Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (7 page)

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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“Better count on it. I just passed him on Junipero when I was heading into the station’s parking lot.”
“Great. I wish I didn’t have to go, but Carla invited Emma and me. We’re going to the tasting room and her father will be there to see what we’ve planned.”
“Good luck.”
“You’re such a comfort.”
“If Jessop shows up, just don’t knock him off, okay? Carmel Valley is in the county and out of my jurisdiction. Wait until he’s back in Carmel. I’ll be able to get you off then.”
“I’m going to hang up if you keep this going.”
“Okay. Give me a call when you get home.”
Molly blew out her breath. “Why?”
“So you can tell me I was wrong about the guy. How’s that?”
“Swell. I’ll do just that.” Molly hung up, and then jumped from the chair. Irritated no end, she wasn’t sure if it was with Randall for thinking she’d been jerked around by Jessop, or with herself for losing most of the afternoon snoozing. And getting caught. By Randall, naturally.
Chapter 6
 
MOLLY LOVED driving through Carmel Valley. Once a vast area of small horse ranches and farms, it was still countrified enough to be able to ignore the hundreds of homes and golf courses that seemed to alter only a small portion of the miles of rolling hills. New McMansions and private vineyards dotted much of the steep slopes just past the area known as Mid-Valley, and rather than disfigure the region, they achieved the creation of a California version of Tuscany. As Molly turned onto the long driveway toward Bello Lago’s Tasting Room and Gift Shop, she was struck by the beauty of how the nighttime setting would be. The gravel drive was bordered by dozens of oak trees strung with what seemed like thousands of tiny lights. The imposing two-story building, faced with Carmel stone, reminded Molly of European monasteries hidden atop towering cliffs. The roof line and the tall, arched stained-glass window, depicting clusters of purple grapes with twining dark green leaves, was lit from below with a soft blue light. Molly parked in the visitor’s zone, and as she approached the massive carved double doors, she stopped to admire the pair of monumental patinatedbronze reindeer perched on rockwork bases standing sentry at the entrance.
When Molly pushed open one of the doors, she was engulfed in mouthwatering aromas of garlic and basil. Daria had told her that Dando Osa, Mr. Mattucci’s private cook, frequently had offers from local restaurateurs after they’d attended Bello Lago’s annual dinners for the trade. Apparently, besides his extraordinary self-taught culinary skills, Osa seemed to be an interesting character. It was rumored he was a Spanish Basque and related to a big Nevada sheep-ranching family. And then others swore up and down he was a Portuguese from Macao who’d come into the country illegally. Osa, naturally, never said. In fact, Osa rarely spoke. More interesting, Daria had added, it was rumored that while some just thought he’d probably never mastered the English language, others said a small part of his tongue had been cut out when he’d been jailed in Spain as a youngster. Because rarely had anyone ever heard him say more than a few garbled words, the rumors had quickly become fact in everyone’s mind.
Molly was surprised to see so many people gathering around the large refectory table in the center of the tasting room just off the foyer. At one end, a double-tiered wrought-iron stand held large white platters filled with a staggering array of appetizers. Bottles of Bello Lago wines were prominently displayed. Carla apparently had a different view of a family dinner than Molly did. It took her a moment to scan the faces. When she finally spotted Emma with Michelle, she smiled her way past a group of men clustered around the small bar, towards the two young girls. Carla arrived just as Molly reached them.
Molly leaned down and kissed Emma on the forehead, then smiled at Michelle. “Did you two get all your homework done?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “No problemo. Michelle and I did it first thing at her house before we came over here.”
“I’m so glad you made it,” Carla said.
Scanning the room again, Molly said, “I had no idea you were having so many guests. I would have changed before leaving.”
Carla smiled. “These aren’t guests, they’re family. Well, employees really. But as close as family. My dad decided to throw one of his monthly dinners a little early.” Carla gestured to two men standing nearby and waved them over. “I’d like you to meet a couple of them.”
