“There is so much more!” Mitch admitted. “Did you know that Father William Esposito was killed ten years ago this week?”
“What? Someone was killed here?”
While Mitch looked excited, Roman was watching her.
“Yes! They never found his killer. Someone said he was hit on the head, shoved down those very stairs, and then buried in his crypt in the little chapel on the property. We just know he’s going to show up.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear.”
“Well, if he likes quiche, he certainly will. These things are killer!” she exclaimed, appearing to blow off the man’s information.
“Roman! You love this kind of thing!”
Tori definitely knew who was wearing the pants in that relationship. It appeared the Mitch was the one who dragged Roman there for their little retreat. He looked just about as bored as Julian was getting liquored up on wine.
“You don’t believe in ghosts either?” she asked him.
“I believe that I love wine,” he replied, waving the nearest waiter toward them. When Cordell arrived, he grabbed two more glasses of the amber liquid. “Thank you.”
“No problem, sir,” he stated, right before heading off.
“I love it here,” Mitch said, grabbing some morsel from the table. “Can you believe that Sheila? Look at her over there showing everyone what the good Lord didn't give her.”
Tori nearly choked on her cider. Now they were getting somewhere. “Yeah, I saw it up close and personal today when we arrived. In fact, so did my husband. She certainly doesn’t mind flaunting that body of hers.”
Mitch didn't stop, and that made Tori really happy.
“Keep your eyes on your man, girl. She’s a man-eater. Poor Daniel doesn’t see her for what she is.”
Tori was intrigued. “And that is?”
“Gold digger!” they both sang together.
Then there was laughter as they clinked their glasses off each other.
Yeah, she wasn’t shocked that other people noticed. Tori watched the woman in action, and while most of it seemed to be friendly, she could see her eyeing up the males in the room. Plus, she didn't even pay attention to the man she was married to--or his kids.
Mommy didn't like being a mommy.
She could read it a mile away.
“So the place is haunted?” Tori asked, drawing their attention back to something that would help her.
“Yes! I’ve heard from some of the staff that weird things happen here,” Mitch said.
Roman elbowed him. “Muffin, stop gossiping. I’m sure Mrs. Littlemoon isn't in the mood to hear about silly things like this, are you?”
She smelled a trap. There was no doubt in her mind that Roman was trying to see what she was up to. Oh, he was a smart man, but she was better at this game.
“Yeah, I’m really not. I’ve had too much mystery the last few months. I’m really here just to eat and watch my husband drink copious amounts of wine.”
Roman immediately looked disappointed.
Yeah, she wasn’t that easy to fool. He wasn’t picking her brain on any cases or hearsay of ghosts.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to mingle,” Tori offered, grabbing a few delicious morsels to go.
“Maybe we can have brunch together tomorrow,” Mitch offered.
“Oh, yes! Please?” Roman added. “We promise not to ask about any of your cases.”
Tori didn't buy that.
These two were curious, and that reeked of trouble.
“We absolutely can do that,” she stated. “Now, enjoy your wine!”
With that, she escaped.
She could feel their eyes on her as she crossed the room, and it piqued her interest. Something was up. There was no doubt about it.
Now Tori only hoped her husband was having a better time at getting information. So far, she was coming up with nothing.
Later, she’d have to speak to Bethany.
Was there a dead priest haunting the place?
If there was, how come he didn't show up and make himself known?
That was one question only the dead could answer.
* * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *
Julian headed toward the bar as he sipped his wine. When they got home, he was going to have to cleanse his unrefined palate with beer. This wine thing was a little out of his league. While they all sang of the fruity undertones, he was confused.
It was made from grapes.
Weren’t they fruit?
Wasn’t that a given?
As he took a seat and drank the wine, he listened to the man behind the counter. This must be Reid Ramsey, and from their dossier, he was supposed to know his wine inside and out.
“This is an earthier wine,” he offered, turning the bottle to show them. “We began the recipe two years ago, and it’s one of our most popular ones. Here, you should all try it and let me know what you think. Did we nail it?”
Julian didn't want more, but what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could say no, or dump it in some potted plant.
God!
If only…
As they listened to the man behind the counter talk about the coffee note hidden behind the musky overtones of oak, Julian noticed the owner’s daughter moving closer.
At first, it appeared that she was listening and enjoying the wine, but then she did something so low key that only Julian caught it.
She slipped something into the man’s back pocket, right before grabbing his ass. It wasn’t a pat, but a full-handed feel. The man didn't even flinch.
Curious.
It looked like he was accustomed to being felt up by the boss’s daughter.
“Isn’t this the same wine that AngelCake sells?” some woman asked, as she flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “My girlfriends and I drink a lot of it.”
Julian glanced over, and there was some bored looking housewife. Her husband was right beside her, and he was too busy checking out Pearlie’s assets to notice his wife was being condescending.
