“C’mon, Zara…”
That was the second time in an hour he’d called me by my name. And while I insisted it was something everyone do, I couldn’t help but notice something unusual in his tone. It was almost as if saying my name somehow made him uncomfortable, like it was something he needed to practice in order to get it right.
“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all you’ve got? C’mon Daniel...”
“What do you want me to say?” He asked. “I’ve explained my situation… I can’t just bring the police here, if anyone found out…”
I know I shouldn’t have given in so easily, but over the last few minutes I’d come to see Daniel in a slightly different light. We were alike in so many ways. Having both grown up in such a demanding industry, then handed leadership positions before we believed we were truly ready. I felt for him in a way I hadn’t expected.
I stood silently beside him, studying the photos on the wall and the bottles on the floor. Obviously whoever brought these things here knew Daniel would tell me, but why? What was the goal here? Was Daniel meant to warn me? And if so how would that help whoever was behind this in getting what they want?
“Fine.” I said. “We won’t tell the police… at least, not yet.”
“Thank you.” He said with a smile. “That means the world to me.”
“You’re welcome.” I said. “Now I need to go.”
“Wait.” He held out his arm. “I was wondering… before you go. Can you do me one other favor?”
“What would that be?” I replied.
“My Wine Tree.” He said with a sweet smile. “It still needs decorating, and well… I’d love a woman’s touch. I’ll make hot cocoa.”
The next hour flew by in a world of hot cocoa and shimmering blue and gold wine themed ornaments. I learned a lot about Daniel Haddish and even managed to get myself in a heated argument over the pros and cons of sparkling wine. It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, sure. But it had its place just like everything else.
Sparkling beverages felt more celebratory than most other beverages, they always had. Maybe it was the time honored tradition of popping a bottle on New Years Eve, or at a wedding that helped cement those feelings in my mind, I couldn’t be sure. Daniel Haddish however, wasn’t a fan of anything sparkling.
“So…” I said, placing the last ornament on the tree. “We have a deal?”
“Deal.” He smiled. “Come tomorrow morning, we’re a team. We’re going to figure this thing out together.”
It wasn’t as if I set out to get his help or anything, but if he was telling the truth and he had walked into his home to find my wine and all of those photos then he was now just as involved as I was. And maybe the old saying was right, maybe two heads would turn out to be better than one.
“See you tomorrow.” I said, closing the door behind me.
“Are you serious?” Shelly said.
“Why on earth would I make that up?” I asked. “Why else would I drive to your house in the middle of the night? I’m telling you, it’s true.”
“Who would do that?” She asked. “You’d think it someone had been following you around snapping photos you’d have noticed…”
“You’d think.” I said. “But lately I’ve just been so preoccupied…”
“But, seriously… hot cocoa with Daniel Haddish… up all night decorating a Wine Tree… who is this girl?” Shelly laughed.
“I don’t know.” I said. “He was friendly… it was nice.”
“Aside from the crime scene element, right?”
“Aside from that…” I smiled back. “But you know what else is strange?”
“What’s that?” She asked.
“The whole thing about the contest being held at my vineyard. None of it makes sense. Apparently everyone thinks I requested it. And more than that, it was originally scheduled for Glass Rose…”
“That is odd.” She said. “Did you talk to Aiden Riley about it? He does all the planning for the club.”
“No.” I said. “He was pretty flustered about Mr. Ford.”
“Well… if anyone would have information it would be him. Seeing as how he’s one of the judges and the corkmaster of the club.”
“Yeah.” I replied. “I should really ask him about it.”
It was nice, just sitting around and having a little girl time with my best friend. With all of the drama that had been unfolding in the last few days I hadn’t really taken much time to ask Shelly about herself, which was something I always made sure to do. I’d never been the kind of friend that could make things all about me, that kind of thing never felt right. After all, everyone has a life and its unfair to pretend one matters more than the other.
“What about you?” I asked. “Did you ever have dinner with that guy?”
“The anesthesiologist?” She asked. “That was like two weeks ago.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…” She replied.
“I’m sorry.” I said. “I meant to ask you about it.”
“Oh honey…” She smiled at me. “That’s okay, with everything you’ve got going on I’m surprised you remembered at all.”
“Still.” I said. “I want to know…”
“It was nice.” She said. “He has these beautiful blue eyes. He was a sweet guy. He knows nothing about wine though. Like… nothing.”
“Aww.” I said. “That’s cute.”
“You should have seen him trying to order a bottle for dinner… I wanted to chime in and help him, but it was so cute seeing him look them over.”
“What did he end up selecting?”
“A merlot.” She said. “It was actually quite nice.”
“See.” I said. “Maybe he knows more than you think.”
“No.” She chuckled. “He doesn’t…”
Chapter Sixteen
Hillside Grove Drug and Sundries was a small place, with only about twelve aisles, but it was the only grocery store in town and even if it wasn’t I probably would have preferred it anyway. The whole place reminded me of an old fashioned mom & pop establishment. Not to mention it had a still functioning soda fountain.
