“What?” I asked, running through the door.
“Look!” Shelly said, pointing to the ground where the elderly gentleman I’d seen a few minutes before lay lifeless and still. “He’s dead!”
Chapter Three
“Had you ever seen the gentleman before?” The sheriff asked.
Since coming back to Hillside Grove I hadn’t had any interaction with the authorities other than once giving a polite wave as I passed an officer when leaving the local hardware store. Now, here I was with the contest only a short time away and the entire police department was snooping around my vineyard. Not to mention the dead body lying on the floor right in front of the cash register. It was the last kind of publicity I needed.
“No.” I replied. “He came in looking for something specific. I left the room.”
“Why did you leave the room?” The Sheriff asked.
He looked to be about ten years older than me, with dark hair that was beginning to grey at the sides and brown button eyes. He looked like the kind of guy you’d see on an old episode of late-night television with a thick goatee and a deep, almost gruff voice. Until that point my experience with law enforcement of any kind had been pretty limited, consisting mostly of a couple of speeding tickets and that one time I’d witnessed a carjacking. And even then I pretty much just gave my statement and moved on, but something told me this was going to be a bit more complicated than that.
“I was tasting a blend.” I said.
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“Right…” I said.
I’d been so immersed in wine culture for most of my life that I sometimes forgot not everyone used the same kind of shorthand as me and my family. Not that I was an expert in anything, but it’s not hard to pick up the lingo, especially once it becomes part of your life in such a big way.
“There’s a contest coming up.” I clarified. “I was in the tasting room, looking for a contender to enter. Shelly was handling the front for a few minutes.”
“I see…” He jotted something down on a small notepad. “And was anyone else in the room that you know of?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Roberts drink or eat anything while he was here?” Sheriff Grammar asked. “I noticed you have a few signs mentioning samples and tastings…”
“I don’t know.” I said. “Like I said, I was in the back. But Shelly did mention something about him being picky. So, maybe he did… I never got around to actually asking her that.”
“I see.” He said.
“Tell me about your day.”
“What?” I asked.
“What had you done earlier today?” He asked.
“Nothing much.” I said, thinking back on my morning. “I woke up, went for a stroll out through the vineyards… spoke to a few people and then came up here. Shelly and I spent most of the day tasting various batches.”
“And you said Shelly wasn’t in the room when Mr. Roberts passed out?” He asked.
“I… She came into the room to find a wine. When she went back out there I heard her scream…”
“So you’re saying he hit the floor while she was in the back with you?”
“I guess so.” I said.
“And did you hear him fall?”
“No.” I answered. “I didn’t hear anything outside of Shelly’s scream.”
“Okay.” He said, jotting down a few more things, then handed me a card. “I think I have all I need for now. But in the meantime if you think of anything else don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll be in touch…”
“Okay.” I said, watching him leave the room.
By the time I made it back out to the front room everything was gone. Either the Hillside Grove police department was so experienced with crime scene work they were able to get the whole place cleaned up in a matter of minutes or they were so bad that they didn’t do any CSI work at all… Either way my front room was clear.
“This is a nightmare.” I turned to Shelly. “If word gets out about this thing I won’t stand a chance… It could ruin me. They’ll move the contest and I’ll never get in the club.”
“I’m sure that won’t happen.” Shelly did her best to assure me. “Everyone is so busy getting ready for the competition right now I doubt they’re listening to any gossip.”
“I’m sure half the town heard those police sirens…”
“I doubt it.” She said confidently. “With these hills and all of these vines. Sound doesn’t carry very well around here. You’d be surprised the things a person can manage not to hear.”
“Let’s hope so.” I said. “Having a guy just drop dead in my vineyard doesn’t really scream ‘come… taste my wine…’ now does it?”
“Not exactly.” Shelly said. “I’ve never been that close to a dead body. That was creepy.”
“Yeah.” I said, trying not to think about my past. “I’m not sure I have either… But I’ve gotta get out of here. I’m supposed to meet my aunt for dinner in just a few minutes.”
“Alright.” Shelly replied. “I’m gonna head home then.”
“I don’t blame you.” I said. “Hey… Where’d that bottle go?”
“What bottle?” She asked.
“The one I told you about earlier. The one that Daniel dropped off…”
“Oh, right…” She raised an eyebrow. “I meant to ask you about that. I was so busy when you mentioned it… I never saw any bottle. Where is it?”
“I don’t know.” I replied. “That’s what I’m asking you.”
“I… don’t know. Where was it before?”
“It was over there…” I pointed to a small table by the window. Daniel sat it there when he was leaving.”
“Beats me.” Shelly answered.
“Huh…” I replied, assuming it would turn up later.
Hillside Grove was a small, idyllic town nestled in on the northern tip of California’s great wine country. It was a beautiful place that had somehow managed to hold tight to its ‘old world’ beauty and charm. My childhood here may not have been completely perfect, but it was pretty close. After all, even on my worst days I could still loose myself in the miles of hilly vineyards and gorgeous coastline.
