A Flair for Chardonnay

by Deborah Garner

  “Still in town, I see,” Luisa said. She glanced at Sadie briefly before looking back down. “We’re closing up soon.” Nice to see you, too.

  “I won’t take long,” Sadie said, putting forth a double dose of cheer. “I’m heading home in the morning and just wanted to pick up a couple of bottles of your excellent Chardonnay. And to see how your mother is doing.” She knew that sounded nosy, but a tidbit of information about the animated discussion she witnessed between mother and daughter before could be helpful.

  Luisa nodded, even made eye contact again. “She’s still upset about recent events, but will be fine.” She changed the subject immediately. “I can help you with the wine.” Turning away, she took two bottles from a multi-tiered wine holder and placed them on the counter. “Two?”

  “Yes, two will do. And…I saw some things in your gift section…” Sadie moved to the corner display that she’d studied when she first arrived. She picked out four dangling wine glass charms, each with different grape designs so that drinks could be identified individually. She’d seen those used at parties on occasion and had always wanted a set. She added a pair of earrings with clusters of grapes to match the charms. It was an unusual combination of items, but unique for a future cocktail occasion.

  “Ah, beautiful choices,” Luisa said as Sadie returned with the items in hand. “Those are both handmade by a local artist.” Wrapping them in tissue, Luisa slid them into a paper bag with the Tremiato logo on it. She rang up the purchases and waited while Sadie rummaged through her tote bag for her wallet. A tiny yip resulted, which Luisa either didn’t hear or simply ignored.

  “Yes, whimsical,” Sadie said as she handed a credit card across the counter. “I hope your mother is doing better, by the way.”

  Luisa dismissed the statement with a simple “thank you.” She handed the credit card transaction slip back to be signed and packaged the wine bottles to prevent breakage. “I hope you’ll come back to see us again sometime,” she said as she turned over the purchases. Sadie wasn’t sure she’d ever heard a less sincere invitation,

  “Oh, she will.” Angelo stepped behind the counter and stood next to Luisa, who didn't budge one millimeter. “You’ll come back next weekend for the rescheduled festival, right?” He turned to Luisa with a bright smile. “We’re hoping everyone will come back, aren’t we, Luisa?” Getting no response, he turned to Sadie. “We may even get others who wouldn't have been here this weekend. It all works out, one way or another. After all, there’s no such thing as bad publicity, right?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Sadie answered. Using murder as a marketing tactic seemed, well, tacky.

  “I don’t think you ever said what you do.” Luisa’s sudden question caught Sadie off guard. It seemed odd that she’d ask her that just as she was leaving.

  “I have a business in the city.” Both Angelo and Luisa stared at her, expectantly, as if she’d trailed off after a sentence fragment.

  “I have a little boutique that sells unique clothes and accessories, nothing major. Not nearly as exciting as running a family winery.” Sadie was eager to leave now before a connection could be made between her shop and Matteo’s.

  “I’ll carry those for you,” Angelo said. He moved quickly after watching Sadie try to pick up both wine bottles, and the bag of glass trinkets, while holding her tote bag cautiously beside her. He accompanied Sadie to her car and reached into the back seat, placing the wine bottles on their side.

  “Thank you, Angelo. I’ll do my best to come back.” Sadie set her tote bag down on the passenger seat and gave him what she hoped was a casual smile. With wine, trinkets and tote bag safely loaded, she said goodbye and headed back to The Vintage Vine for one last night before returning to the city.

  * * *

  At the inn, Sadie found an unfamiliar blue Lincoln Continental in the parking lot. She was certain Tina had said there weren’t any new guests arriving that night, and the few remaining from the weekend were the quiet sort. She was curious.

  Sadie parked her car a few spots down from the Continental. She placed the bottles of wine in her trunk, along with the other purchases, and glanced up at the sky, where a few light gray clouds were gathering. She put the top up, in case the clouds turned ominous, and then bustled in through the back door. It only took a few minutes to get Coco settled in her palace and fill her China bowls with food and fresh water. She then went in search of a glass of whatever Tremiato specialty the inn had out on the buffet.

