Sadie winced at this added proof that Matteo was left out in the cold when it came to his family. She thought about how alone he must feel, how vulnerable.
She surveyed the display case while mulling over this new information.
“Look, I don’t need protecting,” Matteo said, reading Sadie’s thoughts.
“I’m not sure…” Sadie paused as a young woman entered, looked around and purchased an assortment of nuts and chews. While the customer continued to browse, Sadie stepped aside and moved to the end of the counter, where she picked up a culinary trade magazine. The publication amazed her with the multitude of merchandise, machinery and advertising opportunities displayed. She stopped flipping through pages when she came to an ad for a recent trade show. The blue and gold logo with a “C” in the center matched the pin in the photo Tina had shown her, the one found at the crime scene. Her hunch had been right. Matteo must have dropped the pin at the winery that night.
“I’m not sure it’s true that you don’t need protecting,” Sadie continued after the woman left, filing away the information about the pin’s origins for later analysis. “And, even if it is…Tina might think you do.”
Matteo laughed. “Are you implying Tina might think I killed him? That’s silly. Tina has known me since junior high. She would never think I’m capable of something that horrible.”
“I didn’t realize you’d known each other that long.” Sadie looked over a plate of caramel turtles while waiting for Matteo to spill more information.
“Yes,” Matteo said. “She moved to California from the Midwest when we were teenagers. Lived down the street from us. We even dated in high school for a while when I was a senior and she was a freshman.”
Sadie frowned. “Well, that puts a different perspective on things.”
“In what way?”
“In every way, Matteo.” Sadie sighed, losing her patience. “There’s obvious tension between Tina and Stefano, plus you and Tina seem pretty close, what with all the phone calls. Has Stefano shown signs of jealousy over the years?”
Matteo threw back his head and laughed. “You could say that. People talk about ‘sore losers.’ Stefano is a case study in ‘sore winners.’ Even though we both dated Tina, it was at different times. Obviously Stefano was the last man standing.”
“Standing at the altar, you mean,” Sadie clarified.
“Exactly. Tina could have married either one of us, but she chose Stefano.”
“Sounds like you resent that,” Sadie said.
“No, no, not at all. Tina is like a little sister to me now. I went off to culinary school, and Tina and Stefano spent the last three years of high school together. Stefano is the one who resents our closeness. He doesn’t understand that men and women can be friends without romance. But it made sense they would end up a couple. Besides, things worked out for the best. I have my business here in the city and she has her Tremiato Napa lifestyle. ”
“Maybe,” Sadie said. She didn’t comment on the wistful subtext she heard in Matteo’s voice. It occurred to her that whether or not he was disappointed in Tina’s choice of a husband, he must sometimes find his life lonely. “But the impression I get when I talk to Tina is that she’s tired of the family politics.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Matteo said. “Why do you think I’m here and not there?”
“To keep my chocolate supply constant?” Sadie smirked.
“That is my one and only reason,” Matteo grinned. “Speaking of which, are you in the market for anything this morning, or is this just an interrogation?”
“I believe I have a craving for a double vanilla crème – no, make that two, please.” Sadie placed several now-wrinkled dollar bills on the counter. After Matteo rang up the order and handed back her change, she returned to Flair.
* * *
As Sadie stepped into the store, she passed an exiting customer laden with several large Flair bags. Multiple purchases always set an optimistic tone for the day, and she smiled.
“Good sale?” Sadie asked Amber, who looked proud.
“Excellent sale,” Amber replied. “Black satin pants, a beaded tunic, two lace camisoles in different colors, a cashmere sweater from the new arrivals section and a matching necklace-bracelet set.”
“Nice job,” Sadie said as she tossed Amber a double vanilla crème. “See? You don’t even need me here.”
A sharp yip from the velvet pillow signaled Coco’s not-so-subtle demand for a treat, as well.
