Murder Alfresco #3 by Nadia Gordon Read Free Book Online

to the ginkgo tree by the fence and went inside, shedding clothes on the way to the shower. Passing the phone, she stopped to turn off the ringer.
    The alarm went off at five the next morning, waking her from a dream that was quickly becoming a nightmare. She was having dinner at a restaurant with white tablecloths. For her main dish, the waiter brought a whole, grilled fish. Fork and knife raised, she was just about to cut into it, when the fish looked up at her with one searching, terrified eye.
    She lumbered out of bed, thoroughly possessed by the shock of the dream. In the bathroom, she stood under a hot shower, washing away the weight of the heavy sleep. She ran through the dream again and again, as if the impact of the experience was not enough and her mind needed to reinforce it by repetition, or perhaps the opposite, that the impact was too much and could only be worn away by familiarity, facing it again and again until she could get used to that eye upon her and the knife in her hand.

    The early-morning mix of denim-clad farmers, construction workers, and commuters in suits sat over mugs of coffee at Bismark’s. Everyone seemed to be either reading or talking about the body that had been found at Vedana Vineyards, not ten minutes away. A reverential hush at the uniqueness of the event had fallen over the room, and the patrons lowered their voices to exchange views on the homicide. Sunny carried her latte to a table by the window, happy to be surrounded by daylight and humanity, even if murder was the topic on everyone’s lips. The shock had finally sunk in, and she had felt jittery in the dark of the early morning, with a too-thorough knowledge that a murderer might still be nearby and hunting her face.
    One of the surly, pierced youths working the counter brought over her bagel and orange juice a moment later. Dreams aside, of which she had had several disturbing ones leading up to the eye of the fish, ten hours of sleep had worked its magic and she felt almost coherent again. Now a bite to eat, and maybe the world would go back to the way she liked it.
    She had hardly lifted her cup when Wade Skord appeared beside the table bearing coffee and croissant.
    “Buenos días, amiga!”
he said loudly, turning heads. “You have room for a vagrant winemaker from south of the border?”
    Wade Skord had been back less than a week from Mexico, where he had been sailing the Baja peninsula for the last three months. He’d left his winery in the care of a former employee and taken his dream trip. His lined and weathered face was tanner than usual, and his blue eyes sparkled even more fiercely. He sat down and laid his callused hands on the table like artifacts.
    “How’s life back on the mountain?” said Sunny, delighted to see him.
    “The cat doesn’t recognize me, but the grapes are glad I’m back. Never trust a creature without roots.”
    Wade got up and rummaged through the stack of castoff newspapers in a basket by the door and came back with several sections under his arm. He kept the
Napa Register
and handed Sunny the front page of the
Santa Rosa Press Democrat.
In the upper left was a story about the girl, under the headline GRISLY FIND AT LOCAL WINERY. The accompanying photograph showed the winery and oak tree cordoned off with yellow police tape. Steve, true to his word, had supplied few details. The text said only that an unidentified woman was discovered at Vedana Vineyards late Wednesday night in an apparent homicide. Anyone who had seen or heard anything suspicious in the area was urged to contact the police department right away.
    Sunny folded the paper. “You ever think about living anywhere else?”
    “You mean move? Not me. I’m anchored to the mountain. I may go walkabout now and then, but this scrap of paradise is home. Why? You’re not thinking of moving?”
    “No, I guess not seriously. It’s just this valley starts to feel about as big as a canoe sometimes.”
    Sunny looked at her watch.