by Jack Gibby
It was a needle he would just have to learn to thread.
Dunn silenced his phone as quickly as he could, leaping up from bed at the same time. Brooke remained sleeping, a gentle smile painted across her lips, unaware of his movements. Slipping some lounge pants on in a hurry, and remaining shirtless, Dunn exited the bedroom and answered his phone once he felt he was out of earshot of Brooke.
“Hey,” he said in a whisper into the phone.
“Dunn,” said Missy. “You having a good morning?”
“I don’t even know what day it is,” Dunn replied. Missy laughed.
“The life of a retired forty-something,” she said. “Get your shit together, buddy.”
“Yeah, I’m trying,” said Dunn. “What’s going on?” Dunn walked downstairs and made his way into the kitchen.
“Are you busy today?” Missy asked. “What am I saying? Of course you aren’t. I need you to get dressed in a suit and meet me at a winery up on Old Mission.”
“What?” said Dunn. “When?”
“Eleven,” said Missy. “Meet me at Chateau W. Laurent at eleven this morning.”
“Missy, I’m not sure I can make that happen on such short notice,” said Dunn. “I kind of… have company over here.”
“Oh,” Missy replied in a knowing flourish. “A lady caller.”
“Right,” said Dunn. He tried to grind some coffee beans quietly and it went about as well as one would expect. He tossed the grounds all into the machine and turned it on.
“Doesn’t that chick ever work?” said Missy. “Doesn’t she have a kid to take care of?”
“Yeah,” said Dunn. “Most of the time she works three twelve-hour days. And she splits custody with your friend Jake.”
“Right, right,” mused Missy. “Well, whatever. Send her away and come meet me. I’ve got us in at Laurent, via your friend Jake, and I need you to come along as backup. I need my computer hacker.”
“What time is it?” Dunn asked. He pulled his phone from his ear and looked into the screen to catch the time. As he read it, he heard Missy speak the time through the speaker.
“Just after eight-thirty,” she said. “Listen, dress nice. Dress like you belong. You don’t have to wear a tie or anything, but a nice jacket and pants. I want to find out some information over there, see what we can come up with.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dunn sensed movement. It was Brooke. She was coming down the stairs with a blithe expression, dressed in one of Dunn’s t-shirts and just her underwear.
“I’ve got to go,” he whispered to Missy.
“Will you be there?” Missy asked with urgency.
“Yes,” Dunn said in the same whisper. “Yes, goodbye.” Before Missy could say another word, Dunn hung up his phone and swiftly slid it down on the counter away from himself.
It was only just another second or two before Brooke walked in.
“That smells great,” said Brooke. She eased toward Dunn and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he said. Brooke smiled and kissed him again.
“I opened my eyes and you were nowhere to be found,” she said. “I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Dunn. “I didn’t remember until this morning that I had a meeting to get to today.”
“A meeting?” replied Brooke with a confused look. “You didn’t tell me about a meeting.”
“Right,” he said. “I forgot. But it’s with this company… it’s a potential consulting contract.”
“Consulting for what?”
“Information security,” Dunn said. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it over to Brooke. She took it, sipped, but kept her eyes on Dunn. “My old line of work.”
“I thought you were done with that,” said Brooke. “What’s the company?”
“A cherry farm,” said Dunn. “On Old Mission Peninsula.”
“A cherry farm needs IT security?” Brooke asked with a small laugh.
“Every business needs IT security,” Dunn confirmed. “It’s not a big deal or anything. It’s just something to keep me a bit occupied.”
“Oh,” said Brooke, her expression changing from skepticism to easy acceptance. “That’s a great idea. It could help get your mind off of things. Like we talked about last night.”
“Exactly,” said Dunn. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Well, that’s terrific,” said Brooke. “Though I am a little dismayed you disappeared from bed so quickly this morning. I was hoping for a little more action.” She grinned and offered him a tender touch.
“As much as I want that,” Dunn said, reluctantly declining her invitation by pushing her hand away. “I should really start getting ready. I can’t believe I forgot about this. I’m going to hop in the shower.”
“Maybe I could join you,” Brooke said, blue eyes aflame, a seductive curl to her lips. “I could help relax you before your big meeting.”
“That is—I—um…” Dunn stammered. Brooke laughed, reached up, and ruffled Dunn’s hair.
“You’re so cute,” she said. “Come on. Let me make your morning.”
Dunn picked up the mug of coffee he’d poured for himself and took a thoughtful drink. Brooke’s face looked like she was trying to hold in the excitement, her lips looking as though they were going to move from smiling to laughing.
Brooke then set her own coffee down on the counter and turned away. She began walking back toward the stairs, Dunn’s eyes on her as she moved. His view shifted down to her rear. Then, without actually feeling as though he’d made a decision, Dunn began to follow Brooke through the living room and up the stairs. His eyes remained focused on her backside.
Looking back at him, Brooke grinned. She could tell where he was staring and that she would get her way. Once she reached the top of the staircase, she pushed her underwear down her thighs and let them fall to her feet. She stepped out of them, leaving them where they lay. Dunn continued to follow her, as though he were entranced.
