“Yes, that’s right,” Sadie said. At this point, it seemed best to be upfront with the Tremiatos.
“You didn’t mention that when you were here before.”
“It didn’t come up,” Sadie replied. “I was here to get away, to sample some good wines and spend time in the country. My focus wasn’t on my boutique.” It wasn’t a lie. Granted, she’d never offered that information outright. But they’d never asked her directly.
“Then you know about the sale,” Luisa said. “Well, the sale that fell through. Matteo must have mentioned that to you.”
“Actually, no,” Sadie said. “I didn’t know about that until I read about it in the paper. My friendship with Matteo mostly involves our relationship as neighbors and business owners, and he’s never shared much personal information. I was only vaguely aware that his family even owned a winery.”
“That sounds like Matteo,” Luisa said. “Always off in his own world.”
“He does love what he’s doing,” Sadie offered, a gentle defense of her friend.
“Well, that’s nice for him,” Luisa said.
Nothing in her voice hit Sadie as sincere.
“Our mother was furious that Matteo was willing to sell,” Luisa added.
“Stefano told me he was also willing to sell at first. Was she upset with him?” Sadie was sure Luisa would defend Stefano somehow, a direct contrast to the attitude toward Matteo.
“That was different,” Luisa said. “He was just looking out for our mother’s best interests.” Quite the contrast from her attitude toward Matteo, but not a surprising one.
“Wasn’t that what Matteo was doing?” Some unexpected sense of fortitude, or perhaps loyalty to her friend, encouraged Sadie to push for more explanation.
“No,” Luisa said firmly. “Matteo has never cared about this family. If he had, he’d have stayed here to help run the winery. Instead he chose to run off and make candy.”
Ah, Sadie thought. So chocolate is frivolous?
“Have you ever tried his chocolate?” Sadie asked. “It’s quite remarkable. Customers line up out the door for it. His raspberry truffles, for example, simply melt in…”
“No. And I don’t care to,” Luisa said, cutting Sadie off. “I’ve never been fond of chocolate, anyway.”
“Yet you carry it here in your gift section,” Sadie pointed out.
“Yes, because other people are fond of it. It’s good business.”
“But you don’t carry Matteo’s chocolates, which are popular at many gourmet shops.” Sadie watched as color began to flood Luisa’s cheeks. Just as she hoped, she was breaking through the woman’s icy surface.
“Of course not!” Luisa snapped, then lowered her voice as the other customers turned their heads. “Why should we support him when he won’t even support his own family?”
Sadie took a sip of sparkling water and changed the subject. “I suspect your lawyer leaned in the direction of selling, though he did a good job of laying out objective information. At least that’s what Stefano said when I saw him at The Grapevine.”
“Nick isn’t a high-pressure type of man,” Luisa said, her voice softening a bit. “Flanagan was the one who was pushy. He shouldn’t have even been in sales, not with that attitude. He almost acted desperate to get us to sell, like an overly aggressive used car salesman.”
Sadie had to agree with this. She’d always disliked sales reps who pressured her to bring their clothing or accessory lines into her boutique. Sometimes she even turned down items she might have otherwise carried just because the sales rep turned her off.
“Well, lawyers do like to get those legal fees, you know. A big sale could mean a good commission.” Sadie watched as Luisa thought about her response.
Luisa shook her head. “Nick’s not like that. He’s already well to do. He represents half the wineries and restaurants in this area. He’s an excellent lawyer who comes from a family full of lawyers. His motivation isn’t money. He’s dedicated to giving his clients the best possible representation.”
Spoken like a person in love, Sadie thought.
“So he followed in his family’s footsteps, like any good son would,” Sadie said.
“Exactly,” Luisa replied. “Or any good daughter, for that matter. Nick’s parents wanted his older sister to go into law, as well. Instead she went into show biz. His parents were very disappointed. I would never do that to our family.”
“No, I can see that,” Sadie said, pausing. “What about Tina?”
“What about her?”
