A Flair for Chardonnay Read online

  Sadie nodded. “That’s the plan. When I checked the internet this morning, it looked like there were quite a few vacancies, so I took a chance and just drove up without a reservation, played it by ear, as they say.”

  “You should stay at Tina’s place,” Angelo said, turning to Luisa. “Don’t you think Tina has openings tonight? She had some people cancel earlier.”

  “I imagine she does,” Luisa said. She eyed Sadie with little warmth and handed her a small brochure from behind the counter.

  “Tina’s place?” Sadie said, looking down at the pamphlet. The picture on the cover showed an exquisite Victorian bed and breakfast with immaculate landscaping and a sign over the door announcing it as “The Vintage Vine.”

  “Stefano’s wife,” Angelo explained. “Both my brother and sister-in-law, Tina, have a passion for business. They own The Vintage Vine, as well as Vines and Tines, a shop on the town plaza. Tina runs the bed and breakfast, while Stefano runs the store.”

  “And then we have the business here, of course,” Luisa added. “Which we all run.” The look she shot Angelo made it clear she felt some put in more effort than others, perhaps because their business energy was centered elsewhere.

  “Angelo! Luisa!” The sharp voice caused Sadie to jump, as focused as she was on the stiff interaction between brother and sister. All three turned to face a short, stout woman with salt and pepper hair who stepped into the doorway. She noticed Sadie and smiled, revealing a gleaming gold cap on a front tooth. “Scusi…”

  “Mama, we have a visitor, as you can see,” Angelo said. “Sadie is here from San Francisco for the weekend. I think she might stay at Tina’s place.” He turned back to Sadie. “This is our mother, Elena Tremiato.”

  “Ah, excellent!” Elena shouted before Sadie could even say hello. “You will love our Tina’s place. She has decorated it so beautifully! A princess could live there.”

  Sadie noticed Luisa turning away as Elena raved about Tina’s wonderful bed and breakfast. Did she sense jealousy?

  Sadie waved the brochure in the air with enthusiasm that matched Elena’s. “I’ll drive by the store and the inn. Thanks so much for the recommendation.” Balancing her tote bag’s straps delicately on her shoulder, she said goodbye and made her way to the parking lot as a heated exchange of words started up behind her. However pleasant the winery appeared on the surface, the undercurrents were as angry and tense as the phone call she’d overheard with Matteo. Something wasn’t quite right at the Tremiato Winery. The question was: what was it?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sadie hopped in the car, twisting the key in the ignition and checking her makeup in the visor's mirror at the same time. Not enough eye shadow, she mused. Or maybe just a brighter shade... She'd pick up a festive color when she had a chance.

  “What do you think, Coco?” Sadie reached into the tote bag and pulled out the squirming ball of fluff, holding Coco up against her face so they could look in the mirror together. “C’mon, now, one yip for an exotic color around the eyes, two yips for brighter lipstick.”

  Instead of yipping an answer, the Yorkie gave Sadie’s cheek a canine kiss. Sadie reciprocated with a pat on the head. “I know, Coco, you love me just as I am. I feel the same way. Besides, I don’t think you’d care for lipstick unless it tasted like peanut butter.” Sadie adjusted the velvet pillow in the tote bag, placed the dog back inside and adjusted the seatbelt harness that held the bag in place. “Let’s go check out this inn of Tina’s. What do you say to that?” She smiled at the immediate yip of approval. It was rare she didn’t gain Coco’s enthusiasm when the word “go” turned up anywhere in a sentence.

  She flipped the visor up and clicked through the radio stations. She settled on jazz and cranked the volume up before she backed the car out of the parking spot. With the convertible top down and Coltrane blasting across the open vineyards, she cruised out to the main highway.

  As she left the Tremiato property behind for magazine-perfect scenery, Sadie passed winery after winery with decorative entrances and fancy signage inviting visitors to meander up vineyard-flanked driveways. Dozens of businesses of all sizes with names of French, Italian or uncertain origin, all promised the same thing: California-grown wine from one of the world’s most famous wine areas. She wished she had time to visit them all and compare!

