One Foot in the Grape

by Carlene O'Neil

  I took a deep breath. Ross was right. Marvin would love to know he’d gotten to me. I ate the cracker while Hayley ran her hands through her hair and smiled at Ross.

  Marvin took a seat on the edge of the fireplace hearth and pulled out a newspaper from under his arm. He hadn’t acknowledged anyone in the room, and they in turn ignored him. Stephen and Chantal spoke together in soft tones on the couch while Veronica straightened a book on the shelf.

  “What’s wrong with him anyway?”

  “I can’t answer in general,” Hayley said, “but right now he doesn’t want to be here. Said he has better things to do than this. Of course, you’d never know it. If you look closely, that’s a horse race schedule he’s reading.”

  Hayley leaned back in her chair and looked out the side window. “There’s a car pulling into the drive. Black Aston Martin. Very cool.”

  Ross nodded. “That would be Francesca and Brice.”

  “I met Francesca last night.” I rolled my eyes. “That was a pleasant experience. What kind of doctor is her husband?”

  “A cardiologist. He divides his time between offices in the city and at the hospital here. They come into the restaurant and drive my staff crazy. Impossible to please. Plus she always wants me to comp her bill, just because her mother owns the building. What sense does that make? Of course, I never do. Let her eat somewhere else.”

  “You know she won’t. You have the best restaurant in town.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I do.” He grinned. “Anyway, I’ve heard her talking at dinner. She’s always too loud to ignore—”

  “Like you try,” I said.

  “Do you want to hear or not? Anyway, she doesn’t get along with Stephen. Apparently she doesn’t think Stephen’s doing a good job of running the winery. She could do better if given the chance. Of course, she’s also angry with Antonia for that.”

  “That’s an understatement. She made it clear to me last night how she feels.”

  “If you think the stress level in here is high now, just wait until they walk in.”

  The sound of heels striking the flagstone foyer grew louder. Stephen wiped his forehead and kept his eyes away from the door, while Veronica fiddled with her pearls until they sounded like castanets. Antonia had returned with Connor and as she turned to the door the smile dropped from her face. The only family member who didn’t react was Chantal, who looked bored and sullen.

  “God, I hate coming here on Fridays. Traffic was terrible.”

  I caught a glimpse of very expensive but serious shoes as they traveled to the bar, where a Coach attaché and handbag were unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Paperwork fell out of her bag. Francesca snatched it from the ground and slapped it on the bar. She looked up.

  “What, a party? And you didn’t even invite me?”

  Her hair was once again pulled into a tight bun, and she wore the same red lipstick. I was struck by how opposite she was from Chantal, now playing with the fringe on the couch pillow.

  Antonia greeted her daughter with a slight nod. It was easy to see she was still upset over last night. She kept a tight grip on her cane, and she wouldn’t look at Francesca.

  “We’re meeting to review festival details, and we haven’t started yet. Will you be here the entire weekend?”

  “Of course. I’m looking forward to some quality time with the family. Besides, I haven’t seen all of the improvements Stephen’s made.”

  The sarcasm was evident in her voice. Francesca enunciated every word, giving it a weight and presence all its own. She must be hell in a courtroom.

  Brice stood just inside the door of the library and clutched a cell phone to his ear. He gave a small wave with a manicured hand and turned to continue the conversation.

  Francesca poured herself a sherry, perched on one of the bar stools and tapped short scarlet nails against her glass. “I might as well stick around to hear what the plan is.”

  “We’ll wait a few more minutes. The only person who isn’t here yet is Todd,” Antonia said.

  “Why do you need to wait for him?” Francesca asked.

  “He’s responsible for coordinating shifts in the tasting booths.” Stephen had a slight frown.

  Connor settled next to me as a brisk knock announced Todd’s arrival. He pushed open the glass doors. Once again, he wore jeans and a white fitted shirt. He also had on a Stetson hat that he removed as he walked across the room.

  “Hello, everyone.”

  Antonia motioned to him and gestured toward the chair next to her. He smiled and took a seat, resting his hat on his knee. It was unlike Antonia to be so informal with someone she would consider staff. She must really like Todd, and it was easy to see he was comfortable with her.

  Marvin watched them over the top of the racing form. Only his eyes were visible, but his brow was furrowed and his hands clenched the paper.

  Now that there were men in the room, Chantal lost the bored look and artfully arranged a pillow into the small of her back. She arched and stretched to the best of her ability. It was quite a performance, and Antonia hadn’t missed it.

  “How is your fiancée and the plans for the wedding?” Antonia asked Todd, with a side-glance at Chantal.

  “Joanne is really good at this stuff. I’m just picking wine for the reception. We’re almost done with everything, now that I’ve asked Penny to be the photographer and she’s said yes.” Todd smiled at me.

  “That’s marvelous,” Antonia said. “You don’t have any other responsibilities?”

  “That’s it. Joanne won’t let me pick out music or select any decorations. She swears I’m tone-deaf and knows I’m color-blind, so she took charge of everything else.”

  Chantal uncurled from the couch and stood. “Francesca’s right. Let’s get started. I don’t want to be stuck here all night.” She brushed Stephen’s hand away and weaved toward the bar.

