Pairing a Deception Page 6

  I looked up at him, but his phone was already out and he was dialing 911. “Alcohol poisoning?” I glanced back at Jocelyn and noticed the dark pool of red at the base of the door. “Dean …”

  He nodded, phone to his ear, his hand on my shoulder, gently pulling me away from the body. He had already seen the blood. “We have an incident here at the Lancaster Hotel.”

  A couple exited the elevator and turned toward us.

  “Stay back,” I said as I motioned to them. “You don’t want to see this.” I had seen a few dead bodies over the past year and I wanted to save other people from the experience. There are things in life that you can’t unsee. Moments that flash into your mind when you least expect them, forcing you to relive the incident over and over again.

  “Is she okay?” asked the woman as she continued to approach, the man’s hand on her back.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Authorities are on the way, but we need to keep this area secure,” added Dean as he ushered them back toward the elevator.

  A maintenance man walked up the stairs that led one floor down to the lobby.

  “Can you let the front desk know that there’s …” I paused as I thought what to say. “A problem up here and the police are on the way?”

  The man just stood there, staring at Jocelyn.

  “Move!” I yelled. “Go tell the front desk. Tell the manager. We have a dead body here on the second floor!” I didn’t mean to yell, but the gravity of the situation was sinking in. Jocelyn just wanted to attend the festival and talk to Hudson. Now she was dead.

  The maintenance man scurried down the stairs, but the couple remained, watching like a pair of hawks. People had a hard time shaking their fascination. It was the same reason drivers slowed down on the freeway to get a glimpse of an accident. They had an urge to look no matter how bad the scene might be.

  “They’ll be here in a few minutes,” said Dean without emotion. He was in full work mode. He turned to the couple in the hallway and stood between them and Jocelyn to block their view. “I want to remind you that you need to clear this area.”

  They didn’t move. The police would lead them away soon enough, but their morbid obsession was hitting a little too close to home. Jocelyn didn’t deserve to have her death on display. I stared at her and she moved her head to the side.

  “Wait,” I said as Jocelyn shifted to the right. “Dean, what’s …” My voice fell away as I realized it was the door opening.

  “Hold up,” I said as the door continued to open. “Stop!” I knew that evidence was being disturbed. Jocelyn slid all the way down, leaving a smear of red on the door. “No!” I looked up to see who had opened the door.

  Standing in the dark room was Master Sommelier Hudson Wiley.

  eight

  pairing suggestion: grauburgunder—pfalz, germany

  A Pinot Gris wine with peach notes and a subtle amount of spice.

  Hudson looked like he had just woken up, his infamous hair pushed up on one side and matted to his head on the other. His eyes grew wide as he stared at us. “What’s going on?”

  “You tell us,” replied Dean.

  Hudson’s eyes drifted down to the body on the floor in front of him. “Is she okay?”

  “No,” I replied. “She’s definitely not okay. The police will be here soon.” I wished it was the first time I had ever said that, but it was almost starting to become routine after the events of the last year.

  Hudson leaned down as he put his hand to his mouth. “What happened?”

  “Don’t touch anything,” said Dean. “In fact, why don’t you step over here.”

  Hudson didn’t move, his attention still focused on Jocelyn.

  “Mr. Wiley,” Dean repeated in a firm voice. “Come over here.”

  He looked up at Dean and then me. “But I’d have to step over her.”

  “I’m sure you can do it.” Dean’s tone and demeanor was just like when we met at Frontier Winery nearly a year ago.

  Hudson followed his directions and joined us in the hallway. “I can’t believe this.” He returned his focus to the body. “Is that really …”

  “Jocelyn Rivers,” I replied. The comment saddened me.

  “Yes, yes, I can see that now.” Hudson rubbed his forehead with his thumb as he stared at her. “I just didn’t recognize her.” He paused. “And she’s really …”

  “Deceased,” replied Dean. “What time did you last see Jocelyn?”

