by Jen Carter
Could these guys actually do any damage? Probably not. Could they get in trouble or hurt in the process? Probably not.
“Okay then,” I said, stepping forward and patting Aldo on the shoulder. “Good luck. Be careful, and let us know if you find anything.”
I turned to leave. I didn’t want to stick around long enough for Eduardo to ask why we were wandering around at eleven o’clock. Stella and Holly didn’t move.
“Nonno,” Holly said with a warning tone.
“I’ll be home in, eh, maybe ten minutes, okay?” he said.
Outside the opened door, I waited for my sisters to follow me, but they stayed rooted where they were, probably giving Aldo hard stares.
“Oh, let him stay,” Eduardo said. “This is important. We need his help.”
I watched as my sisters looked at each other and had a silent conversation with their eyes.
“Okay,” Stella said. “But if you aren’t back in fifteen minutes—at the most—we are coming down for you.”
Holly wagged her finger at the group of men. “Don’t you all get in trouble and disrupt this investigation, okay?”
The men nodded and then turned back to the computer.
Outside, Holly muttered, “I don’t know how they could possibly need Aldo’s help. He’s never used a computer in his life.”
As we worked our way around the building toward the street, I said, “I think this makes them feel important. It gives them a project.”
Stella clucked. “If there was foul play involved with Marlo’s death, I really don’t want this to be Aldo’s project.” She paused, reflecting a moment. “I don’t really want it to be our project, either.”
I only answered in my head.
Too late.
***
The next morning when my alarm sounded, I felt just as exhausted as I had when falling into bed the night before. But I promised myself that I’d go running with Livy and Jules, so I rolled out of bed anyway. Running would help clear my mind. At least that’s what I told myself as I brushed my teeth. And then as I tied my running shoes. And then as I picked my way through the vineyard toward our meeting place. By the time Livy and Jules came into view, I almost believed it.
Of course, my friends wanted an update on the investigation of Marlo’s death, so I filled them in. I relayed my suspicions about a struggle between Marlo and someone else, which led into describing the late-night barn search. Before I could get to Katia’s hair clip, Livy interrupted.
“Wait, so it wasn’t an accident?” she asked as we turned left at the end of Via del Corso and headed out of Otto Viti.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “And we might have two legitimate suspects.”
“Okay, walk us through that,” Jules said.
We began up a steep hill. I wasn’t thrilled about talking while tackling the incline, but the story was just too good to hold in. I told them about finding Katia’s hair clip in the vat of wine and about the Council of Elders trying to dig up information on Marlo’s ex-husband in Artie’s computer system. Vaguely, somewhere in the back of my mind, I sensed that I shouldn’t have been spreading this news to more people in OV, but I couldn’t help myself. This was the same reason I had dragged Stella and Holly to the barn the night before. I was kind of a busybody. I didn’t mean to be, but the evidence was pretty clear.
“So, what’s next?” Livy asked when I finished the story. “What are you going to do about all this?”
I tried to take a couple deep breaths as we continued fighting up the hill. I pictured the green jeweled button now sitting on my dresser in Stella’s little baggie.
“I told my sisters I’d give the button to the detective. So I guess I have to do that. I should probably hand over the hairclip, too. Who knows what he’ll do? He might not think either find means anything.” I searched for another deep breath. “Maybe I need to go talk to the Berke sisters. Or the ex-husband. Or both.”
“I really hope you’re wrong about this,” Jules huffed. “It’s scary to think that this might not have been an accident.”
“Yeah,” Livy agreed.
“Hey,” I said after a couple silent strides. “I probably shouldn’t be talking about all this—it could be nothing. I don’t want to be the source of rumors. Can you keep this to yourselves? Just between us?”
“Sure,” Jules answered.
“Uh, probably not,” Livy said.
I laughed—as much as I could laugh on limited breath. “I figured you’d go right to Hunter and tell him.” Of course she would tell her boyfriend who she’s had for a thousand years. “But beside him, can you keep it to yourself?”
