Jim looked up from his desk which was strewn with paperwork, candy wrappers, and empty soda cans. Angela often wondered how Jim worked in all that mess, but he assured her there was a method to his desktop filing system. No one was allowed to remove anything from his desk, even the people who cleaned the offices.
“Angela, with you on top of things, I think the one thing Signor Moretti doesn’t worry about is what’s happening at the Moretti Winery. Too bad his wife doesn’t feel the same way.”
“What do you mean? Has she said something about me?” Angela asked as she stood up from the file cabinet where she’d been crouched down. “I’ve always had a feeling she didn’t like me for some reason, but I don’t know why,” she said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “On the other hand, he seems very happy with my work.”
“I don’t think it has anything to do with your work,” Jim said, adjusting his glasses. “I think it has to do with you. I’ve noticed she’s uncomfortable any time there’s another woman around who’s attractive, and fortunately, or unfortunately, you fall into that category. It doesn’t help that I’ve heard him tell his wife a number of times how lucky they are to have you. When a woman’s concerned that her husband might look outside the marriage for enjoyment, that’s the one thing she doesn’t want to hear.”
“Jim, that’s ridiculous. You know that.”
Jim leaned back, and his chair creaked. “That I do, but I don’t think Signora Moretti is convinced. Believe me, Angela, it’s nothing you’ve done. She just happens to be the owner of the biggest inferiority complex I’ve ever seen.”
Angela shrugged. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s her problem. I’m totally committed to Matteo,” she said as she again bent over the file drawer. She didn’t see Jim roll his eyes in a time-old gesture as he cast his eyes on her very desirable figure. “Okay, I found what I need.” She straightened up, holding a buff-colored folder in her hands. “I’m almost finished for today. Time to go home, get a pot of minestrone going, check the wine vats one last time, and settle in for the night. See you tomorrow.”
“Have a good evening, Angela. As hard as you work around here, you deserve it.” Jim’s gaze lingered on Angela’s shapely form as she left the room.
CHAPTER 4
Angela walked into her house and was immediately greeted by Foxie, who was beside herself with joy. Like many dogs who seem to be afraid their owner will never return when the owner leaves the house, Foxie was thrilled when Angela returned from wherever she had gone. She danced around, jumped up and down, and ran circles around Angela, while at the same time she gleefully barked and yipped.
“Hey, you crazy little girl,” Angela said, laughing, and happy with the warm welcome. She patted Foxie on the head and went into the kitchen to make a big pot of minestrone soup. The nights had turned cool in the valley and warm soup with a salad and bread which had been generously dusted with Italian herbs sounded perfect. Matteo wasn’t home yet, but she wasn’t surprised. He often stayed and had a glass of wine with Signor Romano when they were finished with work for the day.
After the soup and salad had been made, she hummed to herself as she set the table, putting fresh candles on the table, hoping that Matteo’s mood was better than it had been when he’d left that morning. She glanced at her watch and realized it was time for her to take the evening samples from the wine vats.
Angela knew she was one of the few, if not the only, winemaker in the valley who tested each vat every evening by tasting a miniscule amount of the wine contained in it. When she’d first started working as the winemaker at the Moretti Winery, she did it to make sure the wine was progressing as it should be, with balanced acidity and sugar levels – and just the right amount of fruitiness. Now she thought it would be bad luck to discontinue the practice.
Angela turned to make sure that everything was in place for dinner in case Matteo came back while she was gone. He liked things a certain way, and she didn’t want to do anything to anger him any further, after the argument they’d had that morning.
“Ready, Foxie? Time for our nightly walk over to the vat barn.” Foxie may not have known many words, but walk was definitely one that propelled her small body into a state of ecstasy. Just the thought of another walk with her mistress was cause for running over to where her leash was kept, accompanied by a small joyful bark.
