“Lisa. That’s part of her job.”
“She does all the winery paperwork?”
“Sure, she takes care of that.”
“And you said that Lisa and Seb were dating?”
“They were.” Tessa coughed. “For a little while, at least. Although I don’t know if you could call it dating. It was more sleeping together.”
I stared at a crack in one of the blocks, the jagged line nearly separating it in two. “Do you know if Seb was in debt?”
“Katie,” Tessa sighed, “how would I know? That’s not exactly a hot topic of discussion in the break room.”
“What if he was stealing money and when you got blamed for Mark’s murder, he tried to blame you for the money as well?”
“You think so? That’s kind of a stretch.”
“Tessa, you said yourself that he was a jerk.”
“I didn’t think so until yesterday. I tell you, Katie, the whole weekend is starting to blur together and not because of alcohol.”
“Okay. We’re going to use some advice from my dad and treat the money and the murders as unrelated crimes. I think Mark’s murder and you being under suspicion for it gave Seb the perfect opportunity to blame you for the missing money.”
“You sound like your dad.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.” I sat down on the floor closest to Tessa’s cell, ignoring whatever filth or grime I might possibly be sitting in. “Tee, is there anything else you need to tell me? You’ve told me about the affair, but is there anything else? I just want to make sure.”
“No way, I’m being honest. One hundred percent honest.”
“Okay, good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s figure out who could have killed Seb. Did anyone have any animosity toward him? Or was upset at him?”
“No. Not that I can think of.”
“I think if we can figure out who killed him, that will lead us to who killed Mark.”
“You still think the murders are related?”
I nodded as my eyes traced the tile floor. “Yes, I do. We need to figure out who is trying to frame you. Actually, frame both of us. So we need to think.” I looked at my watch. “And we have all night.”
“This reminds me of…” Tessa trailed off. “Never mind.”
“I was thinking,” I started, “that this reminded me of when we were thirteen and stayed up all night talking about boys and eating Sour Patch Kids. I miss those times.”
“I do, too.” Tessa’s hand pushed through the bars in the hallway, her hand waving up and down as she spoke. “We need to do that again. Even if we’re both working a lot, we need to make time. I’m glad you’re back, Katie.”
“I never really left, Tee. You can tell me to leave all you want, but we’re family and that means we stick together.”
“I like that. But hey, how are we going to solve this from jail? We both know there’s no one to bail me out…” Her voice fell away.
I glanced down at the hallway, absent of movement. I knew what I needed to do. “I’ll make the call. He’ll be disappointed, but he’ll bail me out.”
“Are you really going to call your dad for bail? He’ll be pissed! His daughter in jail? What about your image?”
“Maybe it’s time to lose the perfect image. We both know it wasn’t true anyway. And besides, bad girls have more fun.”
“Yeah, we do.”
I took a deep breath and stretched my neck on both sides. “Okay. I’ll tell Dean I’m ready to make my call.”
When Dean returned, he opened my cell door. “Rules say I need to cuff you to take you to the phone, but I’m going to play the trust card and know that you won’t run. Right?”
“Only the guilty run.” I exited the cell, the scent of Dean’s aftershave floating in the air.
“Pay phone is there. You have five minutes. Do you know who you’re going to call?”
“Yep.” I picked up the phone and dialed zero to call collect. I had never called to ask for this type of help before, but sometimes you can’t figure out the story alone. Sometimes you need help.
The sound of metal sliding on the tile floor stirred me awake. A thick haze occupied my mind, as if I had gone straight to bed after too many bottles of wine. Or worse, a bottle of cheap tequila.
“What time is it?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes, the haze remaining as I glanced around the cell.
“Seven,” said Dean. “Breakfast time.” He pushed a tray under the bars. “Did you sleep okay?”
I looked down at the rough cotton pillow, its shape still intact from when I first arrived. “Perfect. Like a five-star hotel.” I reached for the tray and put it down on my lap as I sat on the mattress. “What is this?”
“Eggs and toast,” replied Dean as he walked to the next cell, the sound of metal again on the tile floor.
I pushed the meal around with my fork. The eggs didn’t move while the toast melted into itself. “Seriously?”
“It’s like rubber,” yelled Tessa from the next cell.
“Exactly.” I put the tray on the floor. “Tee, are you going to eat this stuff ?”
“Nope,” said Tessa. “I’m going to fit back into that little black dress from high school.”
Dean returned to the cell door. “I don’t mean to interrupt your breakfast, but your visitor is here.”
“Where is she?” said the familiar voice from down the hall.
I raced to the bars. “You came.”
Bill’s cheerful face appeared at the cell door. “Of course! My favorite wine taster needs to be bailed out of jail, where else would I be?”
“Thanks, Bill. I really appreciate it.”
“I would have come last night, but you said to wait till this morning.”
I motioned to the next cell. “I wanted to stay with Tessa.”