  Hudson shook his head. “I can’t believe she’s …” He motioned with his hand.

  “Mr. Wiley, I need you to focus. What time did you last see Jocelyn Rivers?”

  “Time?” Hudson looked around. “I don’t even know what time it is now.”

  “It’s nine in the morning,” I replied, but neither Dean nor Hudson reacted.

  “Let’s try again,” said Dean. “Do you have any idea what time she left your room?”

  “My room?” Hudson shook his head. “She didn’t come to my room.”

  I expected Dean to get frustrated by Hudson’s lack of answers, but Dean’s calm demeanor remained intact.

  I motioned to the open door. “Is this her room then?”

  “No,” replied Hudson. “It’s mine.” He looked at us, his eyes growing wider. “But she didn’t come here. She didn’t come inside.”

  “Seriously?” I asked. “She wasn’t in your room last night?” I wanted to believe Hudson, but the fact that she was outside his door told otherwise.

  “No. Of course not.”

  My eyes flicked to his wedding ring and back to his face. “If you’re trying to protect someone or guard your reputation—”

  “Honest.” Hudson’s wide-eyed gaze of shock was replaced by a sense of certainty. “She didn’t come in here.”

  “She was still in the bar with you when we left last night,” said Dean.

  “And she was pretty eager to talk to you yesterday,” I added.

  Hudson shook his head. “That’s a long story.”

  “Care to share it?” asked Dean.

  “Not really.”

  “I’m sure the police will want to know.” I stared at Hudson. “A woman was found murdered outside your door. Everything is going to be on the table.”

  Hudson took a long, deep breath. “She wanted to talk to me about a new wine company. She started asking me the minute I met her yesterday, about an hour before the opening ceremonies. Wouldn’t drop it. I told her I wasn’t interested in being a part of it, but she didn’t give up. Then last night in the bar, she was normal again. Nothing about jobs or companies. She was actually cool.”

  “What about when we left you last night?” I asked. “What did you talk about then?”

  “Wine, life, I don’t know. Nothing out of the ordinary. We had a few more drinks and just chatted. That was it.”

  “But you left together?” asked Dean.

  “No,” said Hudson, a clear level of fear in his eyes. “The last time I saw her was in the bar last night.” He rubbed his forehead. “I mean, she may have followed me upstairs. I don’t remember. She kept saying she wanted to take me somewhere.”

  “Your room,” I added.

  “No, it wasn’t here. Somewhere else.”

  “Where?” asked Dean.

  “I don’t know. I’d been drinking,” replied Hudson in an exasperated tone. “This looks bad.”

  “This is bad, Mr. Wiley,” said Dean.

  Hudson looked at the open door, as if he wanted to escape back inside. “All I know is that I entered my room alone and the last time I saw her, she wasn’t like this.”

  As much as I wanted to believe Hudson was innocent, his comments over the last few minutes weren’t helping. “What else can you remember?”

  Hudson glanced up at me. “I don’t know. It’s all too muc
h to take in right now.”

  Dean’s face didn’t change at all. As far as I knew, he thought Hudson was guilty, and a part of me did, too. But there was something about Hudson’s scared expression that made me start to waver.

  “Okay,” I said, deciding it was time to change my approach. If he was innocent, there would have been some noise when she was killed or propped near his door. “Did you hear anything last night or this morning?”

  I noticed Dean shift to look at me, but I kept my focus on Hudson.

  “No, I didn’t hear anything. I slept like the dead,” he said as he continued to rub his forehead. “I do that at these events. All of the talking and the wine, I’m out like a light. I can’t remember anything.”

  “The local authorities will have more questions for you,” said Dean. “They’re only going to get harder.”

  “I know, I know,” replied Hudson. His gaze fell to the floor as he ran his hands through his hair, but the movement was rigid due to the amount of gel that was still there from the night before. He looked at me. “Wait, I did hear something. There was a noise. It woke me up.”

  “What was it? Can you describe it?” I asked.

  “Someone knocked at my door.”