When Brooke arrived at the bathroom door, she reached down and pulled her t-shirt off in a delicate and deft movement. And as Dunn followed her into the bathroom, he undid the tie at the waist of his lounge pants and he let them fall.
Brooke leaned over and into the shower, twisting the handle and turning on the hot water. It wasn’t much longer before the bathroom grew steamy. The morning might take a bit longer than Dunn had anticipated.
Chapter Seven
When Dunn pulled up in the parking lot of Chateau W. Laurent he spotted Missy leaning on her car with her arms crossed, dressed in a blouse and pencil skirt. He parked next to her, yanked his phone from the cupholder, and slipped out of the driver side, slamming the door behind him. Approaching Missy, he offered her a big smile.
“I was getting a bit worried, Dunn,” said Missy, pushing herself off of her car and standing up straight.
“I’m right on time,” said Dunn, holding up his phone to display the time. “Eleven exactly.”
“Right on time is late,” countered Missy. “Now we don’t have time to get our game plan together.”
“If you wanted me to get here before eleven,” said Dunn. “You should have said that.” He let his phone fall into his suit jacket pocket.
“Let’s go,” said Missy, pushing him along and guiding him up toward the winery.
Chateau W. Laurent was much different than Emperor. Where Emperor had a distinctly modern feel, Laurent appeared Old World. It looked like something out of the French countryside. It was surrounded by sprawling vineyards, much like its competition on Leelanau, but the winery building’s aesthetic was rustic and wooden, rather than concrete with sharp lines.
“We’re meeting with Maria Pemberton,” said Missy. “She works in distribution over here. Jake said that she’s the one I’ll want to talk to. But we’re not really here for any of that.”
“We’re not?” asked Dunn, straightening his collar as he walked alongside Missy.
“N
o, of course not,” said Missy. “We’re here to investigate a murder.”
“Right, right,” Dunn said knowingly. Missy looked at him and shook her head.
“We’ll start with this Pemberton chick,” said Missy. “See what she knows about the land acquisition. And the victim.”
“What does this have to do with her job?” said Dunn, opening the front door of the winery for his partner.
“I don’t know,” said Missy. “We’ll figure out how to connect the dots once we sit down with her.”
Dunn and Missy sat next to one another on the front side of the desk. The office, much like the rest of the winery, had a nice, agrarian vibe to it. The walls were shiplap and were adorned with grape-themed artwork. Atop the desk were a half dozen wine bottles, displaying some of Laurent’s varieties. To one side of the office was a large window that looked out onto the vineyards lining the rolling hills outside.
“This office is way nicer than mine,” said Missy in a low, gruff tone. She looked around and took in the surroundings. “I’ve basically got a broom closet in the warehouse.”
“Well, you’re new at your job,” said Dunn. “Give it a few years.”
“Hmph,” Missy intoned.
Just then, Maria Pemberton walked into her office with a broad smile. She was an elegant older woman, her hair dyed blonde with the slightest hint of roots showing. She wore a pantsuit and heels. As she entered, both Dunn and Missy stood up.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” Maria said, approaching the two of them. “Hi, I’m Maria Pemberton.”
“Missy Marlowe,” said Missy, reaching out to shake Maria’s hand. “This is an associate of mine, Pete Sampras.” When Missy said this, Dunn shot her an incredulous look.
“Like the tennis player?” Maria asked with a confused smile, now shaking Dunn’s hand.
“Uh, yeah,” said Dunn. “Like the tennis player.”
“I’m sure you get that a lot,” Maria said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m glad to finally meet with someone from the Marlowe family. Why don’t you both have a seat?”
As Maria came around her desk to sit down, Dunn and Missy took their seats once again.
“Yes,” said Missy. “I know that things haven’t exactly been copasetic between our wineries for a while, but I’m here to help change that. Emperor is looking to build greater community among the wineries on the peninsulas so that we can take this thing we have going for us to an even greater audience.”
“I see,” said Maria, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. She looked to Dunn and smiled. Maria was about a decade or so older than Dunn, but it was obvious that she was already sweet on him.
“Now, I know you’ve recently expanded,” said Missy. Maria moved her eyes from Dunn to Missy. “You bought up another winery here on Old Mission and took over their vineyards, isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” said Maria. “Don’t pretend you aren’t doing the same thing. It’s only natural that we consolidate. Survival of the fittest, and all that.” She looked back to Dunn and gave him a grin. He smiled back.
“Well, it was kind of a secretive deal, was it not?” asked Missy. “It happened pretty fast.”
“That’s how real estate works,” said Maria. “But that’s not my department, dear,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly and talking down to Missy.
“Right,” said Missy, making as though she were backing off. “Did you know that a lawyer who worked on that deal ended up dead?”
“I didn’t,” said Maria. “My work is in distribution, which is what I thought you did as well. Isn’t that why we’re having this meeting? Am I wrong, Pete Sampras?”
“No,” said Dunn. “We’re here for distribution.” He looked over to Missy, trying to goad her back on topic with his eyes.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Missy. “Just casual banter.”
“Sure,” said Maria.
