Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

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BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery

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Michelle smiled at Molly. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

Taking the empty seat opposite Molly, Jessop said, “Sorry I missed dinner. My appointments up north ran longer than I’d thought.”

Jessop took out a large envelope and tossed it to Reggie. “I brought you some samples of labels I want you to look over. You’ll love them.”

Reggie rose, pushed back his chair, and threw down his napkin in disgust. He ignored the envelope. “How many times do I have to tell you we are not changing our label? Damn it, Jessop, give it a rest.”

“Don’t get your balls in a twist, Sullivan. It won’t hurt to take a look. Time to get into the new century. Today’s buyer wants to relate to
his
world, not to the distant past. Get with the times, or fall behind.”

“I don’t care if other vintners are changing to abstract art, funky pictures of animals, or dead pop stars,” Sullivan said. “We don’t sell wine to drugged-out hippies having dreams of Marilyn Monroe, or Baby Boomers who still read the comics. We sell quality, not shit.” Sullivan glanced around the table. His eyes rested on Domenico. “My apologies, boss.”

Mattucci’s eyes were hooded. He waved at Sullivan. “Not accepted. You said nothing wrong. Sit down, enjoy your coffee.”

Molly was surprised when Jessop looked at her and smiled. “And how was your day, Ms. Doyle? Exciting, I hope.”

Her tone was cautious. “It was interesting. A glitch or two, but that’s life.”

“Well, you seem to be a big enough girl to handle a setback or two.”

Molly knew Jessop was baiting her. When conversations stopped, and all eyes turned to them, it was apparent they knew it, too. “Big enough,” Molly said, “to handle people who like to jerk me around.”

Jessop’s laugh was short, but nasty. “Ohhh, I sure wouldn’t want to tangle with you.”

Molly had had just enough wine to feel more than relaxed. She knew if she drained her still half-full glass, she might not pass a sobriety test. But then, there were pots full of coffee on the table and enough biscotti to sop up any damage. Molly emptied her glass, then leaned into the table. “Wise decision. A bit late however. Too bad you didn’t think of that earlier.”

“Excuse me?” Jessop said.

The last of the wine zipped through Molly like lightning. “No, I don’t think I will. You almost made an ass out of me this morning with Blue Moon Auctions. Lucky for you, I know the auction manager. I was able to get out of bidding for you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Molly leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “You’re a bad liar. You set me up. When I found out you hadn’t arranged financials, did you think I was dumb enough to go on with the bidding and then pay for it myself thinking you’d reimburse me? Oh, you need to work on your payback skills. You’re not as good as you think.”

“What’s going on, Molly?” Carla asked. “What the hell is this all about?”

Molly nodded at Jessop. “Go on, tell Carla.”

Jessop looked at his wife then waved Molly off. “I told you not to trust her. She’s off her skull. Too much wine, maybe?”

Molly stared at Jessop. “Really? Well, why don’t you tell her how you called me Saturday night and asked me to bid on the English pub bar and the two French display cabinets Blue Moon auctions had up this morning. The apology gift you wanted to offer Carla for...for...” Molly saw the look in Carla’s eyes and stopped there. Tearing into Jessop was one thing, but she wouldn’t shame Carla in front of everyone.

Jessop looked at his wife, then shrugged. “This is a pure fabrication. I never called you. You’re nuts, or drunk. Or maybe this is just a scam? Is that it? You dreamed this up just to get back at me for calling you a lightweight.” Todd rose and stared at Molly. “Well, you are. And you’re a loser, too.” He laughed then. “That’s probably why they kicked you out of New York when you got arrested for selling fake antiques. And your husband took off with another woman.”

Every jaw around the table had dropped. Even the servers were frozen in place.

Like a jack-in-the-box, Molly was on her feet. She held onto the table, and leaned in, only inches from his face. “I wasn’t involved in the fakes, and you damn well know it! If there’s a loser here, it’s you!”

Jessop’s hand came up as if to strike Molly. He caught himself, then shouted, “You mangy bitch!”

Molly had no idea her reflexes were so swift. In less than a blink of an eye, she grabbed Dino Horne’s full glass of wine and threw it in Jessop’s face. It was a terrible waste of excellent wine, but the sacrifice was worth it.

The room was so silent, you could hear the pine trees whispering outside.

Carla gasped, Domenico Mattucci grinned, and Dino and Reggie were dumbstruck.

Molly, however, was in shock. She stared at the empty wineglass, then looked at Carla. “I...I’m so sorry.”

“I am, too,” Carla said. “I wish I’d done it.”

Chapter 7

HALFWAY DOWN Carmel Valley Road towards Carmel, Molly pulled onto the shoulder and hit the brakes. “Did I apologize to everyone?”

“Yes,” Emma said.

“Are you sure? I... I’m still in a fog.”

Emma sighed. “I think you did it twice. If it makes you feel any better, Mr. Mattucci gave you a hug and Michelle said he doesn’t do that very often. Guess that says something.”

Molly’s free hand searched for her tote. “Find my cigarettes, would you? No lectures, okay? I think I’m entitled.”

Emma found the pack and pulled a cigarette out for Molly. “Here, be entitled.”

“Emma, please.”

“I’m kidding. I know you’re upset.” She held up Molly’s Zippo. “I’ll flick the torch.”