“She’s a Tremiato,” Sadie offered. “But she doesn’t help here at the winery, does she?”
“Tina is not a Tremiato.” Luisa’s voice was firm.
“She married into your family.”
“Exactly. Just because her name changed doesn’t make her one of us.” Luisa sighed, seeming tired. She moved down the counter to help Angelo set up glasses for a group of eight people who had just entered.
Since both Luisa and Angelo were busy, Sadie browsed the gift area. While admiring a set of corkboard coasters, she pondered whether any of the Tremiatos, other than Matteo, were happy with anything at all, including each other. Other than Stefano’s flirtatious grins, had she ever seen any of them sport a sincere smile? Or speak kindly – as opposed to defensively – about each other? It almost felt as if the family were some type of club, that they felt they had to stick together, whether they wanted to or not. Yet they were quick to cast people out, at least the sister was. In Luisa’s view, Matteo was out, Tina was out, and anyone who stood up against the family traditions in the future would likely be out, as well.
Sadie set the coasters down and moved along the row of gift items. Pausing by the back door she looked across the grounds to the main farmhouse, noting Elena seated on the porch, hands folded in her lap. The woman stared out across rows of grapevines. If only I could read her thoughts, Sadie thought. I’ll bet she knows more than she lets on.
Three more customers entered the tasting room. Angelo greeted them while Luisa continued helping the party of eight. Without a clear reason to linger, Sadie waved goodbye and left.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Coco sat properly, only her eyes darting back and forth, following the trail of a tiny peanut butter bone.
“You’re the only one I can talk to about this, you know.”
Sadie waved the dog treat in the air like an orchestra conductor, oblivious to the fact it was driving her sole audience member crazy. Sadie had always talked with her hands; it was part of her flamboyant personality. It would be impossible to analyze the Tremiato case aloud without some animated gestures.
“For example, Tina found poor Mr. Flanagan’s body, but he died hours before she discovered him. Unless she snuck out the night before, after baking those delicious muffins, she’s not the killer. There’s no real evidence that she was, other than a silly cork that doesn’t even have her fingerprints on it. And I’m quite sure that odd guest, Mr. Collins, planted it. But did Stefano set that up? Tina really had no motive. She’d never interacted with Flanagan and she didn’t care one way or the other about the sale. In any case, she had no say in the matter.”
Sadie paused just long enough for Coco to crane her neck, her tiny mouth opening and closing. Sadie resumed deliberations quickly and, therefore, her arm movements, and the bone continued to elude the poor dog. Coco sat down to wait out another round of debate.
“Whether or not Stefano is trying to make it look like Tina did it is another story altogether. But he had no beef with Mr. Flanagan, other than finding him annoying, I assume. If Stefano did the killing, I would think it was Matteo he would have been trying to confront. A crime of passion could certainly be fueled by jealousy. Was he jealous enough to commit murder? And killed Mr. Flanagan by accident, mistaking him for Matteo in the dark? It’s a stretch, don’t you think, Coco?”
A yip in return brought Sadie’s gaze down to see Coco staring at her, wide eyed.
“Oh, Coco
! You poor thing! I’ve been torturing you with this biscuit!” She stooped down and gave Coco the well-deserved peanut butter bone. To apologize further, Sadie adjusted the pink iPod shuffle on Coco’s collar to a salsa playlist and gave her a second treat. Returning to her deliberations, Sadie watched Coco trot off with steps that she’d long ago labeled the Yorkie Samba.
Over a glass of merlot, Sadie reviewed other possibilities. She was fighting hard to dismiss Matteo as a suspect, but she couldn’t rule him out completely. He’d already admitted going to meet Flanagan after the phone call that Sadie overhead. Perhaps Flanagan wasn’t already dead when Matteo arrived, and they did meet. An argument may have ensued, ending up out of control. Maybe they struggled and Matteo was forced to protect himself, but with terrible consequences. Was it a matter of self-defense and then panic on Matteo’s part? Like it or not, she had to admit it was possible.
