by Penny Warner
“Growth is essential for Napa County, JoAnne,” Dennis continued. “We all know this area is the most popular region for domestic wines. If we limit growth, that will only impact the economy in a negative way. Plus it’ll hurt our county’s eight-billion-dollar industry. You don’t want that, do you?”
“You’re the biggest liar of all, Governor,” JoAnne said. “You’ve brainwashed these guys into believing your political agenda. Well, it won’t work with me—I’m not that stupid. My winery has been here for generations, unlike you idiots who pretend you’re vintners when you don’t know the first thing about producing quality wines. All you care about are your fancy castles, fancy cars, and fancy parties. Well, just wait until tomorrow night.
“I’m warning you, Christopher, if you host that party, you’ll get a taste of JoAnne Douglas’s amuse-bouches.” Pronouncing the words “amuse-bootches” instead of “amooze-boosches,” she stepped to the table, picked up one of the chocolate mousse desserts left on the tray, and hurled the soft chocolate glob across the table, directly into Rob’s face.
I gasped. The men ducked to the side to avoid being in the line of fire, should she sweep up more ammunition, while the women screamed. As Rob picked up a cloth napkin and wiped the gooey mess from his face, Marie rose with her glass of wine. She stared at JoAnne, utter hatred in her usually serene eyes; then with a backhanded sweep, she tossed the red liquid at JoAnne, dousing her face, hair, and T-shirt.
The other guests recoiled as the residue spattered the tablecloth. The women inspected their cocktail dresses for stains. The men rose, ready to defend or attack, as required.
JoAnne wiped the wine from her face with her sleeve, cocked her jaw at the stunned crowd, and said calmly, “Well, then. I’ll see you all tomorrow night.”
Chapter 5
PARTY-PLANNING TIP #5
For a theme within a theme at your wine-tasting party, try a “horizontal tasting,” with wines that come from the same vintage, or a “vertical tasting,” using wines from the same winery. Or make up your own rules and taste wines from a certain location, grape variety, or price range.
There was no need to call the police on JoAnne Douglas. She left of her own accord, after blotting the front of her shirt with a cloth napkin and tossing it on the floor. No one said a word for several moments, until Rob broke the silence.
“Well. We may need to double our security tomorrow night, but there’s no way I’m going to let that impossible woman ruin our event.”
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Marie asked quietly, looking up at him. She looked small and fragile in the soft light of the room, especially compared to the two high-maintenance wives, but there was something dark in her eyes. “That’s not the first time she’s threatened us. Frankly, she scares me.”
Marie wasn’t the only one concerned. I was beginning to have serious misgivings as well and wondered what Rocco had gotten me into. This was supposed to be a nice quiet dinner before the party, but it had turned out to be more like a high school food fight. What was in store tomorrow night? And what had I’d dragged my staff, my boyfriend, and my mother into this time?
The thank-you party was pretty much over at that point. After the others left, I stayed behind to reassure Rocco and Gina that the food had been wonderful and everything would be fine at the wine tasting.
As if.
Apparently Gina had witnessed the scene from the doorway. “She’s a piece of work,” she said, stepping in to collect wineglasses. “A fanatic, still obsessed with the old ways. She thinks progress and expansion are deliberately undermining her beliefs.”
With everyone hating JoAnne, I felt for her in a way. I wondered how she’d become such a thorn in everyone’s side over the years. Did she truly care about the environment, to the point of incurring such wrath from the community? Or was she just stuck in a time warp, unable to accept change?
Or was it something else?
I reflected on my mom and how she’d also retained the styles and symbols of the past. But I had learned early on that change and growth were inevitable, and I was able to roll with whatever came my way—the loss of my job, the move to Treasure Island, the ups and downs of the event-planning business, the changes in my mother due to her disease. Maybe having an unpredictable mother and five fathers during my childhood had forced me to be flexible.
I left Rocco and Gina behind to finish the cleaning and arrived at the bingo hall to pick up Mom a little after nine p.m. I found her sitting at the table where I’d left her, talking with Larry, while other players were packing up their caddies, markers, and good-luck charms.
“Presley!” she said as I approached. “You’re here! How did it go at the…” She hesitated, and I knew she’d forgotten where I’d been. Taking her out of her usual surroundings had thrown her off.
“The culinary college? Fine,” I said, not wanting to worry her about the threats we’d received from an irate—and possibly dangerous?—winegrower. I glanced at Larry, who stood. “How was your evening?”
“Wonderful, dear!” Mother answered. “You’ll never guess what happened!” She patted an envelope that rested under her hand.
Probably not, I thought, knowing all the mischief my mother had gotten into since developing Alzheimer’s. “What?”
“I won!” she exclaimed, and glanced at Larry. He grinned and nodded confirmation.
“You did?” I asked, surprised at her good luck.
“Yes! Two hundred and fifty dollars! In cash! I got a bingo on the last game of the evening! It was so exciting. I wish you’d been here.”
“That’s great, Mother. Congratulations.” I looked at Larry. “Did you win anything, Mr. O’Gara?”