The two of them walked in the early evening darkness the short distance to the building where the vats were located. The vineyard was silent with the only sound being faint strains of music coming from one of the nearby residences. As usual, Angela secured Foxie’s leash to a post before she unlocked the heavy double doors, closing them partially behind her after she entered. She knew tying Foxie up was probably unnecessary, since shedding dog hair had never been a problem with her, but even so, Angela wanted to make sure that no stray dog hairs landed in any of the wine vats during the brief time she opened the containment lids and took her nightly sips.
She walked up the steep flight of metal stairs attached to the outside of the twenty-foot-tall stainless-steel fermenting vat, leaned over the containment lid, slid it back, and peered down at the dark wine. She was just getting ready to dip the small wooden cup attached to a long metal handle which she’d brought with her into the wine in the vat when someone grabbed her from behind and held her face over the open fermenting wine vat. In less than thirty seconds, she was overcome by the carbon dioxide fumes generated by the fermentation process.
The person behind her pushed her unconscious body into the vat of wine, where she floated face down in the cauldron of bubbling fermenting wine. Angela never heard Foxie’s frantic barking as she saw her mistress disappear into the tank and the murderer run down the stairs, open the heavy doors a little more, and slip outside. It was fortunate for Foxie that the murderer heard approaching voices, or she might have been the next one pushed into the wine vat.
CHAPTER 5
“Mike, I just got an email from Julia,” Kelly said as she walked into the kitchen. “She and Brad want to meet us in Sonoma. You know, she’s been teaching classes on wine at the college over in Calico Gold, and she’s ready for a little R & R. She’d like to do some wine tasting over there. Sounds kind of fun. We’ve never done anything like that, although I think I better switch to water after my two-glass limit.”
Mike looked up from his newspaper and raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean they won’t be bringing Ella and Olivia? I don’t think they’d enjoy a vacation like that.”
“No, your cherished grandchildren will have to stay at home. Wine tasting rooms and children are not synonymous.” Kelly reached for the coffee pot on the stove and started to fill the two mugs on the countertop.
When Mike had married Kelly, a widow with two grown children, he’d shortly inherited two step grandchildren as well. Her daughter, Julia, had married Brad, a widower with two daughters, and within a few months of their wedding Julia had adopted the two girls whose mother had died from a drug overdose.
Mike was a man who had lived by himself for many years following his divorce, but after his marriage to Kelly, he eagerly took to being a stepfather and particularly his new role of step-grandparent. He used every excuse he could to see the young girls, who adored him. When his elderly aunt was murdered and he inherited her large ranch in Calico Gold, he adopted Julia, so she could inherit it on his death rather than having it sold to a stranger. He often said it was the best thing he’d ever done.
Kelly set the mugs on the table and sat down beside Mike, who reached for the one Ella and Olivia had given him the previous Christmas, that said, “Trust Me – I’m a Sheriff.” He lifted the cup up and took a sip. “Grudgingly I have to agree with you. Yes, let’s do it. Did they give some dates they’d like to go? I’ll have to get someone to cover for me at the sheriff’s department, and you’ll have to check with Roxie to see if she can manage Kelly’s Koffee Shop during your absence for a few days.”
Kelly swirled the cof
fee around in her “Boss Babe” mug, a gift from Roxie. “In her email Julia said that the crush, whatever that is, was recently finished, and that she’d like to go next week. Do you think that’s too soon?”
“No, I think I can arrange something. And you?” he asked.
“Roxie mentioned the other day she’d seen a couch she’d like to buy, but she didn’t feel she could justify the expense right now. This would probably help her, so I think it will work. I’ll email Julia back and tell her we’re 90% sure we can make it, but she better bring plenty of photographs, because Grandpa wants to see his girls.” She grinned at Mike knowing what a sucker he was for his granddaughters.
“You’ve got that right.” Mike squeezed Kelly’s arm and stood up from the table, picking up his cell phone. “I’ll make a couple of calls, and I should know whether or not it’s a go in just a few minutes.”
“I’ll do the same before I email her and then we can give her a thumbs up or a thumbs down.” She heard Mike talking on his phone in the hallway, while she placed a call to Roxie.