“Sorry, Coco,” Sadie said. “No chocolate for you. Here’s a nice, healthy treat,” she said as she dug into a pocket and pulled out a tiny biscuit. She patted Coco’s fuzzy head and scratched her behind the ears as the little dog ate, then turned back to Amber.
“It’s not true that you’re not needed here,” Amber laughed. “Someone has to pay to restock this merchandise when it sells. Oh, you had a phone call. I left a message on your desk.”
“Thanks. Anyone in particular?”
“No one I know. Just a woman who asked me to have you return her call. It’s a 707 area code, if that helps,” Amber said as Sadie headed for her office.
Sadie sat at her desk and picked up the message. As she already knew by the area code, it was from St. Vin, or somewhere in that general vicinity. It wasn’t a stretch to assume it could be from the Tremiato Winery. Yet, to her knowledge, no one in the Tremiato family knew how to contact her except Tina. When she first arrived in wine country, she had purposely not handed out business cards to avoid revealing her connection to Matteo. And once her field trip turned into a murder investigation, she was more focused on listening than on advertising her role as amateur sleuth or fashion guru. She dialed the number and leaned back in her chair.
“Detective Shafer speaking.”
The female detective’s voice took Sadie by surprise. She’d been expecting Stefano or even Angelo, who could have gotten her number from Tina. She took a breath.
“This is Sadie Kramer.” A straight business approach seemed best.
“Hello Ms. Kramer. Thank you so much for returning my call.” The sound of shuffling papers crinkled through the phone line. “I’m working on the Tremiato Winery case, and I’m calling guests who stayed at The Vintage Vine recently. I believe you were there a few nights ago?”
“Yes. The night before the murder.” Why waste time mincing words, Sadie figured. She already recognized the voice and name from the kitchen visit at the inn. Clearly the detectives had obtained a list of guests and contact information.
“We just have a few questions.” More paper shuffling.
“Yes, how can I help you?” Sadie shifted in her chair, her investigative instincts giving her that familiar sense that she was standing on tiptoe looking into a forbidden box full of delicious information.
“Actually, we were hoping you might be able to come in; otherwise we can do this on the phone,” Detective Shafer said. “You’re the only guest at the inn that night who was also at the winery the following morning. Anything you saw or heard might be useful.”
It occurred to Sadie for a fraction of a moment that the police might actually be considering her as a suspect. She shrugged off the thought. Even if she were a suspect, which was a ridiculous notion, listening to the detectives’ questions and watching their behavior in person might offer her several clues that could help her to figure out who the murderer could be.
“How did you know I was at the winery that morning?” Her question probably ramped up the detective’s suspicions, but Sadie was more interested in the answer than she was in proving her own innocence.
“Two of our uniforms said you came from the winery with platters of food.” Shafer smiled. “They were pretty excited about those appetizers. I’ve never seen two grown men drool so openly over a plate of bruschetta.”
Sadie’s mind wandered toward the chocolate-drizzled cream puffs that Luisa had included in the mountain of food. Maybe there were more cream puffs waiting for her.
She pau
sed. Although she’d just returned home the day before, she wasn’t at all tired, and her adventurous blood was boiling in her veins. She decided to go for it.
“I’d be glad to come up,” Sadie said. “Would tomorrow morning work? With traffic, I’m bound to get there late if I drive up today.
“Tomorrow morning is fine. We’ll see you then.” The line disconnected.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A typical San Francisco fog hovered around the Golden Gate Bridge the following morning and continued to surround Sadie as she headed up the 101 and into wine country. It weighed on her shoulders the way thoughts about the Tremiato case weighed on her mind. She fought to stay objective. It seemed impossible that Matteo could be guilty; nothing in her friendship all these years hinted at homicidal tendencies. But is it always the one you least suspect? And Tina was sweet…wasn’t she? Stefano was more difficult to pinpoint. He’d seemed genuinely concerned about Tina when he’d spoken to her at The Grapevine. Yet to hear Tina tell it, he wasn’t to be trusted. Although Sadie didn’t believe Stefano was setting up his own wife to take the blame for murder, she couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t up to something. As for the other Tremiatos, they were mostly unknown elements. Elena was focused on family and tradition, and her age and seeming frailty – in Sadie’s mind – put her out of the running as a murder suspect. Angelo seemed less inclined to indulge in the emotional turmoil than his brothers, but that outer calm might hide an inner drama queen. And Luisa was just a shadow of her mother. But maybe Luisa, tall and tough, was ready to emerge from the shadows; maybe Mr. Flanagan’s demise somehow freed Luisa from the trap of having little to no power in her family.
