Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (28 page)

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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Molly nodded, and climbed in the van. “Yeah? Well, I’m a little pissed at Carla, too. What’s Michelle’s problem?”
Emma shrugged. “They’re leaving next week. She doesn’t want to go.”
Before Molly could reply, Michelle opened the back door to the van and climbed in. “They’re coming out with the boxes now,” she told Molly. “My mother said to meet her back at the tasting room.”
While Molly waited with the two girls for the boxes to arrive, she tried to think of some excuse to leave the van and call Randall. She was itching to tell him about the conversation she’d overheard between Dino Horne and Reggie Sullivan, and thought he might also be interested in Carla’s travel plans. She grabbed her cell out of the van. On the pretense of stretching her legs, she said, “I’m going to take a short stroll and check with Bitsy.”
Appearing to take her time, Molly punched in Randall’s number. When he answered, she quickly said, “Don’t interrupt and listen carefully. I don’t have much time, and I can’t repeat myself.” She relayed what she could remember, then added, “An
FYI
just in case. I’ve got to go.”
“Good work, McGee,” Randall said. “Very good work. I’ll see you later.”
 
“Let me do the unpacking,” Molly said to Carla as the boxes began to arrive. “I get the impression you’ve got some things to do, so I’ll get everything out. Give me a couple of hours, and we should have everything open and arranged. If you can find some trash bags for the packing stuff, we can keep everything neat.”
“Great,” Carla said. “I’ve got a few problems in the office I need to handle. Some of our corks from Portugal are defective. I’ve got to sort it out. I’ll have someone come back with the bags.”
Molly set up a production line for the unpacking. Emma stood on one side of the table ready to take the packing material, and Michelle held the big plastic trash liners open for Emma. Molly was careful, but relentless. The sooner she was out of there the better. Except for the few good pieces she’d seen in the cave, the majority of the items were nothing to get excited over. But when she was down to the last boxes, all that changed. Molly’s eyes popped open when she pulled old newspaper away from two dishes separated only by a thin layer of cardboard. Her hands began to shake as she carefully set them down. She glanced at Emma, and said,
“Montelupo!
Can you believe this? Two of them!”
Emma hurried to Molly’s side. “This is new to me. What are they?”
“Uh, only just incredible mid-seventeenth-century pottery! Will you look at the colors! Oh, the ochre and blue are to die for,” Molly said.
Michelle joined them. “Just looks like some ancient dudes on horseback to me.”
Molly’s laugh was nervous. “I’ve only seen one of these. And that was at a Sotheby auction when I was in London. Don’t touch them, okay? I want to see what else is in here.” Molly’s hands were already sweating from excitement. She wiped them on her jeans, pulled out the next parcel, and unwrapped the old newspaper to find a silver cup with a turned-wood handle. “Oh, this is nice. It’s a brandy saucepan.” Molly turned it over. “The maker’s mark is faint, but I’ll guess it’s a London silversmith and possibly George the Second.”
“How much money are we talking about?” Emma asked.
Molly thought for a moment, then said, “The two dishes are close to ten grand and this little darling could be anywhere between eight and nine hundred.” She smiled at Michelle. “I can’t wait to tell your mother! Isn’t this exciting?”
Michelle shrugged. “I guess so. She could use some good news today. We all could.” The young girl turned away and covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sick of all the fighting at home!”
Molly was at her side. She wrapped an arm around Michelle. “Hey, I know this past week has been hard on everyone but try to hang in there, okay? Your mother is under a lot of stress right now.”
Michelle threw off Molly’s arm. “I hate her! And I hate my brother. All they do is fight over this stupid winery. My grandfather is dying, and now he’s changed his will and taken my brother out of it. Nicky stormed out of the house and told my mother he was going to live with our other grandfather. And if we go to Peru for some stupid vintner’s conference, we won’t be here when my grandfather dies! It’s horrible!”
“Your grandfather isn’t going to die right away,” Molly said. “He’s had a stroke, but that doesn’t mean—”
“You’re wrong! He’s going to die. He said so himself.”