  Francesca looked at her sister. “Why are you even here? You’ve never taken any interest in the goings-on around here before. As long as your bills are paid, you couldn’t care less what happens.”

  Antonia raised her hand. “That will do. As a family member, I want Chantal to attend portions of the festival.” She looked at her youngest. “Besides, maybe Chantal will have something to contribute. Perhaps in marketing?”

  Chantal shrugged as she reached for the martini still on the bar. With a toss of her hair she tipped the drink to her lips.

  Francesca snorted. “Well, Mother, there’s your answer.”

  A silence descended on the room, broken only by the sound of Brice, still on his phone in the hallway.

  “I don’t care for cell phones,” Antonia gestured toward the sound. “I think they’re rude.”

  “He’s a doctor, Mother,” Francesca said. “Brice takes his job very seriously.”

  “Yes, your very important husband, the doctor.” Chantal polished off the martini. “A hundred bucks says it isn’t a patient on the other end of that phone.”

  “Jealous bitch,” Francesca said calmly. “Go drink yourself into unconsciousness.”

  “At least I have an excuse when I’m unconscious. You manage it sober and wide-awake.”

  “Enough!” Antonia slammed down her cane. “I will not stand for this.”

  “I agree. This was supposed to be a pleasant family evening,” Veronica said.

  Francesca laughed. “Get real. How many pleasant evenings have you seen since you married into this family anyway?”

  “Please, Francesca.” Veronica looked around the room. “We have guests. Antonia, can we go over the agenda for the festival?”

  Antonia watched her daughters. “Todd, you start with the overview, and I will step in.”

  “Sure.” Todd’s calm demeanor took some of the tension out of the room, and he walked through the following week’s activities.

 
; The Autumn Festival was the biggest annual fund-raiser for The Kasey Foundation, the town’s foster care center. The participants donated a portion of their profits on wine sales, and visitors paid admission. In addition to the wine booths, the festival had a petting zoo, a farmers’ market and gourmet food booths.

  The festival theme varied from year to year. This year the theme was medieval, and the booths and participants were expected to be adorned in an appropriate fashion. Throughout the weekend, displays of blacksmithing and soap-making and staged presentations of swordplay would occur in the midway.

  Brice came in a few minutes later. He glanced around the room and perched next to his wife on a bar stool. Francesca ignored him, as did Chantal, who’d returned to the couch with her drink.

  After Todd covered the basics of the festival and moved on to staging, I wandered over to where Thomas sat.

  “Not exactly role models for a perfectly functioning family, are they?” Thomas said under his breath.

  “Do they always squabble like this?”

  “Are you kidding?” Thomas sipped his sparkling wine. “They’re on their best behavior for company.”

  “The only one who hasn’t had anything to say yet is Stephen. Actually that’s not true. You got him to talk.”

  Thomas shrugged. “I asked about Chantal, how she is. She sure doesn’t look good today.”

  We watched as she finished her drink and set her empty glass on the end table.

  “He’s got to be worried about her drinking.”

  “That’s part of it. The drinking. The inconsistent behavior. There’s been talk of prescription drugs. And the men. Always the men. She throws herself at any guy that goes near her. Anyone but me and Ross, that is.” Thomas leaned closer. “A while back Stephen thought she was interested in Todd. I mean, beyond flirting. It bothered him. He wanted to fire Todd. Antonia wouldn’t hear of it. She said Todd did a great job and increased visits to the winery.”

  “That sounds like the Antonia I know. The good of the winery before anything else. How did you get all of this out of Stephen?”

  “I excel at three things: decorating, dressing and dishing the dirt. I can get anyone to talk.”

  At half past nine, the rest of the festival details were finalized. Antonia dismissed everyone with a wave of her cane and the family scattered. Todd and Hayley went out the front, Marvin left through the sliding doors and Connor remained with Antonia to discuss a new grafting technique.

  “You guys wait here,” I said to Ross and Thomas. “I didn’t know what prints you needed, so I grabbed a bit of everything. I’ll be right back.”

  I walked down the front steps into the night, where Todd and Hayley stood near Connor’s truck.

  “I’ve got postcards for Ross and Thomas. Then I want to bring a stack of prints to the booth.”

  “I’ll take them down for you,” Hayley said.

  “Did you confirm that Marvin gave us the right booth?”

  She nodded. “Finally. At first he tried to tell me the map was preliminary, but it said ‘Final Copy’ right on the bottom. I told him not to try anything and he dropped it. I’m really not his favorite person.”

  “I’d be worried if you were.”

  I handed her a box then reached into the glove box, where I knew Connor kept a flashlight. “Take this. The main lights are up in the festival area, but the path down is dark.”

  Todd and Hayley started down the path that led to the fermentation building and, farther, down the hill to the festival grounds.

  I grabbed the box of postcards and returned to the library. Connor and Antonia had poured out the Cabernet. Ross handed me a glass and I took a sip.

  “Antonia, this is superb.”

  She nodded. “One of our best years.” She pointed to the box. “What are those?”