Leaping Frog Tavern was a small countryside café with an all-California wine list and locally sourced menu that consisted of things like Lamb Burger with Feta, Berkshire Pork Shoulder and Morel Mushroom & Local Asparagus Risotto. It was fine dining that somehow managed to avoid being pretentious.
“Zara.” Aunt Hannah said with a smile as I walked in.
“Aunt Hannah.” I smiled back, hugging her, then sitting down at the small window-side table.
“How have you been?” She asked, taking a sip of wine. “I feel like it’s been forever…”
“It’s been two weeks.” I smiled back.
Aunt Hannah was a lovely soul with strong family values and even stronger morals. She was what my friends back in New York would call a ‘constant’, a person that never changed, no matter what happened around them. I’d known her as long as I could remember and she’d always greeted me with the same smile, always telling me the last time she’d seen me was too long ago, no matter the length of time between visits.
And honestly I was thankful for that.
Looking into her big round eyes I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother. The family resemblance was uncanny, not to mention the sound of her voice, there were times growing up when for a moment I honestly couldn’t tell them apart.
“What can I get you?” The blonde-haired waitress asked with a smile.
“I’ll just have the lettuce wedge salad to start…” I said.
It had been such a day that the thought of anything more than a salad was almost too much to handle. I just wanted to make it through this meal and head back home, then spend my night lost in a bottle of red.
“The same for me.” Aunt missy followed.
“You got it.” The waitress smiled, then walked away. “I’m Rebecca, if you need anything.”
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“Do you know her?” I asked my aunt.
“She’s one of Adam Knight’s girls… I think.” My aunt said. “She’s been gone for a while. But now she’s back... kind of like you.”
“Not exactly.” I said, looking over at her.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s pregnant.” I said.
“How can you be sure?” Aunt Hannah asked.
“I just know.” I said. “Just a feeling…”
“So...” Aunt Hannah said. “How’s the contest planning going?”
I watched her eyes widen to the size of quarters as I went over my day. It was a shocking thing, that’s for sure. I’d be pretty surprised too if my niece told me someone died in her front room. We talked for a while about how this might affect my business. Aunt Hannah did her best to assure me everything would be okay and that even if word managed to get out the idea of an elderly gentleman dying wouldn’t be that shocking.
Hopefully she was right….
Chapter Four
It had been almost a week since Charley Roberts died on my property, and for the most part I’d managed to keep the image of him lying lifeless on my hardwood floors out of my mind. That, combined with the fact that I’d narrowed it down to only a handful of wines to showcase at the contest made it a pretty nice few days.
Shelly and I even managed to sneak off to the beach once for a few hours. Watching the big California sun melt into the sea was a wonderful sight. I felt the warm rays of light reflect off the blue waters and caress my skin as I lay back, sipping on a light and fruity white zinfandel. We were only there for a few hours, but still, it helped clear my mind and rid my body of a little bit of the stress that had been practically emanating from me lately. Though it was too cold to actually get in the water, but there was still plenty to be said for a mid-evening bonfire, let me tell you…
Shelly talked to me for a little while about her husband, about how things just kind of fizzled out while no one was looking and how at this point thinking about him pulled almost no emotion from her. I knew exactly where she was coming from, I felt the same way about my former relationship.
I still didn’t like the idea of being completely by myself. That’s why my friendship with Shelly was so important, and it was just a happy coincidence that we got along so well. One I was very very happy about.
I clipped a small handful of grapes from the vine, then popped one in my mouth. The sweet, sugary nectar flooded my senses, washing over my tongue and sliding down my throat. There was just something so wonderful about the taste and texture of vine fresh grapes. It was an experience and flavor all to itself.
“Ms. Myers.” I heard Sheriff Grammar’s voice call to me through the vines.
“Yes?” I said, popping my head and looking around.
“I would like to speak with you for a moment.”
“Sure.” I replied, finding my way to him. “Would you like some grapes?”
“No thank you.” He said, popping one into his mouth.
“What can I help you with?” I asked.
“Well…” He said. “It’s not the best news I’m afraid.”
“Oh no…”
“Yes… The preliminary toxicology report from Mr. Roberts came back. I’m afraid it’s looking like he was poisoned…”
“Poisoned?” I asked.
“I’m afraid so.” He stepped closer. “But since he lived alone and was a bit introverted we’re having a hard time pinning down what he may have eaten.”
“Okay…” I said, not liking where this was headed.
“I’ve sent a deputy to his house to collect food samples. I remember you saying he was looking for a wine. I’m going to need a list of anything he may have tasted. I’ll also need samples from each bottle.”
“You think my wine…. You think he died after drinking my wine?”
“Well.” He snapped. “The fact that he died after drinking your wine is a fact. I just need to know if that wine had anything to do with his death.”
“Surely you can’t believe that’s the case…” I said.