Dino Horne was the first to offer Molly his hand. Short, stocky, and bald, he had dark chocolate eyes. His pale blue button-down shirt sported a designer logo, and his khaki slacks looked like they’d just been pressed. “Nice to meet you, Molly. My wife loves your shop. I try to keep her out of there, but it doesn’t work.”
“Oh, Polly Horne! Of course. Don’t worry about her. She’s got a great eye and knows how to bargain.”
Horne grinned. “That’s encouraging news.”
“Dino is our master winemaker,” Carla said. “Without this man, there wouldn’t be a Bello Lago.”
“Don’t listen to her, Molly,” the taller man next to Horne said. “I’m Reggie Sullivan, and I’m the best marketing director in the wine business. I’m the guy that keeps Bello Lago in awards, not this old guy with a worn-out nose and palate.”
Molly took Reggie Sullivan’s hand. “How about if I believe you both?”
Sullivan, dressed in jeans and a silk aloha shirt, nodded to Carla. “Hey, with such diplomatic talent, I might just hire this gal.”
“No thanks.” Molly smiled. “I know zilch about wine. Besides, there are those who might argue with you about my sense of diplomacy.”
Emma giggled, then covered her mouth. Both men laughed.
Sullivan turned to Carla. “Speaking of diplomacy, where’s Todd?”
Molly saw Carla’s eyelids flutter just slightly. “He’s going to be late. We’ll start dinner without him.” Turning to Molly, she said, “I want you to meet my father.”
Domenico Mattucci must have been an incredibly handsome man in his day, Molly thought as she shook his hand. As he was confined to a wheelchair, his height was difficult to guess, but his thick white hair and pale blue eyes still commanded attention. Molly remembered Carla saying he was in his early eighties. Had she not known this, she’d swear the man wasn’t a day over seventy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mattucci. And thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
Domenico Mattucci’s voice was soft and slightly raspy. “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Doyle. I saw your drawings for this room. The look you envision is perfect. You must have some Italian blood in you.”
“Alas, no. Irish through and through. But I’m a great admirer of your heritage. No country has produced more brilliant artists or musical geniuses than Italy.”
Mattucci’s eyes sparkled. He nodded to his daughter. “This is your show, but I like this woman. Keep her around,
capisce?”
He turned away for a moment, then added, “Is your husband joining us tonight?” He looked at his watch. “Dinner is ready. I don’t like to keep Dando waiting.”
“He’ll be late,” Carla said. “Don’t wait for him.”
Mattucci wheeled his chair around. “I didn’t plan to. Get everyone seated for me, will you? I’ll be in the kitchen for a minute.”
The other end of the refectory table had been cleared and was set for dinner. Molly noted the place cards and found she’d been seated between Dino and Reggie. Todd Jessop’s place was across from her with Emma and Michelle on each side. Molly wondered if the placement of the young girls had been to keep Jessop in check. It was unlikely he would start anything with them. But she wasn’t at all pleased to be opposite him.
The table had a true Mediterranean feel, with oversized simple white dishes, flatware with horn handles, and inexpensive wineglasses that could be found at Target. Apparently the Mattucci family didn’t feel it necessary to serve their wine in thin crystal to appreciate its bouquet. The old-country attitude seemed more appropriate to Molly, and she immediately felt at home. Even the two arrangements of carnations and ferns were simple, but lovely. Dinner was served family style. Reminiscent of the back-room dinners at Daria’s, huge platters arrived with antipasti, and oval tubs of butter and mini-decanters of olive oil for the sourdough bread. As the patron of the family, Mattucci sat at the head of the table, and Carla sat next to him.
As the platters were passed around, Molly suggested to Dino and Reggie that they might like to sit next to each other. They’d been discussing company business across Molly. “Look, why don’t I trade places with one of you? It might make it easier for you to talk.”
Reggie waved her off. “Not a problem. We yack like this all the time.”
Molly pushed her chair back. “Really, I don’t mind.”
Dino rose. “Hey, thanks, Molly. Reggie and I were supposed to meet for lunch today to discuss a few things, but we both got busy.”