The police station sat two blocks north of The Grapevine, reminding Sadie she might need to stop at the quaint cafe for another salad after meeting with the detectives. Maybe even a slice of their cheddar sourdough bread. And a glass of Tremiato Chardonnay. And something for dessert. And…
Her thoughts refocused as she pulled into the station’s parking lot. Black and white patrol cars filled a row on one side, while spaces sat open for visitors on the other. She chose a spot, parked and turned off the engine. She pulled down the visor and glanced into the mirror, adjusting the jaunty peacock feather clip she’d snapped into her hair on impulse before she left that morning. She reached for her tote bag out of habit before remembering she’d left Coco with Amber. With all the attention Coco received from shop customers, the Yorkie would hardly miss Sadie. As much as she loved the dog, she’d move faster on her own this time, though Coco was a good listener. Still, she was determined to get as much information out of the trip as possible.
A low hum of activity greeted her as she entered the station. Wooden desks spread across an open room, reminding her of teachers’ desks from school days. A few uniformed officers worked at computer screens while others talked on phones and scribbled notes. A woman holding the hand of a young child stood at the information counter. Sadie settled into a folding metal chair and waited for the woman to finish her business.
“Ms. Kramer?”
Sadie startled, not expecting to hear her name before she announced herself to the information clerk. Looking up, she noted the young, athletic woman who had spoken. Even without a name tag, she recognized the voice as that of Detective Shafer. Somehow the short brown hair and piercing blue eyes caught her by surprise. The detective looked sturdier than her voice, an observation that didn’t even make sense as she took in the woman’s slender stature.
“Yes,” Sadie said, standing to shake the detective’s outstretched hand.
“I appreciate you coming in,” Detective Shafer said. “How was the drive?”
Sadie knew small talk when she heard it. It only served to heighten the feeling that this was a preface to a more serious talk. “Foggy, but fine.”
“Yes, a classic San Francisco morning.” Detective Shafer motioned to a hallway. “Why don’t you come on back to our office? We just have a few questions about what you might have seen or heard on your last visit.”
“Of course,” Sadie said, feeling oddly guilty at being directed through a police station. What on earth had possessed her to wear black and white stripes that day? She touched the feathers in her hair for luck.
She followed the detective to an interview room similar to those she’d seen on television. The plain, functional room was neither welcoming nor foreboding. Sadie looked around before sitting down at a center table, somehow disappointed not to see any donuts.
A second detective joined them, closing the door behind him. Again, the absence of a nametag didn’t keep Sadie from recognizing the officer as Detective Hudson. The tall, lanky man was identifiable as soon as he spoke. Sadie had always been good at remembering voices.
“Hello, Ms. Kramer, I’m Detective Hudson. Thank you for coming in.”
The introductions seemed so formal until Sadie reminded herself that, while she’d witnessed their visit at the inn, they didn’t know that. From their viewpoint, she was just someone on The Vintage Vine’s guest list. She had an unfair advantage, which made her feel somewhat relieved. She sat up straighter and waited for the questions to begin. Where were you the night of…
“Ms. Kramer...” Detective Hudson paced as he began.
“Please call me Sadie. Unless I’m in trouble. Then you can call me Ms. Kramer. But I’m not in trouble, right?” Holy marzipan, now I’m babbling.