“It’s too early to know anything just yet. We’ll need to test your wine along with anything else he may have ate or drank in the days leading up to his death.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Did someone actually believe my wine to be poisoned? Why would I kill one of my own customers? Sure, he was kind of rude and a little cranky, but there was no way I’d intentionally hurt someone. He had to know that. Not to mention…
“Oh no!” I said, dropping the small handful of grapes.
“Yes?” Sheriff Grammar said.
“If this gets out there will be no way I can enter the competition. No way I can have guests here…”
“I don’t know what to say about that.” He said.
“Please.” I asked. “You have to keep this information private.”
“I’m afraid holding a tasting here might not be the best thing for you right now.” He said. “I’m not saying your wine was absolutely the cause of his death, but it is possible…”
“I’ll be ruined.” I said. “You must understand how important this is.”
“I’ve lived in wine country my whole life Ms. Myers.” He said, plucking a grape and rolling it between his fingers. “But it’s my job to keep the people of Hillside Grove safe and I can’t have poisonous wine being distributed.”
“That.” I snapped. “Right there…. The words poisonous wine. That’s all it will take to ruin my business forever. Please, I’m asking you to keep this quiet until you know for sure. My family’s vineyard has been part of this town for a hundred years. That has to mean something to you.”
I watched my words simmer in his mind for a few minutes. He was a local, born and raised here. That had to mean something to him, it just had to. And I knew that if I could tap into that emotion, even for a second I might be able to get him to do what I wanted him to do, what I needed him to do.
“I’ll do my best to fast track these results.” He said. “But if I still don’t have anything back by the time of the competition I’m going to have to ask it be moved.”
“Fine.” I said. “That sounds fair.”
“In the meantime I’m going to have to insist you stop any further sales from this vineyard.”
“Stop all sales?” I asked.
“I’m willing to take a verbal agreement, otherwise I’ll have to go the legal route. Hopefully it will only be a few days.”
“Alright…” I said, figuring it was the lesser of the two evils.
“Now let’s go up and get those samples…”
“Alright.” I answered. “I’ll call Shelly. Like I said before, she was handling Mr. Roberts. She’s on the coast today, but she should be back tonight. We’ll get you those bottles as soon as possible.”
Chapter Five
I don’t know what I was hoping to find at Glass Rose Vineyard, or what I was even looking for. I just knew I needed to get there and do a little snooping around. Maybe it was just a coincidence that Daniel showed up only minutes before Charley Roberts died, and maybe the bottle of wine really was just misplaced, I don’t know…
What I did know was if this news broke before the competition began there would be no way Chateau de Midnight would be the site of the contest.
Besides, it was about time I visited another vineyard anyway. Maybe I could learn a thing or two. Maybe I could pick up something small, just a little gem of knowledge I might be able to use. Though, I doubted it. Winemakers held their secrets pretty close to their chests. Not that there were a ton of different ways to make wine or anything, but each person did it a little bit differently and each vineyard prided itself on the unique taste of their product.
Not that I was in the mood to enjoy it right then, but driving along California’s wine country was one of my favorite things to do. It was so beautiful, so lush in landscapes and views. The gorgeous snow-capped mountains that seemed to disappear into the clouds above. Th
e way the hills seemed to roll out into the clouds then melt into the sky was nothing short of glorious. And if it were almost any other day I’d have let myself get lost in the green valley’s and rolling vineyards.
But… it wasn’t any other day. It was today. And today I needed to figure out what was going on otherwise I’d likely end up with a vineyard full of wine and only myself to drink it. Not that that sounds too bad honestly…
Glass Rose Vineyards was a beautiful place, with expansive green hills and acre upon acre of intricate vines. It was among the oldest vineyards in Hillside Grove, and as a result had a history and reputation I could only dream of for my own young vineyard.
I drove down the long driveway, weaving in and out of the beautiful rows of vines, taking in the sights and smells of my surroundings. There was something unique about the kind of scent that wafted through the air of a true California vineyard. It was thick, sweet and indulgent in a way nothing else in this world was. At least nothing I’d ever been near.
Take that New York…
I stepped out of my car, the sound of gravel under my feet rising up and drifting across the warm evening air. For the most part the place seemed quiet, with only a single person in sight. As I walked toward the door she took note of me, making a beeline in my direction. She looked to be about my age, with dark curly hair framing her face. She was cute to say the least.
“May I help you?” She asked, approaching me.
“I’m just here to look around…” I said. “I was curious about your blends…”
“Checking up on the competition?” She folded her arms over her chest.
‘Well, there goes the element of surprise…’ I thought to myself.
It hadn’t occurred to me that anyone here would recognize me, but I guess it only made sense… The people in this town had been doing this their whole lives, and not in the same way as me. To them, it meant something and it always had. In their eyes I was probably a complete fake, a kid pretending to be a winemaker.
Murder Before Moscato_A Vineyard Winery Culinary Cozy Mystery Page 2
