Decanting a Murder

by Nadine Nettmann

  Lisa paused when she saw Tessa, her white pearls still swinging with movement. After a moment, she continued looking around as if searching to give instructions to someone, anyone.

  “Is she in charge tonight?”

  “Nope, she just acts like it. That’s Lisa for you. She takes credit for everything. She’s my favorite.” Tessa stressed the last word. “She tells Vanessa if I clock in even one minute late from a break and she went on a rant when I poured slightly more than one ounce for a guest. Even Mark had to tell her to relax.”

  “She sounds charming.”

  Tessa’s eyes remained on Lisa. “Whatever.” She took another drink. “I keep my distance.” She topped off both glasses with the rest of the wine and placed the empty decanter back on the table. “Come on, let’s mingle. Maybe we can find you a guy. Should be a lot of rich ones tonight.”

  “Is money all you ever think about?”

  “Makes the world go ’round, Katie.”

  We stood up and walked through the tables, the caterers filling the serving dishes as we passed.

  A waiter approached with a tray of canapés decorated with delicate folds of salmon slices. “Would you care for an hors d’oeuvre?”

  “Ah, no, thank you. I’ll wait till later.”

  “I’ll take one.” Tessa grabbed two and popped them in her mouth.

  “Tessa, shouldn’t you save those for the guests?”

  “Nah, I am a guest,” Tessa said as she chewed. “Tonight at least. You’re a guest too, so I ate yours.”

  I shook my head. Tessa might have held down a steady job for the last four months but she was still Tessa.

  “Sorry, they’re not serving pasta tonight,” she said.

  “Tessa. I eat things other than pasta, you know.”

  “But if you had a choice?”

  I hesitated. “Pasta.”

  “Exactly.”

  “My favorite wine lady, there you are,” said an older voice with an affected tone. “What a fabulous dress you’re wearing.”

  The gentleman, in his midsixties with silver hair in tight curls and a gray handlebar mustache, stepped closer to us. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” He smoothed down a red ascot with his free hand and adjusted his gray tweed jacket.

  “Garrett, I figured you would be here,” said Tessa. “Nice to see you.”

  “Yes, my dear, lovely to see you as always.” Garrett’s eyes moved to me and he raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh, this is my friend, Katie. Jim Garrett, but he goes by Garrett.”

  “I think last names are so much more regal, don’t you?” Garrett swirled his wineglass as a clinking noise came from it.

  “Is that …” I paused. “Are there ice cubes in your glass?”

  “Of course!” Garret lifted the glass. “I love a glass of cold white wine.”

  “Doesn’t it water down the wine?”

  “Only if you let it sit there.” He downed the wine, leaving the ice cubes golden-colored at the bottom of the glass. “But I don’t.” He flashed a smile. “Katie, are you a connoisseur of wine? And by a connoisseur, I mean do you drink it?” He looked at my glass. “I guess you do. Smashing. You’ll have to try mine, too.”

  “Garrett owns the place next door. Garrett, why don’t you tell Katie how long you’ve owned your winery?”

  “Oh me?” He emitted a hollow and rehearsed laugh. “I guess Tessa wants to share my secret. I’ve only been in the wine world for ten years, although truthfully I’ve been in it nearly all my life—drinking it, that is.” He chuckled to himself, his shoulders convulsing. “You could say it’s the only thing that has ever truly won my heart.” He looked down at my legs and then at my chest before meeting my eyes again.

  “Garrett is a businessman,” said Tessa as her smile shifted into a smirk. “One day, about ten years ago, he woke up and decided to buy a winery.” She turned to him. “Tell me, Garrett, do you actually pick any of the grapes?”

  “Oh please, Tessa. That’s what employees are for.” He tugged at the right side of his mustache.

  I pointed to his glass. “You make Chardonnay, am I right?”

  “Yes, along with other ones that are eloquent, marvelous, and great for everything. In fact, the other day, I decided to add a few tablespoons of Chardonnay to my salad dressing and it was divine. You’ll have to come over and try it sometime.” Garrett stepped closer to me.

