He didn’t say what exactly his son had to get out of his system, though, and I had the feeling he wasn’t going to tell us. He placed both hands flat on his desk, plastered a smile on his face and pushed himself into a standing position. “Now if there’s nothing else…”
CHAPTER 22
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The Kosinski Winery might be located right next to the Stewart Winery, but that didn’t mean we could simply pop over. It took us about half an hour to get to the main entrance to the winery owned by Ian’s much-despised neighbor, and when we got there it took a while before we were allowed to enter through the gate. Only when Chase showed his badge did it finally swing open enough for the cop to pass through in his squad car.
“They’re not so keen on visitors in this place,” said Odelia’s husband as he navigated the drive up to the main house. We passed spreading fields of grapevine, which offered an impressive sight I have to say. Now I’m not a grape connoisseur, per se, but I can appreciate how some people are.
“I wonder how they taste,” said Dooley.
“Bitter, I’ll bet,” I said.
“No, sweet,” said Odelia. “Grapes are very sweet, with just a touch of bitterness.”
“So many grapes,” said Dooley. “Who’s going to eat them all?”
“They turn them into wine,” said Odelia. “Basically they first crush and then press them, squeezing out the juice, to which yeast is then added, to start the fermentation process. The sugar in the grapes turns into alcohol, and eventually the wine is bottled. Some of the best wines in the country are made here.”
“Odd,” I said. “How humans like to drink wine so much.” I once had a lick of the stuff, and have to say I didn’t care for the taste at all. Very bitter, I thought.
When we finally arrived at the house, which had been built in the hacienda style, Odelia suddenly called out,“Look, it’s Kevin’s car!”
And indeed it was. The same red Ferrari we’d seen pulling out of the Stewart driveway now stood parked in the Kosinski driveway. Odd, that.
“Could be the same type of car,” said Chase. “I’ll bet red Ferraris are popular.”
“No, I think it’s the same one,” said Odelia as Chase parked right next to the expensive sports car. “So what is Kevin doing here?” Then a thought must have occurred to her, for she added, “Let’s hope he’s not out for revenge!”
Chase directed a look of concern at his wife, and instantly got out of the car and hurried up to the house. And just as he got there, the door opened and a man strode out. He was sporting dark sunglasses and rocking a ponytail, and was dressed in faded jeans and a black leather jacket. He looked more like a rock star than a vintner.
“Did a young man arrive here just now?” asked Chase, gripping the man’s outstretched hand and giving it a quick shake. “Kevin Stewart? Only that’s his car over there and we have reason to believe he may wish you harm, sir. You are Beniamino Kosinski?”
“That’s right,” said the winery owner. “But you can call me Ben. And as far as Kevin is concerned, I wouldn’t worry too much about him if I were you. He’s in and out of this place all the time, and has never caused us any trouble yet.”
“He’s a regular visitor?” asked Chase.
“That’s right. Does that surprise you?”
“Well, his parents seem to think—”
“That I’m the devil in disguise?” The man laughed a hearty laugh. “Still up to his old tricks, is he, Ian? Well, I can promise you I’m not as bad as he makes me out to be. So what can I do for you, Detective Kingsley? I have to say I was surprised when they told me you suddenly showed up here out of the blue. But I’m always willing to help the police with their inquiries, so let’s have it, shall we?”
He took us into the house, then out the back onto the patio, where the humans took a seat in wicker chairs around a small table where a couple of wine bottles stood on display.
“Yours?” asked Chase as he picked up one of the bottles.
“Yep. Finest wine in the county. Though Ian might disagree.”
“Do you also happen to know Ian’s son-in-law, Mr. Kosinski?”
“Ben, please. Yeah, of course. Jeff. Though I’ve never had the pleasure of actually making his personal acquaintance. But I know of him, absolutely.”
“So you never actually met Jeff? Face to face, I mean?”
“Nope. But then the Stewarts and the Kosinskis don’t exactly socialize. We keep ourselves to ourselves, and they do the same, and that’s the way it’s been for as long as I can remember. We did send Steph a present for the wedding and she sent us a very sweet note back, thanking us for our kindness. She’s a good kid, Steph. Kevin, too.” He frowned and shifted in his seat. “But what’s all this about? Did something happen with Steph’s husband that I should know about?”
“You haven’t heard?” asked Chase. “Jeff was murdered this afternoon, along with one other person.”
“Christ,” said the vintner, looking instantly distraught. “What happened?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. But Ian tells us that you might be—”
“Involved in that young man’s death? God—has he completely lost his mind?”