Hudson continued. “It’s been a fantastic weekend, don’t you agree?”
The crowd roared in approval.
“We only have a few more hours left, so make sure to enjoy every minute. I also wanted to add,” he said as he glanced around the tent and paused awkwardly when his gaze landed on Isabella, “that I’m pleased to add a partnership with Tama Winery to my ever-growing resume.” He raised his glass of red wine. “So let’s all eat, drink, and be merry!”
The crowd cheered and activity resumed in the tent.
I looked at Dean and nodded. He headed to the exit, most likely to meet up with the officers on the lawn.
“There’s only a few more days till your test,” said Darius.
“Yep.”
“Are you studying while you’re here?”
“Not as much as I would like. I have that flash card app on my phone.”
“Which one? I want to see if it’s different from mine.”
I handed him my phone as I watched Walt, Ben, Anita, and Isabella on the far side of the tent. Walt and Ben moved to a line at a food booth, but Isabella stood near Anita as she continued dancing.
“I’d like to try that one,” said a guest, pointing to a bottle of Viognier.
“Of course.” I poured an ounce into the glass and looked back at the group across the tent. Anita was still there, but Isabella had disappeared. I glanced around for Hudson. He was gone, too.
thirty-four
pairing suggestion: petit verdot —napa valley, california
A thick-skinned grape primarily used for blending,
but also produced as a single varietal.
I looked around the tent in case Isabella had moved to a table or went to get more food, but I couldn’t see her. The officers expected Isabella to leave through the main exit by the New Sierra so they would catch her on the way out and ask her questions, but the seam of the tent was pulled open near where she had been standing. Unless the officers had surrounded the entire area—and I was pretty certain they hadn’t gone to that extreme since there was still no proof she had done anything—they would miss her. My other concern was Hudson. Was she following him somewhere? Now that the announcement was done, would she kill him, too?
“Darius, can you cover for me again?”
“What about my break?”
“Sorry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Darius pointed at me. “I’m not getting paid for this and now I don’t even get a chance to look at the food options? You owe me.”
“Yes, yes, a bottle of Oban. I know,” I replied, referencing his favorite Scotch and one I had bought him before when he covered shifts for me at Trentino.
A sly grin spread across his face. “Cool. Now hurry up, so at least I can eat.”
I crossed the tent, dodging people as I walked, and made it through the open seam. Isabella was nearly to the entrance of the Lancaster. Her room was at the New Sierra, so she was either leaving or following Hudson. I looked behind me but saw only festival goers nearby. There wasn’t time to get Dean or the officers near the New Sierra. She would be out of sight within seconds. I followed her, staying far enough behind to not look suspicious.
Isabella entered the hotel, stopped at the front desk for a moment, and looked around. I tried to duck behind a potted plant but ended up smacking my leg on the coffee table by the lobby couches.
I dropped to the floor behind a couch and rubbed my shin, hoping that she didn’t see me as I tried to smooth out the pain. I reached for my pocket to text Dean what was happening but came up empty. My phone was back with Darius at the event. I peeked my head over the top of the couch. I could just see the back of Isabella’s brown curls as she entered the elevator. I stood up and avoided the coffee table as I scurried across the lobby. I knew I was drawing attention to myself and people were looking, but I didn’t want to lose her.
Pairing a Deception Page 17