“Root beer float.” I said, taking a seat at the small bar.
Even though I almost never actually got them, I loved root beer floats. They had always been among my favorite treats. There was just something so lovely about the way the dark root beer mixed with the creamy softness of pure vanilla ice cream. Many the time I’d considered trying to recreate the feeling with a rich red wine, but I always stopped short of actually doing it.
“Yes ma’am.” He said, popping the top from the glass bottle.
My weekly dinner with my aunt was only a few hours away and I’d stopped by the store to grab a cake, nothing big, just something to finish the meal. I always tried my best to bring something to dinner if I was invited, even if it was just a small family thing. Traditionally I’d have brought a bottle of wine, but I knew my aunt well enough to know she’d already have selected the perfect vintage to compliment whatever she was cooking up.
“Here you go.” He said, sliding the tall glass across the bar.
“Thank you.” I replied, picking up a long handle spoon, and scooping up a small bit of ice cream.
Sweet music piped through the stores audio system, filling the air with a bright and jaunty melody. After only a few minutes I found my feet bobbing along with the music as they hung from the old-fashioned stool. I had plenty on my plate to keep me worried, don’t get me wrong. But even in times of great stress people needed to escape the troubles of their heads, even if only for a moment.
Creamy sweet vanilla filled my mouth, washing across my tongue and sending cool sensations up my cheeks. I remembered sitting in that same stool so many years ago as my mother sat across from me, telling me stories about fantastical creatures and age-old legends. There was a time, long ago when those kinds of things always intrigued me, but after growing up a bit and finding my friends I found less time for stor
ies and more time for things like dances and long phone calls about nothing.
It never occurred to me back then, but I bet watching me grow up had to be hard for my mother. Not that she wasn’t proud of me, in fact, she always made sure to tell me she was. It’s just that… for a parent, watching your child become a new person had to be a mixed bag. Sure, you were happy to see them gain friends and become their own person, but at the same time they were leaving you behind.
“Shame about those two men and that poisoned wine…” The gentleman behind the soda bar said.
He was an older man, with white hair and a kind smile. His eyes were blue, but not the bright blue you usually see. There was something more tired in them, as though the color faded in a way only time could be responsible for.
“Yes.” I said. “It was horrible.”
“You’re the Myers girl.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “The one who came back.”
“Yes…”
“They say your wine is poison.” He said. “It isn’t…”
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“My wife drinks nothing but Midnight wine. She’s still alive…”
“I’m glad.” I said. “I don’t think it’s my wine either.”
“Can’t be.” He said.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“I’ve known Charley Roberts for years.” He handed me a napkin. “He didn’t drink wine. Hated the stuff… he always had.”
I was sure he didn’t know what he was talking about. Besides there were tons of people that spent years drinking wine by the barrel-full, leaving their family and friends none the wiser. Charley Roberts came to my vineyard requesting a specific thing, he had to drink wine, right? Why else would he be there?
“Maybe.” I said. “But he was surely looking for a wine on the day he died.”
“Maybe it was a gift.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But Charley hated the stuff. Trust me on that, little lady.”
After finishing my soda I slowly made my way to the bakery section of the small store. With no idea what Aunt Hannah would be cooking I’d have to rely on my own instincts to select a dessert for the night. Not that it would matter much, we’d likely end up eating only a little bit before uncorking a bottle of sweet red.
I looked over the small selection of cakes Hillside Grove Drug & Sundries had to offer, for the most part they were pretty standard. Red Velvet, Carrot, Chocolate and Vanilla made up most of the small display case. But then, from the corner of my eye I spotted something I hadn’t seen in a while.
“Is that Hummingbird Cake?” I asked the lady behind the counter.
“Why yes.” She smiled. “Quite delicious too…”
I hadn’t eaten a Hummingbird Cake since Taking a road trip down the east coast with a couple of girlfriends a few months after moving to New York. I don’t remember exactly where I’d gotten it, but it was somewhere in South Carolina. Since then I’d never even seen the cake, though I had thought about it once in a while.
“Great.” I said. “I’ll take it.”
“Wise choice.” She smiled, then pulled it out and began boxing it up.
As I scooped up the heavy box and placed it in my shopping cart I heard a familiar voice coming from the other side of the aisle. I stood still for a moment, pretending to read the ingredients of a box of rice as I listened. For a second I thought it was Shelly but the more I listened the less it sounded like my best friend.
I quickly turned my cart toward the back of the store, getting myself as far away as I could before popping my head around and trying to catch a glimpse of their faces. I recognized them immediately. It was the woman I’d seen crying in the back room of the wine club, and she was talking to that waitress, the one from Rizzy’s.
I was too far away to hear, but I knew whatever they were talking about must have been important because of how intensely they were looking at one another. They kept their heads tilted down, jetting their eyes back and forth to see if anyone was close enough to hear. That, combined with the sudden and animated hand motions only made the conversation seem even more intense.