Molly glanced at Emma. “Maybe you and Michelle need to take a break. Why don’t you both go outside for a little while? I can handle what’s left. I’ll call Carla as soon as I open the last box.”
Molly watched the girls leave. She shook her head and turned back to the box she’d been unpacking. She carefully set the two Montelupo dishes and the brandy saucepan aside. The Bristol Delft charger she discovered in the next box should have lit up her eyes. But Michelle’s outburst clouded her thoughts. She was only dimly aware of the exquisite colors on the rare and expensive dish and numbly set it down. Why were they leaving for South America? Why wasn’t Reggie Sullivan, the marketing director going instead? And why was Carla’s father convinced he would die soon? Her mind churning over Michelle’s outburst, Carla’s rude challenge to her in the cave and the conversation between Dino Horne and Reggie Sullivan clouded her awareness when she lifted more newspaper and found what looked like a two-tiered leather belt with two wide leather rings attached. She pulled it out and set it on the table. Under the belt, she found two strange-looking leather pads with straps and a sharp spike attached at the end.
Molly frowned. Searching her vast store of knowledge, she had no idea what these odd-looking things were, or why they were packed with an expensive Bristol dish. She looked at the belt-things again, then shrugged and put them back in the box. Most likely, she finally decided, they were some sort of farming implements Carla’s grandmother had found. The last box yielded a mix of unimpressive pottery, a few photograph frames, and several mismatched cups and saucers.
Molly set about packing up the more mundane items and left the best pieces on the table for Carla to see. She called Carla on her cell and told her she was ready to leave. When Carla arrived a few minutes later, Molly showed her the great finds. She told her what they would bring at auction, but if she wanted to keep them, along with the Bow and claret jugs, and the set of Italian dishes, she suggested they be placed in one of the display cabinets that had locks. “Considering the values here, it might be wise to call your insurance company.”
Carla ran her hand over one of them and smiled. “I had no idea a silly little dish could be worth so much. Thanks for being honest with me. You could have—”
“No. I couldn’t have and I wouldn’t have,” Molly said. “I don’t operate that way.”
Carla gave Molly a quick nod. “Of course not. That’s why I hired you.” When Carla’s cell rang, she stepped a few feet away. Molly saw the tight set of her lips as she listened to the caller. She saw Carla look at her watch, then heard her say, “You’re an hour early. I’m not ready for you. I’ve got someone here. Give me twenty minutes.”
Carla snapped the cell against her thigh to close it, then said to Molly, “I don’t want any of these expensive things here. We get hundreds of tourists in here every month. God only knows who might recognize what this stuff is worth. How about taking everything back to your shop and selling them?”
Molly thought for a moment. The offer was tempting, and the commission would be delicious. “Let me think about it. I’d have to check my client list.”
“Just take them. I’m in no hurry for the money.”
“Okay. I’ll fax you a list and valuation estimate as soon as I get back to the shop.”
Carla squeezed Molly’s arm and smiled. “Great. Let me give you a hand packing this up. I’ve got an appointment showing up early.” Carla moved to the table and picked up one of the boxes Molly had set on the floor. “You wrap, and I’ll fill the box.”
It only took Molly a short time to double-wrap the dishes and the brandy cup. As an afterthought, she picked up the small wooden box that held the silver wine labels. “I’ll get the chains on the labels fixed for you. We can set them in a shadow box and hang them in here.”
“Great. Whatever,” Carla said as she placed the wrapped packages in the box. “I’ll help you carry the boxes to the car.”
“I can manage,” Molly said. “You go ahead and get ready for your appointment.”
Molly found Emma waiting at the van as she carried out a box. “Open up, would you? Carla wants me to take the pricey stuff to the shop to sell.”
“Oh, cool! Wait until Bitsy gets a gander at those dishes! I can’t wait to look them up in
Miller’s.”
Molly smiled. “Forget
Miller’s.
It’s a year old. We need current prices. I’ll call Cleo in London. Where’s Michelle? We could use her to help us load the rest of the boxes.”
