Pinot Noir and Poison

by Sandra Woffington

  Max set down his shake. His eyes narrowed. “They do not look like Kate Wolf.”

  Joy sipped more of her shake. “I hope you’re right, Max.”

  12

  Before going to the winery, Joy drove Max to the three-story medical building adjacent to Wine Valley Hospital. She handed Max a black and white plastic bag. “The two-pound box is for Dr. Roberts, and the bag of bridge mix is for the receptionist, Nettie.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, you’re going to grovel like never before, because if you mess this up, I’m not driving you around anymore. Captain Banks won’t keep turning a blind eye.”

  “I can grovel.”

  Joy let slip a harrumph of doubt.

  They rode up in the elevator and found Dr. Roberts’ office.

  The office was typical medical office chic—muted but cheerful pastels of blue and yellow—nothing so bright as to cause a seizure or discomfort during long waits to see the doctor. Joy stood by Nettie’s desk and chatted her up.

  Max handed Nettie the bridge mix.

  “Why, thank you, Max. You did not have to do that.”

  “My pleasure, Nettie. I appreciate you squeezing me in.”

  It was an hour before a nurse came out to fetch Max.

  He jumped to his feet, already over-acting the I-am-healthy routine as he followed the young brunette nurse to the back.

  The nurse took Max’s vitals, asked a few routine questions, and stuck him in a room to wait for the doctor. “Strip down to your socks and put this on. Opens in the back.”

  Max waited another half hour before Dr. Roberts finally stepped in to see him. He seemed taller than Max remembered, but then Max had only seen him while flat on his back. Max extended a hand, but Dr. Roberts didn’t take it.

  Dr. Roberts barked orders and Max followed them. “Lean back” and “Extend your arm” and “Press against my hand.” And on and on. Eventually, he finished, rolled his stool over to the computer terminal, and punched at the keys. Max hadn’t even had time to give him the candy, which sat on the counter.

  “I sincerely apologize, Dr. Roberts. I had no right leaving the hospital the way I did. My father would never have approved.”

  “No,” said Dr. Roberts. “David King would not.”

  “You knew him?”

  Dr. Roberts stopped typing, turned to Max, and pulled off his glasses. “I was on call the night he had his heart attack. We got him stabilized for bypass surgery the next morning.”

  “You know that he adopted me.”

  “I know that he stubbornly refused to follow doctor’s orders, especially after his bypass surgery. Maybe he’d be with us still if…”

  “I was with him when he died.”

  Dr. Roberts stammered, “I didn’t know, Max. I’m sorry.”

  “I get what you’re saying, doctor. My rushing to get back on the street was dangerous—for me and possibly to others.”

  “Exactly. Doctors are notoriously bad patients. We hate being sick and following medical advice.”

  “I’ve heard that.”

  “Not me. I’ve lost too many patients that way. Funny, they were in such a hurry to live, they died too soon.”

  “I never thought of it that way. That really makes sense. I do appreciate your saving my life. It’s not lost on me that I almost died.”

  “That can be life-changing as well. The E.R. doctor gets the most credit, not me. I just facilitated your recovery. So I’ll clear you for duty, if you promise to take care of yourself.”

  “I promise. And I brought you candy.”

  “Nettie still thinks I like the stuff, but I gave it up a few years back. I’ll give it to the children’s wing.”

  Dr. Roberts walked toward the door.

  “Hey, doc?” called Max.

  “Yes, Max.”

  “It wasn’t much of an exam. How come the gown?”

  Dr. Roberts smiled like a Cheshire Cat and erupted in laughter as he closed the door behind him.

  “Lesson—never piss off a doctor.”

  Max turned right off of Via Vendage and wound up the road to the Raedwald Wolf Estate Winery, the valley’s first vineyard. He parked before a sprawling modern-day Scottish castle.

  Max and Joy strolled through a beige stone archway and into a massive square with signs pointing to the restaurant, tasting rooms, and a quaint three-story hotel.

  Kate usually ran the restaurant while Red and their sons ran the tasting room or gave tours, so Max headed to the restaurant.

