Aged for malice, p.18
Aged for Malice, page 18
“I have to drop off a table at a customer’s house. Can I give you a ride home first?” Danilo said.
“I’ll also walk. It’ll give me a chance to clear my head,” Olivia said.
“Well, then, I will see you later,” Danilo promised, giving her a fond kiss goodbye.
Olivia trailed dispiritedly out of the village. She was racking her brains for something nice to make for dinner. She didn’t feel like cooking, but also didn’t want to eat out because her budget for the month was blown. Blown! And it was her birthday in a few more days. How was she going to celebrate?
As she turned onto the quiet, winding back road that led to her farm, she found herself wishing she could have been born on the first of the month, after payday, instead of mid-month, when everyone was broke.
The uphill walk gave her a chance to reflect on the case. As she plodded along, she pondered over the weird truth that though a killer had been brought to justice, she still felt as if nothing was fully resolved.
When she neared her gateway, she was horrified to see an unfamiliar Fiat parked outside the farmhouse. Its engine was idling and it must have just arrived.
“No!” Olivia hissed. Surely not? She was all out of patience with uninvited guests on her land. Who was here now, and what did they want? Marching toward the Fiat, she wished that either Danilo or Charlotte was with her. Without backup, she’d have to handle this all on her own.
Then the Fiat’s door opened and Olivia goggled in astonishment as she saw the occupant.
This was now officially the weirdest day of her life, ever!
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
“Hello again, angel,” Mrs. Glass trilled, climbing out of the back of the cab and patting her already tidy hair.
“Mom. What happened?” Scenarios flooded Olivia’s mind. “Did you not manage to change your flight? Was it delayed?”
She couldn’t think of any other reason for her mother to be standing expectantly by the cab’s trunk while the driver got out and unloaded her valises.
“Oh, no, sweetheart. None of the above.”
Olivia saw that Erba was peeking curiously around the farmhouse. She looked pleased to see Mrs. Glass arrive back.
With a resigned expression, the driver picked up the heavier case and headed for the front door. Before her mother could make any ill-advised comments on her goat’s advancing pregnancy, Olivia grabbed the lighter one and hustled along behind them, rummaging in her purse for a tip for him.
She unlocked the door, tipped the driver, and then followed her mother inside.
“Look at the time. It’s almost five o’clock,” Mrs. Glass commented, glancing at Olivia’s kitchen clock. “It’s lovely and warm in here, isn’t it?” Removing her smart red jacket, she hung it on the back of the kitchen chair.
Olivia guessed her mother was going to suggest coffee, but yet again she defied predictions.
“I think we need a nice glass of wine!” she announced.
“Wine? Um, absolutely. There’s a chenin blanc in the fridge.”
Relieved that this was one of the fruitiest and least dry of her available stash, Olivia quickly poured them each a glass.
“Cheers!” Mrs. Glass announced, taking a large sip. “What an excellent wine!”
Olivia collapsed onto the chair opposite. Now her mother was saying nice things about a local wine? What was going on?
“You might be wondering why I came back,” Mrs. Glass then said.
For a moment, Olivia felt like screaming in hysterical laughter, but she was worried that if she started, she might not be able to stop. Fighting for control and a vaguely normal-sounding response, she said, “Yes, I have been wondering ever since I saw you.”
“I started feeling as if I’d made a very bad decision after I left. It was quite a lengthy trip to the airport, as there were road works, so it gave me a long time to think. I started having second thoughts about what I’d said and done, and decided I should ask Andrew’s advice before I actually boarded the plane. You know what a tower of strength your father is! I was sure he’d tell me I was being silly, and should go ahead and come home. When I got to the airport I called him, and to my surprise, he felt differently and had quite a lot to say.”
Olivia was also surprised. Her father usually didn’t have anything to say. She guessed he’d figured out years ago that silence was the safest response.
“I was shocked that he became critical of my decision to leave. He didn’t support it at all, and in fact spoke against it! He said I’d made a huge mistake. I started feeling terrible about my hasty actions,” Mrs. Glass said faintly.
“I see,” Olivia said. She wasn’t sure what else would be appropriate.
“Andrew said I needed to stop being emotional and think of things from your perspective. I told him I’d always done that but he said I was wrong and hadn’t.”
“My goodness,” Olivia said. Those really were harsh words from her father.
“It made me rethink my behavior and angel, I had to face up to the truth. I have been acting through selfish motives. I’ve never been able to imagine you living in Italy, so far away. I guess my vision has always been for you to live in the very same neighborhood as your parents, or at least a short drive from us. I’ve always been sure that would happen, once you’d made your name in the advertising agency and built a reputation for yourself. It has been very difficult for me to come to terms with the fact you don’t want that, and in fact what you want is to do something very different from what I ever imagined, in a place I’d never believed you would end up. No wonder I resisted the idea!”
Her mother sniffed, rummaging in her purse for a Kleenex. Was she crying? She certainly seemed overcome with emotion.
Olivia suddenly felt her eyes water as well. Her mother could be super-annoying, and irritatingly stubborn, but it had not been from any other motive than love for her daughter and an inability to let go.
