Page 43 of Murder in the Lighthouse

But Birk and Jade were already into their characters, pretending not to notice them as they walked by in a hurry and headed through the front gates.

Brogan and Lucien watched as a sleekly dressed woman met them with her hand held out, her smile too broad to be genuine. “Welcome to Noir Hills Estates. I’m Maryann, the assistant manager. I believe I spoke with you earlier. I’ve been instructed to give you the grand tour personally.”

“That’s wonderful, but we had hoped to chat with the owner while we’re here and pass along a personal recommendation to our subscribers,” Birk replied.

“Oh, the owner’s here. He’ll be in his office for the rest of the day. I’ll see if he can spare you five minutes before you leave. Are you familiar with our wine? At Noir Hills Estates, we pride ourselves on creating the best California Pinot Noir. We think it’s the best on the market at forty-five dollars a bottle.”

They eavesdropped over the next few minutes as Maryann took the cash from Jade before handing them the standard brochure and giving the couple a top-of-the-line sales pitch. When they started tagging along behind them, Maryann abruptly turned to face Lucien. “Where are you going?”

“We’re here for the tour and the wine tasting,” Lucien replied.

“Did you sign up in advance? Because we don’t take walk-in tastings.”

Brogan cleared her throat. “We didn’t call and make reservations but signed up on your website. We filled out the form you provided.”

“Ah. That’s for the wine tasting only, then. They’ll collect your money at the gift shop.”

“And where is the gift shop?” Lucien asked.

“It’s in the main building. Follow the pathway as it curves to the right. You can’t miss the villa.”

Summarily dismissed, Brogan watched Maryann turn and continue walking until she was joined by another member of the staff, who welcomed Birk and Jade like royalty, leading them on a tour of the grounds first and explaining their eco-friendly initiatives.

“They’re not exactly a welcoming lot, are they?” Lucien cracked as he watched Birk and Jade disappear around the bend. “So much for getting to know cold, snobby wine enthusiasts.”

“And we thought German winemaking and their Rieslings were difficult to describe,” Brogan wisecracked.

They walked past rows of grapevines heavy with plump fruit. “Why are the grapes still on the vine? Look at all the ripe grapes. Isn’t that strange? You have to admit, though, this place is gorgeous. ”

“So was Hitler’s Bavarian retreat,” Lucien quipped, noting every detail about the buildings as they veered off the path from the main house and went in search of the warehouse where the barrels were stored. “More workers will be around that area where they bottle than elsewhere on the grounds except for maybe tending the vines. Somehow, I don’t see Shepherd sending his older brother out to labor in the fields.”

“Someone needs to.”

They passed the science lab, a sterile offshoot where wine was tested and analyzed. “This is a first-rate outfit,” Lucien murmured before Brogan elbowed him in the ribs. He bobbed his head toward two men moving barrels from storage toward the bottling line.

“Keith Shepherd, a.k.a. Felix Ward,” Brogan whooshed out. “I recognize the photo Birk gave us.”

Their prime suspect stood supervising the other workers. Something about his demeanor set off alarm bells. For one, he looked much older than his fifty-nine years. When he moved, he walked with an exaggerated limp. To prove it was fake, Brogan refused to budge from her spot. She kept watching until his limp became noticeable on the opposite leg. She nudged Lucien. “I told you that limp wasn’t real,” she cautioned.

Lucien put his finger up to his lips. “Shhh. There’s someone coming.”

The footsteps on the pavement grew closer until they realized it was Kenneth. Using his brother’s alias, he waved “Felix” over to where he stood.

They watched as the two men discussed a shipment of wine heading overseas. The brothers acted jovial, even cheerful toward each other, laughing and talking about an upcoming larger shipment to Russia.

Lucien nudged Brogan behind the testing lab, a more discreet location, where she took out her phone and started snapping photos.

While their counterparts surveilled Keith, Birk and Jade were held captive by one of the wine experts droning on about their commitment to greening the wine industry. The winery’s contribution to the environment consisted of reusing stormwater collected in ponds for irrigation, utilizing solar panels to reduce their dependence on the electrical grid, andinstalling more efficient equipment to reduce their demand during peak times.

Growing bored with the lecture, Birk glanced around surreptitiously, noting the locations of security cameras and potential blind spots. The more he observed, the more convinced he became that something sinister lurked beneath the surface of this picturesque vineyard.

After what felt like an eternity, the tour finally concluded, and Maryann reappeared. Birk and Jade were ushered toward the main building for the wine tasting. Hoping to bump into Lucien and Brogan, they noticed Maryann leading them toward a majestic Tuscan villa, its stucco walls covered in ivy and loaded with rustic charm. Their hostess bypassed the gift shop, opening the double doors to a hospitality center, a brightly lit space with lofty ceilings, a skylight, and a curved bar with seating for twelve.

Birk and Jade were handed glasses of the deep red Pinot Noir. They sipped slowly, beginning to feel out of place among the clientele who nibbled fancy cheese from a charcuterie board while others sipped their wine from velvet couches.

“I think I recognize that guy over there as our state senator,” Jade quipped. “And I’m pretty sure one of those women he’s with is not his wife.”

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Birk whispered. “Let’s make a break for it.”

---