  “Well, Katie is looking for a boyfriend,” said Tessa.

  Garrett raised his eyebrows. “Oh really? You know, I have some fabulous bottles that I’ve been hoping to share with someone special.”

  “Yes,” said Tessa. “She likes men her own age. So maybe you have a son or a nephew for her?”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said, his voice clipped. “I must go, I’m out of wine.” He shook his glass, the ice cubes jingling. “It was a delight meeting you, Katie, let’s chat again later.” He winked. “Nice to see you, Tessa.” His voice wasn’t as jovial. He sauntered toward a small group of people nearby.

  “He’s an interesting character.”

  Tessa laughed. “I know, weird, right? Watch yourself, he gets super flirty the more he drinks. But he’s harmless and actually a nice guy when he’s sober, the rare occasions. I’ll have to take you to see his winery sometime. He’s loaded, so it’s super modern.”

  “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d care.” I sipped some more of my wine, the Merlot virtually dancing on my tongue.

  “And they give out free truffles in the tasting room.”

  “There’s the Tessa I know.”

  “Yes, and the Katie I know would love to see all the high-tech wine equipment.”

  “That would be nice.” I looked up at the stone building illuminated by the party lights strung high above us. “But I also love the romance of the older wineries. So full of character.”

  “You’re so poetic about wine.” Tessa took another gulp from her glass as an electric chime went off in her pocket. She took out her phone, the blue glow illuminating her face. “Now? Like right now? Ugh.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Mark. Ugh. I have to go do something. I’ll be back in a bit. Here, take my glass.” She finished the rest of the wine and handed me the empty glass. “Thanks.” Tessa tucked her phone back in her dress pocket and glanced anxiously around at everything but me.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right back, I just wasn’t expecting this. Enjoy the food, chat, flirt, that sort of thing.” Tessa smiled a tight, closed grimace. “And I can explain this later, but if anyone asks, I’ve been with you the whole time.” She disappeared into the crowd.

  four

  pairing suggestion: riesling—mosel, germany

  A slightly sweet wine that can handle both sweet and spicy situations.

  -

  I put both wineglasses on a nearby table and started after Tessa. “Wait. I’m coming with you.” My tall heels sunk into the dirt, slowing me down.

  “Careful,” said a male voice. “You look like you’re about to trip.”

  My heel struck a lump of grass and I stumbled forward, a strong arm catching me before I fell. I looked up into green eyes surrounded by golden skin.

  “Those shoes aren’t the best for lawns.” The man, who appeared to be in his late thirties, helped me back to a standing position. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” I peered into the crowd to find Tessa, but she was lost in the mass of party guests.

  “You must be Katie. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I returned my focus to the stranger as he held out his hand. He was tall, over six feet, with wavy brown hair and a tanned face. His leather jacket rested uncomfortably on his broad shoulders, as if sizable muscles prevented it from fitting properly.

&nbs
p; “I’m Jeff Kingman.” He smiled, revealing straight white teeth and a twinkle in his green eyes. I politely shook his hand and turned around once more, but Tessa’s blond curls were nowhere in sight.

  “Looking for someone?” Jeff followed my gaze into the crowd.

  “Tessa. She was just here but she ran off.”

  “Probably a party issue. This is still work for her.” Miniature wrinkles formed around Jeff’s eyes and a small bead of sweat ran down his temple, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away.

  “You’re right, it’s probably something to do with the party.” I glanced around but was met by a sea of unfamiliar faces. I returned my attention to Jeff. “Wait, how did you know my name?”

  “Tessa told me about you. We work together.” His voice carried the slight tinge of a southern accent.

  “Ah.” The tension in my shoulders released. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Yes, I agree, but I see a major problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  He motioned to my empty hand. “You’re not drinking.”

  “Oh.” I looked around and noticed the two glasses on the table near me, one empty and one half full. “I put it down.”