“You hungry?”
I glanced back at the uneaten eggs and toast on the tray. “Starved.”
“Jenny’s making breakfast back at the house. I gave her a quick summary of everything you said on the phone. She’s ready to give any legal advice you may need.”
Dean unlocked the door and I wrapped my arms around Bill. “Thanks so much. And I promise I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t need to pay me back, just don’t skip bail,” he laughed. “I want to get my money back, and I need you for work this week.”
“I promise I won’t get into any more trouble.” I stepped in front of Tessa’s cell. “I’ll be back. Remember what we talked about.”
Tessa’s hazel eyes met mine and she gave me a thumbs-up. “Thanks, friend.”
I gave her a thumbs-up back. “You’ll be out soon and we’ll go grab a burger.”
“Oh my God, that sounds so good! That’s so mean, though! I’m hungry now.”
“Sorry.” I paused. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Don’t be a slowpoke,” Tessa muttered as she sat back on the mattress.
Dean motioned for us to walk up the hall and we entered the front office.
Deputy Peters held up a large manila envelope. “We’re able to return your phone, which was in the car.” He emptied the envelope, my cell phone sliding onto the counter. “I’m sorry, but your car is still impounded as evidence.”
“Awesome. Can you repair the dents and paint it for me?” My comment was met by silence. “Sorry. Bill, can you drive me…”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
Dean stepped forward. “Be safe out there.”
“I will.” I touched his arm but avoided eye contact.
I knew all too well that once a wine is spoiled, nothing can make it better.
twenty-seven
pairing suggestion: malbec—mendoza, argentina
A velvety wine with high alcohol and bold fruit flavors.
-
Bill parked in the driveway of his white two-story house located in the Sea Cliff area of San Francisco. Several homes in the area had picturesque views of the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay and it appeared that Bill’s would be no different.
The front door opened and a tall woman with perfect posture stepped onto the porch, her flaxen hair pulled into a ponytail.
“That’s Jenny,” Bill said as he got out of the car. “I don’t think you two have met before.”
“No, I don’t think so.” I exited the car and smoothed out my sweater as she approached. I extended my hand to Jenny. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Jenny firmly shook my hand, the morning sun glinting off her black-rimmed eyeglasses. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through the last few days, but we’re going to get it sorted out. I’m sure Bill’s told you that even though I deal in family law, I’m certain I can help.”
“Yes, thank you.” I glanced at Bill. “Both of you. I really appreciate it.”
“Here, come in.”
I stepped inside the house, a smell of lavender and freshly baked bread in the air.
“Are you hungry?” Jenny motioned toward a doorway into the kitchen. “I’m almost done making eggs and waffles.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Would you like to shower first?”
I glanced in the hallway mirror, my face spotted with remnants of blood from the cut on my head and my hair sticky from the wine. “Yes, that would be great.”
“There’s a bathroom in here.” Jenny pointed to a bedroom off the hall. “I’ll be right back with a set of clothes you can borrow.”
“Thank you so much, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” said Bill as he chuckled. “Just be quick so we can all eat. I mean, come on, it’s waffles.”
I closed the door to the bathroom and took off my coat, small pieces of glass falling onto the floor. My hair shed more glass as I showered but by the time I was done, I felt like myself again.
I wrapped myself in a white towel and opened the bathroom door. As promised, Jenny had laid clothes on the bed, a pair of white pants and a black top. I dressed and tied back my wet hair before opening the door.
Jenny flipped an egg over in a pan as Bill stood across from her in the kitchen. She looked up and smiled at me. “Feel better?”
“Much. I don’t think there are even words.”
“Bill will show you to the dining room,” said Jenny. “I’ll be out with the food in a minute.”
“This way.” Bill led me through the kitchen to the dining room, the dark wood highlighted by the sun that streamed through the window. The top of the famous red bridge peaked through the fog in the distance.
I sat down at the table as Jenny entered the room and placed a plate of eggs and waffles in front of me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more hungry than I am right now.”
“When you’re finished, I’ll have you go over every detail from this weekend.” Jenny sat down, a yellow legal notepad and pen in her hand.
I nodded as I covered my waffle in syrup. I cut a piece and placed it in my mouth, the warm syrup flowing over my tongue. I closed my eyes. Breakfast had never tasted so good.
After eating a second waffle and two helpings of eggs, I spilled every single detail of the last four days. Bill listened intently as Jenny filled page after page of the notepad with black ink.
“And then I called you this morning.” I took a drink of orange juice.
“You poor thing,” said Jenny as she flipped through the eight pages filled with her notes, her eyes skimming the words. “That’s quite a weekend.”
“Seriously.”
Jenny read a few lines on the second page. “Don’t be concerned, I think everything will work out fine.”
“For me or for Tessa?”
Jenny gave me a warm smile. “For both.”
