Read Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery Online

Authors: Elaine Flinn

Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery (3 page)

BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
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“I’m not paying for a long-distance call.”
Anxious to get them out of the way, Molly said, “Of course not. I wouldn’t think of it.”
“Well, sure she wouldn’t,” the second woman said to her friend. “She’s gonna make money on the deal, so what’s a telephone call?”
It was hard, but Molly gave them both a smile. Anything to get them out. Closing the door behind them, she turned the deadbolt and prayed they hadn’t heard too much. When she returned, she saw Randall casually leaning against the staircase staring at Jessop, who stood defiantly with his arms crossed. Carla was at Molly’s desk. The portfolio Molly had spent hours preparing was in her hands. “Is this what you put together for me?” Carla asked.
With both men dangerously silent, Molly merely nodded. Her faith in Randall’s ability to handle almost any situation gave her some relief, but she was still worried Jessop wasn’t going to leave quietly. “Maybe you’d like to take it home. Look, I’m here anytime, okay?”
Todd Jessop turned and stared at Molly. Those green eyes that Molly swore were not his true color seemed to shoot right through her. It was all she could do not to shudder. Without a word, he gave his wife an even more withering look, then left.
Molly waited until he was out the door. “I mean that, Carla. Day or night...just call me.”
Carla Jessop lifted her chin defiantly. “Thanks, Molly. But don’t worry. He won’t get away with this. I’m Italian, remember?”
Chapter 2
 
THEIR SHORT WALK to Daria’s for dinner was unusually subdued. Molly was lost in her own sense of déjà vu. The bruise on Carla’s face brought back memories of her own nasty tussle when her marriage ended. Her bruises and fractured ribs had healed quickly, but the memories lingered on. Randall, too, was unusually quiet. Thankfully, Emma didn’t seem to notice and chattered about school.
By the time they reached the restaurant and headed for the private back room, Molly had managed to shake off her melancholy. Daria DeMarco was setting the table as they entered, and when her warm smile did little to chase away the expression on Randall’s tightly set face, she said, “Okay, what’s the problem? Too many cats up in trees today? No, that was yesterday, right? Maybe an unruly tourist?”
Randall took off his sport coat and blew Daria a kiss. “Cute, Ms. DeMarco. Very cute.”
Molly shook her head. “Todd Jessop showed up. That tell you something?”
“I think Mrs. Jessop should just divorce that macho jerk. Michelle wouldn’t mind at all,” Emma said.
Shocked, Molly said, “Emma! What made you even say that?”
“I heard everything. I was at the top of the stairs. Anyway, it’s true. He’s mean and talks terrible to Mrs. Jessop all the time. Michelle told me he’s a bully, too.”
Molly sighed. “I don’t want you to tell Michelle what happened, Emma. I’m sorry you heard it, but it’s best not to worry her, okay?” Molly gave Randall a look. “Right?”
“Right. Just between us, okay, Emma?”
“You should have arrested him,” Emma said.
Daria set down the last dish with a bang. “What the hell happened?”
Randall ignored her and told Emma, “It was Mrs. Jessop’s call.”
“But I heard you tell him he was manhandling her!”
“A figure of speech. He got the message. That’s what’s important.”
“Will someone please tell me what happened?” Daria asked.
Molly jerked her head towards the door. “Can I help you bring dinner in?”
Daria nodded. “Good idea.”
Molly filled Daria in as they picked up two trays with salads and French bread. “That Todd Jessop is a real piece of work,” Daria said. “I don’t know why Carla is still with him.”
Back inside the room, Molly helped Daria set out the food, then said, “I just realized you only set four places. Where’s Dan tonight? And Loomis?”
“Loomis,” Randall said, “is in San Jose meeting up with an old fishing buddy. He’ll be back later in the week. Our intrepid district attorney, Daniel Lucero, is in Sacramento hobnobbing with his political buddies to drum up support for a few new laws.”
“It’s like part of the family is missing,” Emma said. “Maybe sometime I could ask Michelle to join us? She told me that you and her mother used to be school friends.”
