The Vintner's Thanksgiving Chapter 2 We Gather Together

"My dear, what do we tell the guests?"

"It's simple Kate. We tell them nothing."

"Robert, that's wrong."

"No, it isn't. There is nothing to tell, yet."

"They're going to notice the sirens and flashers."

"Yes, you're right about that." Ironside took out his phone again and dialed. "Tom. Bob Ironside here. You've been told. Fine. I need a favor. It's the Vintner's Thanks…what? Yes, you can use the east entrance. I'm going to have enough of a three-ring circus here tonight without you all around. Can you control the media presence just for tonight? Plainclothes presence at our entrance. Well, yes, it is invitation only. Excellent. I owe you Tom. Good night". He looked up at his wife. "Tom Martinez was well ahead of me. He knows what's happening tonight and he'll make sure they make as little noise as possible. The last thing he wants to do is scare Sonoma County's major source of income and tourism. He'll have plainclothes at the gate to check the invitations and discourage the press from being party crashers. I promised I'd talk to them tomorrow. His crew will come in the east gate, silently, no lights, no ambulances, and unmarked vehicles only."

"Robert, you think the killer is still here, don't you?"

"I don't know Kate. He could be. It's better to put up as much protection as we can."

"You have that look about you."

"What look?" Her husband smiled.

"I know where you'd rather be tonight, and tomorrow."

"You're right about that Kate. Right now, I'd like to know who our victim is and maybe why someone killed him on our land." He took a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. "I need you to roll our friend over, my love. Careful where you step."

Kate grimaced. "And if I don't want to?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead, she knelt down and rolled the body over, wincing as she saw the close-range wounds. "Do you recognize him, my dear?"

"No, I don't. Take the pen and see if there's anything in his pockets that could identify him."

Kate took the proffered pen and gently pulled the flap pockets open. Without being prompted, she checked the inside coat pockets as well.

"Do you feel anything like a wallet? A card case? Papers?"

"No Robert, there's nothing here."

"Check his pants."

Kate did so, rolling the body back over into its original position so she could check the rear pockets. "There's nothing there either Robert."

"Someone doesn't want us to know who our man is." Ironside turned his face toward the gate and the approaching car. "Tom is going to have his work cut out for him on this one."

By the time the Ironside's returned to their house, there were already people milling about the tables, glasses of wine in their hands, some holding small plates of Greta Saunders hors d'œuvres, all talking about a variety of things. Robert and Kate were approached by Jamie Roberts, their winery manager.

"Where have you two been?" He hissed.

"Jamie, bring us a glass of wine, would you, and one for yourself too. We'll meet you at the far end of the patio." The Chief pushed himself energetically towards the spot, Kate following him.

When Jamie joined them, he brought three glasses and a bottle of Russian Valley Meritage. "Thought we could try something new, and Chief, Mark told me about this trick years ago. With him, you used coffee, with me, it's 'come let's have a glass of wine, talk'. Eventually, you'll have a job for me to do. What is going on?"

Ironside explained the situation, giving Jamie enough information so he could help deflect nosy partygoers, in case anyone became too curious.

"Chief, murder on your property and a killer on the loose."

"Don't say anything to anyone about this. I'm letting the sheriff control the investigation."

"For now."

"There's no 'for now', Jamie. It's his job."

"Until tomorrow."

The Chief scowled.

"Tomorrow, your dinner guests happen to be the Denver Police Chief, the Associate Chief Justice of the California Superior Court, a former Captain of the San Francisco Police, and a former patrolwoman, all arriving just in time to play Clue with their ex-boss in exchange for what? Greta's world famous turkey, seafood stuffing, and Pappy Van Winkle bourbon pecan pie?"

"You forgot, the Executive Assistant to the Denver Police Chief will be here tomorrow as well." Kate added.

"And I'm not putting them to work."

"Colonel Mustard in the vineyard with the .38. Who could resist that as an amuse bouche?"

Ironside shook his head. "Jamie, you've got an overactive imagination."

"Nope. I know you too well. You love solving cases, especially when they're someone else's." He paused and gestured. "Uh oh, it's time to mingle, you two, the place is filling up, and here comes Jimmy Brindensteel, vintner to the stars. You're on your own boss." Laughing, Jamie left them to greet people.

"Robert, Katherine. I'm so glad to see you." Jimmy shook hands with the Chief and air kissed Katherine on both sides of her face. He was a glossy, breezy young man in his early thirties. Everything about him screamed success. "Fabulous party. Fabulous. I'm going to have to work to top it next year. Hot air balloon rides, perhaps, and maybe I can steal Greta away? Her ceviche is to die for."

"You'll have to ask Greta. Though I think that after this, she won't want to do anything on such a grand scale for a long time. Where is your wife tonight? I was so looking forward to seeing her."

"She sends her regrets Katherine. She's with clients in LA tonight." Jimmy's tone though light, indicated that his wife's no-show was a source of frustration to him. He turned to Ironside."Chief, if I can call you that"

"Most people still do, Mr. Brindensteel."

"Oh, please, call me Jimmy. Whilst out walking tonight, I saw a lot of lights and cars in the east field, where your Cabernet Franc is growing. What's happening?"

"Tom Martinez called. He wanted to provide a bit of protection for everyone here and wanted a command post away from the crowd. I agreed."

"How sad, I was hoping for true crime, and it's all about keeping the paparazzi at bay."

"I'm afraid so Jimmy." Ironside took a long swallow of his wine. It was good. Maybe he should buy a case of it for his cellar. "There are many guests here tonight that would prefer not to have camera flash in their eyes and just enjoy themselves."

"Speaking of that, I'm sure you're one who would like to enjoy themselves as well."

"Yes, I would."

Jimmy Brindensteel walked away with a pout on his face. Damn Katherine for bringing up Randee. He was sure she was 'entertaining' a favorite client in Los Angeles. According to the private investigator, he was Stan Roscommon, a hedge fund manager from San Diego. He met Randee at the Beverly Hills Hotel. They had a meeting, Randee made the sale, then they celebrated with a bottle of Tough Nickel Syrah. That had been followed by dinner in the Polo Lounge and multiple drinks by the pool. When Randee spilled her drink on her dress, Stan invited her back to his bungalow to clean up. She didn't reappear until the next morning. His wife was a major reason for Tough Nickel's success as well as for it bleeding financial red each month. Her ability to make the sale added to the black of their financial ledgers. Her addiction to the finer things made her a favored customer along Rodeo Drive. That addiction to couture fashion along with her need to live at the same level as her rich clientele and problems at the vineyard gave truth to the winery's name.

"Jimmy" there was a touch on his sleeve. "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

He looked into the face of his vintner, Harley Algren.

"Hey, Harley I-I didn't recognize you."

"And you can say it. I clean up well."

"You do."

"Glass of wine?"

"Certainly. I think they're required tonight."

"Red or white?"

"Surprise me."

Jimmy walked over to the red wine table and poured two glasses. He tried to look as casual as possible. "Paparazzi my ass" he muttered. "What a lame excuse he'd been given. He'd heard stories about Ironside and his former life as a cop. Former life, he reminded himself. Ironside had no authority here. He shouldn't have dumped the body at Chateau Ironside. That was stupid, but the body would give a false narrative. His next move would be far more cautious. He wasn't going to get caught. Tough Nickel would survive, as would he. He drank the wine quickly, pouring himself another glass. He would outfox this old man.