“That’s not how things work,” Sadie said. “Suspicious and guilty are two different things. I was at the winery when the police picked her up, and she looked distraught, not guilty.”
“You were there?” several guests asked simultaneously.
“Yes, I was. The innkeeper’s family owns the Tremiato Winery. You’ll see their brochures in the lobby. In any case, family had – or planned to have – a Harvest Festival today, which is why I was there. It’s now been postponed, for obvious reasons.”
“Well, I’m not staying here,” a woman said. “This is way too creepy. I mean, anyone could be next.”
“I assure you, that’s not going to happen,” a deep voice said. Sadie turned toward the parlor’s doorway to see Stefano had entered. He looked haggard, but more composed than he had earlier. Not that anyone could be expected to look composed while watching a spouse being dragged away by law enforcement, Sadie thought.
“Tina will be back in a few hours. This is all a big misunderstanding.” He paused, looking around the room at the confused faces. “I’m Stefano, Tina’s husband, and my wife and I own The Vintage Vines together, though she is the face of the B&B. Of course you may leave if you feel more comfortable doing so. We’ll refund your lodging deposits, in view of the current circumstances, but I hope you’ll stay.”
With that, Stefano left the room to converse with the police, who had moved from the kitchen to the innkeepers’ quarters. Guests split in different directions, some to their rooms and others out to explore the town. A few announced they were going to pack and leave, despite Stefano’s assurances that they were safe.
Sadie followed Stefano as far as the kitchen, lingering by the center island with both cream puffs and eavesdropping in mind. The voices from the innkeeper quarters, a back area off the kitchen, were muffled. Still, she caught a few sentences as she pretended to rearrange the appetizers.
“No, nothing appears to be missing.” Stefano sounded a tad abrupt and defensive to Sadie, as if he wanted to get the questions over with and see the officers on their way. Probably normal under the circumstances?
Sadie couldn't make out a question one officer posed, but heard Stefano’s reply loud and clear. “Of course we haven’t received any threats or seen any unusual activity! Don’t you think we would have reported something like that?” Yep, defensive. But why?
“Settle down, Mr. Tremiato. We’re just doing our job.” A half-hearted apology followed this statement. Stefano walked back into the kitchen and noticed Sadie.
“You were at the store yesterday. And at the winery before that.”
“Guilty as charged,” Sadie quipped, immediately regretting her choice of words.
“Well, you certainly picked an interesting time to get acquainted with our family.” Stefano looked under the foil covering one of the trays. “Ah, I see my sister dropped off food from the festival.”
“Actually, she asked me to bring it back here, so she could stay and watch your mother.”
“Oh! Of course! There’s nothing Luisa likes more than taking care of everyone around her. Good old Luisa.”
The sarcastic tone in Stefano’s voice made it clear he was not his sister’s greatest fan. In fact, Sadie was beginning to wonder if Luisa had fans. Was it because of her aloof – dare she say cold fish – personality, or was there more going on behind the scenes?
“Mr. Tremiato?” Both Sadie and Stefano turned to see an officer in the doorway, holding a radio in his hand. “You’re welcome to pick your wife up at the station. They’re done questioning her.”
“She’s not being charged?” Stefano sounded both relieved and surprised.
“No, sir. She’s free to go.”
“And so are we,” the other officer said, joining the first. “We’re just taking a few items to inspect. We’ll return them as soon as possible.”
“I’m following them,” Stefano said. “Could you see if any of this will fit in the refrigerator? Just until Tina gets back here. I apologize for asking. I know you’re a guest.”
“I’m tickled pink to help,” Sadie said. Just one cream puff...
Sadie watched Stefano disappear through the front door just behind the officers, who took a laptop and several plastic bags of possible evidence. Although it was impossible to tell exactly what each bag contained, she could have sworn one bag held bruschetta.