  “Oh, Sadie, I’m glad to see you!” An enthusiastic Tina was just placing a tray of Brie, crackers and sliced pears out next to a bottle of Petite Sirah. “We have another guest tonight – a walk-in – so I spruced up the wine hour a bit. I’m bringing out a plate of those stuffed mushrooms, too. And I’ll put some coffee out later, along with the rest of those cream puffs. Maybe we can finish everything off. I hate to see food go to waste, don’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Tina disappeared into the kitchen.

  Sadie’s eyes lit up. The idea of having an entire dinner of chocolate drizzled cream puffs was appealing, especially if she could justify it as doing her part in community service. She was certainly in favor of not wasting food. However, she reigned in her sweet tooth and poured herself a glass of sirah. The contrast to the chardonnay that she’d had several times over the weekend was satisfying. She was glad she’d added another night to her stay. She spread some Brie on a cracker, topped it off with a sliver of pear, and sashayed to the front parlor, following a trail of soft jazz. This is where she found the unexpected guest, an elderly man easily in his 80s, though it was difficult to gauge for certain, since he rested on the couch, a golf cap pulled so low over his face it nearly touched his bushy salt and pepper mustache. A cane rested on the floor beside him.

  “Here, Mr. Collins…” Tina’s voice trailed off as she rounded the parlor corner and saw Sadie’s finger pressed to her lips. “Oh, I’m not surprised he’s asleep,” she whispered. “He looked exhausted when he first arrived. That was a couple of hours ago. Said he’d meant to drive right through this area, but was feeling tired and thought it best not to push.” Tina backed out of the room so the guest could rest, Sadie right behind her.

  “Always smart to get off the road in that case,” Sadie agreed. She gulped more wine and took another bite of the Brie-cracker-pear combo, crumbs tumbling to the floor.

  “He’s staying in the room next to yours. Normally, when we only have a few guests, I try to spread the rooms out. But you saw the cane…I couldn’t put him upstairs.”

  Sadie waved her hand in the air shooing away Tina’s worries. “It’s fine,” she said. He’ll probably sleep the whole evening, anyway. “Any word from Matteo?”

  Tina shook her head. “I bet he gives me a call tomorrow. I’m sure he’s still out fishing now, or on his way back.” She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray of stuffed mushrooms, which she added to the buffet.

  “You’re not worried?” Sadie still wasn't buying Tina’s offhand attitude about Matteo’s whereabouts.

  “No. And I don’t think you should be, either. I’m sure he’ll be back at his shop tomorrow when you get home.”

  Sadie popped a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, sat at the table, and set her wine glass down. “Well, I hope so,” she said. “I’m in dire need of one of his raspberry truffles.”

  “Aren’t those the best?” Tina laughed. Sadie decided to use the light moment to dig a little more.

  “Tina, about that article in the paper this morning covering yesterday’s events. I know you said Stefano and Angelo dealt with winery business, but are you sure you don’t remember anything about the failed merger or sale? Could this have had something to do with Mr. Flanagan’s murder?”

  “Oh, those ‘negotiations’! It was all such a mess I tried to block it out. All I know is that the family turned down the offer, but that whole process was like a Shakespearean tragedy when it came to taking sides.”

  “What do you mean?” Sadi
e had found an opening.

  Tina poured herself a glass of wine and sat next to Sadie. “I’ll tell you, I’ve never seen the Tremiato family at such odds with each other before. That Serrano-Flanagan offer was a decent one – plenty of money. Stefano thought it was a good deal, enough to keep Elena secure for the rest of her life, plus plenty to go around to the rest of the family. Angelo agreed with Stefano. But Elena wouldn’t hear of it. She said the winery was a family legacy and should stay in the family. Said it would tarnish the Tremiato name if another company took over.”

  “And Luisa?”