“She just took off for those vineyards we passed on the way to the shed. She’s still mad at her mother. She said she likes to walk out there sometimes. I figured I should stay here in case you wanted me.”
Molly set the box in the back of the van and then pulled out the three old blankets she kept there to protect furniture she might buy at a sale. After the remaining boxes had been loaded, she placed blankets around some of the boxes for a cushion in case she had to hit the brakes. When they were ready to leave, Molly turned to look out the back window as she pulled out. She braked so quickly when she saw who was in the car passing behind her that Emma lurched. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Susan Jessop was in the passenger seat and the bothersome TV reporter who had been calling her for an interview was driving. Randall, she quickly realized, had been right. How he knew Susan planned to show up was beyond her, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She only cared about getting the hell out of there.
Fat chance of that. It was too late. Susan saw her and waved.
“Crap,” Molly said.
Emma turned as the car pulled alongside. “Gulp. I see what you mean. This is so not a good place to be right now.” She looked at Molly. “Do you think there’ll be a cat fight?”
“I don’t know what to think, but we’re leaving.” Molly began to slowly back away, but it was too late again. The TV reporter was out of the car and knocking on Emma’s window.
Emma asked, “Should I ignore her?”
Molly stopped the van. “No. Open the window, but let me do the talking.”
“What great timing,” the TV reporter rushed before Molly could say a word. “Hang on a minute.” She turned away and motioned to Susan to get out of the car.
Before Molly could reply, another car parked on the other side of her. A young man jumped out, leaned over the seat, and pulled out a mini-cam. Molly’s mouth fell open when Carla came out of the tasting room and threw her arms around Susan.
“Hold that pose,” the TV reporter said to Carla and Susan. “Lonnie just got here.”
“I’m cool,” the camera man said. “This will be a great shot for your voice-over.”
Molly slammed her hand on the steering wheel and shook her head. “I don’t believe this!” She looked at Emma. “This is...is—”
“Kinda crazy, I’d say. I don’t get it. How could they all of a sudden be friends?”
“I don’t know,” Molly said, “but something stinks and I don’t want any part of it.”
Molly backed the car away, and said, “We’re out of here. Get my cell out of my tote, would you? And call Randall for me?”
Molly had just entered the long drive to the highway when the pickup she’d noticed at the shed earlier drove past her. The same man with the short-brimmed cap was driving. Molly was surprised when he turned his face away from her. At that point, she really didn’t care who he was. She just wanted to put distance between her and Carla.
Molly was onto Carmel Valley Road when Randall answered. Emma said, “Aunt Molly needs to talk to you pronto. The weirdest thing just happened, and ”
Molly said, “Let me tell him.” She took the phone from Emma and without pausing told Randall what they had just witnessed. “You must have a crystal ball or some damn psychic on the payroll! This is so bizarre, it defies description. Yeah, we’re on our way back to the shop now. I wouldn’t stay there for all the merch in China. I’ll tell you the rest when I see you.”
“Whew!” Emma said. “Like, what a goofy family? I’m glad we’re ” She paused, then said, “Well,
almost
not as crazy.” She gave Molly a smile. “At least so far.”
With all the strange developments this morning, Molly couldn’t believe she still was thinking of Emma’s meeting tomorrow with Marshall Macomber. “Uh, might be a good idea not to let Mr. Macomber know about any of this?”
“Duh?”
Molly laughed. “I figured you’d see it that way.”
It was good Molly could find her way home by rote. Her head was spinning from all she had seen and heard this morning. She understood now why Carla had seemed so distracted earlier. If she had a more generous soul, Molly thought, she might even excuse her snarky comment about Molly being a ninny. Carla apparently had been preparing herself for Susan’s visit. It was obvious now why she wanted her out of the tasting room so fast. She wondered how Carla was going to explain that little scene to her. Especially since Carla had been so angry with Molly for not telling her about Susan Jessop. Not that Carla owed her an explanation, but then, Molly figured, it would be interesting to see if she offered one.
BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
11.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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