Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (34 page)

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Authors: Elaine Flinn

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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“Come on, you guys,” Stuart said. “This isn’t New Jersey. We’re not dealing with the Mob or Tony Soprano here.”
Randall laughed. He looked at Lucero. “Give him the facts of life, willya?”
Before Lucero could speak, Stuart said, “Okay, okay. I get it. The old man, Mattucci, right? The rumors of him being connected? I checked that out with my Nevada counterparts. He was suspected of being a bag man at the tables in Reno, that’s all. Running hot dough through the tables. He won just enough to make it look good. They never made a case on him. He and some sheep rancher friend out of Reno were watched for months. When they couldn’t get any hard evidence where the money they gambled with came from, they dropped it. Both men claimed the dough they threw around came from winnings at other casinos. Mostly in Vegas. In those days, things were a little looser. Especially in Vegas.”
“But what if Susan has shown those photos to Carla? And Carla is spooked?” Molly broke in. “She’d hardly want her kids, or her father to see her...well, like that. And if Mr. Mattucci had those kind of friends, couldn’t he have—?”
Daria was back with a platter of panini. “Are you still at this, Molly? I’m going to hijack you out to the kitchen to wash dishes if you don’t- ”
“No, wait,” Lucero said. “Leave her alone. Go on, Molly.”
“That’s all I had to say. It was just a thought. I was just thinking about the night Carla came into the shop to see the portfolio I’d made for the tasting room. The night Todd came in and got into it with Randall. She admitted to me that Todd had hit her. Randall urged her to file a complaint, but she refused. When she left, she made a comment that I just remembered.”
Randall said, “You’re right. Hell, I forgot all about that.”
“What did she say?” Stuart asked. “I’d like to hang my hat on something with this damn case.”
“When Carla was leaving, I told her to call me if she needed me. She said, ‘He won’t get away with this. I’m Italian, remember?’ I think those were her exact words.”
“So,” Stuart said, “you never told Reynolds any of this?”
Molly shook her head. “I’d forgotten until now. Besides, I never really thought Carla might be involved.”
“Well, she’s still top of the list, but hell, we all know how that works,” Lucero said. “I just can’t figure her having the connections to hire out.”
“I’d like to do more checking on Dino Horne and Reggie Sullivan,” Loomis added. “After Molly telling Randall what she’d overheard at the winery, I’d say there’s some reason to look at them a little harder.”
“Agreed. I’ve got people on them, too, but anything you can find is welcome. Look,” Stuart said, “our window is closing. Time is running out if Carla is planning on leaving the country. I’m going to bring both women in again. It’s time to take off the gloves. I have to be honest. This ‘face’ thing is not something I’m putting much store in for a motive.” Stuart laughed. “It’s too medieval to be valid.”
“Medieval?” Randall spit out. “Yeah, sure it is. But it still exists. When a Muslim woman is raped, her family kills her for the same reason. Shame,
face
—it’s the same thing, pal. Not everyone has left the Dark Ages.” He looked at Lucero. “Right?”
“Can’t argue with that. The same mentality still runs deep in Italian families.”
Randall picked up a bottle of Bello Lago wine. He turned the label face-out. “See this Latin phrase under the picture of the lake? Anyone know what it means?” When no one answered, he said, “
Non nobis solum nati sumus.”
When the silence remained, he said, “It’s something Cicero wrote, ‘We are not born for ourselves alone.’ That tell you anything? I put my money on the old man early on. Family first, and
face.
It’s all there. I figured he knew he was on his way out, and wanted Carla free of that prick so she could take over after he was gone without Jessop’s constant meddling. Divorce would have been the normal move. But Jessop had to be eliminated, not by some piece of paper, but permanently.” He picked up one of the photos.
“With no forensics, or real leads, you might be able to use these to sweat something out of the two women.”
“Wait,” Molly said. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Randall thinks Mr. Mattucci had Todd killed just to save face. And we’re assuming Susan and Carla were working together, too. Talk about a mess! I wonder how they come up with the plan to poison him? Get together for drinks and one of them says, ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea! Let’s poison Todd.’ Huh?”
“You’re looking for logic, Molly,” Lucero said. “If people always used logic, we’d all be out of a job.”
There was mischief in Molly’s voice when she said, “I wonder if Susan knows Carla is leaving the country next week.” When no one commented, Molly added, “I could ask her, couldn’t I?” She waited for that to sink in. “With your blessings, of course.”
Chapter 30
 