“You’re not in any trouble, Ms. Kramer...Sadie.” Sadie recognized the same soft tone that Detective Shafer had used when questioning Tina at the inn. Even her expression was softer than her partner’s. Good cop, bad cop?
“We understand you run a shop next door to Cioccolata in San Francisco, Matteo’s shop.”
“Yes, that’s right. I have a fashion boutique called Flair.”
“And you just happened to be staying at The Vintage Vine the night of the murder, as well as attending the event at the Tremiato Winery the next morning. Was this a coincidence?” Detective Hudson stopped pacing and folded his arms across his chest as he asked the question.
Sadie leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table, her hands clasped. She’d seen this stance play out well on television. It was worth a try. “No, it wasn’t a coincidence. You already know my boutique is next door to Cioccolata. I didn’t just happen to be at his family’s winery. I came up because he’s a friend and I was concerned about him.”
“Why?” Detective Shafer’s voice was kinder.
“I was worried because I’d overheard an argument he was having on the phone the day before. I had gone over to buy some buttercreams because his are the best I’ve ever had. They’re even better than the ones you can get from…”
“What kind of argument?” Detective Hudson asked.
“I’m not sure. I couldn’t hear anything specific. But his tone of voice worried me.” Sadie paused, thinking. “Actually, I do remember one thing he said.”
“And what was that?”
“He said, ‘You need to back off.’”
“Back off? Back off from what?”
“I have no idea. That was the only thing I heard. I’d tell you if I’d heard more.” Sadie was a little puzzled by Detective Hudson’s attitude. The interview felt more like an interrogation. Maybe she should have done this on the phone. Driving fatigue was making her feel prickly.
“Do you think he was being threatened?” Detective Shafer asked.
“Or maybe he was the one doing the threatening.” Hudson interjected. “‘You need to back off’ sounds like a threat to me.”
“No,” Sadie said firmly. “That’s not something Matteo would do. It would be completely out of character for him.”
“Sometimes people go to extreme lengths when they’re in crisis,” Detective Shafer offered. “Maybe he got in over his head with the business deal somehow?”
“Or maybe you’re just covering up for him.” Again, Detective Hudson.
Sadie stood quickly and leaned forward, her ceramic zebra pen
dant landing on the desk with a crisp tap as she matched Detective Hudson’s imposing stance. If she knew what sounds zebras made, she was sure the noise would replace her voice when she opened her mouth to speak. “Detective, I took an extra day off work to drive up here in good faith in case your department needed my help. I do not understand why you seem to be accusing me of ‘aiding and abetting,’ or whatever you call it.”
Detective Shafer held up one hand to stop her partner from commenting any further and Sadie from blowing a gasket. “No one is accusing you of anything. And we’re grateful for your time. Aren’t we, Detective Hudson?”
“We are grateful, ma’am. We just get a little overzealous when someone is murdered in our town. Everyone’s a suspect.”
As Detective Hudson backed away from the table, Sadie sat back down. “I completely understand,” Sadie said. She clutched the zebra in one fist and thanked it silently.
“Just a few more questions, if that’s OK with you.”
“Of course.”
“Do you have any idea who Matteo was talking to during that phone call?”
Sadie shook her head. “No, not a clue.”
“We believe he was talking to the victim. His phone records show numerous calls between Matteo’s shop and the victim’s office over the last few months.”
“Wouldn’t that make sense if they were negotiating a business deal?”
“Yes, but those negotiations were already over. The Tremiatos had decided not to sell. Yet the calls continued.”
“I can’t help you there,” Sadie said. “Matteo never discussed any family matters with me. I always thought he was estranged from them.” “Never” stopped at recent days, but Sadie didn’t feel bound to reveal this, though she may have been more open if Detective Hudson had been less shrill.
“Other than the business dealings over the potential sale, it seems he was estranged. Did you know any of the other family members before coming up here this past weekend?”
A Flair for Chardonnay Page 9