“If you don’t mind my hearing company secrets, be my guest.”
Dino’s face turned serious. “We’re an open book around here. Hell, the whole Valley, Carmel and Salinas, knows what’s been going on.” He jerked his head towards Todd Jessop’s empty chair. “You were at the shindig last week, right?”
When Molly nodded, he said, “Then you heard Prince Charming shoot off his mouth. Reggie and I are spending more time doing damage control over that than doing our jobs.”
Molly traded chairs, then said, “I was in the middle of it.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Sullivan broke in, “you were with Carmel’s chief of police. The big guy, Randall.”
“Hey, was he really a big honcho with LAPD’s Internal Affairs?” Dino asked.
Molly smiled. “You might say the biggest. And yes, I imagine he towered over everyone else as well.”
“Nice friend to have,” Sullivan said.
“He does come in handy sometimes.”
Sullivan slapped his forehead. “That’s right! You two have—”
“Been busy,” Molly said as she sipped her wine.
When Domenico Mattucci tapped his glass for silence, all heads turned in his direction. He held up a bottle of wine. “You will be drinking a gift from my cousins in Italy this evening. It’s a wonderful Barbera. The perfect accompaniment to pasta with a tomato-base sauce.” Nodding to Molly, he said, “In case you’re not a wine buff, the region of Piedmont is where the Barbera comes from. If you wonder why I say it is the best wine for pasta with a sauce such as we’re now being served, it’s because of the acidity in the tomatoes. Most red wines taste clumsy and too sweet. Barbera has what we call a bright acidity” He winked at Molly. “Ah, you find
that
wine, and you’re in heaven.”
Mattucci handed the bottle to the young server. He watched the pour, took the obligatory first sip, then nodded his approval. He kissed two fingers, then laughed.
“Magnifico.
The first glass is for our lovely new guest. May she join us often.”
Everyone waited until all the glasses were filled. As if on cue, they raised their glasses towards Molly. She blushed. “Thank you all for your warm welcome. I’m very flattered, and honored to be here.”
“Drink up,” Carla said. “This is only the beginning. Dinners with my father are like the old bacchanals. The wine never stops flowing.”
As each new platter of food arrived after the pasta, Molly soon felt the need to loosen her belt. Roasted Big Sur wild boar; all manner of roasted root vegetables; blue, white, and yellow potatoes; steamed asparagus and broccoli, and carrots with brown sugar filled every inch of the large table. Between sampling everything offered, Molly and Carla talked about schedules, and vendors to approach for the gift shop. The few times Carla left the table, Molly couldn’t help but hear the conversation between Dino and Reggie. Their anger with Todd over his continuous interference in the business grew stronger with each new glass of wine. It was only Dando Osa’s brief appearance that put a halt to their discussion. He was too far away from Molly to get a good look, but she could see that Osa was a surprisingly small man dressed in chef’s whites. The tall, round, pleated white toque on his head was tilted at a rakish angle. When Domenico Mattucci raised his glass and complimented Osa’s dinner, the mysterious cook merely smiled and waved, then quickly disappeared.
“That’s a first,” Reggie said. “We hardly ever see the guy.”
Dino laughed. “Hey, maybe he was curious about Molly here.”
By the time coffee and dessert arrived—which was, thankfully, a simple offering of biscotti Molly wondered if Todd was going to show up. She checked her watch and was surprised to see it was after nine. Molly caught Emma’s attention, and said, “We can’t stay much later. Em. School, remember?”
“I know,” Emma said. “Uh, Michelle was wondering if I could stay over?”
Molly shook her head. “Not this time. You don’t have any of your things. How about if Michelle stays with us this weekend?”
“Good idea,” Todd Jessop said as he came up behind Michelle and ruffled her hair. “Maybe you can put her to work doing something useful for once.”
Molly saw Michelle stiffen and brush her stepfather’s hand away.
Carla was returning to the table and saw her daughter’s gesture. She shot her husband a warning look. “That would be great, Molly.”
BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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