“We’ve been told there’s a similarity, Mrs. Bunchen, but I’ve never had it, so I can’t attest to it. I promise that this wine was the flagship created when the winery opened, so I’m pretty sure ours came first.”
Did Julian detect a little hostility?
He knew there were issues between the two wineries, but could it be because of the wine formula?
Did it matter?
“It just tastes the same to me,” she continued. “I drink a great deal of wine, and I know my grapes.”
“Allene, knock it off,” stated her husband. “It’s wine for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t stress it. Just enjoy it. In fact, have some more.”
The man poured an entire glass and slid it to her.
“Thank you, Brandon,” she said, glaring at him with nothing but animosity in her eyes.
Interesting.
That wasn’t a happy couple.
Julian made a mental note.
“I hear the AngelCake vineyard is right next to this one,” he began, digging for dirt.
“It is, but they’re on the downslope, and that affects the grapes. They really aren’t our competition,” Reid admitted. “They try, but when you sell your wine with a gimmick and for less than ten dollars a bottle, you really aren’t in the same league.”
Julian soaked it all in.
“I heard you were having some issues here--theft. Do you think they’re behind it?”
Reid wiped the counter. “I wouldn’t doubt it. After all, they can’t match our product. Why not try and destroy it?”
Yeah, he had a very good point. At some point, Julian and Tori were going to have to take a trip to AngelCake winery. They’d be digging there too.
“Reid, can I have some of the white?” Julian asked, getting his attention. “I’m not big into reds.” If he had to drink, he didn't want something that was going to give him a hangover in the morning.
The man smiled at him. “Abso
lutely, Mr. Littlemoon,” he said, pulling the cork out of a bottle.
At the mention of his name, everyone looked over.
“Are you the same Littlemoon as the man who was on the news?” Brandon Bunchen asked, sipping his wine. “You know… the detective?”
“Private investigator, and yes.”
Reid poured the wine. “Try this, sir.”
Julian wanted to blend, but obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. He certainly wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t like his last name was a common one.
“Is there something going on here?” Brandon asked curiously. “Are you working on something?”
Julian shook his head. “Nope, I’m not. My wife and I are just taking a little break. We needed a vacation, and I love wine.”
Oh, the lies.
“Oh,” stated Brandon. “That’s too bad. We could use some excitement here. I don’t know why I let Allene talk me into this. Give me beer any day.”
Reid looked insulted.
“I don’t know much about it,” Julian added, “but we’re trying to learn. My wife can’t drink now, but she loves nature, and we can’t wait to get out and explore the vineyard. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“That it is, sir,” Reid stated. “We grow the best grapes. While you’re out there, try a few right from the vine. I guarantee you’ll understand why we produce the best wine. It’s all in the grapes and that magical soil.”
Julian really didn't care, but he tried to look like he did. He was more curious about the man behind the counter, and the game of grab ass he’d seen.
“We absolutely will,” he stated. “Can I have another glass of sparkling cider for my wife? I need to find her, and I’m sure she could use some more.”
The man poured, and Julian made his escape. He only hoped that Tori was having more luck.
Nothing was falling into his lap but crumbs. Hopefully, he could string them all together.
* * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *
Tori headed toward the owner and the three people mingling with him. She could tell one was an employee because he was holding two bottles in his hands. The other two had to be guests. They looked like tourists.
The woman was checking the place out as her husband guzzled wine and drunkenly asked questions. As she approached, the owner of the vineyard looked grateful she was there.
“Mrs. Littlemoon, I was looking for you. I had to tell you about something that happened today.”
She figured it was about the wine glasses that started popping all around her brother. “Oh, Mr. Nelms, I’ve already heard. Don’t worry about it.” She hoped he got her meaning.
They were all over it.
“Where are my manners?” he asked, waving toward the two guests. “This is Mrs. Wirth, and her husband.”
Tori shook their hands. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Please, call me Cara, and this is Gino. We’re from New York. I love vineyards, and this is a romantic getaway for us.”
She smiled. “I’m Tori, and this is my husband Julian,” she stated, catching his approach to her side.
“Are you the two people from the news?” the drunken man asked. “You look familiar.”
Again, they explained that they were simply on holiday. Apparently, they should be wearing nametags that explained just that. It was getting old, and fast.
“And you are?” Tori asked, directing her comment at the employee.
Immediately, he warmly smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Isaiah Martel. I’m the general manager here at the vineyard. I guess you can say I’m Daniel’s right hand man.”
They noticed that the men both smiled. Apparently, they were friends--of sorts.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you both,” he said, topping Julian’s glass off as he explained the vintage.
Tori was amused, since Julian was getting that glossy eyed look. She grabbed a mini quiche off her plate and offered it to him. Half a granola bar wasn’t going to suffice. Her husband was getting looped.
Julian ate it and then placed his half-full glass of wine on the passing tray. While he was going to give his wife the cider, he figured he should start watering down the booze in his gut.