Still, there were numerous clues that had yet to tie together. The cork in Tina’s kitchen cupboard, for example. The pin that Detectives Hudson and Shafer had found at the crime scene. The mysterious Mr. Collins’ visit to and quick vanishing from the inn. All the cell phone calls between Matteo and Mr. Flanagan. Behind all these varied factors was one consistent story. It was just a matter of discovering what it was.
“What’s the common denominator, Coco? What one factor ties all these separate clues together?”
Coco did an amusing canine pirouette upon hearing her name. She yipped twice, though Sadie knew it was a ploy for another treat, not a solution to the murder.
“Yes, Coco. My mind is spinning, too.”
The one direction she was hoping to avoid was the idea that Mr. Collins could be the killer. If this were true, it could leave the case unsolved. And Sadie hated loose ends. Mr. Collins could have committed the crime, planted the cork to make it look family related, and left town without a trail. While the family crumbled into turmoil, the killer would have run free. It could be as simple as that, not any type of family feud at all. As much as she hated the idea of finding out someone in Matteo’s family was guilty – or, heaven forbid, Matteo himself – she knew that an unsolved murder would be harder on everyone involved.
Sadie started to pour another half glass of wine, then changed her mind and fixed a cup of peppermint tea, instead. Better to stay focused. Besides, she had a new hunch. Moving to her home office area, she settled in at her desk and fired up her computer. Coco followed, curling up on a plush throw rug beside the desk. Sadie leaned down and switched the iPod’s music from salsa to a soothing blend of piano and flute solos. As Coco drifted off to sleep, Sadie took a trip into cyberspace.
The thought of doing a background check on the company that tried to acquire the Tremiato winery had crossed her mind before, but she’d dismissed it in favor of following evidence in front of her. Pondering the miscellaneous clues had brought a new question to mind. Was there something about the company that was rearing its ugly head now? Was this the common link?
What an amazing age of technology, Sadie mused as she ran some online searches on Serrano-Flanagan. Years ago, she’d have headed to the library, checked micro fiche, or even consulted with private investigators to dig up information on people or companies. Now she could just tap questions into a keyboard. Wearing fuzzy slippers and polka dot pajamas, no less!
Sadie plugged away at research for thirty minutes or so, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The company website was well designed, with links to businesses it had acquired. One by one, Sadie clicked through to check out each acquisition in the Napa Valley area, reading their basic information – location, wine specialties, and upcoming events – and paying particular attention to any “News” sections. It was clear that Serrano-Flanagan had invested in each business acquisition. To their credit, they had followed through on promises of improvement, upgrading equipment, spending generously on re-branding, and building new facilities such as fine dining establishments and even, in one case, a concert venue. Testimonies from regular customers made it clear the local community embraced the changes, though a few established wineries felt the progress diminished the historical aspects of the wine-making business. Serrano-Flanagan was a legitimate company.
Taking another approach, Sadie began to research the company’s origins. Formed in 1997, Serrano-Flanagan was a subsidiary of a larger Boston company, PSF Enterprises, whose history dated back to the 1920s. Strictly an investment firm, PSF was parent to smaller companies that managed mergers and acquisitions in numerous areas. Their website was similar to that of Serrano-Flanagan, linking to companies around the country.
“Nothing strange about this that I can see, Coco,” Sadie announced, causing Coco to stir from a brief nap. Coco responded with a slow canine yawn, lowered her head again and closed her eyes.
“But…” Sadie added, clicking the computer mouse several more times. “These companies are pretty new compared to the parent company. And I can’t find any information about PSF company activities before these subsidiaries were formed. What do you think that’s about?”
Getting nothing from the snoring Yorkie, Sadie fixed another cup of tea and checked the clock on her kitchen wall. It was still early enough to make a phone call. She returned to the living room, set down the tea, picked up her cell phone and dialed a number. Disappointed to reach voicemail, she left a stern message.