CHAPTER SIX
The evening flowed along without major incident. Celia, a part-time innkeeper with a willowy figure and shoulder-length brown curls, had set out wine and appetizers for the guests who had stayed. Talk tiptoed around the tragedy as everyone tried to pretend the day had turned normal. Even a few card games broke out, though the players were subdued.
Although Sadie normally loved cocktail hours for the camaraderie and chance to dig into the mysteries of her fellow human beings, her mind was too full of questions about the murder on the Tremiatos’ property and the tension she sensed among the family members. After a half-hearted-attempt to get interested in a game of Spades, Sadie had feigned a headache and left to take Coco for a long walk around the neighborhood. She went to bed, exhausted from her mental gymnastics, and dreamed about the multiple nuances between the siblings that created a complicated puzzle.
The faint sound of crying awakened Sadie from her light, edgy sleep. She had a hunch the puzzle was about to get more complicated.
She slipped out to the parlor, but found it empty; so was the kitchen. She pulled her silk, chartreuse and lavender robe tighter around her. The sniffling sound was fainter than it had been in her room. As she retraced her steps, the muffled crying grew louder. Finally she cracked open the back door, just beyond her room. A safety light filtered across the yard and revealed Tina sitting on a bench behind the innkeeper quarters.
“Are you OK?”
Tina jumped as Sadie approached and tried to hide a crumpled tissue in one hand. Sadie felt a twinge for invading Tina’s privacy, but subtlety was not one of her strengths, and she believed she could both offer some comfort and dig up some information at the same time.
“I’m fine,” Tina said, though her voice quivered.
“If you need to talk, I’m a good listener.” Usually, this was true, but the many unanswered questions might make it hard to focus, especially since one of those questions concerned Matteo’s continued absence. Amber had called that evening to tell Sadie the chocolatier hadn’t opened his store at all that day.
Suddenly, Tina said, “Look, Sadie, I know you and Matteo are friends.” She swiped the sodden tissue under her eyes.
Sadie startled, feeling guilty for coming to town under false pretenses, though they weren't entirely false. She was due a weekend off, and she just managed to combine this mini-vacation with a little detective work. In any case, ending up in the middle of a murder had never been part of her plan. Cautiously, she sat next to Tina.
“Yes, we are friends. And I’m sorry I didn’t say so right away. Matteo seemed agitated the day before I left, and I suspected it had to do with his family. I was worried. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’d never seen him like that.”
Tina reached over and patted Sadie’s arm, a gesture designed to be friendly but that Sadie found a bit alarming. The police let her go, but…. Instinctively, Sadie pulled her arm back a bit, then apologized.
“Don’t worry,” Tina sniffled, recognizing Sadie’s unease. “I’m surprised the police let me go. After all, I was the one to discover…” She broke down crying before she could finish the sentence. “He was just there, you know? Sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and red…liquid – blood, wine, both, I guess. And his neck….” She turned to Sadie, who simply nodded.
“Don’t feel you have to talk, Tina. You’ve been through a lot. If you need to be alone, I can go back to my room.”
“No, I want you to stay. I have to talk to someone. Matteo has always said you’re a good person.” She made a sound that was a cross between tears and a laugh. “An
d an exceptional customer.”
Sadie laughed, too. “Yes, that’s true. I can’t get through an afternoon without a few of his truffles.”
“Same here,” Tina said. “He sneaks shipments up here, with false labels so his wacko family won’t realize who sent them.”
“I thought he wasn’t in touch with any of your family.”
“Ha,” Tina replied. “Don’t include me in that group of lunatics. I just married into the family. I had no idea I was getting into a dysfunctional mess.”
“You can’t talk to Stefano?”
Tina shook her head. “I’d have to see him to talk to him. He’s always at the store. Or so he says. Sometimes I don’t care that he’s not around. His absence keeps the constant family drama away.”
Tina lapsed into silence and then sighed. “I didn’t do it, you know.”
“Of course not,” Sadie said. That’s what they all say…
“But you’re right about Matteo being estranged from the family,” Tina continued. “The Tremiatos felt he disgraced them because he didn’t take over the family business. And for chocolate? They see that as a silly hobby, not a career.”