“Thanks, babe,” he offered, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“When we saw you on TV, we weren’t sure you were really a couple. You two look like you don’t match,” stated Cara Wirth. “I own a matchmaking business, and I’m big into couples,” she added. “No offense.”
Tori lifted a brow. “Why don’t we look like a couple?” she asked, glancing over at her husband. While he wasn’t the largest man there, they fit together perfectly. Their hips lined up, their lips lined up, and more importantly, their hearts did too.
“I would have set him up with someone of his ethnicity, that’s all,” she stated.
Julian sipped the cider. “So, an Indian? Let me assure you that I’ve dated plenty. Tori is my soul mate, so you would have lost my business.”
Gino elbowed his wife. “Cara!” he hissed, “Knock it off!”
“I’m just being honest. They don’t look good together. The man should be more…beefy. I would have just gone with a different premise, that’s all.”
Tori felt Julian tense beside her.
She knew he was thinking about what the woman was saying. Yeah, he wasn’t a giant, but they were average sized people, and she never had a problem with it.
Ever.
Her husband was hot, and she didn't mind in the least that they were the same height. To reassure him, she turned to kiss him. When her one hand slid into his silky brown hair, they melded together.
The kiss was scorching.
It nearly melted the paint off the walls.
When Tori broke away, she glanced over at the woman. “That’s something you don’t find on a matchmaking test. It’s actual chemistry. You should try it some time. You’re way too tall and bulky for your husband.”
She stared openmouthed at the insult she handed back to her.
Tori didn't care. Two could play at that game, and she wasn’t going to let some stranger judge her marriage.
Hell no.
“If you’ll excuse us,” she said, walking away with Julian’s hand in hers. “Before you say anything,” Tori warned, “I wanted to punch her in the face. That was the best option to keep us off the local news as the local law had me in the back of their cruiser.”
Julian dropped down on a couch not far from where they were serving alcohol. “You can kiss me anytime. I’m not going to complain. I happen to like my wife all over me.”
She sat beside him.
“Want a sip?” he offered. “It’s cider. I’m officially drunk.”
Tori giggled. “Maybe we can head up to our room after dinner and you can show me how drunk you really are, Mr. Littlemoon.”
He dropped his arm over her shoulder. “Is what she said true?” he asked, unable to help it.
Tori leaned into him. “Jules, we’re perfect. You’re the average sized man. Three inches, and you’d be six feet tall, but what does that matter? We’re both the same size. I happen to think that you’re compact, and that’s sexy. Besides, I’d take you over her husband any day. He was some trophy Italian she picked up. You’re in better shape than him. Have I ever complained that you’re less than perfect?”
It must be the wine.
It was bringing out all his insecurities. Before that moment, he never questioned any of this. After all, he was accustomed to the Ethan’s and Callen’s of the world. Most of their friends were built like brick shithouses, and he wasn’t.
“If you say so.”
“Well, if you want I can go find someone else,” she offered, “but then you have to live with it.”
His eyes fired. “Not happening, Victoria.”
She laughed. “Gee, you think? I’ve seen you fight, and you’ve seen me kicking ass. We’re perfect. Stop stressing it.”
He would.
“Maybe I can have another kiss?�
�� he asked. “You know, to help heal my offended sensibilities.”
Tori laughed. “Hell yeah, you can.”
With that, he sunk into the warmth of Tori’s lips and embrace. When this case was over, he was never drinking wine again. It obviously made him crazy.
As his wife helped heal the cracks in his heart, Julian tried to ignore the worry in his heart.
Despite his wife’s words, he was bothered.
How could he not be?
She was his all.
* * * L i t t l e m o o n * * *
When she pulled up to the winery, she had a pounding headache. Nyx was pretty sure she was going to start bleeding from the ears and eyes at any moment. The pain was making it damn hard to think, let alone prepare herself for what the dead man wanted.
“Shhhhhh!” she hissed.
Unfortunately, the ghost speaking to her wouldn’t shut up, and it was going to be the death of her.
Literally.
She couldn’t eat.
She couldn’t sleep.
It was wearing her down.
What wouldn’t she give to have some silence? That had once been her life, but now she was forced to play voice box for the disturbed and angry.
She needed a break.
Getting out of her car, she stumbled her way up the walk and to the building. As she peered in from the outside, she could see the guests walking around with wine and smiles on their faces.
God!
It had been so long since she’d felt happy.
Years.
Why couldn’t she be a part of that, and not the pathetic person staring in from behind the glass? Reality settled in.
That part of her life was never coming back.
It was stolen.
Lost.
GONE.
As she placed her hand on the door handle, she shushed the voice in her head.
“If you don’t stop, I can’t talk to him. Zip it!”
He obviously knew she meant business, because the sounds of his voice diminished, but didn't stop. Well, at least it was a little bit of a break. She might be able to get through this cockamamie plan of his.
Truth Is Found Page 10