“Matteo, it’s Sadie. We need to talk as soon as you get this. It’s important. Come by my house when you can. I’ll be up.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sadie opened the front door to find Matteo standing on the welcome mat, looking like a school child waiting to see the principal at the end of the day. She knew he’d interpreted her tone correctly when he’d listened to the voicemail. She expected him to tell the truth even if the truth made him squirm.
“Come in. Sit down.”
Closing the door, she watched Matteo cross the room to the couch, where he sat. He bounced back up immediately when the couch squeaked at him. Reaching underneath a cushion, he pulled out a fist-sized object. He held it up, his eyebrows raised.
“That’s Alfred. A prize from the last Canine Carnival,” Sadie explained simply, as if all decent households kept red rubber hedgehogs under their couch cushions.
Matteo dropped the toy on the floor, sat back down and waited.
“Matteo,” Sadie said, sitting down across from him. “I really want to help you, especially since you decided to ask for my help. When I first started worrying about you, I chose to visit your family winery. After the murder, I began to dig deeper, and when you told me you were in trouble, I returned to the area, spoke with your brothers, sister, and sister-in-law, observed your mother, agreed to return to speak with the police in person, and suffered countless lapses in chocolate consumption, all for your benefit. But I’ve hit a wall, and the only way I can get you out of this mess is if you level with me and tell me everything, even things you may not know you know. Tell me every last detail, Matteo. Anything you left out from the start even if you don’t think it’s important. There’s got to be more than you told me.”
Matteo sighed. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. I just thought you could figure out who killed Flanagan without having to get wrapped up in the whole story. Especially when I knew you were up there at the winery already. It was safer for you that way. I stumbled across a bit of nastiness, and I didn’t want to involve you.”
“Well now I’m here and safe, and not there and possibly in some kind of peril. Help me out. Look.” Sadie motioned to the computer and had Matteo follow her over. She pulled up the Serrano-Flanagan website. “Did you research this company when you were considering their offer to buy your family’s winery?”
Matteo nodded. “Yes, I did. I’m sure my brothers did, too. I didn’t want a company to take over the winery and let it fall apart, not after all the generations of work our family has put in to build its reputation. But, as you can see, they’ve done some great things with the other wineries they’ve
bought. That was one of the things Flanagan stressed. That we’d be proud of the direction the winery would go under the ownership of Serrano-Flanagan. They did have a proven track record of following through with promises they made to other wineries in the area.”
“Yet you decided not to go through with the sale,” Sadie pointed out.
“Right. In the end, I felt the family legacy meant more to my mother than either the money from the sale or the promised improvements. Selling would have meant going against what my mother really wanted. It was more important to respect her wishes.”
“You didn’t get any hesitant feelings about the Serrano-Flanagan company itself?”
“No. I’m guessing you’ve seen their website and the websites of all the wineries they’ve acquired. There’s nothing to indicate they aren’t legitimate. They’ve always paid a generous amount for the purchase and each winery is more profitable now than before. I spoke with several wineries that had sold to them already, and they were all pleased. There was no reason to doubt Serrano-Flanagan’s claim that they could do just as well for us. It just wasn’t the right situation for our family.”
“So why did you agree to meet Flanagan if you’d already decided not to sell? Tell me every detail. Something you think isn’t important might be crucial. The police are going to pin the murder on someone, most likely someone in your family. If not Tina, then maybe Stefano, or it could even come back to you. You had the most business dealings with the victim. They might decide you wiped off the fingerprints yourself and then decided to let them go after Tina.”
“I would never do that to Tina. Are you implying I would?” Matteo began to pace, kicking aside the red rubber hedgehog as he crossed the room. Coco raised her head from her comfortable cushion and gave Matteo her own version of the evil eye.
“No, no, dear boy! I’m just trying to look at everything as if I were with the police, and they are already scrutinizing everyone in your family. Please don’t take your frustrations out on poor Alfred. You’ve upset Coco.”
A Flair for Chardonnay Page 11
