Mary drove almost on autopilot. The children sat in the back, discussing the merits of the puppies they’d held, the other critters offered in Evan’s pet shop and what they could get for the baby for two dollars. Mary barely heard them. Her thoughts were on Cliff. What had he done, and why? John and Glen had been members of St Mark’s for years. Everyone knew them, knew they were a couple. No one cared. At least, Mary didn’t think anyone cared. Evidently, she was wrong. But what could Cliff have done to make them change churches? He wasn’t even a member. Well, not an active member. It must have been something pretty uncomfortable. What that was, Mary silently vowed to find out.
The light changed, she made her left-hand turn and entered the winery parking lot. It was after four, but the lot was still half full. Mary stepped out of the car and waited for the children, who joined her almost immediately. She took each by the hand but didn’t move. Instead, she looked around. She’d heard the winery was impressive but still wasn’t quite prepared for what lay before her. The building sprawled out on top of a knoll, covering most of it. The stucco was painted a pale creamy yellow, the shutters on the long windows were a bright blue and the door leading into the building from the cobblestone courtyard was massive oak, its handles hammered wrought iron. A tiled terrace was to the right of the building, iron tables and chairs scattered over it. The umbrellas were tied down, the tables empty. Why, wasn’t hard to guess. The early winter breeze made sitting outside uncomfortable. Mary let go of the children and pulled her jacket tighter around her, took each child’s hand again and started toward the doors.
Dalia pulled away and stared at the vineyard that trailed down the hill toward the highway. Houses could just be glimpsed between the highway and where the vines ended. ‘Look. There’s Tony’s truck.’ She pointed toward a dirt road that ran between the vines. A group of men piled into the back of a dirty brown pickup. Another group stacked branches at the end of a row of vines. ‘They must be done pruning for the day.’
They watched for a moment as the truck slowly made its way up the hill. It turned off, headed for what looked like an equipment barn about halfway up the slope. It disappeared through blue double doors.
‘Come on.’ Mary tugged at the children. ‘Tony will be up here soon enough. Let’s go find your mother.’
Mary had been in half the wineries in Santa Louisa but she’d never seen one like this. The room they entered was huge and filled with light. The wall that overlooked the terrace held a series of French doors, showcasing the panoramic views of Santa Louisa and the hills beyond. There were brightly striped canvas roll-up canopies on the outside to protect the room, and those who sat on the patio, from the hot summer sun. This afternoon they were pulled up to show the beginnings of what promised to be a beautiful winter sunset.
A large round display table stood just inside the windows, piled with majolica pottery and pewter platters, all in some sort of grape pattern. Books were featured on another, and there was one full of crystal wineglasses. The one closest to the door where Mary stood offered cookbooks. Main courses made with wine, pasta dishes from Tuscany, artisan bread recipes, straight from the grill delights. There was a book for every taste. There was also a goodly display of barbeque tools, baking dishes, kitchen implements and cork pullers. Mary looked at the barbeque skewers and wondered if she should try to talk the children into another choice. She strained to read the price tag and gave a gasp. What they had already purchased would do just fine. She turned as the children tugged her toward a hallway that opened up on the far side of the long and very crowded tasting room bar. People stood against it, resting their feet on the brass rail, making notes in small booklets with stubby pencils as they sipped tiny amounts of wine from long-stemmed glasses. For many folks it would not be a dry Christmas.
‘Mom’s down this way.’
She was being tugged down the hallway toward what looked like offices. She’d seen people tasting wine before. That wasn’t what held her attention, or caused her to drag her feet. It was the cookbooks. She wanted to look at them. Maybe later.
‘Mary.’
Naomi stood in an open doorway of a spacious room that held two large desks, back to back, in the middle. Bookshelves lined the far wall, loaded with bottles of wine, pictures, plaques and long-stemmed glasses. There were a couple of upholstered tub chairs, a credenza and a load of electronic equipment. The Blisses’ office.