A few minutes later Mike walked back into the kitchen with a smile on his face after he’d called the sheriff’s department. “I made it happen,” he said. “I guess being the sheriff of Beaver County, Oregon, has its advantages when the sheriff wants a little time off to be with his wife. And you? How did it go?” he asked.
“Yes. Roxie’s thrilled to have the chance to pick up some extra money. I’ll email Julia right now and tell her it’s a go.”
“Great,” Mike said, looking around. “While you’re doing that, I’ll start dinner. What did you have planned for tonight?”
“I wanted to make that recipe that’s on the counter.” Kelly motioned towards the open book on the recipe stand. “It’s a Mexican salad with chicken. If it’s any good, I thought I might be able to serve it at Kelly’s. Go ahead and start. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She walked down the hall followed by their three dogs, Rebel, a large fawn boxer, Lady, a yellow Labrador retriever, and the newest addition to the Reynolds family, Skyy, a German shepherd who was almost out of puppyhood.
“Kelly, when you email Julia, tell her we’ll fly into Sacramento, rent a car, and meet them in Sonoma,” Mike called after her. “Also ask her where we should stay. I know it’s kind of a sheriff thing, but I don’t like to be dependent on someone else driving. Okay with you?”
Kelly smiled to herself. She was expecting it. “Sure,” she said, “if it makes you happy, I’m all for it.”
Julia must have been waiting for Kelly’s answer because she responded to Kelly’s email within minutes. Between them they worked out the arrangements for the following week. Kelly walked back into the kitchen after she finished with the last email. This time she was unaccompanied, as the dogs had left her as soon as they heard Mike opening kitchen cabinets and drawers, since they were always on the lookout for a treat or a dropped scrap of food.
“That pink apron suits you, Mike,” she grinned. “It’s all arranged. We’re meeting them next Monday at a bed and breakfast Julia’s heard good things about. She’d already inquired as to availability and they have rooms available for both couples for three nights. Julia says the inn is about a block and a half from the Sonoma city square where there are lots of good restaurants.”
Mike flipped the chicken in the skillet. “That sounds good, but I have to tell you that this is new territory for me. I’ve been to Napa and driven past the road that goes west to Sonoma, but I’ve never been there. How do we go about the wine tastings? Is Julia going to arrange for that?”
Kelly stepped beside her husband and inspected the chicken he was cooking. “Looks good. Yes, she said she would. She’s called the Moretti Winery to see if we could have a private tour. From what Julia said, they only give private tours and unlike most other wineries, this one doesn’t have a tasting room open to the public.” Kelly started to chop the salad vegetables and munched on a piece of tomato before continuing.
“She’d tentatively made a reservation for the four of us for a private tour next Monday afternoon. I guess Julia had quite a conversation with the tour guide and they hit it off because both of them have passed some type of fancy schmancy wine test.”
Kelly transferred the chopped tomatoes into the salad bowl. “Anyway, we’re going to meet Julia and Brad at the bed and breakfast in the early afternoon and catch up. Julia said she checked and they have cars for hire in Sonoma, so she wants us to use one of them when we go wine tasting, which I think is smart. I’m not a big fan of going to a wine tasting and then getting in a car and driving, and knowing how you feel about drinking and driving, I didn’t even bother to ask you. Whatever it costs, it’s worth it.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Actually, the chicken is almost done. Why don’t you set the table, and I can finish the salad? It’s probably too late tonight, but tomorrow would you call the kennel and make a reservation for the dogs?” Mike turned down the heat on the chicken while Kelly pulled out silverware from a drawer.
“I will,” she said, as she moved across the room to the table. “But if you remember, Doc and Liz said they’d love to watch the dogs the next time we went out of town. They’ve got Lucky and Max, their new bulldog, and all five of the dogs have been together before. They have that big back yard that’s fenced. Let’s take them up on their offer. I think our dogs would love it.”
“Fine with me, but that’s a lot of dogs to take care of.” Mike transferred the chicken to a large shallow bowl, while the dogs hovered around his feet in case anything might come their way.