  “Here.” Jeff picked up a glass and handed it to me. “Is this one yours? Can’t waste a drop of this. This is Frontier wine,” he whispered and then laughed, in a way that was half joking, half serious.

  I nodded as I sipped the Merlot, the liquid sending a wave of relaxation through me. “Yes. And it’s good wine.”

  Jeff watched me, a subtle smile on his lips, his five o’clock shadow highlighted by golden brown stubble that matched his hair. “I can see you like the wine.”

  “I do. I mean, I’ve always liked Frontier wine, at least when I’ve been able to try it. Which was only the Cabernet. But this Merlot, this …” I admired the wine in my hand, swirling it around the glass. “This is exquisite.” I stopped and looked up at Jeff. “Sorry, I got carried away.” I shifted awkwardly. “What do you do, Jeff ? Something outside, right? Maybe in the vineyard?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I wanted to say because he was tan, the back of his neck was a little red as if he spent time in the sun, his strong build meant something with heavy lifting, and even though I was sure they were clean, his nails had dirt alongside the cuticles, the kind that’s hard to get off after a day in the vineyards. But instead, I replied, “Lucky guess.”

  “Good guess.” He winked. “My job is to make sure every grape is happy and healthy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m the vineyard manager.” He grinned and his green eyes sparkled in the soft lighting.

  “That’s an admirable job. So much to know and so many different factors.”

  “Yeah,” Jeff agreed, “but I love it. It’s thrilling to watch a grape grow from a small bud to maturity so it can be picked and made into great wine. We just picked the Pinot grapes last week and the Merlot and Cab will be next, but I have a feeling it will be a good year for our Pinot.” Jeff looked at the glass of wine in his hand. “I love creating something that will be enjoyed by others, you know? That they’re enjoying that particular wine because of me.”

  My mouth opened but nothing came out. I tried again, my voice almost a whisper. “I couldn’t agree more.” I held my glass to my lips as I watched Jeff take a drink of the wine, his strong throat moving as he swallowed. His eyes focused on me and I gulped my wine, not noticing how much I swallowed until the last drop was gone.

  Jeff pointed to my glass. “No empty glasses around here tonight, it’s a celebration. What can I get you? Which one was that?”

  “It was a special bottle. But maybe I’ll try whatever they’re serving at this booth. Are my teeth purple yet? Maybe I should have some white wine.” I closed my mouth, heat rushing to my cheeks.

  “Nah, don’t drink that stuff. Tonight’s white is from Garrett Winery. People who treat wine as a business make bad wine.” He held up his hand, the palm facing me. “Well, not everyone, but definitely next door. I can’t respect it if there’s no care put into it, you know? Only use Garrett wine if you’ve spilled red wine and need to clean it up.”

  “I can see you’re his biggest fan.”

  Jeff brushed his fingers across his brown hair. It fell back perfectly into place. “He’s okay, aside from the fake accent. I’m just not a fan of his wine. But then, I’ve always been partial to red.” He glanced in the direction of a wine booth, where servers in white aprons poured glasses of wine.

  “Let me get you another glass.” Jeff stepped over to the booth, his frame towering over the crowd, as I looked around at the tables. Tessa was still nowhere to be found.

  Jeff returned a moment later with two glasses of red wine. “Here you go.”

  “What is it?”

  Jeff smiled. “You tell me.”

  I looked at the glass and shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “I thought you were the friend who could taste wines really well. Did I hear that wrong?”

  “No, I just can’t right now.”

  His face softened. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put the pressure on.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just that I get nervous and overwhelmed, and then I can’t taste the wine. I just … can’t.”

  “Hey.” He made eye contact with me. “It’s okay. Can I give you a hint though? Before you taste wine, or before you do anything in life, take a deep breath. That will help.”

  “Thanks.” I took a deep breath.

  “Better?”

  “I guess,” I laughed. I held up the glass, the white tablecloth of a nearby table highlighting the red. “This is younger than the one I was just drinking.”