“Call me Larry,” he said. “I didn’t, but hell—it only costs about ten bucks to play—thirty if you want multiple bingo sheets, and more for the computerized bingo. That’s not bad for three hours of entertainment in the company of a beautiful lady—plus the possibility of winning two hundred and fifty bucks.”
“One of the women at our table won twice!” Mother added; then she patted Larry’s arm. “He’s good luck.”
“Well, I’m so glad you had a good time. Ready to go, Mom?”
Larry pulled out Mother’s chair as she stood. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then said good-bye and something about seeing him tomorrow. With a last wave, she let me lead her to my car.
Once we were strapped in, I started the engine. “So you had a good time.”
“Oh yes! And Larry was the perfect gentleman. Quite the ladies’ man, I must say. The women at our table were flirting outrageously with him. But he let them know he was with me.”
I drove out of the parking lot and onto the street. “So what are you going to do with all that money? Buy a new outfit? Something for your room at the care…hotel?” My mother referred to her care center as the “hotel,” and I tried to do the same.
“Oh no, dear, I’m going to buy one of those cute quilted bingo caddies and some daubers—that’s what they call the markers. I’m meeting Larry again tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow?” I said, shooting her a look.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I’ll be back in plenty of time for the wine-tasting party. Oh, and, Presley, do you mind if I bring Larry along? I’m sure he would enjoy it.”
“Uh…I’ll have to check with Rob and Marie, but I guess they wouldn’t mind. Are you sure you want to bring him? You saw him tonight and you’re seeing him again tomorrow. Don’t you want some time to yourself?”
“Oh no, dear. I really enjoy his company, and we’ve become close after spending the evening together. I’d like to see as much of him as I can before we have to return to the city.”
Her words concerned me. It appeared my mother was falling for a man she hadn’t seen in years—until tonight. And even then she’d spent only a few hours with him. A romantic at heart—hence the five husbands and countless paramours—my mother never gave up on finding Mr. Right.
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Which reminded me—where was Brad?
I pulled up the driveway of the Purple Grape and parked. Rob had given me a key to the front door and had left the porch light on. I helped my mother out of the car and we headed inside. The hallway was dark, but dim lights from the display cases helped us find the way to our rooms. We said good night, hugged, and closed our respective doors.
I changed into my cat-patterned pajamas, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and climbed into the big puffy guest bed with my iPhone. Checking my messages, I hoped for one from Brad, but he still hadn’t called. I sent an e-mail to Treasure Island security guard Raj Reddy, reminding him of the event tomorrow, since I had a feeling there would be some added drama at the party. Finally I answered the most demanding e-mails before switching off the light around ten thirty. Exhausted from the stress of the earlier drama, I fell right to sleep.
I’d been dreaming about Brad—something about a corpse he was removing from a crime scene—when a noise woke me. I sat up straight, listening to be sure the sound hadn’t been part of my dream.
I heard it again. The sound of something metal clanging against the ground. It came from outside my window, which faced the front garden.
Sweat broke out all over my body.
I checked my cell phone for the time: half past midnight.
Throwing off the covers, I rushed to the window without turning on the light and bumped my thigh on the window seat. Pain seared through my leg. Ouch. I rubbed the throbbing area as I peered through a crack in the heavy curtains.
A figure stood just beyond the glow of the porch light. He—or she; I couldn’t tell which—pulled something from a pocket, knelt down, and stuck a hand into a flowering bush.
At first I thought it might be Javier—who else would be running around the property this time of night?—but it was too dark to see more than a shadowy outline. I continued to watch as the figure stood up, glanced around, then walked over to one of the storage buildings next to the garage and disappeared.
It had to be Javier, I said to myself, about to release the curtain. Then, from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a light, this one off in the distance. I stared as it became two beams and grew larger and brighter. Moments later I heard the sound of a car engine as it pulled into the driveway.
Who could it be at this hour?
JoAnne?
Had she arrived to harass Rob and Marie about tomorrow night’s party?
The car—it looked like some kind of SUV in the semidarkness—came to a stop. The driver’s door opened, then closed quietly.
Brad appeared from around the front!
“Oh my God!” I said to the window, then opened it and softly called his name. I could tell he’d heard me by the way he glanced around, but apparently he didn’t know where to look. I rushed to the nightstand lamp and turned it on, and returned to the window and waved.
He waved back, then pulled out a backpack from the passenger side of the SUV. His gear. I pointed toward the front door; he raised a hand in acknowledgment. Tiptoeing down the dimly lit hall, I reached the door and was about to open it when a voice from the darkness on the other side of the hall said, “What are you doing?”
Startled, I jumped a foot.
Allison stood in the hallway entrance, still wearing the outfit she’d worn to bingo. Her arms, as usual, were crossed, her face stern, making her look like an irate parent who’s just caught her teenage daughter sneaking out.
“I…my boyfriend—uh, co-worker…” I gestured toward the door. “He just got here. I came to let him in. What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” she said matter-of-factly.
I blinked in surprise. Was this woman live-in help?