“I’ll try. But you know my mouth is as big as yours.”
“I’ll keep her reigned in,” Jules said.
I doubted that, but I could appreciate the attempt.
When we finished our run, I hiked up to Aldo’s house, ready to take a shower and make my to-do list for the day. As I waited for the water in the shower to warm, I checked my phone for messages, only regretting the action after swiping the phone on.
There were two text messages, spaced approximately three minutes apart.
The first was from Stella, sent at 6:19 am to both Holly and me.
I told Jason what we did last night. I couldn’t keep it from him. Not just because I felt guilty, but also because he needed to know what Aldo and his buddies were up to.
And then at 6:22, the message from Jason came through.
Jill, I’ll be at the winery at 7. Can you stop by my office this morning? Thanks.
Ugh.
TWELVE
Why did Stella have to tell her husband what we did last night? I should have known better. Of course she would tell Jason. She’s always been an honest and no-nonsense person. I should have just brought Holly with me. Brilliant as she was when it came to art history and wine, she was only a part-time resident of the real world. She probably didn’t even remember what we did last night.
After showering, I walked through the kitchen and found Aldo standing at the counter drinking coffee.
“Good morning, Nonno,” I said, going straight for the refrigerator. “How’re you feeling?” I grabbed a container of yogurt and turned toward my grandfather, waiting for his answer.
“Eh, okay.” He opened a drawer near him, pulled out a spoon, and handed it to me for my yogurt. “We couldn’t find anything on Alex last night, and I’m just worried about everything.”
I opened my yogurt and took a bite. “Eduardo says that you all suspect Alex because of a gut feeling. Is it more than that? Is there anything else about him that bothers you? I mean, it really could have just been an accident. There might not have been foul play at all.” I didn’t believe my own words, but I hated to see my grandfather worried, and I couldn’t think of any other way to assuage his worries.
Aldo sipped his coffee. “Artie says that Alex and his ex-wife fought a lot. He complained to Artie. Whenever he was late delivering an order of chess tables, he always blamed Marlo. Said she was sabotaging his side business. Said he couldn’t take it anymore.”
My eyebrows rose. “That’s not good. He said he couldn’t take it, and then she turned up dead? That does seem sort of suspicious.”
Aldo nodded. “Artie called Alex yesterday morning when we found out it was his ex-wife. He said Alex was quiet on the phone. Not so much upset. Just quiet. And when Artie tried to get his, eh, what do you call it? Where he was when she died?”
“Alibi?”
“Yes, the alibi. There was no alibi.”
“Did Artie ask straight out where Alex was on Saturday night?”
Aldo shrugged. “No. He was trying to be sneaky.”
I finished my yogurt and threw the container in the garbage. Artie didn’t strike me as a very sly person. He probably wasn’t very good about tricking people into sharing information.
“I know this is tough, Nonno,” I said. “It’s tragic that Marlo’s dead, and it’s unnerving that we don’t know
how. It’s especially unnerving since the crush festival is next weekend and we need to be prepping for hundreds of visitors.” I tossed my spoon into the sink and wrapped my arms around Aldo’s neck. “But we’ll get this figured out.”
Aldo patted my arm and forced a smile.
I let go of my grandfather and mirrored his forced smile. “I’m going back to Carlsbad today. I need to get ready for school starting. But I’ll be around for a while this morning to run some errands. See you soon.”
Aldo waved and went back to sipping his coffee.
My cell phone screen read seven-twenty. Jason was already in his office, and I figured I might as well get the meeting over with. I headed directly down to the winery and entered the tasting room building through the back where the offices were.
His door was open, and I knocked on it lightly before continuing inside.
“Hey, brother-in-law,” I said. “Happy Monday morning. Want me to grab you some coffee? I’m heading over to Amy’s shop in a couple minutes. Interested?”
