Uncorking a Lie

by Nadine Nettmann

  “Your number-one dedication is to studying for your Advanced Exam this fall.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “Right.”

  “You’re not studying, are you?”

  I tapped my fingers on the bottle and outlined the label with my thumb. “Soon.”

  “Katie, you’ve got to keep on it. Don’t let distractions keep from you achieving your dream.”

  “It’s just a short break. To help Paul.”

  “There will always be diversions. Always. If you let every single distraction slow you down, you’ll never get to the next level. That test will be here before you know it.”

  I stood up straighter and put my shoulders back. “I’ll be ready.” I knew Bill was right. I needed to learn to balance it all. I would get back to studying. But before that, I had to call an old friend to help me tomorrow. A friend who was great at distractions.

  fourteen

  pairing suggestion: nero d’avola—sicily, italy

  A red wine with strong tannins and similarities

  to Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah.

  -

  Tessa was waiting for me when I arrived outside Roberto’s wine shop on Tuesday morning. Ever since she became second in charge at Frontier Winery, she had toned down her clothing from her former revealing style. Her dark gray dress had a high neck but she still wore four-inch heels. Some things about Tessa would never change.

  “Thanks for coming,” I said as I hugged her.

  “Are you kidding? A secret mission to find out about a fake wine? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” She laughed and flipped her blond hair to the side. “Besides, Roberto is fun. I’ve met him a few times.”

  “That’s perfect. Just keep him busy.” I took a breath. “Ready?”

  “Always.”

  We entered Grand Vino, which was quiet, having only been open for thirty minutes.

  “Katherine, welcome back,” said Roberto as we approached the counter. “And Tessa!” His Italian accent emphasized the sound of her name. “Are you bringing me a case of Frontier?” He raised his eyebrows as he looked at Tessa. Frontier Winery produced wine known as being exclusive, high quality, and only sold through their wine club and a few high-end restaurants.

  “Maybe,” said Tessa with a grin. She sat down on the barstool. “What are we tasting today, Roberto?”

  “I just received a case of Nero d’Avola that I know you’ll both love. In fact, it will blow your mind,” Roberto replied, repeating the same expression as the day before. “I have a bottle open for tasting. Would you like to try it?”

  “Assolutamente!” replied Tessa.

  Roberto’s face lit up. “Tessa! You speak Italian?”

  “No.” She winked.

  This was my chance. “Roberto, do you mind if I use the restroom?”

  “Not at all. It’s through the rear hallway, second door.”

  “Thanks, I’ll just be a moment.” I headed to the back room and glanced around. There wasn’t anything of note at first, but on the shelf, next to the bathroom door, was a line of log books. Each one had the word Inventory followed by the year.

  I grabbed the book from 2016 and started flipping through the pages, looking for the Chateau Clair Bleu. A rush of adrenaline pumped through me when I saw a mention of Chateau Clair Bleu, but the year was 1993. I continued to turn the pages while keeping an ear on Tessa and Roberto’s conversation, which had shifted to the new sushi restaurant in town.

  I flicked through page after page as my heart raced. I only had a minute, if that. Tessa was ideal at distractions but eventually Roberto would realize I was missing.

  I turned to the next page and there it was, a 1975 Chateau Clair Bleu, brought into inventory in September. Roberto had been in possession of the wine after all.

  I flushed the toilet in the bathroom so my reason to go back there seemed legitimate and then rejoined Roberto and Tessa in the front of the store.

  “Katherine, there you are. I thought maybe you got lost.” He pushed an empty glass toward me and poured a tasting of the Nero d’Avola. “Enjoy.”

  “Thanks,” I replied as I picked it up. My hand shook and I hoped he didn’t notice. I swirled, the red wine climbing the sides of the glass, and took a sip.

  “Apparently it’s Roberto’s favorite,” said Tessa, and she mimicked her hands exploding near her head.

  He laughed but I knew I had to get to the point.

  “Roberto, I need to talk to you.” I paused as I shifted my direction on how to broach the subject. “I want you to know that I know.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Know what?”

  “That you had the 1975 Chateau Clair Bleu in your store. The one that Paul bought. You denied it yesterday, but what I want to know is why?”

  “How do you know I had it in the store?”

  I put my game face on. I decided to proceed and keep control of the conversation. “I’m curious why you didn’t tell Paul that you had it in stock when you did. Knowing that he had always wanted a 1975 Chateau Clair Bleu.”

  Roberto’s gaze fell to the counter and he didn’t move.

  “Is it because you knew it was fake?”

  He looked up at me. “It’s fake?”

  “Just like Katie’s hair color,” said Tessa.

  I ignored her and proceeded. “You didn’t know when you tasted the wine at the dinner?”

  Color flooded into Roberto’s face. “I was still recovering from a cold. I couldn’t properly smell or taste anything.” He looked at me. “Katherine, how did you know?”

  “I could tell. It wasn’t how a 1975 Chateau Clair Bleu should be. It was fruit forward and not representative of the region.”