“She’s very good at her job,” said Bill. “She’s modest about her success, but she’s won many high-profile cases.” Bill’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t let the sweetness fool you, she’s a tiger in the courtroom.”
I nodded and leaned back in the chair as my eyes skimmed the room. A large grandfather clock stood next to a wooden cabinet with polished wineglasses hanging from the top section.
I pointed to the glasses and smiled. “It’s not even ten thirty. I guess it’s too early to drink.”
Bill laughed. “Are you kidding? After what you’ve been through? It’s not only allowed, it’s encouraged. Let me get a bottle from the wine fridge.” He disappeared through a side door.
“You’re his favorite taster in the group,” remarked Jenny. “He’s always impressed with your calls.”
“Thanks. But not good enough to pass the Certified Exam.”
Jenny waved it off. “I didn’t pass the bar the first time. Big deal.”
“So what happens next?”
Jenny held the notepad in her hand. “We need to narrow down the suspects. Your talk with Tessa last night was interesting. I think we’re almost there.” She stared out the window. “I agree that the two cases are separate.”
“The two murders?”
“No, the murders and the finances. It appears to me that Seb took advantage of the situation and used it as an opportunity to blame Tessa.”
“But why was he killed?”
“A few reasons. One”—Jenny counted on her fingers—“so he wouldn’t be able to tell the truth, that he had laid the blame on Tessa. Two, to put Tessa back under suspicion. You said she had been cleared in Mark’s murder that morning?”
“Yes.”
“This was a way to implicate her again.” Jenny adjusted her glasses and made another note.
“Why did someone want so badly to take her down? She didn’t do anything to deserve that.”
“You can’t take this personally, Katie. She was their opportunity.” Jenny flipped to the front page again.
Bill returned with a bottle in a brown paper bag.
“Seriously?” I leaned back in my chair. “I can’t just drink?”
He winked. “If I’m going to pour you a glass, I might as well make it interesting. Besides, this will prove you can taste under extreme moments of stress.”
I forced a smile. “Great. Thanks.”
Bill poured white wine into the glass in front of me.
“You know,” I remarked, “I’ve always thought certain white wines would go well with waffles.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Bill as he sat down across the table from me and picked up his phone, swiping to the timer. “Clock starts whenever you’re ready. And no ifs, right? Be certain with your calls.”
“Believe me, no ifs. Things are different now.” I reached for the glass and swirled it, the golden liquid climbing the sides in an effort to reach freedom, but never quite reaching the top. “This is a white wine with medium viscosity and a golden straw color.” I put the glass to my nose and sniffed. “Lemon.” But I stopped after the first word and held the glass in front of me, my eyes fixated on the wine.
“Stumped already?”
I looked at Bill, my eyes growing wider as the pieces came together in my mind. “No. I think I’ve figured out who the real murderer is and who tried to kill me last night in the wine cellar.”
“How can we help?” said Bill.
“Can I borrow your car?”
twenty-eight
pairing suggestion: bordeaux—bordeaux, france
A red wine constructed from a blend of five grapes:
Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, and Malbec.
-
I went over the last-minute advice from Jenny as I drove along I-80. I had one chance to get this right and I didn’t want to mess it up. When I
made the transition onto Highway 29, I dialed Dean’s number. His phone rang three times and went to voicemail.
“Dean, it’s Katie. I know who killed Mark and I know how to prove it. The answer is in the wine cellar. I’m heading to Frontier right now. I know you don’t believe me, but please meet me there. It will all make sense, I promise.”
I ended the call and dialed Vanessa’s number. It rang, was answered, and went dead. I tried again. This time the call went straight through to voicemail.
“Vanessa, it’s Katie. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I know who killed Mark. I’m on my way to Frontier. Meet me in the cellar so I can show you. I know you don’t trust me, but you can. I’m here to help.”
I put down the phone and gripped the wheel, my fingers turning white. I would be at Frontier Winery in about fifteen minutes. Everything was in place, I just needed it to work. If it didn’t, I could lose more than just my job.
A tractor blocked the road as I approached the winery and cars came from the other direction, making it impossible to pass. I sat back and waited as it crawled up the street.
When the tractor finally passed the driveway of Frontier, I was able to make the turn, stopping in front of the gates and pressing the call button. It rang once, twice, three times, and then went silent. I pressed it again, but the sequence repeated.
The gates were locked and I looked around, glancing at the stone wall that lined the property in both directions. I calculated the height of the wall and the height of Bill’s car. It could work. I moved the car alongside the wall, two of the four wheels on the small strip of grass that separated the property from the road.
I stepped up on the tire and onto the roof of the Lexus for two steps before jumping for the top of the wall. My forearms and elbows barely reached the top, my legs dangling below.
I hoisted my right leg up on the wall and pulled myself up, the round stones digging into my knees. I cringed at the damage I was doing to Jenny’s white pants, especially after she had been so helpful. I would buy her a new pair. And a bottle of wine.
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