Uncorking a Lie

by Nadine Nettmann

  What had he heard? About my past? That I had broken into a house years ago? That I had been arrested a few months back when someone planted evidence against me? The pressure was getting to me but I didn’t want to show that to Paul. I took a deep breath and waited as he finished his whiskey.

  Paul put his glass down and smiled. “The work you did at Frontier. It’s no secret here in Sonoma. I know that you solved that whole thing. Your friend Tessa was blamed and instead you figured it out and put the right people in jail.” He stared at me. “Where would she be without you? She didn’t do it and I didn’t do this. I’ll pay you to help.” Paul’s voice was weak and it was followed by a raspy cough.

  Stress like this could have devastating effects on people, and I didn’t know if Paul’s cough was the hint of something worse.

  “Paul, you don’t need to pay me.”

  “It’s not up for debate.” His pale blue eyes stared into mine. “So you’ll help?”

  “Consider me rehired.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled weakly. “Where will you start? None of this makes sense.”

  I thought back to the dinner when Cooper disappeared from the sitting room to look for the second bottle. “Paul, you bought two bottles at the auction, correct? I think Cooper said they were from the same seller?”

  “Yes,” Paul replied. “A Chateau Valence.”

  The phone rang and he jumped.

  “Can I see that bottle? It’s what Cooper was going to look at Sunday night.”

  The phone continued to ring and Paul seemed frailer by the moment. “Do you want me to answer it?” I asked.

  He looked at the phone. “It’s fine. Is it strange that even though I’m out on bail, I think they’re going to come back for me any moment? It was horrible being arrested. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to figure this out.” I motioned to the still-ringing phone. “I’m sure it’ll go to voicemail any second.”

  “I should answer it. It could be my lawyer. The bottle’s in the cellar. I’ll meet you there in a minute.” He handed me the key.

  I returned to the hallway, an uneasy feeling washing over me as I remembered the last time I was there. When I found Cooper.

  I unlocked the cellar door and turned on the light, the one I couldn’t find that night because the switch was located outside the doorway. I went down the stairs but paused on the last step as I stared at the floor. My stomach soured as the memory of finding him played out in my mind.

  I took a deep breath and moved over the area with one large jump, as if touching the ground there would be disrespectful to Cooper.

  The cellar was narrow with two rows of bottles stacked in perfectly symmetrical cedar racks. I scanned the lines for the bottle of Chateau Valence, my heart accelerating as I saw bottles of Mouton Rothschild, Chateau Margaux, d’Yquem, Domaine Garinett, and even a Chateau Lafite Rothschild. It was a wine lover’s paradise.

  “Did you find it?” Paul’s voice made me jump.

  I put my hand to my chest in an effort to calm my breathing. “I didn’t hear you come down.”

  “Sorry about that,” said Paul as he joined me in the row. “My lawyer’s on the way as well as the deputies. Something about evidence. Did you find it? The 1989 Chateau Valence.”

  “Not yet.” I scanned the rows. “Do you know where you put it?”

  Paul pointed to a row. “It was right here.”

  I followed the line of his finger, but it ended at an empty space in the middle of the rack. “It’s gone.”

  twenty-three

  pairing suggestion: cabernet sauvignon blend

  —colchagua valley, chile

  A bold red wine ideal for storing, as it ages very well.

  -

  I stared at the empty space located between a Chateau Margaux and a St. Emillion. “Are you sure it was there?”

  “Positive. I kept the 1975 Chateau Clair Bleu in the dining room and placed the Chateau Valence here, to save for a future occasion.”

  I scanned the rest of the racks to make sure the Chateau Valence hadn’t been moved while Paul looked on the other side. He was right. The bottle was gone.

  “When was the last time you saw it there?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed his forehead. “I was down here on Sunday, moments before the guests arrived. Cooper had already brought bottles into the lounge, but I wanted a d’Yquem for dessert. He was greeting guests at the front door.” Paul stopped. “Probably Leanor and Simon. Maybe Henry, too. So I came down to the cellar and found the bottle myself. The d’Yquem.” He looked at me. “That’s why I was late coming to greet you in the lounge after you arrived.”

  “Has anyone had access to the cellar? Who else is in the house?”

  “Just Anna, but she wouldn’t have been in here. I keep the door locked. I have the only key.”

  I glanced at the stairs. “But Cooper came down here that night. How did he get in? What about his key?”

  “I had the door open. I didn’t lock it after I left with the d’Yquem. I thought I might show them the cellar after dinner. They’d seen it on past visits, everyone except for you, but I’ve found that guests get a thrill at seeing my collection.” He looked around. “Or at least I thought they did.”

  I rubbed my arms. The coolness of the cellar was starting to get to me. “And since then? Since Sunday?”

  “It’s been locked.”

  “Okay.” I looked at the row of bottles, all waiting for their moment to be opened and enjoyed. Except for the one bottle that was missing. “Who would have taken it?”

