Blood on the Vine by JC Simmons

Author:JC Simmons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thrillers, mysteries, mysteries and thrillers, mysteries and detectives, thrillers and mysteries murder mystery
Publisher: JC Simmons

CHAPTER NINE

Awaking tired, muscles aching, I looked at my watch, it glowed 6:00 a.m. A long, hot, stinging, shower loosened the sore muscles. Age has a way of slowing the body down whether we like it or not.

It was almost eight o’clock before I called Ada. She had already talked with Paul and Dorothy. They were ready and waiting, and would meet me at the car.

Suggesting an itinerary, I said, “We’ll drive down to Napa for breakfast, then travel up through the valley. We can time it so as to arrive at the Novellone Winery shortly before noon.

Over a third cup of coffee I asked Dorothy if they had rested comfortably.

“Why yes, Mr. Leicester. We went to bed as soon as we got to the room. Both of us were tired. We slept well, and were not disturbed.”

“Oh, Dorothy,” Paul spoke up. “The phone rang around eleven, don’t you remember? It was a wrong number.”

“Yes, I forgot. I went right back to sleep.”

Ada looked at me quizzically. This was not the time to push it. Fred could have been mistaken, but it was something I would keep in the back of my mind.

The St. Helena Highway splits the valley perfectly in half. It is a pleasant drive through the small communities of Yountville, Oakville, Rutherford, St. Helena and, at the north end, lies Calistoga. The Novellone Winery was south of there, on the west side of the highway. We could stop by on the chance the Rossano family might be there. Returning via the Silverado Trail on the eastern side of the valley would give them a good look at most of the wineries and vineyards in the entire area.

Driving north, we passed some of the more famous wineries, others, not so well known, and who do not have giant public relation firms, or the money to hire them, were dotted along the way. All were striving to make good wine.

The promised rain by the mare’s-tails had not made it to the valley. Today the sky was clear and everything looked fresh. White trunks of eucalyptus trees stood majestic and proud beside the vineyards, sentinels against any and all.

Passing through the town of Yountville, I pointed out the Far Niente Winery, whose owner has done great things for wine in California. Beaulieu Vineyard, with their world famous George de Latour Private Reserve appeared off our right. Winery after winery, each striving for the best their soil, climate, grapes, and cellar masters can make. Finally, on our left, a small sign read simply: Novellone Winery.

Pulling the car over to the side of the road, opposite from the ungated entrance, we looked at the mountains almost two miles away to the west. In between were the vineyards, a hinterland of the finest grape vines in America. As far as one could see there were row upon row, acre upon acre, of neat, immaculately kept vines. No sprig of grass, no loose rocks, no dead canes lying in the rows, simply perfection.

A winding

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