  “Luisa? Luisa always wants whatever Luisa wants. In this case, it was probably the money. But she won’t ever go against Elena, so her ‘public’ position was to not sell.”

  Sadie took another sip of wine. “So it sounds like the family was split male versus female on this issue.”

  “Not entirely. Matteo was against selling, though he debated in favor at first.”

  “Was he involved with the discussions? I thought he was estranged from the family.”

  “Not legally,” Tina explained. “He’s still family as far as the law is concerned. And he has the majority interest. They had to ask his opinion.”

  “Who talked to him about it?”

  “Angelo. Though I understand it was a brief conversation, and not a pleasant one.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s always been friction since Matteo left to open his business, especially with Angelo. This just made it worse.”

  “Why especially with Angelo?”

  “Because he was left with the winery to run. He felt it shouldn't have become his sole responsibility, that Matteo should have stayed around to help.”

  “But he has Luisa to help. And why doesn't Angelo resent Stefano having his own business, if he resents Matteo’s business that much?”

  “Angelo is very old school. His father was the same way. The Tremiato men don’t think women have a place in business. And Vines and Tines was actually Elena’s idea, not Stefano’s. The store feeds people into the winery, not to mention selling the product itself.”

  “So Angelo perceives Matteo as abandoning the family, whereas Stefano is helping by sending more business their way,” Sadie mused.

  “Exactly,” Tina said.

  “It sounds like Elena is a smart businesswoman,” Sadie said. The irony that Elena, a woman, was the power behind the business didn’t escape Sadie.

  “Very,” Tina agreed. “Whatever goes on in that family comes down to Elena. Gustavo always handled the business side of the winery, but Elena stepped up as soon as he passed away. She’s stronger than the rest of them combined. They’ll all argue, but in the end they won’t go against her wishes.”

  “Except Matteo,” Sadie pointed out.

  “Yes, except Matteo. That’s another reason the family resents him going out on his own. They feel he let his mother down. He’s always been independent, able to stand on his own. He’s not afraid of anything.”

  Sadie fought the urge to smile, as she pictured Matteo hiding on the floor behind the counter at Flair.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The click of a door closing roused Sadie from sleep. Wine, conversation and enough appetizers to constitute a hearty dinner had lulled her into an early bedtime. Her attempts to stay up reading had been futile, so she’d set her book aside and turned out the light before ten o’clock.

  Now awake, she realized the sound she’d heard was the shutting of the door to Mr. Collins’ room. He’d retired even earlier than she had, leaving the front parlor without a word to anyone. Had it not been for the slow, dull tapping of his cane against the wood hallway floor, she and Tina wouldn’t have known he’d moved.

  Sadie glanced at the clock next to her bed: two o’clock in the morning. An odd time to be up and about, she thought. Mr. Collins’ room, like hers, had a private bath. So he wasn’t in need of a middle of the night restroom jaunt, as some upper floor rooms that shared a bath down the hall might require. Had he gone in search of a glass of water? Leftover appetizers perhaps? Or maybe he was a sleepwalker. Sadie amused herself with the possibilities.

  Finally letting curiosity win, she tiptoed to her door and cracked it open, glancing down the hallway, where she saw an oddly spry Mr. Collins slip out the front door, overnight bag and cane in hand. She pursed her lips. The old man had barely been able to tap his way down the hall earlier. Why the sudden burst of agility?

  Sadie slipped out of her room and reached the front of the inn just in time to hear a car start up outside. She glanced out the window, surprised to see the blue Lincoln Continental backing out of the lot. When she moved to the registration desk, she saw a lone key sitting on the counter. She glanced into Mr. Collins’ room as she returned to hers to find it empty of personal belongings. He had simply left in the middle of the night.

  “I don’t understand this, Coco,” she said, once settled back into her bed. “The person I saw slip out the front door moved too quickly to be Mr. Collins, yet I’m sure it was.” Coco yipped in agreement. “There’s only one conclusion I can draw from this,” Sadie continued. “Mr. Collins was not Mr. Collins.”