I wanted to keep them within sight while managing to stay far enough away not to be noticed. That made actually hearing anything they said impossible though, but I guess a girl can’t have it all, right? I watched them talk for a few more minutes as they went slowly down each aisle, grabbing things here and there.
Only a few minutes later they’d paid for their items and were out the door. Quickly throwing my cake up on the counter and swiping my card I followed behind them. I was surprised to see them both get into the same car, though honestly I don’t know why. I knew I needed to follow them, to see where they were going.
Chapter Seventeen
I wasn’t sure what either of the two women from the grocery store had to do with anything. And I know I’d promised Daniel we would work together but I didn’t have time to try and find him. I needed to chase this lead while it was still hot.
I’d seen a million detective movies in my day and each time someone was followed I always told myself that if ever the day came when I was being followed I would absolutely notice. I just never imagined I’d be on the other end of that scenario, that I would be the one doing the following.
It was midevening and the sky was beginning to grow dark. The cold California spring air blew through my open windows, doing its best to remind me of Daniel and his beautiful black convertible. He should have been there with me, we’d made a deal and I had never been the type to go back on my word. Besides, it might be nice to have a little help, ya know… since I was completely out of my element with this whole Magnum P.I. thing I suddenly seemed to have going on.
We made our way through the winding roads and rolling hills of Mendocino County as the sun finally melted away behind one of the many glorious mountain vistas stretching out in front of me. I followed the two for what seemed like forever until finally we reached the very edge of what was considered to be wine country.
I watched the small SUV turn down an overgrown gravel drive that I recognized as Lost Hope Vineyards, one of the oldest wineries in Mendocino County. Lost Hope Vineyards had been shut down for some time. It was now nothing more than a group of defunct buildings, all of which had fallen into disrepair after the family left California.
I couldn’t imagine what the two women would be doing going to such a place at night, or any other time of day for that matter. There was nothing there, nothing more than forgotten grapes and probably a few empty bottles. Continuing past the driveway I traveled a short distance down the two lane road, then pulled off into a grassy field.
I quickly scurried back up a small hill and, just as I’d done before at Glass Rose I tried my best to get close without being seen. That however proved to be a little more difficult this time around due to the geographic layout of this particular piece of land. And as it turned out, as close as I could get was still pretty far away.
Where’s a fire escape when you need one…
I perched myself just under the crescent of the closest hill and began scanning the vineyard for the two women. It only took a few minutes of looking for me to spot them. They were walking toward what used to be vine groves, each one holding a flashlight, among a few other things I couldn’t really make out.
They eventually came to a stop in the middle of the groves and after what looked like a small discussion began bending down and digging at the ground.
“What are they doing…” I muttered to myself.
The truth was, I had no idea what they were up to. From the looks of it they were trying to find something, something that seemed to have been buried in an abandoned wine grove. That just didn’t make sense though, what could they possibly be looking for that they could find in such an odd place? And why now, why at night?
Lost Hope Vineyards sat in a trough, which was one of the many low points between the rolling peaks of Mendocino’s many valleys. It was surrounded by higher land on either side, which the more I tho
ught about it probably proved a bit problematic for winemaking. Perhaps that was the reason the vineyard failed in the first place. I couldn’t be sure.
Apparently the place had been abandoned for quite some time. Even in my earliest memories it always looked the same, forgotten and ignored, which was a rarity for the area. Land here was at a premium, it always had been, but it seemed something about this particular plot made it less than desirable.
But as I sat there and my ears began to adjust I realized there was at least one good element to the strange landscape. It seemed the low point acted as a sort of reservoir for sound, just as the low bottom of a glass did for the notes of wine, trapping it inside.
As I listened I was able to make out small pieces of conversation between the women as they continued to dig through the soil. I heard them mention the cheese shop, the wine club and even the town Wine Tree Trail. Grabbing my phone and snapping a few pictures only moments before my battery died. This all felt like Deja vu. I’d done this same thing when spying on Molly Haddish, hopefully though, this time it would end a little less dramatically.
Then, I heard something I wasn’t expecting at all… I heard them say the name of someone close to me. Hannah Sloan.
“Aunt Hannah…” I gasped.
What could they possibly want with my aunt? Why would two women digging up an abandoned grape vine be talking about my family? Just the sound of her name caused my heart to beat a mile a minute. I felt my body flood with adrenaline and my senses spike.
I wanted to jump up and make my presence known. To yell ’look at me’ and ask them what my aunt had to do with anything. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to fight my feelings and stay hidden. I was hoping to hear more, but it was no use. Almost as soon as they said her name the two women stood to their feet, dusted themselves off and headed for their SUV.
I followed suit, walking back to my car, opening the door and laying back on the seat. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. My aunts name...
“Oh my Gosh!” I yelled as the realization hit me.
Murder Before Moscato_A Vineyard Winery Culinary Cozy Mystery Page 7