  I nodded, waiting for more.

  “But that was it.” Hudson shrugged. “I didn’t get out of bed to check who it was. It woke me up and I decided to ignore it. They went away, so I figured someone had the wrong room.” He stared at Jocelyn’s lifeless body on the floor. “It must have been her. If I had answered it, maybe she’d still be alive.”

  The elevator door opened and two uniformed police officers exited.

  “Finally,” said Dean as he headed to meet them.

  “What time was the knock? Could it have been housekeeping?” I asked.

  “No.” Hudson shook his head. “Not unless they clean rooms in the nighttime. It was still dark outside. I didn’t close the blinds last night.”

  “Try to remember everything you can. They’ll want details.” I motioned to the officers, certain they were the first of many about to descend on the hotel.

  Hudson shifted away from Jocelyn. “I hope they don’t want to talk too long. I wish this hadn’t happened, I really do, but the first seminar is at ten and I need to be there.”

  The statement shocked me and I nearly stepped back, but I kept my focus on Hudson. “Someone is dead. The seminar should be the last thing on your mind.”

  Hudson looked at me. “The festival is my reason for being here this weekend. It’s the reason for everyone being here.”

  I motioned to Jocelyn. “Wasn’t that her reason for being here, too? Surely you want to help find who did this.”

  “I do, it’s just this whole thing has me rattled. And why outside my door? Because I talked to her last night?” He shook his head. “I should have stayed at the New Sierra.”

  “It might have happened there, too,” I added.

  Dean and the officers walked toward us.

  “Think I can get a drink before they talk to me? I need something to calm my nerves.”

  I realized it was the first time I had seen him without a wineglass. The officers arrived at the open door where Hudson and I stood near the body. “That would be a no.”

  nine

  pairing suggestion: viognier—central coast, california

  Due to the citrus notes, this white wine may come across slightly sweet, but it is actually dry.

  After I had answered a few questions on how I found the body, I stepped outside the hotel to get some fresh air. It was almost ten o’clock, the past hour nearly a blur. My lungs were tight and my hands shook, but there were no vineyards in sight. The organized rows of vines often calmed me and helped me breathe again, but there would be none of that today.

  Festival attendees crossed the parking lot toward the New Sierra, either oblivious to the police activity at the hotel or ignoring it, their lanyards swaying around their necks. I was jealous of their blissful ignorance.

  Dean left the hotel and walked toward me with efficiency and purpose, as if he was at a crime scene. Which, he actually was. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure, I mean, people are just dying, what’s wrong with that.” I glanced at Dean. “I’m kidding. The whole thing is terrible.” I shook my head.

  His stoic face showed signs of weakening. “I don’t like that these things happen when you’re around.”

  “Me neither, but I’ll be okay.” I took four long deep breaths, but they didn’t make me feel any better. “These things happen when you’re around, too.”

  “It’s part of my job.”

  I nodded. It was starting to almost become routine to me. “You left the scene? Are they almost done in there?”

  Dean glanced back at the hotel. “It’s not my jurisdiction, so I’m not involved and I wanted to check on you. They’re taking photos, talking to Hudson, and getting ready to move the victim.”

  “Jocelyn. Her name is Jocelyn.”

  “I know. I was trying to soften it for you.” Dean shifted next to me. “I’m sorry I booked us into this hotel. If I had chosen the other one, the main one, this wouldn’t—”

  “I still would have heard about it and I still would have known it was Jocelyn.” I looked into his blue eyes. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just feel bad for her. She was sweet. And Hudson—”

  “Hudson is in a tight spot,” Dean interrupted. “It will be interesting to see how the situation evolves.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  “I’m not sure.” Dean focused on two guests as they walked past us. “It’s fortunate for the festival that this isn’t the main hotel.”

  I stared at the attendees on the far side of the lawn as they entered the New Sierra. “I wonder if any of them know.”

  “I doubt it. People are innately curious. If they knew, they would be over here, trying to get a glimpse of what’s going on.”