  The town center was hopping. Tourists bustled down sidewalks, chatting with each other and ducking in and out of boutiques. Sadie circled at least ten minutes before she found a parking place on a side street. Even that was a challenge; she parallel parked between two greedy vehicles that had left plenty of room on opposite ends, but little for her. Fortunately, the gentle taps she'd made on their bumpers while squeezing into the small space didn't leave any marks.

  She found Vines and Tines wedged between a coffee house and a pet boutique. A must visit! Maybe I’ll find a sweet coat with a grapevine design for Coco.

  Vines and Tines’ entrance, two stately doors made of walnut-framed stained glass, enchanted Sadie. She smiled as she reached for the door handles, over-sized and shaped like forks. Clever! Whimsical! If the interior proved to be just as charming, it would be worth visiting, whether it provided information or not.

  Sadie assumed the handsome young man behind the cash register was Stefano. Two young women leaned against the counter fiddling with the impulse buy displays, whispering and batting their lashes. The tall, muscular man grinned and leaned toward the smitten customers. Ah, to be young again, Sadie thought. In years past, she might have fought for his attention herself. As it was, his preoccupation with the young women gave her a chance to observe. Or spy, to be more specific.

  Vines and Tines carried such distinctive and whimsical merchandise that Sadie came close to forgetting the actual purpose of her visit. A sleek, teak table held a setting for an elegant, upscale dinner; a floral arrangement of ivory roses and bursts of dark red berries matched the silk placemats. An ornate silver wine holder encircled a bottle of Tremiato Pinot Noir, the rich color of the wine echoing the deep colors embedded in the centerpiece, almost as if the berries had been infused with the wine itself. Business cards from a local event planner formed a tiny fan on one corner of the table.

  Instinctively, Sadie leaned forward to smell the flowers, realizing halfway there that her nose was likely to run into silk. To her surprise, the roses were real.

  Another table displayed a picnic fit for a perfect summer day. This table was rustic and casual and, had it not been covered with the heavenly picnic fare, could have been an item in the back pages of any outdoor furniture magazine. But the woven basket overflowing with fruit, cheese and baguettes in the center of the table enticed guests to slide onto one of the redwood benches, cut a generous slice of Gouda from an apple-shaped serving board, and enjoy it with an imported English water cracker. Sadie guessed both the cheese and crackers were samples to be tasted. If the bottle of Tremiato Chardonnay on the table had been open, the situation would have been perfect.

  Sadie had never been shy, so she set down her tote bag gently on one bench, scooted in beside it and gathered a generous serving of cheese and crackers onto a sturdy blue plate, knocking over two hand-painted acrylic wine glasses and a papier mâché watermelon in the process. A quiet “yip” escaped the tote, and Sadie hushed the unseen Coco, then shrugged her shoulders and smiled sweetly at the customers who had turned toward her. As the attention shifted away from her again, she broke a water cracker in half and slyly slipped it into her tote bag.

  “Dishwasher and microwave safe!”

  Even Stefano’s voice was attractive, Sadie thought as she looked up at the second oldest Tremiato brother. She saw that his fan club had departed. She straightened up, pulled her tote bag a bit closer, and swallowed a mouthful of Brie.

  “Those are great qualities for dishware to have." Sadie lifted her plate to offer him cheese and crackers but quickly set it down, realizing the ridiculousness of the move.

  Stefano picked up a plate and t
apped it with his finger, the blunt sound revealing the dish was plastic. “Durable and unbreakable,” he added. “Perfect for a picnic. Just toss the dishes back in the basket after your meal and throw them in the dishwasher when you get home.”

  “Every household should have some!” Sadie said. She wondered if she’d just committed to buying a set of the blue picnic ware. "Speaking of home, I'm in need of one for the weekend. Angelo and Luisa recommended your wife’s bed and breakfast. They thought there might be an opening tonight. They gave me a brochure.”

  "So you've been to our family vineyards." Stefano grinned. "And now our shop – my shop, that is. This business is independent of the winery, which is a family business. The Vintage Vine, our bed and breakfast, and this shop belong only to me and my wife, not to the Tremiato family. Let me call Tina to let her know to expect you."