  When they strolled in, they found Kate visiting with customers at table near the picture windows overlooking the rolling rows of vines as far as the eye could see. When she saw Max and Joy, she rushed over to greet them. Kate had long red naturally curly hair, neatly tied back with a black velvet ribbon. “Max, Joy, it’s good to see you. You look fantastic, Max. Are you all better?”

  “As good as ever, Kate,” Max replied. “We need to interview you and the rest of the family.”

  “There’s a quiet table in the cellar. More private there. Will that do?” asked Kate.

  “Perfect,” said Joy.

  “First, Kate, can you show us your garden?” Max turned to Joy. “Kate is a renowned chef, and she grows a lot of the vegetables and herbs right here on the property.”

  “This way.” Kate led them through the restaurant and into the kitchen, where she nodded to the staff as she walked past. She passed by large refrigerators and the door to a walk-in freezer. She stepped out the back door into a lush garden with weathered planter boxes and rows of plants, some short, some tall. Sticks supported climbing vines dotted with red or yellow or purple tomatoes.

  Joy walked past a planter box containing herbs and over to tall, spindly stalks with umbrella-shaped clumps of tiny white flowers. “Queen Anne’s Lace?”

  “Yes,” said Kate proudly. “Blooms for six months, and it’s edible.”

  “And it looks like hemlock,” said Joy. “Do you grow any mushrooms?”

  “No,” said Kate. “What I don’t grow, I obtain from vendors, local if possible.”

  Max walked to a fence line, along which ran a small irrigation ditch. He pointed to similar-looking flowers. “And this?”

  Joy and Kate stepped over. Joy pointed out the reddish-purple blotches on the stalks. “This is hemlock.”

  Kate’s face contorted in panic. “But that’s a weed. That’s not part of my garden!”

  Max eyed Kate as if eyeing her for the first time. “Kate, you forage, right? Elliot mentioned it.”

  “Once,” Kate stammered. “We’d talked about fresh ingredients, and I told him about my garden. He mentioned his foraging. He said the next time he went up north, I should come with him. Last year, I was visiting a friend in San Francisco, and Elliot happened to be there at the same time. He and I arranged to walk the forest for the day. He found Death Cap mushrooms, which he harvested for Sally’s poison garden. But, Max, you have to believe me. I’d never serve anything in the restaurant that I found in the wild. Every chef has heard horror stories while in training.”

  “Then you are aware of poisonous plants?” asked Max.

  Kate suddenly spun into a mode of trying to backpedal. “Not really. I know not to pick anything in the wild and eat it. That’s all.”

  Joy crouched down to inspect the base of the hemlock plant. “Hemlock is in the same family as carrots and celery and some herbs. The root looks like a parsnip. The ground is dry, so it doesn’t look freshly planted.”

  “Well, not by me! It’s coming up.” Kate reached for the plant.

  “No!” warned Joy. “Don’t touch it. We’ll send a team to collect it.”

  “A team!” shouted Kate. “I didn’t poison Sally. I might have wanted to…” Kate slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Kate!” Max used a stern tone and put his hands on Kate’s upper arms. “You have to keep calm.” When he let her go, he caught Joy’s stern glare of disapproval. A detective would never stop a witness from
talking, but that was effectively what Max had just done—he had warned Kate to keep quiet.

  Joy rose to her feet. “Let’s go to the cellar.” Joy waved a hand at Kate, who led the way. Joy fell in line next, cutting Max off from the witness.

  Kate led them back through the restaurant to the courtyard and from there to the tasting room.

  Red, a burly man with thick red-blond hair and a full beard, stood behind the long bar, pouring wine and chatting with visitors. Even though it was Monday, tourists flocked to Wine Valley in the summer, so the room had about a dozen guests.

  Alfie strolled in with another half dozen tourists. “Now that I’ve bored you with how we make wine, it’s time to sample the goods. Just present your coupons at the bar.”

  A few clapped in appreciation and everyone headed to the bar.