  “Yes, anything else?”

  I shook my head. “Not right now.”

  “This is the ’08 Cabernet. I played a role in this one.” He glanced at me. “See, you knew this one was younger.”

  “Yes.” I stood up straighter as a small smile spread across my lips.

  He motioned to the tables. “Shall we grab a seat?”

  I looked into the crowd in a last-ditch effort to find Tessa. Nothing. “Sure.”

  We reached a table, vacant except for discarded wineglasses and two small plates. “There are appetizers if you want any.” Jeff glanced around in search of a waiter. “Dinner will be out around eight.”

  My stomach rumbled. “No, I’m okay.” I put my wineglass on the table. “I’ll wait until Tessa comes back.”

  “Are you sure? It’s always good to eat while drinking. Here, I’ll be right back.” He stood up from the table and returned a few moments later with a plate loaded with cheese, crackers, and sliced deli meat. “You don’t have to eat any of it, but I want you to have the option.” He set the plate between us.

  My stomach growled as I stared at the slices of Gouda. I reached for one.

  “I thought so. Here, I’ll join you.” Jeff reached for a piece of cheese and tossed it into his mouth.

  I did the same, the saltiness of the cheese accenting the wine. I sighed. Wine and cheese. Always my favorite.

  “Tessa mentioned you were coming to the party. Said you’ve been friends for a long time.”

  “Yes, about twenty years.”

  “Wow, that really is a long time. Why haven’t you been to Frontier before?”

  “This place is like Fort Knox.”

  Jeff laughed. “Even Fort Knox has ways to get in. You just have to know them.”

  “Well”—I picked up another piece of cheese—“I’m here now.”

  Jeff leaned back in his chair and took a drink of the ’08. He held the glass in front of him. “I love how you can taste Napa in this glass.”

  I nodded. “The soil, the weather, the sunlight. It all ends up in the wine.”

  “Yes, especially with the rich so
il we have here.” He motioned to the ground near my feet. “It’s probably good for you to sit. Give you a break from those heels.”

  I glanced at my shoes, the heels wet with blades of grass. “I don’t normally wear these, but Tessa asked me …”

  “I’m sure you can take them off. No one will notice if you’re barefoot.”

  “No,” I laughed. “I can’t be barefoot. This is a fancy event.”

  “If Tessa’s feet hurt, she’d be the first one to kick off her shoes and parade around, no matter what people thought.”

  “Yes, well, that’s Tessa.” I looked around at the crowd. “She likes heels, I prefer running shoes.”

  “Ah, you’re a runner.” He crossed his legs, his knee out at a right angle. “Glad to meet another one. I do a three-mile jog every morning along the vineyards.”

  I scooted closer to the table. “I’d love to do that. Right now I run in Golden Gate Park, but to run in the vineyards every day would be perfect. My life would be so calm, so collected.”

  Jeff smiled at me, his eyes twinkling in the light. He swirled his glass and pointed to mine. “Hey, you haven’t tried the ’08 yet. I want to hear what you think.”

  “Oops, sorry.” I laughed as a rush of heat burst through my cheeks. I picked up the wine and took a sip. The tannins gripped the inside of my mouth, erasing all signs of the smooth aged Merlot. I held it over my tongue and waited for it to mellow.

  Jeff’s smile faded. “You don’t like it?”

  I swallowed. “No, it’s great. It was just a contrast to the ’94 Merlot I was drinking earlier.”

  “A ’94 Merlot? I can’t say I was involved with that wine. It was about ten years before I got here, but what did you think?”

  I nodded and opened my mouth to speak, but a bloodcurdling scream interrupted my evaluation of the wine.

  We locked eyes as the scream repeated, longer and louder this time.

  Tingles ran up my arms and across my scalp as I spun around to see where the scream had originated. Dozens of party guests turned in the direction of the winery.

  “Come on,” Jeff jumped up from the table. “Maybe we can help.” He ran up the lawn, maneuvering through the crowd of people who stood frozen.