  Sadie watched Stefano walk away, curious about his comments. Sadie wondered why Stefano felt a need to point out that the businesses he and Tina ran did not exist under the umbrella of the Tremiato vineyards and winery. Was this out of pride? Or maybe he just had a possessive nature. Either way, it seemed an odd thing for him to have pointed out so emphatically. Why would he think she needed to know who owned the various businesses? Why would he be so eager to say?

  Stefano soon returned looking cheerful and announced that he'd spoken with Tina and there was definitely a room available.

  "You're in luck, my dear. There’s just one room open, but it’s a very nice one with a view of the back garden."

  "That sounds perfect!” As Sadie stood, she reached for another slice of cheese. “I'd better go get checked in, before someone else books the room."

  "Oh, don't worry," Stefano said. "Tina is holding it for you. Head down Main Street, take a left at the old courthouse, a right three blocks later on Baker, and then one more right on Spruce. The inn will be on the left. You can't miss it. There's a beautifully carved wood sign in front."

  "I'll do just that, thank you," Sadie said. "I’m grateful for your exceptional hospitality, and for your brother and sister’s kindness. Your family is most charming."

  "Yes, I suppose they can be." Stefano’s reply was aloof, as if he didn’t agree with Sadie’s assessment of his siblings.

  Again, Sadie sensed tension within the family. This matched Matteo’s tone during the phone call she’d overheard. She was more certain than ever that Matteo had been speaking with a family member – possibly this family member.

  "I may just be back for that picnic ware," Sadie said as she exited, Stefano accompanying her. She bid him goodbye, headed to the car and drove off along Main Street.

  One left and two right turns brought Sadie to The Vintage Vine. Not quite in the center of town, yet close enough to stroll to shops and cafes, the charming bed and breakfast was in a perfect location. Sadie compared the picture of the inn on the brochure to the building in front of her. The actual B&B was even more enchanting than its photograph. Miniature roses wove themselves through the white porch railings, and containers of primrose and pansies adorned the stairs. A stained glass window was built into the front door with smaller matching windows to each side of the wooden doorframe. A rocking chair faced inward from one side of the porch. The prospect of sipping chilled wine while rocking was soothing enough to draw Sadie from her car. She climbed the stairs to the front porch and knocked gently on the door.

  Tina Tremiato was about 5'2" and not an ounce over 100 pounds, as far as Sadie could tell. Somehow she'd expected someone taller and more physically commanding, perhaps because Stefano seemed so large and powerful. Even as she thought this, she knew it was just another stereotype that comes from nowhere – the vision of what a couple would look like. Once the woman spoke, Sadie knew Tina was as tough as Stefano seemed to be. Despite her size, Tina Tremiato spoke boldly and with confidence. She was not to be underestimated.

  "Good afternoon. You must be Sadie.” The innkeeper's stance was friendly, yet alert, as if she were prepared to welcome customers, but not hesitant to shoo away solicitors.

  “Yes, I’m Sadie Kramer. How did you know so certainly?”

  Tina stepped back and ushered Sadie into an elegant parlor. “Stefano said you were the height of fashion, like a walking field of wildflowers.”

  Sadie laughed, thrilled that her fashion statement had made such an impression, then stood and took in everything she could see of the front of the inn.

  "Oh my, what a gorgeous place you have!" Sadie exclaimed. "Every bit as beautiful as in the brochure." She pulled the pamphlet out of her tote bag's side pocket and waved it in the air. "I'm delighted you have a room available!"

  "Yes, the Merlot Room is available tonight, because of a cancellation." Tina's voice trailed off as she moved to a registration desk and made a note in the ledger. "It's a lovely room with a queen bed and small sitting area. The private bath has a claw foot tub, and the room has a view of the back garden."

  "Would it happen to be available for two nights?” Sadie watched as Tina flipped a page over and nodded.

  "Absolutely."

  “Perfect!" Sadie beamed.

  "Ah, a weekend escape, I take it." Tina smiled as she handed Sadie a registration card and a pen.

  “Yes, exactly!” Sadie filled out the required information and gave Tina a credit card to authorize the stay. With key in hand, she headed off to settle in.