Daria grinned. “That was centuries ago. Carla and I were laughing about old times last week when she came in for lunch. You can ask Michelle anytime.”
Halfway through her salad, Emma said, “Michelle told me her real father died in a helicopter accident and her grandfather can’t stand her mother’s new husband.”
Molly almost choked on a tomato. “You shouldn’t be repeating things like that.”
“Well it’s true. I mean, Michelle told me it was. And she said her grandfather on her father’s side blames her grandfather on her mother’s side for it, and that it wasn’t an accident, and—”
“Whoa. Stop right there,” Molly said.
Randall looked at Daria. “What’s all this? Something here I should know?”
Daria passed the bottle of wine to him, then waved him off. “Gossip. That’s all it is. Typical Italian male gossip. Testino Giordano has been blaming Domenico Mattucci, Carla’s father, for years. The old man sees conspiracies in every corner. You’d never know he’s second generation. He acts like he’s back in the old country with
vendetta
a daily slice of life.” Passing the platter of eggplant parmigiana, she added, “Since you’re a half-breed, you know the type.”
Randall grinned. He always got a kick out of Daria referring to his half-Italian heritage that way. “Seriously, what are the accusations and why?”
Molly was all ears. It was bad enough to have to be around Todd Jessop, but now to hear there might be a real-life family feud going on was more than she’d bargained for. “Uh, maybe I should forget doing the tasting room?” she joked.
“Don’t worry, Molly,” Daria said. “Testino Giordano wouldn’t step on Mattucci land for all the grapes in the world. But then, that’s what started the feud. Well, mostly, anyway. It was all hugs and kisses in the beginning when Carla and Tony Giordano got married. With a joining of two of the biggest ranches in Monterey County, a dynasty was in the works. But then, after ten years or so, Tony got—” Daria paused when she saw Emma was all ears and wide-eyed behind her Harry Potter glasses. They’d all become accustomed to Emma’s seeming maturity. Sometimes they forgot her true age and that some topics of conversation needed to be edited. “Uh, when Tony got adventurous, things started to unravel.”
“Adventurous? Did he go on dangerous hunting trips, or something?” Emma asked.
Randall covered a grin. “Yeah, that’s probably what Daria means.”
“The veal is delicious, Daria,” Molly said.
Emma laughed. “Okay, I get it. Change the subject. The kid’s in the room.”
Molly gave Daria a warning look and said, “I’ve got a lead on a few antique corkscrews for Carla, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should just forget them and the whole thing.” She reached for her wine and sighed. “I’d really love to do this job, but if it’s going to be a daily diet of butting heads with Todd Jessop, I’d just as soon bow out now.”
“We don’t really need the job, do we, Aunt Molly? The shop is doing great now and with Bitsy paying my school tuition, we can get by okay, can’t we?”
“We’re fine, honey. It’s just that doing the tasting room could help me start branching out.”
“I don’t think Jessop is going to give you much heat after tonight,” Randall said. “Let’s not forget that he doesn’t have any stake in Bello Lago. It’s her family operation, not his.”
“Yeah? Tell
him
that,” Daria said. “Reggie Sullivan, Bello Lago’s marketing director, and Dino Horne, their master winemaker, were here for lunch last week and they gave me an earful. Todd is wreaking havoc all over the place. Dino is ready to punch him out next time he interferes with his crew. And Reggie said Todd’s badgering him to back his ideas of redesigning the bottle labels. He wants them to ditch the established style of elegant script and romantic vineyards-under-the-Tuscan-sun thing and switch to the new trend of offbeat labels with scantily dressed women and abstract animals. He thinks it will attract a younger crowd of buyers.”
Helping himself to a large serving of
pasta con pesto,
Randall said, “Sounds like he wants to attract the football-and-beer crowd with those ideas.”
“Reggie also told me Jessop was snubbed by the Napa Sonoma clique and is determined to show them up with his cutting-edge expertise,” Daria added.
“Well, that sure goes along with the stark, minimalist look he wants for the tasting room,” Molly said. “That may be cool for computers but not for wine. But why does he get away with all this? Because he’s family?”