Jason smiled up from the email he was answering on his computer. “Jill, I’m not mad at you. You don’t have to bribe me.”
I let out a long, low breath and collapsed into the chair across his desk. “Oh, good,” I said. “So you’re not going to yell at me for making your wife sneak out last night and tamper with a crime scene?”
“Have I ever yelled at you?”
“No.”
“Is Stella capable of making her own decisions?”
“Yes.”
He nodded once, like we had officially put the matter to rest. “Right. Then let’s move on. I wanted to talk to you about Aldo and his nut-ball buddies. Are you going down to Carlsbad this week? To get ready for school?”
I nodded. “Today, yes.”
Jason leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips, thinking. “We need to keep Aldo out of trouble. He’s easy to keep track of during the day, but after last night, I’m worried about the evenings. Holly sleeps like the dead, and she’d sleep sixteen hours a day if she could, so she’s not helpful with this particular issue.”
I wasn’t surprised that Jason was looking out for Aldo—they had always been close. Jason was hired at D’Angelo as a teenager and worked his way up over the better part of two decades. I think we all knew Jason would end up running the winery when Aldo retired, but it seemed like wine production was only part of his job. Once he and Stella started dating years and years ago, and especially after they got married, it seemed to me that the other part of his job was keeping our family grounded and happy—and in this instance, safe.
And he was right. We needed to keep Aldo out of trouble, particularly if there really was foul play involved with Marlo’s death.
“What did you have in mind? Do you want me to set up camp in front of his bedroom door to make sure he doesn’t sneak out?” I was half joking, but really, I’d happily drive back and forth between OV and Carlsbad daily to guard my grandfather if need be.
He smiled. “That thought did cross my mind. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
“We could just ask him to stay in,” I suggested.
Jason shook his head. “Eduardo’s a bully. He’ll convince Aldo to do whatever he wants. Morrie and Artie are good guys, but they can’t stand up to Eduardo either. We’ve got to come up with something else.”
“Maybe we just need Mrs. Salizar to keep Eduardo in line.”
Jason seemed to consider the idea. “I should give her a call today,” he said.
“If that doesn’t work, let’s sic his dramatic daughter on him. Elita’s been wallowing over her most recent break up, and maybe this would get her mind off that.” I stood up. “How about that coffee now? Want some?”
Jason shook his head. “No, thanks.” He pointed to a travel cup half-hidden by his computer. “I came prepared.”
As I turned to go, he called after me.
“Jill? For the record, I don’t like any of the D’Angelo sisters sneaking into crime scenes on random hunches—and there was a conversation about this in the Fiore household earlier this morning. I do care about your safety. And if you three pull something like this again, I’ll be the one sleeping in front of bedrooms blocking the way.”
I grinned. “Thanks, brother-in-law.”
I walked toward the front of the building, through the tasting room, and out the front doors in pursuit of coffee. Never did I expect the scene unfolding in front of the barn. Detective Fitts was there, yelling at a short, blonde woman who was holding some sort of recording device toward him. She was dressed in a powder blue skirt suit with matching heels. If she was a field reporter, she looked far more dressy than the ones I saw on the local newscasts.
“Get out of here!” Fitts growled. “I have nothing to say to you. When we’ve solved this case, we’ll let you know. Now git!” He took a warning step toward her, but she held her ground.
“Detective, our sources tell us that this wasn’t an accident. There was foul play. Any comment?”
“I already told you,” he thundered. He took another step forward and entered the woman’s personal space. “No comment!”
The woman hesitated before backing away and turning off her recording device. She scowled. “You know what happened last time you withheld information from me,” she said. She looked right in my direction, and the frustration on her face morphed to excited hopefulness. “Oh, are you one of the family members who works at D’Angelo Winery?” She scurried toward me, tapping the recorder back on.
“Lucy, you stay away from her, too!” Fitts yelled. “She’s not talking to you!”