  Tessa nudged me with her elbow. “See. The Palate.”

  I smiled but returned my focus to Roberto. “Well, I’m relieved you didn’t know, but I still don’t understand one thing. Why did you lie to me yesterday?”

  “It’s complicated, Katherine. You said you were working for Paul. I didn’t want you to tell him the bottle had been in my store. He would have wondered why I didn’t sell it to him.”

  “Why didn’t you? If you’d known for years that he’d wanted it, why not just call him up?”

  Roberto shook his head. “I honestly forgot when it arrived. I have a lot of bottles coming in and out of here. By the time I remembered, it had already sold.”

  “So …” I waited for Roberto to jump in.

  “So,” said Tessa instead. “Where did it come from?” she asked, her glass now empty.

  “The Nero?”

  Tessa gave him a look. “Please. The Chateau Clair Bleu.”

  Roberto took a deep breath. “I don’t know off the top of my head.”

  “Can you look?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “Paul wants to know. He wants to follow through on it. He wants to find out who made it.”

  Roberto nodded. “But Katherine, how did you know it was here?”

  “I heard it from a friend.” I kept my expression neutral. Henry wasn’t exactly a friend, but he had steered me in the right direction. “Listen, this is all to help Paul. He wants to proceed with finding who created it. It won’t involve you.”

  Roberto nodded. “Come on to the back.”

  “This is fun,” remarked Tessa.

  “Seriously, Tessa?”

  “Listen, we don’t investigate counterfeit bottles of wine at the winery. You have an exciting life.”

  I thought back to my empty studio apartment. “Not really.”

  Roberto pulled out the inventory book I had looked at only moments earlier and flipped through the pages until he stopped at the one with the Chateau Clair Bleu. “Sorry, it’s not going to be as easy as you hoped.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Roberto pointed to the page. “
I had my son help me with inventory for a few months. He didn’t write down the initials of where the bottles came from. The Chateau Clair Bleu was during that time.”

  I stepped forward and looked at the page. Roberto had lied to me at first, about owning the bottle, but this time he was truthful. The column on the left was blank on the entire page and for the next few pages.

  “But it was only last year. Surely you would know who it was.”

  He shook his head. “So many bottles come into this store. I don’t remember.” He glanced at the boxes behind him. “But I can find out. It’ll be on the purchase order.”

  I looked at the pages flowing out of the boxes without any form of organization. “Will that take a long time?”

  “Maybe,” replied Roberto. “I can phone you as soon I find it.”

  “Perfect.” I wrote down my number on a card and handed it to him. “Thank you, Roberto.”

  “My pleasure, Katherine.”

  Tessa linked arms with me and we left the store, heading toward our cars.

  “Want to grab lunch?” she asked.

  “I can’t. I’m meeting Dean.”

  “Shut the front door. You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  Tessa grinned. “Lucky girl. Details later?”

  “It’s not a date. It’s just getting together as friends.”

  “Sure. Enjoy your lunch,” said Tessa, with air quotes around the word lunch. She motioned to the dents on my car. “And get that fixed.”

  “Working on it.”

  fifteen

  pairing suggestion: blanc de blancs champagne

  —reims, france

  Made from 100% Chardonnay, this wine ages well

  and pairs with most meals and situations.

  -

  Dean was standing next to his car when I pulled into the parking lot of the Fremont Diner. It was a popular spot just inside Sonoma, with a rusty old truck in the corner as a permanent welcoming accessory and the menu written on a large chalkboard.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t show up,” said Dean as I greeted him.

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you would’ve returned my calls in the fall and you didn’t. You’re an enigma, Katie. But I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here, too. Have you been to the Fremont before?”

  “Once,” said Dean. “A buddy of mine works not far away at the Monument Hotel. We grabbed lunch here one time.”

  I stared at the large menu on the wall above the cash register. Although the Fremont Diner was known for a variety of meals, my favorite was the fried chicken on top of a crispy waffle.

  “I think I’ll go for a burger,” said Dean.

  “Chicken and waffles for me,” I replied.

  Dean paid for both our meals even though I politely refused his offer at first.

  We took a seat at one of the blue picnic benches in the fenced-off garden while we waited for our number to be called.

  “So,” Dean said with a sense of hesitation. “Mind if I address the elephant in the room?”

  I glanced around at our outdoor setting and raised my eyebrows.

  “Well, the elephant in the garden.”

  This was going to be about not calling him back. I took a deep breath. “You want to know …”

  “About the test.” He motioned with his hand. “Yesterday, you said you passed. Tell me more about it.”

  I grinned as the memory came to mind. “I actually ended up with the highest score. They only call out the names of those who pass so I was pretty nervous and nearly jumped when they called out my name last.”

  “How was the blind tasting this time?”

  “Really great. I made clear calls and didn’t waver once.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. Katie, I’m really proud of you.” He stared right into my eyes as he said it and my stomach flipped.

  “Thank you.”

  Dean smiled. “So what happens now? With your studying, I mean. You said something yesterday about the next one?”

