The Villa

edge of the vineyard. Despite the wash of sunlight, her skin chilled.
    She was already running back as she broke the connection. "Ty!"
    Alarmed, he whirled back, caught her on the fly. "What is it? What happened?"
    "They found more. Two more bottles that were tainted."
    "Damn it. Well, we were expecting it. We knew there had to be tampering."
    "There's more. It could be worse. Nonna —she and Eli—" She had to stop, organize her thoughts. "There was an old man, he worked for Nonna's grandfather. Started in the vineyard when he was just a boy. He retired, technically, over a year ago. And late last year he died. He had a bad heart."
    He was already following her, already feeling the dread. "Go on."
    "His granddaughter, the one who found him, says he'd been drinking our Merlot. She came to my grandmother after the news of the recall broke. They're having his body exhumed."
     
    "His name was Bernardo Baptista." Sophia had all the details in neatly typed notes, but she didn't need them. She had every word in her head. "He was seventy-three. He died in December from an apparent heart attack while sitting in front of his own fire after a simple meal and several glasses of Castello di Giambelli Merlot, '92."
    As Margaret Bowers had, David thought grimly. "You said Baptista had a weak heart."
    "He'd had some minor heart problems and was suffering from a lingering head cold at the time of his death. The cold adds another layer. Baptista was known for his nose. He'd worked wine for over sixty years. But as he was ill, it was unlikely he'd have detected any problem with the wine. His granddaughter swears he hadn't opened it before that night. She'd seen it that afternoon when she'd visited him. He kept it, and a few other gifts from the company, on display. He was very proud of his association with Giambelli."
    "The wine had been a gift."
    "According to his granddaughter, yes."
    "From?"
    "She doesn't know. He was given a retirement party, and as is customary, Giambelli presents an employee with parting gifts. I've checked, and that particular wine was not on the gift list. He'd have been presented with a Cabernet, a white and a sparkling. First label. However, it's not uncommon for an employee to be allowed to choose another selection, or to be given wine by other members of the company."
    "How soon will they know if the wine caused his death?" Pilar moved to the desk where Sophia sat, rubbed a hand over her daughter's shoulder.
    "A matter of days."
    "We do what we can to track the wine," David decided. "Meanwhile, we continue as we have been. I'm going to suggest to La Signora and Eli that we hire an outside investigator."
    "I'll work on a statement. It's best if we announce the new finds, and Giambelli's part in implementing the recall and the testing. I don't want to have to chase the release again."
    "Let me know what I can do to help," Pilar told her.
    "Get that guest list together."
    "Honey, you can't possibly want to hold a party now."
    "On the contrary." The worry, the sadness over an old man she remembered with affection hardened into determination. "We'll just twist the angle. We hold a gala here, for charity. We've done it before, and a great deal more for good causes. I want people to remember that. A thousand a plate. All food, wine and entertainment donated by Giambelli-MacMillan, with proceeds going to the homeless."
    She scribbled notes as she spoke, already drafting invitations, releases, responses in her head. "Our family wants to help yours be safe and secure. There are a lot of people who owe La Signora more than a grand for a fancy meal. If they need to be reminded of that, I'll see to it."
    She cocked her head, waiting for David's reaction.
    "You're the expert there," he said after a moment. "It's a shaky line to walk, but in my opinion, you have superior balance."
    "Thanks. Meanwhile, we have to pretend a cool disinterest in the press Rene is generating. There'll be fallout from that, and it'll be personal. What's personal to Giambelli will, naturally, touch on business."
     
    Pilar slid into a discreet chair at a quiet table in the bar at the Four Seasons. She was sure if she'd mentioned her intentions to anyone, she'd have been told she was making a mistake.
    She probably was.
    But this was something she had to do, something she should have done long ago. She ordered a mineral water and prepared to wait. She had no doubt Rene would be late. Just as she'd had no doubt Rene would meet her. She wouldn't