  Again Coco yipped. Sadie smiled as she slid back under the quilt. It was nice to have a traveling companion who agreed with everything she said.

  * * *

  The breakfast room was busy when Sadie emerged the next morning. Several guests sat together, planning visits to various tasting rooms in the area. Tina spoke with a guest who was checking out. Sadie poured a cup of coffee from the buffet and placed a bear claw on a plate, adding several slices of melon to balance the good calories against the bad.

  “We’re emptying out today, all but a few rooms,” Tina said, finally getting a chance to say good morning to Sadie. “Several guests have already taken coffee to go and checked out. And one must have left early this morning, because his key was on the counter when I woke up.”

  “That would be Mr. Collins, I imagine,” Sadie said.

  “Yes,” Tina said. “How did you know?”

  “Actually, I saw him leave. I heard a door close in the middle of the night and looked out into the hall, just in time to see him go out the front door.”

  “How odd,” Tina said. “He just checked in yesterday. Strange elderly man.”

  “I’m not convinced of the elderly part.”

  “What do you mean?” Tina looked confused.

  “I watched the way he moved as he left – quickly, easily. He didn’t use his cane; he carried it.” Sadie paused. “How did he pay? Did he give you a credit card?”

  “No, as a matter of fact,” Tina said. “He paid cash. Said he preferred that when he travels. Some sort of safety paranoia about using credit cards.”

  “Yes,” Sadie agreed. “Some sort of paranoia is right. But I don’t think it’s about using credit cards. I think he didn’t want to leave a real name.”

  “You’re saying he wasn’t who he said he was? That he was pretending to be Mr. Collins?”

  Sadie nodded. “More than that, Tina. I doubt there even is a Mr. Collins.”

  “You’re saying he was here in disguise?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “A younger man disguised as an old man, under a false name.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know,” Sadie said. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with Mr. Flanagan’s murder. Maybe even connecting you to the murder. Why else would this guest pretending to be someone else choose to stay here just when events unraveled at the winery?” Sadie paused before continuing. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

  “Hold that thought.” Tina left Sadie to enjoy her coffee and pastry while she made the rounds, refilling guest’s coffee cups and thanking a smiling young couple who turned in their room key.

  “Honeymooners, those two.” Tina said as she returned to Sadie’s table. “So sweet. I remember those days. Seems like a long time ago, though. Now...well, you know how it is with Stefano. Seems we always
believe it will last forever when we start out.”

  “I think Stefano still cares for you, Tina,” Sadie said. “More than you think. He seemed sincerely worried about you when I ran into him at The Grapevine the other day.”

  “Don’t be fooled. He’s a very good actor; he’s skilled at creating false impressions. You haven’t met the person I know when no one else is around. He can’t be trusted.”

  Before Sadie could push for more information about Stefano’s theatrical abilities, Tina needed to return to the registration desk to help another guest check out. Sadie wondered if she’d fallen for Stefano’s acting ability when he’d pleaded for Sadie to help Tina. He’d seemed sincere, but could what seemed like sincerity have been a cover for something else?

  The inner workings of the Tremiato family were complex and confusing. From what Sadie had observed, any one of them might be capable of murder. At least capable of having a motive. The question was which one? And why?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The trip back to San Francisco was uneventful, other than the annoying traffic that accompanied a Monday morning southbound trip on the 101. A Sunday return would have been easier, but the extra night at The Vintage Vine had been worth it. Not only had it given Sadie a chance to visit with the family members again, but she had been there to witness the unusual behavior of the supposed Mr. Collins. There wasn’t a chance in the world that he was the elderly guest he posed as. But why the disguise? And what was he looking to accomplish that involved the inn, or more likely, Tina?

  Amber was behind the counter when Sadie arrived at Flair. A shallow brown shipping carton sat open, bright fabric flowing over one edge.

  “Ah, I see the silk scarves arrived,” Sadie said. She paused to lift one out of the box, admiring a dazzling abstract pattern in purple and red. “Perfect for the Red Hat Society customers.”