  She found the Merlot Room at the end of the main hall not far from a back door to the inn, a convenient spot for easy entrances and exits. Other than the possibility of slight noise from a side parking lot, the location promised to be fairly quiet since it was away from the common rooms where other guests might congregate over wine and cheese in the late afternoon or play cards or board games in the evening. She did play a mean game of Gin Rummy; if she had time, maybe she’d round up some players at some point during her visit.

  One trip to the car was all it took to bring in what she needed – her overnight bag and a small, folding crate that she considered to be Coco’s portable palace. She’d had it custom designed, along with a floral canvas bag that was large enough to hold the folded contraption and nondescript enough to pass as a small portfolio or flat case of some sort. After all, some establishments just didn't have a full appreciation of canine chicanery.

  “What do you think, Coco? Should we set you up near the window?” Sadie leaned over the tote bag, which she’d placed on a comfy wing-backed chair. This could be a risky move since Coco sometimes batted a paw upwards whenever a hint of freedom was in the air. Fortunately, Coco weighed just four pounds, so even a swat on Sadie’s nose would have done little damage.

  Sadie set Coco’s crate up near the window, pausing to note the beautifully landscaped back garden. A cobblestone pathway meandered from the inn’s back door to the parking lot, passing clusters of purple iris and yellow daffodils. Cornflower blue agapanthus stood tall above a sea of Irish moss, a park-style bench nearby inviting guests to sit and relax a spell. Sadie made a note to herself to take advantage of that particular spot to enjoy a couple of chapters from her current mystery read.

  It only took a few minutes to set up Coco’s elegant accommodation. The light metal “palace" unfolded easily, its raw silk lining already attached to the interior. Sadie quickly placed the Yorkie’s favorite toy – a petite stuffed octopus – in one corner, along with the tiny china bowls that served as food and water dishes. The Villeroy pattern actually matched the garden outside.

  Once Coco was settled and content, Sadie unpacked a few clothes and checked her cell phone to find a message from Flair. She moved the empty tote bag onto the floor, slid into the wing-backed chair, and called the store. Her assistant manager answered the phone right away.

  “Hi, Amber, everything fine at Flair?” Amber was a solid generation behind Sadie but had a natural knack for knowing what fashion styles people preferred, regardless of their ages. She had an uncanny memory that allowed her to remember the last few purchases a customer had made. In addition,
she shared Sadie’s love of chocolate, which was a plus in Sadie’s book.

  “Everything’s fine,” Amber said. “I just wanted you to know that new jewelry line came in, the one that goes well with the silk scarves we ordered at the last gift show. Do you want me to put those out and redo the display in the front window to include a few pieces?”

  “Great idea,” Sadie replied. “Just check the packing slip to make sure nothing’s missing and then price each item before putting it out. Anything else?”

  “Mrs. Gillespie picked up that beaded vest she special ordered…and, nothing else that I can think of. Oh, except, I tried to get some afternoon treats for customers from Matteo’s today, but his shop was closed.”

  “That’s odd,” Sadie said. “He always stays open until six o’clock or later, since so many people stop by after work.”

  “I know, that’s why it struck me as strange. His sign is turned to ‘closed,’ and there’s no note to explain why.”

  “Thanks, Amber. I wouldn't worry about it. Maybe he wasn't feeling well and just closed up early. But you might check at noon tomorrow, when he usually opens.”

  “I will, Sadie. You just enjoy your weekend.”

  “I plan to!” Sadie wanted to share her enthusiasm with Amber. “I’m at an enchanting bed and breakfast and planning to attend a festival tomorrow. And St. Vin has some unique shops. I should be able to get some ideas for ours. Always good to find new things.”

  Sadie ended the call and set her phone on an antique oak dresser. She frowned. Between the argument she’d overheard Matteo having and now his closing the shop early, something was definitely not right.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sadie approached the Tremiato winery anticipating all the happy elements of a festival: a crowded parking lot, visitors sipping wine cheerfully and sampling other goodies in the tasting room, both edible and not. What she found, instead, was anything but a party. Several police cars, lights flashing, blocked a portion of the parking lot. She pulled up as far as possible, parked her car and walked closer. No one seemed to notice her arrival, which suited her just fine. She circled the area, joining a group of onlookers who held glasses with varying shades of white, rosé or red wine. A few took sips, while most simply clutched their drinks and stared.