Murder Alfresco #3 by Nadia Gordon

Author:Nadia Gordon [Gordon, Nadia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Published: 2005-06-03T07:00:00+00:00

They had just enough time to drive home, shower, and change before dinner. Wade dropped off Rivka first.

“Don’t forget you still have to be Rachael Robinson tonight,” said Sunny.

“I know,” scowled Rivka. “My feet are killing me.”

Wade drove to Sunny’s house, where he kicked off his shoes and took possession of the couch. Sunny showered, then sat in front of her laptop in her bathrobe and searched the web for anything about Dean Blodger. Nothing.

17

Pea gravel crunched underfoot as they made their way through the French garden toward the music and party sounds at Niebaum-Coppola. The winery doors were flung open and women in cocktail dresses spilled into the courtyard like bright flowers. Sunny and Rivka stepped gingerly in their heels. Wade stopped a server with a tray of sparkling wine and commandeered three glasses. “Ladies,” he said, handing them around. Another server came by with spiced tuna tartare with sesame on rice crisps. Wade popped one in his mouth and picked up another. “Nice setup,” he said between bites, surveying the scene. “Remind me to crash parties here more often.”

Sunny selected a crisp and the server moved on. “Ten bucks says the next tray is goat cheese with tapanade.”

“Worse. It’s mini quiches,” said Rivka.

“I hope you two are not going to pick everything apart. It ruins it for those of us who truly appreciate free food.”

“I’m not picking, I am merely registering concern. Fusion confusion leads to spoiled appetites, not to mention flatulence,” said Sunny.

“You’re right. I think it’s happening already,” said Wade.

“Please.”

“You brought it up.” Wade tapped his glass against hers, then Rivka’s. “Remember, you’re not food snobs tonight, you’re here to make me look like the guy with the well-endowed wallet.”

They mingled, introducing themselves to the other guests and mining them for useless details about where they lived, what they did for a living, and how they came to be sipping bubbly with the Ferrari people. Those they met worked for the big corporate sponsors, for various Ferrari and Maserati dealerships, or for corporate headquarters in Maranello. A group from a big telecommunications company were drinking martinis fast and getting rowdy, including a chorus line of young female executives in formal gowns who were linked arm in arm and beginning to break into song. “Volare” was quickly becoming the theme song of the night. Sunny watched for Ové and Daniela. She followed Wade and Rivka as they circulated through the winery’s gift shop, then made their way upstairs, sampling squash blossoms with queso ranchero, endive with blue cheese and candied walnuts, and skewers of chicken breast with Thai dipping sauce from the silver trays along the way.

“Thailand, France, Mexico. I’m so confused. We’re going to make it all the way around the globe before we sit down to dinner,” said Sunny, watching a tray of oysters on the half shell go by.

“What’s your problem?” said Wade, reaching for one. He knocked it back and deposited the shell on the next waiter’s tray.

“I just don’t understand what’s wrong with a sense of unity.

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