‘What are you doing here?’ She looked down the hall past Mary to where cries of ‘Mom’ and soft laughter sounded. ‘Oh. You had the Mendosa children.’
Mary nodded. ‘Glad you’re here. It’ll save me a trip.’
‘A trip?’ Naomi looked blank.
‘Yes. Cliff’s memorial. We talked about it yesterday.’ Mary was beginning to feel tired and faintly irritated. ‘We’ve finished packing all of his things and some of the church people are picking them up to take to St Mark’s. Les has agreed to store them temporarily. Now, we need to decide what we’re going to do about the service.’
‘Nothing.’
‘What?’ Mary wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Nothing? ‘What are you talking about? Les, Reverend McIntyre, asked us to – well, Isabel asked us.’
‘I talked to Bill about this. He thinks, and he’s right – Mary, I can’t do it.’
The words weren’t making any sense. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Come in the office.’ Naomi turned her back on Mary and walked into the room.
Mary glanced down the hall, nervous she hadn’t personally delivered the children to their mother, but another burst of laughter reassured her. They were with Luanne. Mary followed Naomi and sat herself in one of the chairs. ‘Now. What’s all this about?’
Naomi sat behind her desk, a gold pen in her hand. She didn’t look at Mary but stared at a yellow legal pad set squarely in the middle of her desk. ‘I can’t do it. Memorials mean saying nice things about the dead person. Friends gather, console the family and each other and remember things they’d done together, good things.’ She made some marks on the legal pad, drew a figure of what Mary thought might be a dog, then a bottle, then a stick man. Finally she let the pen go slack in her hand and looked up. ‘There aren’t any good memories.’
Mary had no idea what to say. She didn’t need to. Now the difficult words were out, Naomi seemed eager to explain.
‘We’ve only been here about four years. We never saw the Cliff so many of you remember. The kind one, the one who was a good vet. The sober one.’ She picked the pen back up and started rolling it around in her fingers, keeping her eyes resolutely fixed on it. ‘The first time we met Cliff he showed up here, drunk. It was our grand opening. Bill was all for throwing him out, but the mayor was here and a couple of other people who knew him. They got him out before he caused a disturbance. He kept coming back. Sometimes he was sober, sometimes not, but always he came because he wanted to see Merlot, the little poodle who … disappeared. It got to the point where I’d lock the dog in my office when I saw him coming.’ She laid the pen on the paper and looked straight at Mary for the first time. ‘It wasn’t any better after he got sober. He didn’t come as much, but when he did he hung around, not saying anything, just picking up bottles, putting them down, looking for the dog. Mary, he was weird. He wasn’t very good for business, either.’ This last she said with a rueful little laugh well mixed with bitterness. ‘I got to the point where I almost hated him. I hated seeing that old car of his drive into the parking lot.’ She paused again and this time sighed deeply. ‘Bill thought I was overreacting. Maybe I was, but I’ll tell you something …’ She paused again, as if choosing her words carefully. ‘I’ve wondered if Cliff had something to do with Merlot’s disappearance.’
Mary sucked in her breath quickly. ‘Oh. Oh, no. Why would he?’
Naomi shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but he was here that day.’ Her eyes filled with tears. She pulled her desk drawer open, pulled a couple of tissues out of a box Mary couldn’t see and slammed it shut. ‘He was so damn weird about the dog, always telling Bill we should breed him, even. I’ve always wondered, and when I saw that picture yesterday, it all came back. Mary, there is no way I can help put on a memorial for that man. I don’t have even one good memory to share.’ She dabbed both eyes, blinked away any remaining tears, straightened herself and laid her folded hands on the desk. ‘I’m sorry.’
The person Naomi described wasn’t the one Mary knew. Or thought she knew. Why would Cliff act like that? But then, why would he complain to Reverend McIntyre about John and Glen? Why would he give a half-wild cat to Father D’Angelo? The cryptic sentences in his diary – what did they mean? A throbbing started in her temples. ‘I’m sorry, also. Of course you don’t have to do anything. I had no idea – I’ll talk to Les.’ She had a lot to talk about with Les.
