Decanting a Murder

by Nadine Nettmann

  “Katie, you made it,” said Bill, as he stood near the kitchen.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” I stopped in front of him.

  “You missed inventory. Everything okay?” He raised his eyebrows, his brown eyes deep with concern.

  I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Something came up with Tessa and I had to handle it. Darius covered for me, right?”

  “Yes, he was here. But I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Yeah,” I said as I ignored the fact that my car was damaged and my nerves were rattled. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you still thinking about the test?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Okay.” Bill paused. “Even if you fall off the horse once, doesn’t mean you can’t get back on. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t pass. You’ll pass next time.”

  I sighed. “Thanks.”

  Bill leaned on the partition that divided the restaurant into two main sections. “Hey, how was Frontier last night? Which wines did you try?” His mouth formed a half smile. “Did they make you sign an NDA?”

  “Hasn’t the news…” I stopped as I remembered the secrecy that surrounded Frontier Winery. Even the sheriff had managed to keep it out of the media. “No NDA.” I shifted my feet. “The experience was interesting to say the least.”

  “I look forward to hearing all about it. I’m going to assume they brought out some of their prized wines from over the years.”

  “Yes, they did. But there was a lot going on.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll fill you in as soon I get everything figured out.”

  Bill nodded. “Now get to work. We have two hundred covers tonight.”

  I saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  I headed to the time clock, my posture straightening as I adapted a work zone attitude and started my pre-shift duties. When five o’clock rolled around, I waited near the bar as the main doors of the restaurant opened.

  “Inventory sucks,” said Darius as he arrived at my side.

  “Yeah, not exactly the most fun. Thanks for covering.”

  Darius shrugged. “It’s fine. Did you bring my Oban?”

  “It’s coming. I didn’t have a chance to get it today.”

  “Don’t flake on me.”

  “I won’t.”

  He leaned on the bar. “Hey, I heard about the test. Bummer.”

  “I know, right?”

  “I think the next one’s in Texas. Means you’ll have to fly this time.”

  “Maybe.” My eyes drifted across the bottles of wine. “I don’t know yet.”

  The host motioned to me. “We have a walk-in asking about the wine list. I sat him at table forty-two.”

  I glanced through the restaurant to a gentleman at table forty-

  two, a corner booth. “Gotta go.”

  “Yep,” said Darius. “The work games have begun.”

  I smoothed out my jacket, adjusted my collar, and approached the table.

  “Good evening, welcome to Trentino.” I stopped in the middle of my speech. “Seb?” Seb’s familiar face stared back at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, huh.” Seb paused as his eyes darted back and forth. “I didn’t know you worked here.” He looked around nervously. “I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”

  “It’s a long drive from the winery.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. But I’ve heard a lot about this place and figured I should check it out. It has a good reputation, huh.” He drummed his fingers on the table as his focus shifted from me to the restaurant and back again.

  “Wait, what kind of car do you drive?”

  Seb squinted his eyes. “Huh? A blue Ford Escort.”

  “And it’s outside?”

  “With valet. Why?”

  “Who drives a black truck?”

  “Huh? A black truck? Um, I have no idea.”

  “Never mind.” I stood up straighter. “Did you have a question about the wine list or do you want to wait to order until your guest arrives?”

  “Oh, um, no. Let me look.” Seb picked up the wine menu from the table and skimmed the list. “I’ll take the Windjammer Chardonnay, 2014. A glass.”

  “Excellent choice. I’ll be right back.” I headed to the bar and poured a glass of the golden wine. I placed it on the tray held firmly in my left hand and returned to the table.

  I stood to the right of Seb and put the glass down in front of him. “Is there anything else I can get you at the moment or should I come back when your guest is here?”

  “Actually, since you’re here, huh.” Seb looked over his shoulder and then back at me. “And we’re alone, huh, there’s something I should probably tell you.” He lowered his voice. “It’s about Tessa.”

  An elderly gentleman at a nearby table of four motioned to me.

  “Hold on, let me take care of this other table and I’ll be right back.” I approached the table and went through my normal greeting a little quicker than usual. I explained the wines on the list, answered questions, and took four drink orders. I walked to the bar and filled my tray with three glasses of Cabernet and one glass of whisky.

  My eyes flicked up to Seb as I approached the table with their drink orders. He didn’t look at the menu, like most guests who arrive prior to their date, but instead watched my every move. My hand shook and a glass on my tray wobbled and fell over. I never spilled a tray. Ever.

  Get it together, I reminded myself as I returned to the bar. I cleaned the tray, wiped down the other glasses, and refilled the glass of Cabernet.

  I focused on the tray as I delivered it to the waiting table. My eyes remained only on the guests as I quietly and calmly placed a glass in front of each of them. “Is there anything else you need at this time?”

  “This is fine,” said the gentleman as he raised his whisky glass for a taste.

  I stepped back and watched the group for a second before I returned to Seb’s table. The seat across from him was still empty.

  “What were you saying about Tessa?” I stood across from him, my eyes monitoring the door of the restaurant.

