A Riesling to Die

by J. C. Eaton

  “Well, here we are,” he said. “It’ll only take me another minute to go all the way up the hill.”

  “Thanks, but this is fine. Tell John I said hello.”

  I closed the truck door behind me and glanced at the rear windshield. A faded decal from SUNY Cobleskill was barely legible along with a smaller one that looked like a helmet. On the rear bumper was a dog-eared oval sticker that read I (heart) PY. His truck must’ve been older than I thought because the Penn Yan Chamber of Commerce had changed that sticker design eons ago. The new ones were everywhere, including our tasting room and, if I remembered correctly, even on the brochure table at the Peaceful Pines. Yep, everyone loved Penn Yan.

  I waved at Peter and walked back to the house, fuming. How dare Lucas Stilton send surveyors when I hadn’t even signed that contract. Not that I ever was going to sign it, but what did they know? I took a breath, composed myself and popped a K-cup into the Keurig. There was no way I’d be able to go back to sleep.

  It was imperative I came up with something to stall the contract process but what? Even Theo had to admit the document was flawless. I paced around the kitchen for the full minute it took my coffee to brew. Then I spent another minute adding the right amount of sugar and cream. Lots of both. It was going to be one of those days.

  The instant I swallowed the first sip of coffee, it hit me. Vanna Enterprises would need to spell out exactly what my obligations would be as a partner. They seriously didn’t expect me to work for them, did they? And what about the current employees at Two Witches? I couldn’t very well leave them out in the lurch. At least as far as Lucas and Declan thought.

  In the five minutes it took me to finish my coffee, I had already come up with additions and clarifications to the contract. I bit my lip and opened a clean page in Microsoft Word. No sooner did I type the words Contractual Additions when the phone rang. It was too early for the tasting room crew, but Franz sometimes arrived at the break of dawn, not to mention the vineyard workers.

  I picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Norrie, It’s John. We need to talk.”

  The four worst words in the English language. I rubbed my temples and took a breath. “What’s up?”

  “You tell me. I stopped at the gas station to grab a cup of coffee on my way in and ran into Carson and Minolo’s surveyors. I overheard them talking about having to reschedule Two Witches Winery. Norrie, what’s going on? Are Francine and Jason planning on selling the property and the business?”

  There was no sense fabricating something. Besides, I was too overwrought to come up with an excuse he’d buy. John had been with this family since before I was born. He’d see right through me. “It’s a long, complicated story.”

  “Give me the abbreviated version.”

  He was absolutely quiet at his end of the line while I explained in detail how I planned to get a confession out of Declan by dangling the winery in front of him like some sort of jewel.

  “So you see,” I went on, “there’s really nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about! Are you kidding? And they already drew up a preemptory contract?”

  “Like I said, I’m not signing anything. I’d never do that. No matter how many dead bodies show up in our vineyard.”

  “You’d better be right, Norrie. One wrong move and it’ll mean financial ruin for your family and unemployment for the rest of us. By the way, were Lucas and Declan aware that the winemaker and vineyard manager have retirement plans from Two Witches?”

  “Um, no, but they will be. Not that it matters. None of this matters. It’s simply a ruse.”

  “All right. I’ll try to catch you later. If not, tomorrow. If you must know, this ruse of yours is scaring the hell out of me. Did anyone else see those surveyors?”

  “Peter. But I told him the surveyors made a mistake. Oh, and Travis and Robbie.”

  “Geez. I hate lying. Let’s hope none of them bring it up.”

  My hands were sweating when I got off the phone and my heart was beating faster than usual. What had started out as a ploy that would only involve a few people was now turning into a genuine convoluted mess. I had to move things along before everything imploded.

  For the next two hours and forty minutes, I wrote a complete addendum to the contract. That included the time I needed to agonize over it. I clarified my role as a silent but voting partner and spelled out the financial remuneration for all of the employees at Two Witches. I even added a clause that stated Vanna Enterprises would assume the retirement obligation for the two managerial positions at the winery. All in all, it would’ve made a decent screenplay under the nebulous category of “drama,” had I written it in dialogue.

  “It’s got the right legal jargon,” Theo said when I read it to him.

  “Good enough for me. Style is everything.”

  I was positive Lucas and Declan would tell me to pound salt, but it gave me a decent starting point for the conversation I knew I was going to have with Declan sometime during the week. After all, Arden did say Declan planned on securing the contract and I was on his time schedule.

  Satisfied with my revisions, I rinsed off, slipped into clean clothes and walked directly to the tasting room. That ridiculous séance of Glenda’s was creeping up on me, and I had to speak with her.

  Cammy waved me over as soon as I walked in the door. “Where’ve you been hiding? I feel as if we haven’t spoken in ages. Did Declan call you?”

  “Not yet but he will. I met with their attorney. Well, one of them. Arden Grant. And Theo was there as my legal consul.”

  “Theo from the Grey Egret?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He has a law degree?”

  “Not exactly. Anyway, I think Arden Grant is on our side.”

  “Okay. Let me know when you’re going to see Declan so I can round up Marc and Enzo again. I think they really enjoyed going undercover, so to speak.”