‘Oh. I didn’t realize you had someone – hello, Mrs McGill.’
Mary twisted in her chair at the sound of the man’s voice. The sun was almost finished for the day and a shadow obscured the doorway. At first, she didn’t recognize the man who stood there. He walked into the room and she knew him immediately. Bill Bliss. Naomi’s husband. He wasn’t a man you easily forgot. Tall, solidly built, he wore his gray wool slacks, open-necked blue dress shirt and soft navy jacket with an easy confidence. Mary was surprised he remembered her. They had been introduced once at church and had nodded at each other a few times, but she’d always felt it was cursory. Maybe she’d been wrong.
She smiled and nodded. ‘Nice to see you, Bill.’ She would have sworn he blinked at the ‘Bill’ but covered it quickly. Her smile widened.
‘We’re leaving now.’ Dalia skipped into the room and skidded to a stop when she saw Bill Bliss. ‘Oh.’
He turned to look at the child, a frown narrowing his eyebrows. They looked like brown and gray caterpillars.
Dalia looked back, her mouth still forming a small ‘Oh.’
Ronaldo almost ran into her as he entered. ‘Why are you standing— Oh.’ He, too, stared at Bill before he glanced at his sister.
Their eyes met, then they looked at Mary, soundless. Soundless, for them, was not a normal occurrence. The moment didn’t last.
Luanne walked into the room, carrying a briefcase. ‘I’m going now. Oh, Bill. I didn’t know you were back.’ She nodded, but it was Naomi she addressed. She looked tired and didn’t seem to notice as the children backed up to stand close, one on each side of her.
Ronaldo reached for the briefcase. ‘I’ll carry that for you, Mom.’
She squeezed him with her free arm. ‘That’s all right, sweetie. That’s my laptop. I think I’d better hold it, but I forgot my tote bag in my office. Can you carry that?’
Ronaldo beamed and headed out the door. Dalia gave Bill Bliss one more look, ducked out from under her mother’s arm and followed. Mary watched them go. So did Bill.
‘Brenda’s closing out tonight. I’ll make the bank deposit Monday. The payroll’s ready, all except the hourly people, and the inventory is up to date. I’ll go over that with Brenda on Monday. She’s going to be fine.’
Naomi nodded. Bill frowned. Mary heaved a silent sigh of relief. She hadn’t known if Luanne and Tony worked weekends or not. The first committee meeting for St Mark’s spring rummage sale was tomorrow. She wouldn’t mind missing it. She’d attended more than her share. However, try as hard as she might, she’d once again been elected chairman. She needed to show up. ‘What about Monday? Do you want me to pick up the children?’
Luanne glanced at Bill then over at Naomi. ‘Let’s see what happens. Can you drop by the house after church on Sunday? Tony should know his schedule by then. And Mary, thank you.’
Mary smiled and nodded. She was happy she could help but secretly relieved she wouldn’t be needed until Monday. There were things she had to do besides the committee meeting. At some point in the next couple of days she wanted to talk with Les. She wanted to know what to do about Cliff’s memorial. If a lot of others felt the same way Naomi did John and Glen wouldn’t be coming, and she didn’t think Evan would either. What had happened with them? What had Cliff done? Yes, she had to talk to Les. Right now, however, she had to go see Bonnie, and then she was going home. Did she have a bottle of wine in the refrigerator? She couldn’t remember. Well, she was in a winery.
‘I need to go as well. However, I hear your Chardonnay is exceptional. May I buy a bottle?’
Bill Bliss smiled for the first time since he’d come in. ‘You may indeed. Let me get one for you.’ He took her by the arm and they headed toward the tasting room. Mary looked back. Luanne was right behind them, but she turned the other way down the hall.
‘Mary, thank you again. We’ll see you Sunday.’