Molly took an unusually deep drag. It was as if the nicotine could purge her actions. She couldn’t remember losing it like that in public. Not that she hadn’t a worthy occasion or two. Her only saving grace was that she hadn’t been the only one there who’d wanted to do the same thing. The looks of satisfaction on Reggie Sullivan’s and Dino Horne’s faces were almost comical. Nevertheless, what she’d done was, for her, beyond the pale. She’d have to say a dozen Hail Marys tonight. As Molly pulled into the alley behind the shop, she amended that thought. Two dozen might be better. By the time she and Emma were ready for bed, she amended her thoughts again. Screw it, she murmured as she climbed into bed.

On the phone the next morning with Bitsy, Molly pulled the phone from her ear. Bitsy Morgan could go on for hours about her shopping trips. It only took a few well-placed responses to not insult her, but at the moment, Molly was more concerned with how she was going to face Todd Jessop next time she saw him. Moving the phone a few more inches away, she thought about Carla’s earlier call. She said that Todd had slammed out of the house this morning on a rampage. She suggested Molly keep an eye out. Not that she thought he’d come storming into the shop, but one never knew with him.

“I’m still mortified,” Molly had told Carla. “I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can face your family again.”

“He asked for it. Look, Molly, I know all about New York, and I know the truth. After you left, Todd started in again and my father told him off. I made sure everyone there knew the real story. In fact, my father thought you were terrific. So, no more regrets. I’ll deal with my husband when the time is right.” Carla laughed then. “Dino and Reggie thought you were awesome.”

Molly hadn’t called Randall last night. She hadn’t been in a mood to talk to anyone. She didn’t need Randall going off half-cocked.

She moved the phone back to her ear as Bitsy continued to give her a shop-by-shop description of the tacky clothes with Rodeo-Drive prices. “Yes, Bitsy, I can just imagine. But, that’s the look today. Not for us, naturally. Hmm? Yes, I’ll be here today. Where the hell else would I be?” Molly laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“Do you want me to come in tomorrow?” Bitsy asked. “I’ve tons to do, but I can squeeze a few hours in.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve got all the merch Max sent down to place. But if you could handle next Saturday, I’d love you forever. Emma’s been itching to hit the garage sales, and she wants to take Michelle Giordano with us.”

“I’ll be there,” Bitsy said. “Oh, Lord! How self-centered I’ve been! Did you get the job with Carla Jessop? How did it go with her husband?”

Oh, if you only knew, Molly thought. “Piece of cake,” Molly replied. “She loved all the pieces I picked out.”

“Oh, darling! I’m just thrilled for you. Well, listen, I’d love to chat more, but I’ve got to run. I’m on my way to the salon. My hair is a shambles. Call you later.”

Molly had to laugh. Bitsy Morgan’s snow-white chignon was never a shambles. She was always beautifully dressed, always
au courant,
and always a gorgeous seventy-plus dynamo. No one knew what the plus figure was, but it didn’t matter. Bitsy had enough energy for two people. She claimed her secret was clean living and good bourbon.

When the bell over the door rang, Molly looked up and saw Daria coming in with a bemused look on her face. “Okay, spill. It’s all over town, but I want your version.”

Molly sank into her chair. “Shit.”

“That ain’t the half of it. Randall’s coming down the block like he’s chasing a face on a wanted poster.”

Daria pulled one of the lap dancer’s chairs to Molly’s desk. “Hmmm. This is comfy. I could use these at the restaurant. I see ‘sold’ tags. Who’s buying them?”

“Oh, great. That’s all I need now. I didn’t want him to know.”

“Too late, my dear. You keep forgetting this is a small village. So, who bought the chairs? Got any more?”

Molly sighed. “Four more, but all sold, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Daria grinned. “No, don’t. That
lady
from the City, right? The, uh, the one with the dancers?”

Molly’s first real smile of the day felt good. “Now you’re a mind reader? She’s become a good customer, so no smart cracks.”

Daria’s shrug was good-natured. “I don’t question my customers either. For all I know, I’ve fed embezzlers, polygamists, and maybe a few card sharks. Not to mention one or two Tony Soprano lookalikes.”

Randall stood in the open door. He scanned the shop for customers, then said, “Okay, what the hell happened last night? Didn’t I warn vou about that prick?”

“Grab a chair and simmer down,” Daria said to Randall.

Molly felt as though she were on the witness stand. The urge to disappear was overwhelming. Randall took hold of the other chair that matched Daria’s. “Well? You were supposed to call me.”

Molly filled them in. “I don’t want to hear any more ‘I told you so’s. It was the
mangy
part that got to me. I guess that’s when I lost it. ”

Daria was laughing so hard, she was holding her sides. Randall’s face was impassive.

“That’s it. All of it. End of story.
Fini.”

“You call me if he shows up, understand?” Randall said.

“He won’t show his face here, don’t worry. I’m not on his hit parade,” Molly said.

“Poor choice of words,” Randall shot back.

“Come on! Let’s not blow this up. He’s—”

“He’s rude, arrogant, and an all-around piece of shit. But I’m stuck with him for the present,” Carla Jessop said as she walked in and headed for Molly’s desk. She was waving an envelope in her hand like an electric fan run amok. She handed it to Molly. “For your bill. I hope this check is the right amount. I pulled the figures from memory and added an apology bonus.” Nodding a hello to Daria and Randall, she said, “So, how are two of my favorite people ? Here to interrogate Molly, Chief? Guess you heard about last night. I guess everyone has. I was at the post office before I came here, and two of our wine clients asked me if Molly Doyle really threw a punch at Todd. Can you imagine what people are going to have Molly do next? Throw him off the Bixby Bridge, I guess.”

Molly shook her head. “No, not there. I’ll never go over that bridge again.”

Randall and Daria laughed. Carla asked, “Something I should know?”

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery

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