  “I will. Listen, I’ve got to talk with Glenda. I really need to know exactly what she has planned.”

  “Good idea. Tell her to send her customers to my table. I’ll cover for her.”

  Just then, two blondes, who looked more like teens than legal-age drinkers, approached Cammy’s table.

  “Hi and welcome! Do you mind showing me your driver’s licenses?”

  “I told you we should do this more often,” the shorter-haired blonde said to the other. “This is the only place where we look young.”

  They both held out their licenses and beamed. Twenty-two years old. No wonder they looked young.

  “Do you have Zinfandel? I love pink Zinfandel,” the other one said.

  Cammy went on to explain that Zinfandel wasn’t grown in the Finger Lakes but we had similar wines they might enjoy. I gave her a thumbs-up and walked over to Glenda’s table.

  Glenda was bent down, returning some bottles to the small fridge underneath her tasting room table. All I could see were waves of turquoise and purple hair woven into her natural gray color. When she lifted her head, I noted the red lipstick was now a deeper shade of mauve and the hoop earrings had been replaced with what looked like coiled snakes.

  “Norrie! Finally! I was hoping you’d stop in. We’re all set for the séance. Actually, it will be more of a conjuring than a séance, although I will be casting a protective circle. It’s not an evocation. We certainly don’t want to invite evil spirits, although Elsbeth isn’t exactly what one would call benevolent.”

  “So, let me get this straight. You and the tasting room crew, along with Emma and Fred from the bistro and Herbert from the winery lab will be going up to the vineyard area where Elsbeth’s body was discovered and then what?”

  “First, a purification ritual. We’ll light sage and lavender sticks to purify the air.”

  “Don’t drop them on the ground. We don’t need to purify by f
ire.”

  “Understood. Then I’ll lead the chanting of the souls. It’s an ancient summoning call that sounds somewhat like animals keening.”

  Terrific. Just what every winery needs.

  Glenda looked unfazed. “This particular summoning builds and builds with intensity until the spirit, in this case Elsbeth, is loosened from the tethers that bind her and is released into our realm, albeit temporarily. Then, at that point, we will thank her and ask her to tell us or show us who was responsible for her death.”

  “Uh, not to sound pedantic, but how exactly is she supposed to do that?”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised. Spirits have their ways. It might be as simple as a gust of wind that carries the aroma of someone’s perfume. Or if, heaven forbid, it was one of us, they might start to choke or cough without stopping. With spirits you simply never know.”

  “Okay. Just don’t go near the vineyard rows or aisles. You’ll have to conduct this conjuring or séance a few yards away. And I think Peter may show up to make sure everyone keeps off of the Riesling vines.”

  “I understand. That’s why it’s so important we do a full crescendo of the chanting of the souls.”

  And if we’re lucky, maybe someone’s backyard fireworks will drown it out.

  “You will be there, of course, won’t you?”

  I did a mental eye roll and nodded. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “It’s our last chance, Norrie. Keep that in mind. Elsbeth’s spirit is slipping farther and farther away. The energy from the Fourth of July won’t last past that evening.”

  I don’t know if any of us will last past that evening…

  I told Glenda how much I appreciated her efforts and made a beeline for the bistro. Nothing like a decent panini to bring things back to reality.

  When I got back to the house, I took a cool shower and focused on my screenplay. Charlie was happily snoring from his dog bed and, for a few minutes, I actually felt a sense of bliss. That ended abruptly when the phone rang.

  “Miss Ellington…Norrie, it’s me, Declan. Hope you’re doing well. I’ve been tied up with business for the past few days, but I heard everything went well with Arden Grant.”

  “Um, yes. It did. He’s very nice.”

  “He informed us you brought along your legal consul and that was a smart thing to do. I trust you’ve had a chance to review the contract in depth?”

  “I did. I mean, we did.”

  “And?”

  “Uh, it was direct and to the point.”

  “So, you’re all right with it.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “The contract fails to explain my role as a partner and doesn’t address the current employees at Two Witches. It will need revision.”

  There was silence at his end of the phone and I held my breath.

  Finally, Declan spoke. “Would you or your attorney fax me your revisions and I’ll have Armstrong, Patel, Smolowitz and Tarrow incorporate those changes. Unless, of course, it’s something we simply cannot do and I’ll let you know. You have our fax number, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I have all of your business information.”

  “Wonderful. How about this? You get that fax to us this afternoon and you and I can meet to discuss everything at dinner later this week.”

  “Dinner? At night?”

  “Of course at night. My schedule is packed, and I won’t have time during the day for a lunch meeting. I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll make reservations for us at Belhurst Castle. That’s only three or four miles from Two Witches.”

  “I know where it is. It’s a major landmark around here.” Not to mention one of the most expensive, highly rated restaurants on Seneca Lake.

  “Let’s make it the day after tomorrow. Eight o’clock?”

  “Um, sure. Eight would be fine.”

  “Then it’s settled. Belhurst at eight. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Likewise.” Likewise? Why do I always wind up saying things I don’t mean when I talk to him?