“They might take it seriously if they saw the lines of customers at his place,” Sadie interjected.
“I know. He’s very successful, and he’s doing what he loves.” Tina dabbed the tissue at her eyes, still fighting back tears. “But that means nothing to the Tremiatos. To them, it’s about family pride. That winery is their whole life. Every family member is expected to carry equal weight.”
“Yet Stefano has his own store.”
“Our store,” Tina clarified. “We own it together, though I have no desire to go there lately to watch his groupies hang around the counter. As for your point, Stefano sells massive amounts of Tremiato wine, holds tastings, displays the bottles in the windows. So he’s still in the family’s good graces though he works elsewhere. The store is the perfect feeder for winery visits, too. He recommends it to everyone and keeps brochures and maps on the counter.”
“And you have the bed and breakfast to run.”
“Yes, thank goodness. It gives me an excuse to stay away from all that craziness. Besides, I enjoy it. I was sorry to miss the wine and cheese hour today, but I was in no shape to be out there with guests. I’m lucky I have Celia to help out.”
“She did a good job,” Sadie said. “And it didn't hurt to have all those appetizers that Luisa sent over.”
“Ah, yes, Luisa. She’s an interesting one,” Tina said, a tinge of sarcasm under the sniffles.
When she failed to elaborate, Sadie nudged her on. “How so?”
“You never quite know what’s going on with her. If you try to get close, she backs away. She’s fiercely proud of being a Tremiato, but as the only daughter she’s at a disadvantage. With Matteo away, she’s the oldest, yet Angelo makes most of the decisions about winery concerns. Luisa resents that.”
“The plight of women in the business world.”
“Exactly. And family politics combined with Old Italian traditions make it worse.”
Sadie hesitated before posing her next question, but decided to go ahead.
“Tina, have you talked to Matteo today? Or last night”
Tina paused. “Not today, but I did talk to him last night. Wait, that’s not right. It was yesterday afternoon, because I was still preparing the cheese tray for the guests, to set out with wine at 5. So I’d say it was 4:30 or so.”
“How did he sound?” In order to not seem too nosy, Sadie added, “He seemed upset the day before, at his shop.”
“That’s odd,” Tina said. “He sounded fine to me when he called yesterday. But there was a lot of noise in the background. We didn't talk long. I figured his store was extra busy. Or that he’d taken his cell phone out front, around customers. Though, come to think of it, that’s odd, too. He always likes to keep his personal life separate from his business life.”
“I don’t think he called you from the store,” Sadie ventured, knowing she was about to add to Tina’s already heavy load of worries.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, according to Amber, my assistant, he closed up shop early yesterday.”
“Early? He never closes early! That shop is his life.”
“It gets a little worse, I’m afraid. He didn’t open up today at all.”
Although it was too dark to see, Sadie imagined that Tina’s face paled.
“No! This isn’t good! This isn’t good at all!” Tina stood up and started to walk away. “You have to excuse me.”
“Tina? Tina?” Sadie’s calls were to no avail. Tina had reached the back door and slipped inside the inn. The conversation was over.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What do you make of this, Coco?”
The petite ball of fluff tipped her head to one side in curiosity as Sadie held the newspaper up, turning it in Coco’s direction.
“It says here ‘the coroner’s office has identified the body found at the Tremiato Winery yesterday as 54-year-old Simon J. Flanagan, originally of Boston, Mass. Mr. Flanagan was an employee of Serrano-Flanagan, a Sacramento company in which he owned a small share of stock. He leaves behind a wife of 28 years and two grown children. Police are investigating the death as a homicide.’”
Coco responded by licking her paw and staying silent. Sadie pondered the news out loud. “Why would the dead body of a man from Sacramento be in the Tremiato fermentation building – apologies, Coco, that does sound a bit gross. Did his firm have business in this area?”
Sadie kicked off her leopard print slippers, fluffed the bed pillows and settled back against them to continue reading.