I glanced at Fitts. His face was pinker than I remembered from yesterday. He wasn’t joking.
“No comment,” I said awkwardly to the woman.
“Don’t let him push you around,” Lucy said, tilting her head toward Fitts. “The sooner you get your family’s side of the story out, the sooner people will stop questioning your involvement. You don’t want to lose business over this scandal, do you?”
Her words jolted me. Wait, we were going to lose business? And if I didn’t talk to her, it would be my fault?
I glanced at Fitts. “No comment,” I repeated.
The woman narrowed her eyes, the look of frustration back. Then she turned abruptly, huffing and puffing, and stalked off. She turned right once reaching the sidewalk, thankfully going in the opposite direction of Amy’s coffee and bookshop.
I watched her disappear down the street, somehow finding myself appreciating Detective Fitts—just a bit. Maybe his brash, speak-before-you-think ways could be helpful. He sure did run the reporter off quickly.
“That woman is nearly as big of a pain as your older sister,” he said. He walked right by me toward the tasting room.
Ah, there it was. Putting my sister down. The reason I didn’t like his brash, speak-before-you think ways. The admiration I felt moments before evaporated.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, following him. “Do you have a minute to talk? About the investigation?” I reached into my pocket and felt the baggie with the button in it.
“Nope, I sure don’t.” He reached the front door and pulled on the handle. It was locked. “Do you have a key? I need to speak with Mr. Fiore about the homicide.”
“Homicide?” I repeated. “So this wasn’t an accident?”
I wasn’t really surprised—after all, I had thought all along it wasn’t an accident. But it was that word: homicide. It caught me off guard.
He huffed. “Do you have a key or not?”
I crossed my arms. “I might. Tell me how you know it wasn’t an accident.”
His impatience was getting the best of him—I could see it in his reddening face. The faster he spilled the beans, the sooner he’d get inside the tasting room.
He stared down the street where the reporter had gone. “Signs of struggle. Chunk of missing hair. Broken finger. Some other stuff—internal stuff—but I’m not telling. Don’t ask me any more questions.�
� He made eye contact with me and then nodded toward the door. “Let me in.”
He might not have shared all the details, but it was enough for me. For now.
I decided to keep Marlo’s sweater button to myself. If he already knew there was foul play, why show him the button and give him reason to yell at me for tampering with the crime scene?
I could have told him about the hair clip, but after he called Stella a pain, I didn’t really want to.
I pulled out my phone and texted Jason. Fitts is outside the tasting room waiting for you.
“He’ll be out in twenty seconds,” I said, pocketing my phone.
Eighteen seconds later, Jason pushed the door open and welcomed the detective inside.
“Jason,” I whispered after Fitts walked in. I pulled out the baggie with the button and pointed at it. “Don’t mention last night to him. Irrelevant.”
Jason nodded and closed the door.
I needed to get back to Carlsbad. But before that, I needed to track down a couple people: the Berke sisters and Marlo’s ex-husband.
THIRTEEN
The door leading to Snapdragon’s lobby was open. I stepped through it and saw Katia and Carolina behind the front desk, staring at each other. They were both whispering urgently, neither listening to the other.
It looked like I walked in on an argument.
“Good morning,” I said, pretending that I hadn’t noticed their strained looks and whispers. “How’s everyone doing today?”
The sisters’ heads snapped toward me. Their hard expressions did not soften.
“Hello, Jill,” Carolina said. She flipped her long gray hair over her shoulder and closed her eyes for the duration of a deep breath.
Katia didn’t respond.
“I just have a quick question.” I walked to the front desk and turned my attention to Katia. It was time to see if I could be more sly than the Council of Elders when it came to getting information. “My sisters and I have been brainstorming ideas for something cute to do with our hair for the crush festival this weekend. I remembered seeing a really pretty clip in your hair a couple days ago. It had feathers and rhinestones, and you had a chopstick keeping it in. Do you know which one I’m talking about?”