  The day after tomorrow. Boy, Vanna Enterprises certainly had their lawyers on a short leash. For the rest of us in the real world, these things took weeks. Sometimes months. I printed my addendum to the contract and raced down the driveway to use the office fax machine.

  Cammy and the crew were finishing up in the tasting room when I walked in. I motioned for her to join me in the office and I closed the door behind us.

  “I don’t suppose Marc and Enzo can make it to Belhurst Castle on Thursday night? I’m willing to pay for their dinners if they don’t go overboard.”

  “They’d be punching each other on the arms for something like that, but it’s a work night for them and impossible to find substitutes.”

  “Yeah, I sort of figured as much, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

  I told her about my call from Declan and the addendum I was about to fax.

  “What about Theo and Don?” she asked. “It wouldn’t look that unusual for them to be going out to dinner at Belhurst.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to take that chance. Worst case scenario, I can always excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room and call them.”

  “Make sure your phone is charged. By the way, are you copacetic with Glenda’s glimpse to the world beyond?”

  “Yeah. Might as well get that over with. Next thing you know, Lizzie will want to teach me Morse Code.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a Nancy Drew thing. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  If Vanna Enterprises worked at breakneck speed to incorporate my addendum into the partnership contract, God knows what else they were capable of doing. I figured I’d get one step closer to learning on Thursday night and, with any luck, eke out a confession from Declan. Or so I thought.

  Chapter 25

  “You sure you have our number on speed dial?” Theo asked.

  It was seven thirty on Thursday and I was on my way to Belhurst Castle.

  “I do. I’m all set.”

  “Remember, whatever you do, no matter what he says, don’t sign anything. Not even the dinner receipt if you’re charging it to a credit card. Make him pay.”

  “Whoa. That didn’t even cross my mind.”

  “Call us the minute you get back. I don’t care how late it is. Okay?”

  “I will. Don’t worry. And thanks.”

  Francine and Jason were right. Having Theo and Don on my side felt darn good. Cammy, too, for that matter. I drove slowly to Belhurst Castle, my eyes drifting across the road to Seneca Lake. A few sailboats were making their way to shore, although the sun wouldn’t set for another hour. If the weather held out for the Fourth of July, the lake would be filled with boats and partygoers.

  The winding road that led to Belhurst Castle looked like something out of a fairytale with its tall pine trees and smaller deciduous ones. The structure was once a private residence built in Romanesque Revival style with towers, arches and bays. The neat thing I remembered about it was the fact it was a speakeasy during Prohibition. Rumors abounded that it was part of the Underground Railroad, although that couldn’t be proven. Still, it was listed in the National Register of Historic Places. The last time I was there was for my senior class prom. Yikes. Ages ago.

  Declan was waiting for me in the formal lobby and we were both escorted immediately to our table overlooking the lake. I ordered tonic water with lime and fidgeted nervously hoping Declan would start the conversation.

  “You look lovely tonight, Norrie.”

  Francine will be glad to hear that. It’s her teal sheath. A tad shorter on me due to our height difference, but what’s a little leg among friends? “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” And that suit must cost some people a month’s salary.


  “Well, you’ll be relieved to know we can incorporate your addendum wishes into the contract. Armstrong, Patel, Smolowitz and Tarrow will be FedExing you another copy. You should receive it sometime tomorrow morning. I thought perhaps we could meet at one of the banks so our signatures can be notarized. I’ll call you after noon to make those arrangements.”

  Okay. Good news. Bad news. He didn’t bring anything for me to sign tonight but, unless a major earthquake hits the Finger Lakes tomorrow, I’m going to be in deep trouble.

  Given how fast he was moving, I had to get that damn confession out of him. My stomach began to tighten. I’d better order something light.

  “I’ll have the herb-roasted chicken salad,” I told the waiter.

  “You sure that’s all you want?” Declan asked. “You’re making me feel guilty. I’m ordering prime rib.”

  “The salad’s fine. It’s got walnuts and grapes. All sorts of neat tastes.”

  “If that’s what you’d like…”

  I took a sip of my drink and looked Declan straight in the eyes. “I’m on your side, now. Nondisclosure agreement and all.”

  “You won’t regret your decision. This move will catapult you into a whole new life experience.”

  “I actually like the one I have.”

  “You asked to be a silent partner, but should you decide to change your mind, our attorneys have written language to address that.”

  I clasped my hands together and folded over my fingers, leaning my head into the table. “I hope the language was clear to include remunerations for my sister and brother-in-law.”

  “It was and it does. Stop worrying and enjoy your meal. The artisan breads are scrumptious.”

  I reached for one of the butter pats and hoped Declan didn’t catch the slight tremor in my hand. This wasn’t as deadly as my lunch with Lucas Stilton, but it was getting close. Declan talked a bit about his plans for the mega-winery and I nodded politely, trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say that would make him crack.

  Our meals arrived and we ate quietly, sticking only to small talk. When the waiter cleared the table and took our coffee orders, I clenched my teeth, swallowed and reached my hand across the table, giving Declan’s a quick squeeze. Judging from his expression, I caught him completely off guard.