“’Serrano-Flanagan recently made a bid to purchase the Tremiato Winery, an offer that was refused by the fourth-generation vintners after considerable disagreement between family members.’ Aha, Coco! I think we’re getting somewhere. ‘No further negotiations are known to have occurred since family turned down the bid. It is unknown whether or not the discovery of the victim at the Tremiato Winery is related to the attempt to buy the property and business. The family has not issued a statement at this time, and a call to the Tremiato family lawyer, Nick Perry, has not been returned.”
Tossing the paper aside, Sadie mulled over the new information. Matteo had never mentioned anything about a bid to purchase the winery, though he rarely said anything about the family business at all. The newspaper article noted dissension amongst family members before the offer was rejected. Had Matteo been in on that? Just because he chose to stay away from family affairs didn't mean all family members stayed away from him. Case in point: the phone call she’d overheard at Matteo’s shop. That could easily have been one of the siblings. And Tina, though not family by blood, was still a Tremiato and seemed to communicate with Matteo regularly.
“Curiouser and curiouser, Coco.” The Yorkie shifted position and blinked.
Sadie sat up and took a sip of the coffee she’d found in the front room. She’d also grabbed a blueberry muffin. No other guests had been up and about to interrupt her interrogatory momentum, an advantage to being an early bird.
Choosing bright purple slacks and a white tunic with polka dots in various shades of lavender, Sadie wrapped a yellow scarf around her head and tied it at the side of her neck. She added chunky white earrings and a long strand of colorful glass baubles. Sliding into a pair of beaded flats, she refilled Coco’s water dish, grabbed her cell phone, and went looking for Tina. She found the innkeeper restocking the breakfast buffet.
“Good morning,” Sadie said. “Delicious blueberry muffins. I swiped one earlier, with a cup of coffee.”
“Good morning, Sadie,” Tina said as she set a bowl of fresh blackberries alongside a platter of honeydew melon. “I want to thank you for being such a good listener last night. I should never have imposed on you that way.”
“Don’t be silly!” Sadie exclaimed. “For one thing, I’m the one who asked you if you wanted to talk. And
, besides, we all need to vent a little now and then. Plus we were both worried about Matteo. Speaking of which, have you been able to reach him?”
“No, but I’m not as worried now. I reached a friend of his, who told me Matteo had been talking about needing a break. He’d asked about borrowing fishing gear from the guy’s back porch. When the friend checked last night, the gear was gone.”
“So you think he went fishing?”
“It certainly sounds like it, don’t you think?” Tina said. “Asking ahead of time for the gear? Seems clear cut to me.”
Sadie nodded, but said nothing. Maybe, maybe not. Seems a bit too convenient.
“You’re probably right,” Sadie said, and hoped Tina didn’t sense her doubts. She reached for another muffin and then stopped herself. A nice lunch in town a few hours later sounded appealing, and there was no point in spoiling her appetite by overeating now. “By the way, I’m thinking about staying another night, if the room isn’t booked.” Things are far too interesting to leave now.
“I’ll check the registration book, but I’m sure that’s fine. Sundays are quiet since people tend to head back home to prepare for work on Monday.”
Tina finished rearranging pitchers of orange, apple and cranberry juice and moved to the front entryway. She glanced through registration records and nodded her head. “Yes, there’s plenty of space. In fact, you can just keep the Merlot room.”
“Perfect,” Sadie said. “A calmer day in this lovely area would do me some good. Yesterday was hectic, to say the least.” She paused. “Oh! I’m sorry! I shouldn't complain, considering what you’ve been through.”
Tina waved her hand in the air, dismissing Sadie’s concerns. “Don’t worry. Obviously it wasn't an ideal situation for a weekend escape.”
Not “an ideal situation?” Could there be any more of an understatement than that?
Sadie realized that mentioning the newspaper coverage of the murder to Tina might be insensitive, but she decided she would make the most of the innkeeper’s current composure and began asking careful questions.
A Flair for Chardonnay Page 4