“Does Rob know about this…additional guest?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah,” I lied. Although I’d gotten him his own room at a nearby B and B, I’d planned to sneak him into my room. Now I wondered what I’d been thinking. This looked so unprofessional.
I heard a light tap on the door and pulled it open.
Brad’s smile drooped when he saw Allison standing behind me. He glanced at me for a cue.
“Come in,” I said quietly, hoping not to wake Rob and Marie at the other end of the large house. “Glad you made it.” I wanted to give him a hug, but not in front of Allison. For some reason, I didn’t trust the woman. The fact that she was young and attractive had nothing to do with it. Mostly.
I turned to her. “Well, good night, Allison. Sorry if we woke you. See you in the morning. Big day tomorrow.”
“Good night,” she said, not moving from her spot. I felt her eyes on my back as I led Brad down the hallway to my room and shivered in my cat pajamas in spite of their cozy warmth. I hated how this looked.
But once I got into the cloudlike bed with him and snuggled in his muscular arms, I didn’t care how it looked. I just closed my eyes.
My last thought returned to the figure lurking around the yard. Who was it? And what was he doing so late at night?
I awoke the next morning around seven, with Brad gently snoring in my ear. The double bed made snuggling all night together mandatory, but I had no complaints. I heard my mother running water in the adjoining bathroom and took a moment to slip out of bed and look out the window to check the day’s weather, praying for fair skies.
When I pulled the curtain cord, I gasped. “Oh my God!”
The front garden looked like a tornado with a paint sprayer had hit. All the tables and chairs we’d set up were overturned. The decorative wine barrels had been spray painted with graffiti. And the strings of colorful lights lay tangled on the ground.
Someone had vandalized all the setup work I’d done the previous day.
“What’s wrong?” Brad said, leaning on an elbow and rubbing the sleep from his face.
“My party stuff…,” I said, staring out in disbelief. “It’s…it’s ruined…”
Brad threw the covers back and joined me at the window.
I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Unlike me, he hadn’t worn pajamas.
“What?” he said.
“You might want to put a robe on. My mother’s on the other side of that door.” I pointed to the bathroom.
He looked down and saw what I saw, then grabbed the comforter. Apparently he didn’t have a robe either.
I shook my head and returned my attention to the disaster in the yard. Javier was already righting the overturned tables and chairs. Allison had a can of paint and a brush in her hands, ready to paint over the graffiti. And Rob and Marie were picking up the lights and trying to untangle them. Rob noticed us at the window and made a disgusted face. I assumed he was referring to the mess and not the half-naked man standing next to me.
“I better get out there and help,” I said to Brad.
“Let me get a quick shower and I’ll join you,” he said.
I thought about how I was going to explain Brad’s presence in my room to Rob and Marie—and my mother. Maybe they’d be too distracted by the vandalism to care. “Be sure to lock the door on the other side of the bathroom or you may have a surprise visit from Mom.” I sighed.
Brad took me in his arms and kissed me. “Don’t worry, Pres. I’ll help you fix this. After all, that’s what I do best—clean up after messy situations. And your crew will be here soon, right?”
“Yeah.” Thank goodness for my band of misfits, I thought, hoping they were on their way. After Brad headed for the shower, I pulled on blue jeans, another red Killer Parties T-shirt, and black Vans and headed outside to help repair the damage.
Rob stopped his work replacing a party light as I stepped out the front door.
“Who did this?” I asked, surveying the area openmouthed. “Do you think it was that woman, JoAnne, from last night?”
“I’m sure it was,” Rob said. “Did you hear anything during the night? Our room’s way at the other end, but yours is right on the other side here.”
“As a matter of fact, I did hear a noi
se that woke me in the middle of the night. I looked out the window and saw someone in the shadows, but I figured it was your winery manager, Javier. I didn’t see anything like this.” I waved my arm around at the carnage.
“Javier?” Rob asked, his frown deepening.
“I assumed…”
“Javier!” Rob called him over.
Javier righted the small café table he was holding, shuffled over, and removed his straw hat. “Yes, sir?”
“What time did you leave here last night, Javier?”
Javier scratched his head. “Oh, about five, five thirty.”
Rob glanced at me, then asked Javier, “Did you come back later?”
“No, sir,” Javier said. His grip on his hat tightened. “I went to bingo, then home. As soon as I got here this morning and saw what happened, I rang your bell.”
“Thanks, Javier,” Rob said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
“Wait!” I said to the winery manager. “Did you bring Allison back here after bingo?”
Javier looked at me with troubled eyes and bowed his head. “No, ma’am. I only took her there. She went home with someone else.”
“Allison was at bingo?” Rob asked, sounding surprised.
Javier shrugged, as if afraid to speak, then mutely returned to his work.
Rob turned to me. “Presley, are you sure you didn’t see or hear anything else last night?”
“I don’t think so. Brad, my…associate…he drove up right after I heard the noise—about half past midnight. I let him in, said good night to Allison, and—”
“Allison?” Rob asked.
“Yes, she was in the entry hall when I went to let Brad in.”
“What was she doing up at that hour?” Rob asked, his jaw tightening.