“True, but after all Doc has been through these last few years, I think he’s loving his new domesticated lifestyle, and what speaks more to a domesticated life than taking care of five dogs?”
“Not much. By the way, Kelly, I think you’ve got a hit on your hands with this salad. Let me get some iced tea and crackers to go with it, and I think we’re good to go.”
Mike plated the salads, served them, and then said, “Sit down and I’ll make a toast to our new adventure.” When they were both seated at the table, he lifted his glass, “To Sonoma and an enjoyable few days. We both can use the R and R, and I’m looking forward to it.” They clicked their glasses and started to eat.
If murder makes for an enjoyable few days, then his toast was appropriate, but if not…
CHAPTER 6
Shortly after noon on Monday of the following week, Mike drove north on Highway 12 towards Sonoma and a few minutes later he and Kelly saw the town square spread out before them. They’d done a little research and found out that the historic plaza had once been a Mexican military outpost, a frontier republic, a Spanish Mission village, and was now an historic landmark. On the far side of the square they saw the military outpost. The other three streets surrounding the square were packed with upscale restaurants, shops, wine bars, and everything else a desirable tourist destination would have. Conspicuous by their absence were any glitzy tee shirt shops or fast food chain restaurants.
In the newspaper Mike had read online, it was apparent that there was quite a battle taking place over whether the sleepy little town should remain as it is or open itself up to entrepreneurs who wanted to build large hotels and other businesses that catered to the tourist trade, particularly the people who came because of the area’s renowned wine culture.
“Well, Kelly, what do you think?” Mike asked, slowing the car to a snail’s pace.
“I think we’ve taken a step back in time. This is utterly charming, and who would think it would exist in the middle of a thriving wine industry that’s becoming, from what Julia says, known throughout the world?”
“From that statement, I’m guessing that you’re one of the people who would like to see it remain just like it is and not bow to the developers and others who want to see it become a much larger tourist attraction.”
“I probably am.” Kelly said as she gazed out the car window at the quaint scene that time appeared to have forgotten. “There
’s not much charm left in many of the areas that are destination tourist places. To see what could happen to Sonoma all you have to do is look at the neighboring Napa area which has bowed to commercial interests. That’s just my opinion, and I’m sure it’s a huge concern for the residents.”
Mike peered through the windshield. “Would you double check me on where we’re going? The instructions are in that file laying on the back seat. I think we go one block past the square and take a left. From what Julia wrote to us, the bed and breakfast should be located there.”
A few minutes later Mike pulled into the driveway and followed the sign for Guest Parking. They both spent a moment looking at the large Queen Anne style home where they’d be staying for the next few days.
“Mike, it’s beautiful and immaculate,” Kelly said, as she admired the wooden building with its very distinctive style of architecture including a round tower at the top. “I love the large yard and all the flowers around the house and more hanging from baskets on the porch. It’s utterly delightful. If our room is half as charming as what I’m seeing, I’m going to be very happy.”
When they opened the front door, they were greeted by a young woman. “Welcome to the Sonoma Bed and Breakfast. My name is Brie. Since you have luggage, I’m assuming you’ll be staying with us.”
“Yes,” Kelly said. “We have a reservation under the name of Reynolds.”
The young woman checked her computer and said, “Here it is. I show Sheriff Mike and Kelly Reynolds. Is that right?”
“That’s us. What do you need?”
“May I see a form of identification and the credit card you’ll be using to pay for the room?”
“Certainly.” A few moments later the young woman said, “You’ll be staying in the Figueroa Room. Governor Figueroa was sent to Sonoma by the Mexican government in 1835 to protect the area from foreigners, particularly the Russians who were encroaching on the area north of San Francisco. Actually, it’s my favorite room. Just go up the stairs, and it’s the room at the end of the hall. I guess the reason I like it is because it’s quite large. Most renovated Queen Anne homes have relatively small rooms.”
Murdered By Wine: A Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 13) Page 2