“I’ve realized I must embrace your independence. My wonderful, strong-willed daughter! That’s what Andrew said. He said between the two of us, we had enough stubbornness to break the planet apart, and one of us had to make a compromise because he didn’t want to end up floating in outer space. He said it was unfair for you to have to do it, with your life and dreams ahead of you, and that I had to. Well, it was quite an epiphany.”
It must have been. Her mother’s glass was already more than half empty.
“I’m so glad you came back,” Olivia said, trying her best to hold back a sudden sob. “I was devastated when you left.”
“And I had such a lovely outing with your wonderful boyfriend. He explained to me that he allows people who know him well to call him by his nickname, Danilo, and invited me to do so. I think it was after seeing the Leaning Tower that I suddenly lost hope you would return to the States, and it made me angry and sad. But I’m happy now,” she said, brightening.
“I’m so glad, Mom,” Olivia said, squeezing her mother’s hand.
“After all, Andrew mentioned that we haven’t traveled nearly enough. And now we have a wonderful home base in Tuscany! He said he’d put some plans together for the next few years. So you’ll be seeing a lot more of us, very soon. Tuscany will become our second home,” Mrs. Glass said, seeming thrilled by the new life journey she’d be embarking on.
“That’s wonderful, Mom.” Olivia felt warmed by happiness. It would be fun having her parents here more often, especially if they weren’t trying to get her to come back to the States. She guessed it would be a chance to re-forge her relationship with her mom.
“And now, angel, is there anything I can do to help you out of your predicament? After all, there’s still a murder unsolved, isn’t there? Or have I missed something?”
“I think it’s all solved,” Olivia said, even though as she spoke, she felt a twinge of guilty doubt. Then she thought about the tricky circumstances surrounding it.
“Actually, there is something you can do. Something very important. If you could write a testimonial explaining how and why I bought the farm, it would be hugely helpful and might just save the day, and my cellar!”
“I’ll do that with pleasure, angel,” Mrs. Glass enthused, draining her wine eagerly.
Olivia felt a sense of deep contentment that her mother was back home and that all the problems with her seemed to be resolved. Except for one! As she thought of it, Olivia decided to address this burning issue first thing tomorrow.
*
The next morning, Olivia headed to La Leggenda, feeling optimistic that the second day of Collina Wine Week would be a huge success. She got there twenty minutes early, but that wasn’t so that she could spend extra time getting ready. Olivia had other plans.
She marched determinedly past the winery buildings and headed straight to the goat dairy. Erba skipped alongside, delighted that her adopted parent was walking her the whole way to her daycare center.
As she walked, Olivia realized that the upcoming conversation was likely to be difficult. She hadn’t had many dealings with the dairy manager, who was responsible for maintaining the herd as well as the production of the top quality goat’s cheese that La Leggenda manufactured.
She’d ‘sort of’ adopted Erba after the goat had taken a liking to her. She had told the dairy manager the first time Erba had followed her home. He’d simply laughed, said she was their naughtiest goat, and told Olivia to bring her back the next day.
Since then, Erba had stayed with Olivia every night. Without really asking permission, she’d taken over the part-time custody of a member of La Leggenda’s carefully curated dairy herd.
Now she’d have to explain herself. Her stomach wrenched at the thought of saying goodbye to Erba, but if Erba was on her way to becoming a productive adult member of the herd, she would need to stay at the winery overnight.
Ahead was the high-roofed dairy building, with the herd of goats dotted artfully nearby. As Erba frolicked away to join her friends, Olivia paused at the dairy door and then headed inside.
Beyond a set of doors and up a short staircase was the cheese making facility where the goat milk was transformed into the tasty end product.
She swung open the door and stepped inside.
Wearing a protective overall and a plastic hat, the smiling manager hurried over.
“Olivia! Buongiorno. Would you like to taste our latest Capra cheese? We have just perfected a delicious new flavor, with capers and sundried tomatoes.”
Olivia was relieved that he addressed her in English. Even though her Italian was progressing every day, she’d rather have this difficult conversation in a familiar language.
“I’d love to taste.” Eagerly she accepted the cracker he handed her, topped with a heaped teaspoon of the fragrant cheese.
“It’s sublime,” she complimented him. “The cheese is deliciously creamy, and the capers provide such a piquant contrast. And the sundried tomatoes add a gorgeous layer of flavor.”
“I am pleased you like it,” he smiled, and then looked at her inquiringly as if guessing she had not come all the way to the dairy on the off-chance there would be a new cheese to try.
“I wanted to speak to you about Erba,” Olivia began, and found herself reddening even as anxiety clenched her stomach.
“Our naughtiest youngster,” he agreed with a rueful shake of her head.
“I – I – well, my mother noticed she was looking fatter than usual. And so, I came to ask if she should start staying overnight at the dairy now.”
Her heart sank as she spoke the terrible truth. She waited, with her head bowed, for the hammer-blow of the manager’s words to fall.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
To Olivia’s surprise, the dairy manager frowned inquiringly, as if he didn’t understand where this conversation was going. Taking another breath, she battled on, shamefaced over this difficult discussion and filled with dread over her goat’s future.