Daria shook her head. “No. And he’s hardly considered a member in good standing. Carla’s father, Domenico, was furious when she married him. The bad blood there is explosive.”
“What happened up north?” Randall asked.
“He tried to buy his way into one of the wineries up there. Lost out on a bid to take over the DeFalco vineyards. Word is, three or four of the St. Helena guys formed a syndicate and outbid him.”
“Why?” Molly asked. “I mean, why should they care?”
“He’s an ass, that’s why,” Daria said. “Besides being an arrogant jerk, he’s a bigot to boot. When you tell people that California wines are made by men who are two steps away from being illiterate peasants, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know his mindset.”
Molly wondered how on earth Carla Jessop could stand the man. Passing the grated cheese to Emma, Molly was startled to hear her cell phone ring. She reached into her large tote under the table and finally fished it out after the fourth ring.
“Molly? Todd Jessop here. I, ah, owe you an apology. I was out of line. You’ve really done a super job. I hope there’s no hard feelings. Your portfolio looks great, and I won’t butt in again.”
Molly’s eyebrows shot up. She waved her hand for quiet, and said, “That’s very gracious of you, Todd. Apology accepted. No hard feelings. That’s wonderful. I’m glad you’ve decided to go along with Carla’s plans.”
“I’d like to make amends,” Todd said, “and I need your help. I assume you’re familiar with Blue Moon Auction house in Maine?”
“Yes. In fact, I have their new catalog. Isn’t the next auction in a few days?”
“It’s Monday, and that’s another reason for my call. I’m going to be out of town and I’d like you to bid on a few items for me. Well, not for me. For Carla. It’s a surprise. I think they would work with the look you two are after. I realize this is last-minute, and I could do the bidding myself, but I’m afraid I might get carried away.”
Still in semi-shock from Jessop’s apology, Molly said, “I’d be happy to help, but I’m out for dinner now. Can I call you when I get home?”
“Perfect. Don’t worry about the time. I’ll be up late.”
Mollγ closed her cell and set it on the table. “I need more wine after that.”
Randall filled Molly’s glass. He winked at Emma. “Okay, share. Isn’t that the operative word these days?”
“You’re goofy sometimes, Chief,” Emma said laughing.
“Dish
is more
au courant.”
Molly relayed the content of Todd Jessop’s call, then said, “I don’t know what he has in mind until I call him, but I’m not sure this is a good idea. I’m not crazy about blind bidding on merch I haven’t examined. Photographs hide too many secrets. With furniture, you can’t see patina fading, heat blisters, repairs, evidence of infestation, or if the piece is a ‘marriage.’ Or simply a damn good reproduction.” Molly took a sip of her wine, then added, “And not to forget, a total refinish job, which makes a piece worth much, much less.”
“Sounds like a ‘Let’s make up, I’m sorry I smacked you’ gift, ” Randall said.
“Expensive way to say ‘I’m sorry.’ Blue Moon offers only high-priced stuff. Unique items not easily found, and mostly imported from Europe. Thus, the name: ‘We only offer items you’ll find once in a blue moon.’ ”
“Catchy name. Never heard of them,” Randall said.
“They’re fairly new and competing with Red Baron in Atlanta,” Molly explained.
“Oh, I love Red Baron’s catalogues,” Emma said. “Really cool stuff.” She threw her arms wide. “Huge stained glass windows from old churches and big tiered fountains you’d find at a palace. They even have bronze doors and fancy showcases from old jewelry stores.” Giving Randall a mischievous glance, she added, “They have trains sometimes, too.”
“I’ve got all the trains I need, thank you,” Randall said.
“Boys never have enough of their toys,” Daria said with a laugh as she began clearing the table.
Randall watched Molly help Daria, then asked, “So, what are you going to do?”
“Call him, as I promised. A lot is going to depend on what he’s interested in. I’m going to make it clear, though, that I can’t guarantee condition. If I’m lucky, I might not be able to sign up as a telephone bidder this late.”
BOOK: Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery
4.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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