IT WAS AFTER NINE when Randall walked Molly home from Daria’s. They stopped in front of the Carmel Art Association building and sat on the broad stone steps leading to its beautiful sculpture garden. “Did you know,” Randall said, “this was built in nineteen-twenty-seven to showcase local artists, and it’s the second oldest non-profit artist co-op in the country?”
“No, but I should since I sell art. Don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to know stufflike that.”
“Our secret. I like to sit here at night when I take my walks. When I have things to think about. Like now. Like this meeting with Susan Jessop, for instance. We’re letting you do this on one condition,” he said. “You have a lunch, or a maybe a coffee, somewhere public so Loomis and I can keep an eye on you. Understand?”
“You’ve told me that. Maybe you might want to pick the place?”
“Don’t get snarky. I’m against this, but I’m willing to go along with it because I know you’ll do it anyway.”
“How’s the Village Corner? We can sit in the patio and you and Loomis can watch us from inside. I still don’t know why you have to be around. What’s she going to do? Pull a gun on me or something?”
“See? There you go again. You don’t listen. Loomis is going to tail her when she leaves you. We’re hoping she makes a beeline to Carla and stirs up some dust. We need to know, okay?”
Molly laughed. “Right, I got it. By the way, do you really think Dino Horne or Reggie Sullivan are involved?
“Personally? No. They should be knocked off the list. Sure,Jessop was a pain in the ass for both of them, but they weren’t really worried about losing their jobs. According to some of my pals up in Sonoma, Horne and Sullivan have had offers from vintners all over the country. More money, perks, and what have you. They stay because they’re home boys and would rather raise their kids here. The personal background checks Loomis did came up with nothing. No big debts, no hanky-panky, nothingJessop could have held over them.”
“I’m glad,” Molly said. “I like both of them. So, we’re down to Susan and Carla, I guess. Oh, and Mr. Mattucci, according to you.”
Randall didn’t say anything. He got up. “Come on. These steps are like ice.”
They walked on in silence for a few more blocks. When they reached the library, Randall said, “Feel like a nightcap? Maybe the Pine Inn?”
“I think I’ll pass,” Molly said. “I’m wiped out. Emma’s probably home by now, too. Do you mind?”
“Nah. I just thought you might want to, that’s all.”
“Can I take a rain check? Maybe we could make an evening out of it. You know, drown my sorrows when Emma leaves.”
“Hey, stop feeling guilty about feeling guilty. So you’re a little possessive about her and maybe jealous of what Macomber can give her. It’s natural.”
“Possessive? Jealous? You’re nuts. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Come on, Molly. Like I said, it’s natural. The mother instinct thing. It doesn’t matter that she’s not your kid. It matters that you’ve come to look at her that way. But you have to learn to let go. It happens to all of us.”
Molly folded her arms and sighed. “I don’t like the way you manage to see inside my head. I confess. I
am
being possessive and jealous. I’m afraid she’ll want to stay with him after the trip. And how selfish I am to even think that way.”
“Okay, she might. But I don’t think so. She loves you, Molly” He wrapped an arm around her. “We all do.”
The strength and comfort of Randall’s arm nearly brought tears to Molly’s eyes. An overwhelming feeling of wanting never to leave his affectionate embrace filled her. She leaned in and rested her head against his chest. “I’ve never known friends like all of you.” She looked up at him. “Especially you.”
The surprised grin on Randall’s face made her smile. “I shocked you for once, huh?”
“I always look goofy when I’m touched.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Yeah, do that.” He kept his arm around her and said, “Come on, let’s get you home before Emma gets worried and calls the cops.”
They crossed Ocean Avenue, then walked up the block to the shop. Randall hesitated. “You no doubt haven’t changed the lightbulb over the stairs.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He steered Molly under the arcade to the courtyard. At the foot of the back stairs, he said, “Call me after you talk to Susan Jessop so I can liaise with Loomis. Make it first thing, okay?”