  Red lifted the bridge on the bar and came to greet Max, giving him a bear hug and one to Joy as well. “Max, seeing you walking and talking is a relief. I still can’t believe Sally’s gone, and seeing her keel over like she did, and you…well, I’m still in shock.”

  Kate interjected with a dour expression, “Red, they’re here to interview us. I’m putting them in the cellar.”

  “Right, understandable.” Red ran a hand down his beard. “Everything all right, Kate?”

  Before she could answer, Joy took the lead. “How about you first, Kate? Then Red, and then you can send the boys down.”

  Kate shot Red a look of concern before she turned and led them to the back of the room, through a door, and down a stone staircase with old-world lanterns. At the bottom of the staircase, the room opened up into a massive space with an arched ceiling supported by stone pillars. Wood wine barrels rose in stacks against the walls. Several long tables with chairs stretched down the center of the room. Over the tables hung lights with candle-like sconces set into medieval, circular metal frames. Max had been in the room before. During winter months, the room was used for weddings, corporate banquets, or other special events.

  Max and Joy took seats on either side at the end of the table, leaving the end seat for the interviewee. Kate settled into that chair. She clasped her hands before her and shifted nervously in her seat. Her lips moved as if reminding herself what to say or not to say. Or maybe muttering a prayer.

  Max kept an eye on Kate. His gaze acted like a steel barrier, reminding her to stay silent and wait for the questions.

  “Kate, tell us what you remember of Friday from the beginning. Start with lunch.” Max opened his note pad and pulled out his pen.

  Kate sucked in a breath. “Alice arrived before the others to make sure everything was in order for the lunch meeting. She set out place cards.”

  “Was that normal? Place cards?” asked Joy.

  “Since Alice started, yes. She insisted on it, saying that Sally wanted to sit down and eat, not wait for service. She said Sally was a busy woman, and she wanted the food on the table, ready to go. Sally seemed to like the new arrangement, but then, she liked anyone who doted on her.” Kate caught herself sounding snippy, and she bit her lip.

  “Who set the menu?” asked Max.

  “Alice faxed me the menu the day before. Sally had selected the items: mushroom soup—it truly was Sally’s favorite—she ordered it practically every time she came here.”

  Max stopped writing and glared at Kate. Joy glared at Max.

  “Right,” Kate continued. “Then there was a wild-greens salad, a lobster roll sandwich, and chocolate mousse topped with blueberries for dessert.”

  Max checked his notes taken from the incident report. “Sally, Elliot, Lizzy, and Todd. Anyone else at the table?”

  Kate shook her head. “No, but Alice stayed close by to supervise. I stopped by to say hello. So did Red and the boys—who didn’t want to—but I made them. Hospitality is near sacred to me. The rest of the world can fall apart, but if we can’t be hospitable, we’re all lost.”

  Joy softened her voice. “How was Sally at lunchtime?”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Her usual bitter self.” Kate slapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head before letting her hand fall. “Do not speak ill of the dead, Katherine. I’m so sorry. Sally was healthy, if that’s what you mean? Her eyes were uneven, like she couldn’t open one eye as much as the other. And, come to think of it, she sent her soup back to be reheated.”

  “Who took it back to the kitchen?” asked Max.

  Kate tensed. “I did, but I handed it off to one of the cooks from there and told him to personally deliver it with our sincerest apologies.”

  “We’ll need that name,” said Max.

  “Jeffrey. He should be here by now. I’ll send him down,” said Kate.

  “Then what?” asked Joy.

  “I only came around twice. Once to greet them and again to see if everything was all right. Lizzy raved about the meal. Oh! I do remember something. When I stepped up at the end, Todd said to Lizzy, ‘Just think about it,’ and Sally added, ‘Think of your boys. They need you.’ Lizzy hung around to visit with me for a minute afterward. We sat at the bar, and Red poured us a sampling, saying it was her birthday and he insisted. I asked Lizzy, ‘What are you supposed to think about?’ It was nosy of me. But Lizzy shrugged it off, saying, ‘The usual—Sally thinks now that Danny has passed, I should sell my shares to her and enjoy life.’”

  “Was she going to sell?” asked Max.

