A sip before dying, p.21
A Sip Before Dying,
p.21
"I, uh, need to go to the kitchen and find a knife to cut the layer cake," Leah said, waving a distracted hand toward the kitchen. I if had to guess, Leah needed to be anywhere that the new wife wasn't.
Feeling guilty as I watched Leah retreat, I decided to make good on my promise and grabbed a glass of Pinot Noir, heading in the Glam Squad's direction with it.
"Traffic was ghastly," Heather was saying to her companions as I approached. "Tourists. Too many in this town."
"Totally," Caroline agreed. "And you look amazing tonight by the way."
"And don't you look lovely, too," Heather replied. Though her smile took on an air of smugness as she scanned Caroline head to toe.
"See," Jennifer said, swatting Caroline on the arm. "I told you that dress would look better on you than me. I mean, you fill it out much better with those hips of yours."
More smirks all around.
But Caroline didn't bat a false eyelash before retorting, "It does require someone who has the right bust for it. I mean, it's not as forgiving as say a blazer."
Jennifer's eyes flashed, though her expression remained neutral. Either she was a practiced politician's wife or had done a round of Botox that afternoon.
I cleared my throat, inserting myself in the middle of the cattiness. "Can I offer you a glass of our 2016 Pinot Noir?" I asked, handing it to Heather.
"Thank you," she said politely, taking the wineglass but not sipping, I noticed.
"Emmy Oak," I said, introducing myself. "My family owns Oak Valley Vineyards."
She sent me a bored smile.
"I, uh, hear you're a wine enthusiast."
"Broker," Heather corrected. "Only rare, collectible bottles." She glanced down into her glass as if already ascertaining that it was not up to collectible standards.
"We have some older bottles in our cellar you might be interested in. Vintage Napa history," I said, trying to tempt her.
"The only vintage she's interested tonight is the old wife," Jennifer joked.
"Jenny!" Heather chided. "That's not nice." But I could see the first genuine smile on her lips as she said it.
Oh boy. While Leah had a few years on my own twenty-nine, I wouldn't put her any older than thirty-five at the most. Hardly "vintage." I glanced over my shoulder, glad to see Leah was still hiding in the kitchen and not within earshot.
"Uh, yes, Leah mentioned you're married to her ex-husband, James," I said, stating the obvious.
"Oh? Leah mentioned me?" Heather asked. The smile grew.
"In passing," I added quickly, trying to somehow save face for my friend. "Is James, uh, here?"
But Heather shook her head. "He had a conflict."
I did a mental sigh of relief on Leah's behalf.
"Besides, this is more of a cute little girls' night event," Caroline chimed in.
I glossed over my efforts being called a "cute little" event and addressed Jennifer instead. "Can I get you a glass of anything?"
Instead of answering, Jennifer turned to Heather, who was still holding her untouched Pinot Noir. "What do you think, Heathy? Should I let her get me a glass of anything?"
Heather looked from Jennifer to me. Then she gave her glass a slow, deliberate sip. She drew out the answer, dabbing her mouth with a cocktail napkin before replying, "It's alright."
Gee, so far I'd had a "not bad" and an "alright" from these ladies. Tough crowd.
Jennifer shrugged. "I supposed I'll have a taste."
"I'll be right back with a glass." I clacked my stilettos back to the table, only too happy to put some distance between me and the Glam Squad. This was going to be one long night.
* * *
The next couple of hours passed in a blur of handshaking, glass filling, and brochure dispersing. The crowd was a good one—ranging from lively couples in cocktails dresses here for the free booze to serious enthusiasts in suits discussing tannin and oakiness, and I even spotted a guy in a cowboy hat, giving the scene some local flavor. While not everyone was as Ice Queen as Caroline and company, they were a discerning crowd, and praise was subdued enough to keep me on my toes. Leah spent most of the evening in the kitchen, only popping out to refill the dessert tables and cut the impressive layer cake. And Ava did a fantastic job of photographing the VIPs while highlighting the food and wine in the shots as well. By the time the guests started taking their leave, most of the bottles I'd brought were emptied, and only a scant few treats were left on the silver trays.
"Looks like a successful evening to me," Ava said, eyeing the quickly emptying room.
"We'll know if bookings start coming in."
"When they start coming in." Ava gave me a wink.
I grinned. "I like the way you think."
"Did Leah avoid the Model Thing okay?" Ava asked.
I nodded. I'd briefly filled her in earlier on the accidental invite situation during a lull in the crowd. "I think so. At least, I didn't see anyone clawing anyone's eyes out, so that's a good sign."
"What restraint," Ava joked.
I laughed along with her, though I realized I hadn't actually seen Leah in awhile. With the guests dispersing, it felt like a good time to check in on her and at least relay some of the praise I'd overheard for her chocolaty creations. "I'm going to go see if she needs any help cleaning up in the kitchen.
Ava nodded. "I'll keep an eye out here in case anyone wants one for the road."
"Thanks," I called, heading toward the kitchen.
As the door swung closed behind me, I took a moment to enjoy the stillness. The sounds of murmured goodbyes, tinkling glasses, and retreating footsteps filtered through the closed door, but the kitchen was blissfully silent. I took a beat to inhale the scents of sugar, cocoa, and crispy burnt edges.
"Leah?" I called. The quiet said I was alone, but she could have been hiding out in the pantry. "Leah!"
I walked passed the ovens, rounding the corner to a small office and noticed that the back door to the alleyway behind the bakery was ajar. I wondered if Leah'd popped out for a moment of fresh air. I knew I could use some.
I made my way to the door, allowing the night air to cool my warm skin as I stepped outside. Even though we were well into summer, after the sun went down, the evenings were still crisp. The dim streetlight at the end of the alleyway created shadows, and I squinted, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"Leah, are you out here?" I asked, a chill creeping across my skin.
The alleyway wasn't huge, but it was big enough for a delivery truck and for Leah to park her car. Across from the doorway was a large dumpster, next to which sat cardboard boxes holding our winery logo, now filled with empty glass bottles. But instead of them being them stacked tidily like I had left them, several were now tilted on their sides, bottles scattered on the ground. I sighed, crossing the alley to pick them up. Broken glass was the last thing Leah needed back here. I picked the first one up and pushed it against the fence.
And that's when I noticed a long slender leg sticking out from behind the dumpster
I sucked in a breath.
"Leah?" I called, my voice sounding far away as my heart hammered in my ears. I took a step forward, peeking around the side of the dumpster. "Leah?" I asked again.
Only the dress coving the top part of the woman's leg was not a tasteful gray linen, but a clinging white silk.
Heather Atherton.
And she wasn't just getting some air. If the cake knife sticking out of her back was any indication, she'd never be getting any air again.
CHOCOLATE COVERED DEATH
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RECIPES
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Gemma Halliday, A Sip Before Dying