“I know. Time is of the essence. I have an idea she’s an early riser. The leftover vestiges of the corporate woman. I’ll give her a buzz at seven-thirty, ask her to meet me for coffee at eight.”
“Works for me.” He leaned over and gave Molly a quick peck on the cheek, “Get some sleep. Stop worrying. Life is good.” He watched her smile. “It really is, if you let it.”
When Molly reached the top of the stairs, she pulled out her key, then turned and waved. “I’ll give that some thought.”
“Yeah, do that, why don’t you.”
Molly was grinning when she unlocked the door and entered the living room. “I just might do that,” she mumbled. She pulled off her jacket, dropped it on a chair, and headed for Emma’s room. The door was open, and the lights were on. She found Emma sitting on the bed, hunched over her laptop.
Emma looked up. “Hey, have a nice time at Daria’s?” Before Molly could answer, she said, “We saw a great new English movie. It reminded me of
Gosford Park,
the one we watched last week on TV? Oh, it was super. Marshall said we would be visiting grand houses like that when we go to England. He said I should make up a list of places I want to see, so I’m surfing the Net. I just left France.”
“Marshall?” Molly said.
Emma’s eyes had already moved back to the computer screen. “Hmm? Oh, he told me to call him that. He said I didn’t have to call him Dad until I was ready. And Bitsy called. She said to tell you that she’s taken care of my absence at school. Sister Phil is back from her trip, and she’ll see my counselor tomorrow. Charles will pick me up at seven tomorrow morning. Isn’t this exciting? New clothes and a trip to Europe? Awesome. I am so ready to explode!”
Molly had a sudden feeling of being asked to step into the waiting room while others decided the agenda. She should be grateful, but she still felt as if she were no longer relevant. She leaned over and kissed Emma on her forehead. “Don’t stay up too late. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
Emma looked up. “Oh, I guess Bitsy didn’t tell you we’re staying overnight in the City. She booked a suite for us at the Saint Francis. Did you know it was built in nineteen-hundred and four? Before that humongous earthquake? And they serve tea in the Compass Rose Lounge, and Bitsy said—” “That’s great, Emma. You’ll love staying there, it’s gorgeous,” Molly said rather quickly. “I’m beat. See you in the morning. Oh, better set your alarm.”
“Two steps ahead of you. I set it for six A.M. I’ll try not to wake you.”
Two steps ahead of me? It seems everyone else is, too! “I’ll be up.”
“Thanks for letting me go, Aunt Molly.”
Molly stopped at the door. She was glad her back was to Emma, and she couldn’t see the tear.
Letting go.
Yes, that’s exactly what she was doing. In her heart, she knew she had to. No matter what. She turned back and smiled. “How could I not?” She blew Emma a kiss. “Sleep tight.”
Molly also set her alarm clock for six A.M. She wouldn’t dream of not being up and about when Bitsy and Charles arrived. She might even hit the beach until it was time to call Susan Jessop. She sure as hell wasn’t going to mope around the apartment or search for imaginary dust in the shop.
 
After seeing Emma and Bitsy off, Molly headed for the beach. It was freezing, rain was threatening, and Molly gave up after ten minutes. She was out of breath by the time she’d trudged up the hill to Ocean Avenue. She knew she’d been foolish to walk nonstop. Her legs ached and her lungs felt raw. Being out of shape was no excuse. She was overweight by more than ten pounds, and she still smoked. It was time to do something about both problems. In a few days, after Emma left, she would be back to frozen dinners and solitary nights in front of the TV The twice-a-week dinners at Daria’s would be a challenge. But she knew she could handle that. The weight situation could be remedied. The killer was trying to quit smoking. She laughed as that ran past her brain. It was a killer either way.

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