“But back to the topic at hand,” said Missy. “Emperor is looking to take Traverse City wine national. International, even. We want the region to be regarded as well as California wines. We want people to say ‘Grand Traverse Bay’ in the same breath as Napa or Sonoma.”
“I think that’s a noble pursuit,” said Maria. “But we have a ways to go.”
“No argument,” said Missy. “But we have a plan, and we’re looking to work closely with Cherry City Distribution to make this plan a reality. I know that Chateau W. Laurent works with other distributors, but we feel that Cherry City will be the company that can help introduce us to a much wider audience.”
“Yes, I’ve heard their pitches before,” said Maria. “But what do you think makes them so special? Why not Brookfield Food and Beverage? Why not Detroit Purveyors?”
“Cherry City is based in Traverse City,” countered Missy. “They have a vested interest in the community. They already distribute a good portion of wine and beer from the region, not to mention fruits and vegetables, hops, packaged goods. Emperor is willing to bet on the company and we hope you would consider doing so, as well.”
Maria paused for a moment and surveyed the two of them. Missy smiled. Dunn just tried to keep a poker face on. He wasn’t sure what was going on, or why he was even sitting there. But he’d been in plenty of meetings before that served no immediate purpose to him. Such was corporate life. He had gotten pretty good at looking interested and knowledgable.
“We’ll consider further talks,” said Maria. “I’ll speak with William and get his opinion on it.”
“That’s great,” said Missy. “Perhaps even Mr. Laurent and my father could get together sometime to get a better grasp on all of this.” Maria almost laughed.
“We’ll see,” she said. “For now, I think we’d rather forge a relationship with a young and pretty member of the Marlowe clan, someone with whom there isn’t so much bad blood.” Missy smiled.
“Yes, I understand,” said Missy.
“Well, thank you for stopping by,” said Maria. “I’ll call down to the tasting counter and let them know you’re here. Feel free to explore our varieties.”
“Thank you,” said Missy. She looked over to Dunn.
“Yes, thank you,” said Dunn. Maria grinned at him.
“Pete Sampras,” she said once again. “How wild. You know, you kind of look like him, too.”
Dunn didn’t look like Pete Sampras at all.
“I guess I do,” said Dunn.
“So is this what you do in the winery business?” Dunn asked, sipping a glass of white as he leaned against the tasting counter. “Drink wine at noon?”
“Pretty much,” said Missy, taking a sip herself. “If we didn’t partake, they would think we were rude.”
“I still don’t get why I needed to come along for this,” said Dunn. “And why I’m Pete Sampras now. What’s your thing with tennis players?”
“I don’t know,” said Missy. “It’s just the first name that comes to mind. I guess I like tennis players.”
“Older ones,” said Dunn. “You like retired tennis players. Seems like you like retired guys in general.” He smirked, and Missy lightly smacked his arm.
“Shut up, Dunn,” she said. “And I brought you along because we’re not done yet. We might need your skills.” Missy paused and took a drink. “Plus, you’re my partner. You can’t go on a mission without your partner.”
“You think this is a cop show or something?” said Dunn. “Think we’re on a stakeout?”
“I just want to get to the bottom of this,” said Missy.
“You know I lied to my girlfriend to come here,” said Dunn.
“Yeah?”
“I told her I had a meeting with some cherry orchard,” he went on between sips. “To do some IT consulting.”
“Why’d you do that?” Missy asked.
“Because she would think I was crazy if I told her what I was really doing,” said Dunn. “And because she’s not currently a fan of you.”
&nb
sp; “What?” Missy said, putting her glass down emphatically.
“I think she’s a little put off that I’m hanging out with a woman who’s fifteen years younger than me,” said Dunn. “I don’t think it sits well with her.”
“We’re not fifteen years apart,” Missy corrected. “It’s, like… thirteen. And whatever. We’re just friends. Tell your girlfriend to untwist her underpants. Tell her we’re on a mission.”
“I’m not going to tell her any of that,” said Dunn. “I’m going to keep this all a secret. Because this is nuts.” He finished off his wine, tilting his head back.
“Hey!” said Missy in a low exclamation, tugging on Dunn’s coat. “Look.”
Dunn followed Missy’s pointing finger across the room, landing on a man in a black suit. The man was vaguely familiar, with olive-toned skin and an unshaven face. He approached an unmarked door, opened it up, and disappeared behind it.
“That’s him,” said Missy. “That’s the guy.”
“What guy?” said Dunn. “Who? The guy who threatened us?”
“No,” said Missy. “The shooter.”
“How do you know?” said Dunn.
“The video,” said Missy. “I watched it hundreds of times. That’s him. That’s definitely him. Let’s go.” Before Dunn could say another word, Missy was scurrying off toward the door. Dunn looked around for a moment, unsure what to do, but then he just followed behind her, walking fast and trying to catch up.
The door was unlocked, and Dunn walked in behind Missy. There was nothing special about the back area. It looked like storage, with a few offices and closets. One room had a row of lockers in it for the tasting room employees, as well as a refrigerator, microwave, round table. Just a break room. There wasn’t enough time to take it all in, as Missy was already making her way down the hall and all Dunn could do was continue to follow her.