  Kate waved a hand. “She’d never sell. We laughed about it. We joked about how ‘generous and thoughtful’ her sister could be to think of her best interests.” Kate shook her head. “I’m an awful person.”

  “No,” admonished Max. “It helps us find her killer if you tell us the truth.”

  Joy picked up the pace to keep Kate on track. “And after lunch, how did the day unfold?”

  “I left the winery early, maybe four o’clock. Rosa and I set to work. Maria got there next. Then Alice, a very sweet girl, had us laughing with a Sally impression or two. It wasn’t as disrespectful as it sounds. No task was too small for her. Todd popped in but not for long. Red answered the door. I don’t know the order of arrivals after that. Red came in and I sent him to set up the bar. Logan and Matteo insisted on arranging the appetizers—crackers, olives, cheeses, grapes—the usual. Cathy and Liam popped in, and I sent them outside—too many cooks in the kitchen. Lizzy and her sons, Oliver and Rio, arrived around six, and then I shooed the family out of the kitchen and we joined Lizzy on the patio. Sally and Elliot were already there, so I don’t know when they arrived. You two and that nice young man, Reed, came last.”

  “How was Sally then?” asked Joy.

  “At the time, I thought she was pissed. You know, a wee bit tanked-up.” Kate’s Scottish mannerisms had settled into an easy flow as she relaxed and tried to recall events. “But now that I think about it, she might have been ill already. Was she? She rubbed her stomach a time or two and seemed uncomfortable. I asked her if I could fetch an antacid, but she said she’d already taken a couple.

  “The rest you know.” Kate’s face turned ashen. “I admit, I loathed the woman. But I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t kill anyone.”

  “That’s all we need for now.” Max maintained eye contact with Joy, whose brown-black reptilian eyes poised, ready to strike at the proper moment. “Send Red down, will you.”

  Kate rose from the chair. Once up the stairs and out of sight, Max slumped back in his chair and tossed his pen on the table. He tried to preempt Joy’s attack. “I’m sorry. I underestimated how tough this would be.”

  “I know, Max. But you have to keep your mind open—she could be the killer.”

  Max didn’t answer. His brain overloaded trying to process the thought, trying to set it in place with all of the amazing moments he’d shared with Kate and the Raedwald family over the years. He felt like a traitor.

  13

  Red pulled out the chair with force. It scraped the ground with an unpleasant sound, and he sat back, arms folded. “Kate said you’re acting like she kille
d Sally. She said you found hemlock along the fence line next to her garden.”

  As Max stammered, Joy jumped in to resolve the conflict. “Max, go see if you can find Jeffrey. I’ll speak with Red.”

  Max had once received the brunt end of Red’s anger, when, as a boy, he plucked a bunch of grapes without asking. He received a blast of admonition, which even in Red’s lilting Scottish brogue, crashed over his head in a flogging about his poor manners. David King stood by and silently applauded. Max knew when no words existed that would appease Red. Max scooped up his notebook and pen and left without saying a word.

  “Red, I know this is upsetting, but Max did not accuse Kate. Max and I are doing our job—and that is to find Sally’s killer. You owe him an apology.”

  As if by magic, Joy’s words of rebuke broke Red’s resolve.

  Red let out a heavy sigh, uncrossed his arms, and scooched his chair forward. “I know. But that’s my Kate. She’s got a mouth on her that has kept me and our boys in line, but she’s no killer. That hemlock must have grown wild—bad timing—but not premeditated murder.”

  “It grows wild. We know that. If you want to help Kate, then help me find Sally’s killer.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “Tell me what you remember of Friday lunch and dinner.”

  Red ran through the list of arrivals. He had nothing new to add, since he had basically stayed clear of the kitchen.

  “Send my partner back. I need him. And send one of the boys down.” Joy’s firm voice put Red into submission.

  “I’m sorry, about…about the way I…”

  “It’s okay, Red. I understand.”

  Red nodded.

  Max returned and sat down. “I spoke to Jeffrey. He did as instructed. He microwaved the soup and returned it to the table with apologies.”

  “How’d Sally take it?”