“I mean, she’ll need to be milked soon, as she is probably pregnant now,” she concluded.
“Pregnant?” To Olivia’s astonishment, the manager let out a hearty laugh. “No, no, no. Erba is not pregnant. She is too young, as yet, to be allowed to run with the bucks – but in any case, we only do that in the fall. The rest of the year the two bucks in our herd are kept separate, so we can control the breeding cycle.”
“I see,” Olivia said, relief washing over her.
“Puppy fat,” the manager teased with a grin. “Your goat is just fat. We have already decided not to run her with the bucks in the future, though. She is likely to remain a very small animal, and her mother, who is also small, is a low milk yielder. So we do not want to breed her. She can remain your pet, yes? She plays a more important role by entertaining the tourists with her antics during the day.”
“Oh, thank you!” Olivia felt giddy with relief at this amazing outcome.
Erba was just going through an adolescent puppy-fat stage, and better still, she hadn’t been selected as a breeding animal. That meant she could be Olivia’s goat forever!
Feeling as if she were floating on a happy cloud, Olivia left the goat dairy and hurried back to the winery.
Walking through the main entrance, she was pleased to see Marcello was in the tasting room. They’d brought extra tables in from the restaurant and clearly he was expecting a very busy day.
“Olivia. A suspect has been arrested, I hear? This is excellent news.”
He strode over to her and hugged her hard.
“I’m so relieved. I feel sorry for the killer though. It’s awful that somebody from our village did such a thing. I don’t feel he was fairly treated by life,” Olivia admitted.
Marcello nodded. “I heard that he was a previous victim of fraud at the conman’s hands. Even so, a few of my friends who knew him well have said that they cannot believe such a gentle and restrained person would do such a thing.”
“Really?” Olivia said. Thanks to those words, she was feeling even more conflicted about what had played out.
“I spoke to his mother, who said that they cannot even argue that he acted in self-defense, as the police said that from the wound, and the position the body fell, the conman was hit on the top of the head, and the killer must have been standing behind him. That would not indicate a defensive blow by someone about to run away.”
“Oh, dear. That’s a pity,” Olivia said, wishing that Bardo had chosen another course of action, rather than snapping and attacking a man whose back was turned.
“His mother says despite the evidence, he is claiming innocence,” Marcello continued.
“Bardo did say that Heberto, or rather Henri, was alive when he saw him, and sounded very convinced of it,” Olivia admitted uneasily. There was no other solution, was there? There was literally nobody else in the village who could have done such a thing. Logic and evidence pointed toward this unfortunate man.
“If only we could warn people that their decisions will be unwise. Often, I have wished I could do so. But sometimes the only way is to learn for yourself, painful as it is.” Marcello nodded, looking sad.
Olivia sighed. “It’s not over yet. I still have to prove that I didn’t know about the cellar when I bought the land. But at least it’s on the right path now. Marcello, I’m so grateful for your help. I’ll never forget how we interviewed the suspect together, right here in the tasting room!”
Marcello stared at Olivia with a warm expression in his eyes. “Olivia, there are many things that have occurred between us that I will never forget. You have always been extremely special to me, and always will be.”
“And you likewise,” Olivia mumbled, feeling her face burn crimson just as she’d known it would do.
Marcello let out a sudden laugh. “It was funny in the tasting room! When Raul began shouting and screaming his voice was so loud I thought plaster might fall from the ceiling. I fear that even though he will drink our free wine, he will never buy any from us in the future.”
Olivia snorted. “You’ll have to bring out a new label that doesn’t say La Leggenda.”
As she spoke, she felt the wheels start turning in her mind. Something Marcello had said had triggered a thought process, and the idea she’d almost been able to grasp the day before now flitted back into her mind, clearer and more tangible this time.
But at that moment, the first big group of locals arrived and Olivia pushed the thought aside, turning to welcome them with a warm smile.
*
At five p.m. Olivia closed up, feeling happy that she’d had such a productive day. Everyone who’d arrived for Collina Wine Week had been especially friendly to her, as if the locals had collectively resolved to apologize for suspecting her and for their behavior after the cellar was discovered. A few people had asked her if the wine was safe, but they’d done so in a concerned way. Walking up to the goat dairy, she felt hugely relieved that the storm had passed over and that life could now return to calmness – or close to it at any rate. She hoped the police would soon call to say that Bardo had confessed and the case was closed.
“Hello, Erba,” she said, grinning with delight at her chunky, teenage goat who would be hers, forever. How lucky was she to have Erba’s fun, entertaining presence in her life without any responsibilities to the goat dairy?
Olivia wasn’t sure if she wanted a herd of goats in her winery. After all, Erba on her own was quite a responsibility. Perhaps it would be better to focus just on the wine, she decided. There were many other places making cheese, and she was sure they were doing it better than she ever could.
Then her thoughts returned to the idea she’d had earlier and she puzzled over it. As she walked along the familiar route home, the pieces clicked together in her mind.
The dust on the bottles. The stones that had cascaded down when they’d first walked into the cellar. The way the body had fallen and Marcello’s joke about Raul shouting. Bardo’s fervent protests that he was innocent.