  “Can you talk? You have time, huh?”

  Six guests entered through the front door and waited at the host stand.

  “I only have a few seconds. It gets busy in here very quickly.”

  “That’s okay. I want you to know”—his fingers tapped on the table—“that your friend might not have been on the up and up, if you know what I mean, huh.”

  “What?”

  “I know you’re close to Tessa, but, um, I don’t know if you know your friend as well as you think, huh. She wasn’t exactly a straight shooter.”

  “Seb, I only have a few more seconds, so what are you trying to say?” I held my notepad up to look as though I was taking an order. “Tessa is my best friend. I know she’s not a murderer.”

  “I know, I know.” His fingers tapped, their beat increasing. “But she is a thief. There’s been money, huh … missing.”

  “What money?”

  “From the winery accounts. For a while now. Someone’s been taking money from them, huh. I think you should take a good look at Tessa. You might be surprised at what you find.”

  “Seb, please. I’m not going to buy that.”

  “No, it’s the truth, huh. Ask Detective Dean to look into it. She’s been taking money. Maybe she’s in debt? I don’t know. But, um, I thought you should know. If she goes down, I don’t want you to go down, too.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Listen, um, look into it.”

  “Okay. I’ll look into it.” I noticed Bill looking in my direction. “I have to do my rounds, I’ll be back.”

  “One more thing, huh?” He looked up at me, his face solemn. “Um, I know you’re looking into everything, um, abo
ut last night. But I know something that others don’t.”

  “About the accounts?”

  “No, about…” The tapping of his fingers got louder. “About Mark.”

  I glanced at the other tables. “Tell me in a few seconds, I have to go. I’ll be right back.”

  “No, wait. Listen. Mark wasn’t, huh, faithful.”

  “Oh, that makes sense, from what Lisa said.”

  Seb’s eyebrows went up. The tapping stopped. “What Lisa said?”

  “I think so. It’s all getting muddled right now. I have to go grab this table. I’ll be back.”

  “Huh. I’m surprised Lisa said something.”

  I paused before leaving his table. “Why?”

  “Because Mark was having an affair with Lisa.”

  Bill coughed and I looked up. “Give me five minutes,” I said to Seb. “I want to hear more.”

  Seb stared at me but didn’t reply.

  I visited the rest of the tables in my section, taking and delivering drink orders as I went. I was eager to get back to Seb, but I didn’t want to spill again, so every movement I made was calm and calculated.

  The fourth table had multiple questions about the wine list. If the circumstances had been different, I would have treasured questions of that nature, providing details about each wine and sharing its story. Instead, dread filled me after my short answers while I waited to be asked another question or be dismissed.

  The table decided on a bottle of Champagne and I retrieved it from the refrigerated wine cellar, presented the bottle, opened it silently as I controlled the pop, and poured it for each guest. I placed the bottle into the ice bucket, covered it with a towel, and returned to Seb’s table. His seat was vacant and a twenty-dollar bill was stuck under the empty glass of wine. I looked toward the front of the restaurant, but Seb was gone.

  sixteen

  pairing suggestion: chinon—chinon, france

  Made from the Cabernet Franc grape,

  it pairs well with most dishes and situations.

  -

  I had trouble concentrating during the rest of my shift as my mind was focused on Seb’s comments. I had noticed Tessa’s brand-new shoes at the winery and her apartment coffee table seemed to be nicer than the one I had seen on my previous visit.

  Things had been rough financially before Tessa started the job at Frontier. Although I didn’t know how well her wine club position paid, I wasn’t sure it was enough to pay off her mounting credit cards. Perhaps the wine smuggling with Mark gave her kickbacks, some cash under the table. I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t shake it from my mind.

  When the last two tables in my section had full glasses of wine, I stepped to the back of the restaurant and called Tessa’s cell phone. It rang several times and went to her voicemail.

  I cancelled the call and returned to the dining area. The patrons at my tables were happily drinking and eating. I waited a few moments and called again. It rang and went to voicemail.

  The only time Tessa didn’t pick up her phone was when she was in a movie theatre or out of cell range. She didn’t have a car since it was still at the lodge and I hadn’t given her a ride yet to get it. She should be keeping a low profile at her apartment where she had full reception.

  I waited a few more minutes in case Tessa was in the shower and tried again. No answer.

  The minutes crawled by until the two last tables finished their meals and paid the checks. It was 11:37 p.m. by the time I clocked out and got into my car. I tried Tessa’s phone again with no luck. A sinking feeling flooded over me. I drove past the turn for my apartment and started the drive to Napa, my foot pressing harder on the gas pedal than legally allowed.

  The streets were relatively empty, only a few passing cars with people on their way home from dinner or parties, and within forty minutes I was in the city of Napa, home to over 75,000 residents, including Tessa.

  I parked in her apartment’s lot and ran up the stairs of her building. “Tessa?” I knocked. “Are you there? Wake up.”

  No answer.

  I knocked again. “Tessa, answer the door.” There was a tremor in my voice.