  “Postcards and small prints for the gift store. Ross and Thomas sell my work there.”

  “Let me see.”

  I spread out the photos by the various seasons and Antonia peered over them. “My winery seems to be one of your favorite subjects.”

  “It is. It’s beautiful.” I caught her eye. “I mean it. The only winery I think is prettier is my own.”

  After I’d given several to Antonia, I boxed up the rest and grabbed Ross by the arm.

  “Come on, you two. I’ll walk you out.”

  * * *

  A short time later I stood in the night air and watched as they drove away.

  The evening fog had rolled in, a regular occurrence this close to the water. Below, in the clearing, the light from Hayley’s flashlight moved through the mist.

  As I walked back up the front steps, someone shouted. It sounded like it came from the fermentation building. I stopped to listen. Nothing. I turned back toward the house but hesitated. If someone was ruining the wines, it would need to be now, when the wine was aging in the barrels, before it was bottled. Also, it would be at this time of day, when it was unlikely that anyone would be about. All in all, this could be a pretty good opportunity for me to find something out.

  Oddly enough, the possibility that I might actually surprise someone didn’t get my feet moving. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of looking for anyone in the dark.

  The thing that got me back down the front steps and moving toward the fermentation building was Connor. He’d said getting involved was a bad idea, and I hated the thought of admitting he was right. A quick look around and I’d be out of there. I didn’t have a flashlight and picked my way along the path. The fog now rolled in drifts, moving across the ground around me.

  The heavy double doors creaked when I pushed them open. Rows of barrels loomed in the semidarkness ahead. If the goal was to surprise someone, I needed to leave the lights off. I waited for my eyes to adjust and crept to the rear of the building.

  The only sounds were my footsteps and the soft hum of the fans. I walked slowly down the center aisle. Nothing seemed out of place. If there had been someone in the building, they were gone now.

  I turned around at the large metal tanks and retraced my steps. When I reached the middle of the row, there was a crash from outside to the rear of the building, then the whine of an electric motor. There was a shout and the whirl of machinery beyond the back doors.

  I ran back, pushed open the rear exit and stumbled outside. In front of me were the two winery crushers. The crusher to my left was on. The grind of machinery and the whirl of spinning blades filled the night air.

  I went to the machine and climbed the four metal steps to where the grapes were dumped into the crusher. The moon broke through the fog and exposed the silver lever. I stepped on something as I reached and turned off the machine. Silenced descended. The moonlight was bright now as I looked down into the crusher.

  It took a moment for my brain to catch up and for me to realize the crusher wasn’t empty, that it wasn’t a simple trick of the light. It took even longer to understand the dark stain that covered the steel beneath me. I looked again and turned away. My eyes landed on what I’d kicked. A Stetson hat.

  Seven

  I GRABBED the rail, took a deep breath and managed to make it down the stairs before my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the bottom step and stared at the moon until it began to blur. Then I dropped my head between my knees and tried not to pass out.

  Crushers were designed to slice through grapes and any remaining stems. There wasn’t any need to call for help. The only thing I’d recognized was Todd’s hat. My eyes closed against the night, against what I’d just seen. I sat for a few moments, breathing deeply.

  When I could, I opened my eyes and waited for my head to clear. The flashlight swung up the front steps as Hayley returned to the house. I started to yell but turned to look down to the clearing, and the sound died on my lips. Hayley stood next to our booth in the festival area stacking boxes.

  My eye
s shifted back to the house. Whoever held the light was at the top of the steps. The beam arched across the landscape and the entire yard was illuminated. The light swung my way. Even though it was too far away for me to be seen, instinct took over and I ducked. The light lingered for what seemed an eternity. It finally disappeared, and the front door softly closed.

  With both hands on the rail, I pulled myself up. I swayed and stumbled back into the fermentation building. The fire alarm was to the side of the door and I hit the switch. The sound blared through the building and bounced off the steel tanks. I turned on the lights. Whoever had killed Todd hadn’t turned any of them on, hadn’t touched any of the switches. Not that it would matter. It was someone who’d returned to the main house, someone whose fingerprints belonged there. I walked down the row and reached the front doors just as they opened.

  Brice shut his phone as he stepped into the building, with Francesca right behind him. She was pushed out of the way by Stephen. Veronica clung to his arm, and both of them now wore robes.

  “I’ve called the fire station,” Stephen shouted.

  Connor arrived with Antonia, and he ran to turn off the alarm.

  Hayley came through the rear double doors, followed by Marvin.

  Chantal was the last to enter the building. She’d changed into red hip-skimming sweats and a midriff top and was out of breath.

  “So,” Francesca glanced around. “Not that it’s any of my concern, but where’s the fire?”

  “Todd’s dead.” It came out as a whisper and nobody heard me.

  “There isn’t any fire.” I spoke louder this time. I wiped the dampness from my forehead with the back of my sleeve.

  Brice waved his phone in the air. “What kind of game is this? I’m trying to work. I only get coverage in a couple of spots here, and the patient—”

  “That’s enough,” Antonia said. “Penelope must have had a reason for setting off the alarm. Now tell us, Penelope”— her eyes turned toward me—“what it is.”