  Paul shrugged. “I don’t know. There were my guests at dinner that night and then the deputies.”

  “I doubt the deputies would have taken it.”

  “Really? Couldn’t it be evidence?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “But did you tell them about the bottle? That you bought it at the auction as well?” I realized as I spoke that I was coming across as if I were interrogating him. I softened my tone. “I mean, that night they thought it was an accident on the stairs. There was no reason for them to take any wine bottles. Did other people know that you bought it at the auction?”

  Paul looked at me. “Everyone at the dinner did. It wasn’t a secret that I purchased two bottles.”

  Great. The list of suspects wasn’t getting any smaller. As with deductive tasting, I needed to start crossing potential wines—or in this case, people—off the list to narrow it down to the right one.

  “We know that Cooper was poisoned and any member of the group could have accessed Cooper’s wineglass or food at any time. But if it was the wine …” I paused. I liked to think of wine bringing happiness instead of death. “It could have easily been tampered with when we moved from the dining room to the sitting room for dessert. Besides you and me, there were six other guests here: Henry, Simon, Leanor, Alicia, Martin, and Roberto. Those are the suspects. Six. Actually, seven.”

  “Seven?”

  “Anna.”

  Paul shook his head. “No, not Anna. I trust her. She’s worked for me for years.”

  “But you trust everyone from the dinner as well, right?”

  “As much as I can.” Paul sighed. “In the years at my firm, I learned that most of my clients had something to hide. I trust them until I’m given a reason not to.”

  I walked the length of a row, staring at the bottles as my mind turned. “If this had something to do with the counterfeit bottle of wine, Anna wouldn’t have a motive. I’m going to focus on the remaining six.” It was still seven, but I didn’t want to say it. Not that I believed Paul did it, but I couldn’t leave him off the list. If I was going to solve this, I needed to explore every single possibility.

  He leaned back, the overhead light casting a shadow on his face. “What are you going to do?”
>
  “I guess I’m going to start narrowing down the field of suspects until we have the one responsible. I’ve already talked with Roberto, Henry, and Simon. I guess Leanor and Alicia would be next.”

  “You haven’t named the one person I think you should talk to.” The intercom buzzed. “That will be the deputies or my lawyer at the gate.”

  “Who should I talk to?”

  “Martin.”

  “Martin?” My chest tightened. “Yes, but he told you he wasn’t sure who attacked him. And that there was a chance it could be me. Which it wasn’t.”

  “I know, but he’s my best friend and I know he’s looking out for me right now.

  “Paul, I don’t want to say this, but he was at the dinner that night. He could have been …” I stopped speaking. I needed to say this gently. “Everyone is a suspect.”

  “Go talk to him. He knows everyone from the dinner better than me. He’ll be able to help you.”

  “Will he even talk to me?”

  “I’ll call him and let him know you’re coming.”

  Paul gave me Martin’s work address and I was on my way.

  The squad car pulled into the driveway as I left the estate. Deputy Adams stared at me as I drove by. It wasn’t exactly a statement to my innocence, being back at the scene of the crime when Adams already seemed to suspect me. He would know why I was there sooner than later, perhaps in just a few minutes when he talked to Paul. For now, I was on my way to see Martin.

  twenty-four

  pairing suggestion: côtes du rhône—rhône valley, france

  A Grenache- or Syrah-based blend

  that is popular and very drinkable.

  -

  Martin’s office was located a few blocks from downtown Sonoma in a two-story house that had been converted into an office building. A neighboring vineyard stretched out behind it, adding a sense of calm to the situation and loosening the tightness in my chest.

  I pulled the brass handle, bells jangling as the door opened to a hallway. The noise must have announced my presence because as soon as I put a foot inside, a young man in a dark vest and matching pants with his blue sleeves rolled up to his elbows approached me.

  “Welcome to Trager Imports. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m here to see Martin Trager.”

  “Do you have an appointment?” He held one hand tucked into the opening of his vest between buttons, in a clearly rehearsed manner to project a certain appearance of power.

  “No, but Mr. Paul Rafferty said he would call and let Martin know I was coming.”

  “Name?”

  “Katie Stillwell.”

  “Just a moment.” He turned on his heels and walked down the hallway.

  As I waited, I could hear typing and a printer that sounded like it was seconds away from a paper jam.

  The man returned, his hand still tucked into the vest. “He said he’ll see you but he only has a few minutes.”

  “That will be fine.”

  He motioned to a doorway down the hall.

  I entered the office and there was Martin, sitting at a desk with a large map on the wall behind him. He had a bandage over the left side of his forehead.

  “Katie, it was a surprise when Paul called to say you were coming. I’m glad you’re here.” He stood up and reached out his hand.

  The welcome gesture threw me. “You are?” I shook his hand, his grip folding the sides of my palm together.

  “Yes. Come on, we both know that you didn’t attack me.” As he said it, he seemed to reference my strength.