  The window next to Tessa’s apartment opened. “She’s not there.”

  “Where is she?”

  The streetlight illuminated a teenager with dark hair sitting in the window, the blue glow of a television screen behind her. “I heard her saying she was going to Matteo’s.”

  “Matteo’s?”

  “Head to Lincoln. You’ll see the restaurant once you turn right, about a block away.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries.” The window closed shut, the girl watching me as I headed down the stairs.

  I left my Jeep in the parking lot and walked toward the main drag, the moon casting a soft silvery light, coating the hedges with a colorless shroud. When I reached Lincoln, I turned right, a few cars passing as I walked.

  For the time of night, Matteo’s was anything but quiet. People flowed in and out, and I waited for a couple in their midthirties to exit, catching the door before it closed behind them. A roar of noise greeted me as I entered the restaurant. Nearly every table was occupied and the bar was packed at least three people deep at every section.

  A jazz band played music from the corner and the host, wearing horn-rimmed glasses, stood at the dais, a waterfall cascading down the wall behind him. I scanned the crowd for Tessa’s familiar blond curls.

  It didn’t take me long.

  Tessa stood on a table in the corner of the bar, dancing to the music as three guys at the table watched her every move. The sway of her dance was a clear indication that she was having a good time and an even clearer indication that she was inebriated.

  I made my way through the crowd and reached Tessa in the middle of a drunken ballet turn on the table.

  “Tessa,” I yelled. “Tessa, what are you doing?”

  Tessa looked down at me and opened her arms. “Katie, you came!” she said in a slurred voice. “Come on, get up on the table with me, we’re having a party!”

  “Tessa, get down from there.”

  “No, I like being up here.”

  I pulled Tessa’s arm. With her drunken sway, Tessa collapsed on the legs of a man sitting in the booth, her elbow narrowly missing the face of the gentleman next to him.

  “Aw, you’re no fun. You took away my stage.” Tessa turned to the man whose lap she occupied. “And you’re comfy. Have we met? I’m Tessa.”

  “Tessa, this is ridiculous!” I snapped. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m having fun. Living it up. Enjoying the moment.” Tessa closed her eyes. “Wait, now I’m a little tired.”

  The man moved from underneath her and Tessa sank into the seat, her head falling back against the cushioned booth.

  “Tessa, come on, get up. I’m taking you home.”

  “No, I want to stay. The night is young.”

  “It’s nearly one o’clock.”

  “And there’s more to drink, right, boys?” Tessa opened her eyes and looked at the three men at the table, but their attention had turned to a nearby girl in a short red dress.

  “I can’t believe this,” I whispered loudly in her ear. “Your boss was killed last night and here you are partying? Do you have any idea how that looks?”

  Tessa looked up at me. “I think it looks like a party. I’m celebrating life.”

  “You look guilty. Come on, I’m taking you home.” I stood and pulled Tessa’s limp body from the booth. “Let’s go. Stand up.”

  “Do you ladies need help?” said a young man from a nearby table. “Can I call you a cab?”

  “No, we’re fine.” I heaved Tessa up to a standing position. “The walk will do her good.” I put my arm around Tessa’s waist and pulled her close to me. “Walk with me, Tessa. Keep your head up. Let’s le
ave with some dignity.”

  Tessa lifted her head and we made it to the door, which someone opened for us.

  The cold night air was a blast of sobriety for Tessa and she managed to propel herself forward as we made our way down the street. The walk wasn’t pretty, similar to a newborn giraffe with her legs going in every direction, but at least she was moving. My arm ached from the weight of holding her up, but I focused on getting her home.

  The stairs up to her apartment turned out to be a little more tricky. Tessa fell on the first step and I caught her right before her face hit the concrete edge.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Tessa sat on the step, catching her breath. “I’d be better if you’d left me there. I was having fun.”

  “I’m looking after you.”

  “No, you’re ruining the fun,” Tessa slurred. “Hey, is that your car? What did you do?”

  I glanced at the damaged driver’s side of my Jeep. “Yeah, about that…”

  “Katie,” Tessa interrupted, “you should drive better.”

  “Okay, thank you. Come on, stand back up.”

  Using a pathetic amount of effort, Tessa slowly stood up. I put my arm around her waist and we took the stairs together, turning along the walkway when we reached the top.

  I leaned Tessa against her door. “Tessa, where’s your key?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your key? To your apartment.”

  The window next to the apartment opened and once again the neighbor put her face against the screen. “She keeps it on her wrist. Like a bracelet.”

  “Thank you.” I reached for Tessa’s arm where I found a green curly bracelet with a gold key attached. I took off the bracelet and opened the door as Tessa slumped against me. “Almost there. Just a few more feet.”

  Tessa took two steps inside and collapsed cross-legged on the floor.

  “Nope, not yet. Come on, let’s get you to the couch.” I grabbed Tessa under her arms. The memory of Jeff doing the same for Mark flashed through my mind. I shook the image out of my head and tried again, this time getting one arm under her shoulder and the other arm under her knees, lifting her up like a baby.