  “True, but still, I’m surprised they haven’t come over, considering there’s cop cars out here.”

  Dean shrugged. “Maybe they just want to get to the lectures.”

  “Priorities.”

  “Ms. Stillwell, there you are.”

  I turned around to see Mr. Tinsley. He looked slightly disheveled, his glasses were cocked to the side, and he was out of breath. “I’m so glad to find you. Mr. Wiley is, well, he’s preoccupied at the moment.”

  I nodded. “We were upstairs when … It doesn’t matter. But yes, he’ll probably be a while.”

  “Herein lies my problem, Ms. Stillwell. There’s a seminar about to start.” He looked at his watch. “In fact, it should be starting right now.”

  I didn’t reply, unsure of what Mr. Tinsley was trying to say. Was he making sure we attended? He continued to stare at me, waiting for something, but I wasn’t sure what.

  “Well,” he continued. “What do you think? Can you do it?”

  “Do you mean, are we going to the seminar?” I glanced at Dean. After we discovered Jocelyn, the idea of attending festival events had fallen by the wayside.

  “No,” said Mr. Tinsley. “Can you lead it? Mr. Wiley was supposed to, but he can’t right now, and I need someone up there who knows what they’re talking about. You’re knowledgeable and experienced.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I shifted my feet and looked around the parking lot. “I’m sure there’s more experienced people than me here. I’m not the only sommelier at the festival.” Why did I say things like that? I knew I should add a different comment but I stayed silent.

  Mr. Tinsley adjusted his glasses. “Mr. Wiley spoke very highly of you and I need a sommelier up there to lead the seminar. I can’t have this festival go down the proverbial toilet. Not on my watch.” He stared at me. “So what do you think, Ms. Stillwell? Are you up for the job?”

  Lead a seminar? Thi
s would be something new and out of my comfort zone. I generally didn’t like being in front of large groups, but I also didn’t want the festival to fall apart. It wasn’t Mr. Tinsley’s fault that Jocelyn was murdered. “Yes,” I replied. “I can do it.”

  “Great, let’s get to it.” Mr. Tinsley turned on his heels and walked at a brisk pace across the lawn to the New Sierra.

  I glanced at Dean. “I’ll see you afterward?”

  “Katie, I’m coming with you.”

  “Even with this?” I motioned to the cop cars.

  “I’m on vacation and you’re my number-one priority.” Dean was actually willing to step away from a police investigation for me. The realization was touching, but I didn’t have time to process it. Mr. Tinsley was halfway across the lawn.

  “I’ve never led a seminar before,” I whispered to Dean as we tried to catch up. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “You’ve attended lots of these, right? Just go for it. You know wine. You know what you’re talking about. Besides, they’re going to love you.”

  “What if I start to panic up there?” My lungs were already tight in my chest and my heart rate was accelerating.

  “Take a breath and keep going. I’ve seen you handle yourself in stressful situations. You’ve confronted killers and called out counterfeiters in large crowds of wine enthusiasts. You can lead a seminar.”

  I nodded. I just hoped Dean was right.

  We entered the hotel, Mr. Tinsley barely holding open the door, and then followed right behind him as he sped into the ballroom. It was already full.

  “I’ll see you after, good luck. You’ve got this,” said Dean as he stopped at one of the rows to find a seat.

  Mr. Tinsley marched up to the stage and I took a deep breath before climbing the three steps to join him. I looked out at the crowd. There were at least two hundred people in the ballroom, all of them ready to learn about wine. And I was the one to teach them. I swallowed hard and put on my game face, the calm demeanor I wore at work to hide my emotions.

  “Good morning. Sorry for the delay,” said Mr. Tinsley. “It’s not how I run this festival and it won’t happen again. I know you were expecting to see Mr. Wiley for this seminar, but he was called away on business and hopes to rejoin us later today. In the meantime, we’ll get started. Your host for this seminar is sommelier Katie Stillwell.”