  I pulled my hand out of his grasp. I was stronger than he knew. I could attack him if I wanted to, I was sure of it. But I wouldn’t do that to anyone.

  “Because you didn’t. Right, Katie?”

  “Right,” I replied. “But you said to Paul last night that you didn’t know who assaulted you, you just didn’t want me to be charged. You made him believe it might still be me.”

  Martin waved his hand. “My head was still foggy at that point and I honestly don’t know who attacked me. But I know it wasn’t you. Do you want me to call and tell Paul?”

  “No, Paul and I are fine now. Do the officers have any idea who it was?”

  Martin touched the bandage on his head. “Not yet. It could be an unhappy customer, a neighbor with a grievance, or simply a burglary gone wrong. These things always have a way of coming into the light.” He sat in the chair behind his desk and motioned to the chair in front.

  I sat down as my attention drifted to the map. It detailed an area with varying shades of green and a long river with tributaries marked in blue. “Where is that?”

  “Willamette. I have some property up there.”

  “Beautiful area.”

  He leaned back and folded his hands on his stomach. “It is. So what can I help you with?”

  I sat up straighter in my seat. “I want to know if you saw anything strange that night at the dinner. Anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Well, it’s not every day that we’re treated to a bottle of wine from 1975, now is it?”

  I smiled, my game face on.

  “That, and someone was murdered. Poor Cooper. To think that someone killed him. It’s devastating.”

  “How do you know he was murdered?”

  “Paul told me this morning, after he made bail. What a week.” Martin picked up a pen from a silver holder and scribbled a note on a pad to his right.

  “Do you think Paul did it?”

  Martin raised an eyebrow. “Does the fact that you’re asking mean you think Paul did it?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I took a breath. “I want to know what you think.”

  “An opinion can be a dangerous thing, Katie.” He looked me in the eye. “But no, I don’t think Paul killed Cooper. Why would a man as rich and powerful as Paul want to kill his assistant? When you have that much money, you can pay someone to kill them for you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Listen,” Martin interrupted, “I’ll get to the point. Even if Paul had something to do with Cooper’s death, he wouldn’t have done it on an evening with his closest friends as witnesses. Agreed?”

  I nodded. This wasn’t going where I needed it to go.

  “But I don’t think Paul killed him. He wouldn’t kill anyone. We’ve been friends a very long time and he’s a good guy.”

  “Paul says you’re one of the few people who don’t think he’s guilty.”

  Martin smiled. “You’re right. I don’t. He’s a good man.”

  “What about anyone else?”

  “You mean, did I see who poisoned him? No. If I had, I would have spoken up that night.” Martin fell silent as he stared at the desk in front of him. “We were all friends there, but I’ve been thinking … Maybe the person who poisoned Cooper is the same one who attacked me.”

  “I was wondering that, too,” I replied. “But why would they want to kill Cooper and attack you? What would you have to do with this?”

  Martin shrugged. “Maybe because I was at the dinner. I don’t know. I wish I did.” He studied me for a moment. “Are you working for Paul?”

  I stiffened. “Why do you say that?”

  “It seems like you’re asking questions for him. You’re not exactly one of his friends, and now that Cooper is gone …” He paused. “It’s just an observation. Doesn’t Trentino pay well?”

  I shifted in the chair as my mind raced to come up with an answer. “It’s fine, but I could always use some more. Might be nice to attend one of those great charity dinners Alicia mentioned on Sunday,” I replied in an effort to connect to him.

  Martin nodded. “You know, we have some openings and could always use the help of someone as experienced in wine as you are. Would you like to work for us here?”

 
“Thanks, but I think I’m good at the moment.”

  “Working for Paul,” Martin added, as if he wanted to confirm his guess. “Do you have any more questions or shall I get back to work?”

  “One. I wanted to ask about the Red Heart auction. Paul bought two different wines there …”

  “Yes, the ones he bought from Simon.”

  Goosebumps shot up my arms. “Simon sold the bottles at the auction?”

  “Didn’t you know?”

  I shook my head as I tried to realize the weight of this information. “I only knew it was a private party. But why would Simon sell the bottles?” And more importantly, why would he sell them and not tell anyone at the dinner?

  “Why does anyone sell bottles of wine at auction?” commented Martin. “Money. Isn’t that reason enough?”

  I paused. “Did Paul know that Simon was the seller?”

  “I doubt it. I only knew because I was at the auction with Henry.”

  “But Roberto had the bottle before Simon did.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “Just talking to myself.”

  Martin touched his bandaged head and winced.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Katie,” said Martin. “I’m so sorry, but my head is really starting to hurt. Do you mind if we talk about this later?”

  “Of course. That’s fine. But if you remember anything from that night …”

  “You’ll be the first one I call.”

  “Thank you.” I stood up. “Feel better.”

  “I’ll be fine. Stay well, Katie.”

  I walked out of the office knowing one thing. Simon was hiding something and like an unidentified glass of wine in blind tasting, I needed to figure it out.