  “Yeah, it continues. I’m going for the Advanced later this year.”

  “And then after the Advanced?”

  “I’ll start studying for the Master’s exam. But you have to be invited to take that test. You can’t just apply.”

  “Number forty-two,” said a voice over the loud speaker.

  “I’ll get it, just a sec.” Dean stood up from the table and returned a moment later with our food. “What would you pair with that?” He motioned to my chicken and waffles.

  “Champagne. It goes well with salty food and happens to be perfect with fried chicken.”

  “Well, I think it would go well with anything. I wish we had some. We could celebrate your test.”

  “Thanks.” I felt my cheeks twinge with heat so I focused on my meal, uncomfortable at the camaraderie that was between us. Not the fact that it was happening, but that I had pushed him away before.

  “And studying for the Master’s exam, that can take years, right?”

  “How do you know that?”

  Dean smiled. “I did some research yesterday while I looked forward to this lunch.” He picked up his burger. “I wanted to see how long it would be until you returned another one of my calls. Looks like it’ll be a few years.” He took a bite.

  “No.” I cut a piece of the chicken, a thin layer of syrup covering it. “I wouldn’t say that.” I started eating while Dean waited with an inquisitive look on his face. “If you call again, I promise I’ll call you back,” I added.

  “Sure.”

  “No, I mean it. I like having you around.”

  Dean’s eyes twinkled. “I’m glad.”

  “And you? How is work going?”

  “It’s going well. Putting the bad guys away, you know. I like knowing I’m making a difference.”

  “I like that you do that.” I smiled and he winked.

  “Me too,” he replied.

  We ate for a few moments in silence.

  “So the chicken and waffles, they’re pretty good? Is that why you wanted to come here?”

  “This place was mentioned at the dinner I attended on Sunday. Paul’s dinner. I thought it would be fun to eat here.” I glanced around. “Also, two of the people from that night said they might be eating here today.”

  “Are they?”

  I glanced around at the rest of the tables. “No. But I figured it was a long shot anyway. I mean, they were coming today but who knows what time. It would be a coincidence if they were here right now.”

  “You know I don’t really believe in coincidences.”

  I smiled. “Neither do I. It’s funny because I actually brought a bottle for one of them just in case, but I don’t think I need it anymore.”

  “That reminds me,” said Dean. “Yesterday you alluded that you were working for Paul. Looking into a wine?”

  “Oh, that. Well …” I paused. “I’m almost done. I’ve nearly found out where it came from. Just a little more investigating to do.”

  “Will it be dangerous?”

  “I don’t think so. But you know that’s not going to stop me.”

  “Yeah,” Dean said as his voice dropped. “I know.” He took another bite of his burger. After a moment, he said, “So what will you do once you know where it’s from?”

  “Tell Paul.” I shrugged. “What else did you expect?” I grinned at Dean. “Lighten up, I’ll be fine. I’ve tracked it down to a wine shop and the owner is getting me the name of where it came from and then I’ll give that to Paul and be done. He’s going to pursue the rest legally. I’m only figuring out the name.”

  I touched his hand and Dean visibly reacted in a way that he was clearly surprised. “I promise I’ll be careful.”


  He nodded. “What if the shop owner doesn’t give you the name?”

  A movement to Dean’s left made me turn. Two people, each carrying a tray of food, sat down a few tables away. Leanor and Alicia.

  “Dean, you know how you don’t believe in coincidences? The two people I mentioned just sat down.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, see them there?” I motioned my head to three tables away. “That’s Leanor and Alicia.” My mind started to turn. “Actually, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I want to go say hi.”

  “I didn’t get the impression that you were friends with them.”

  “I’m not.” I smiled. “But you made a really good point. If Roberto, the wine shop owner, doesn’t come back with the name, I’ll need to explore other avenues. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be here,” Dean replied.

  I put on a polite smile as I approached their table.

  Alicia was the first to look up. “Katie? Lovely to see you again so soon.”

  “Sonoma’s a small town after all,” added Leanor.

  “Are you dining alone?” asked Alicia. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Ah, no, thanks. I’m having lunch with a friend.” I motioned back to Dean, who waved. “Have you talked to Paul?”

  “Poor chap. He’s really distraught over the death of Cooper, as we all are,” said Alicia. “I might stop by there later today to see how he’s doing.”

  “You’ve known him a long time, right?”

  Alicia glanced at Leanor before answering. “I’ve known him about ten years, when I married Martin. They’re best friends. Leanor, you’ve known him about five, I think?”

  “Six,” she replied dryly.

  “What about Roberto?”

  “We’ve met Roberto many times,” said Leanor. “In fact, the only person we didn’t know at the dinner was you.” She started eating but Alicia kept her attention on me.

  “Alicia, you’re good friends with him, right?”

  “Katie,” said Leanor. “For someone standing in front of two people who are trying to eat”—she motioned to her food—“you ask a lot of questions.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch. I have food waiting on the table over there, too.”