same person who killed him and beat Marissa up?”
“Henry was the only one we know for sure they were blackmailing, and thankfully for him, he has an alibi for Marissa’s attack.”
“But Marissa also said she thought Fairfield was blackmailing other people too.”
Drew leaned against the truck. “Who else would Whit Fairfield have been blackmailing? Who would he have leverage over?” Drew drummed his fingers on the side of the truck, then looked over at Toni. “Didn’t you say there’d been some sabotage over at Nico’s winery?”
Toni nodded. “Yeah. Henry said there was stuff missing. A tank got turned off. There was the tractor thing.”
“Well then,” Drew said. “It sounds like I need to take a trip up the hill.”
Chapter 24
When they got to the winery, Nico was shouting at a crew sorting and loading grapes into the de-stemmer and crusher. There were three men in long sleeves tossing grapes in and throwing others into bins on a raised trailer that had been pulled up to the back of the tank house.
“You know,” Drew said, “I like wine, but I had no idea how complicated it was before I moved here.”
“It’s a lot of manual labor,” she said. “Unlike a lot of crops, everything still has to be picked by hand and sorted by hand. There’s only so much you can automate.”
“What are they doing there?” Drew pointed to the men Nico was yelling at.
“I think those are cabernet grapes.” She nodded at the large white bins of harvested fruit. “Which means they’re making red wine. So right now they’re sorting the grapes, and then they’re going to go through the wash and into the crusher.”
“No stomping feet?”
“Sadly, that part is automated now.”
Drew pointed at the long metal machines that jutted out from the back of the building. “So the crusher takes the juice out?”
“Nope. It takes the stems off and then it literally crushes them. All the skins and seeds and pulp and everything are going to go right in those giant tanks inside. The yeast is going to be added and then it’s all going to ferment together. That’s why someone messing with the temperature controls is a big deal.”
“How long do they ferment?”
“Depends on the grape variety and what Henry wants. See Henry” —she pointed to her boyfriend, who was talking with Danny by the doors of the tank house— “Henry is the one who actually makes the wine. Nico grows the grapes and sells the finished product, but Henry is the one who decides how long things are going to ferment, decides how long before the must—that’s the mixture with the juice and the skins and the seeds and everything—when all that is going to be pressed. And then he tastes all the new wine—which is really not as tasty as it sounds—and he has to imagine how everything is going to age, which wines will blend together well. All that stuff.”
Henry and Danny finished their conversation. Then Henry tossed Danny some keys, and the younger man walked off toward Henry’s truck.
“Lot of moving parts,” Toni said. “Lots of people.”
Drew nodded. “This is actually really helpful. So over at Fairfield’s place, does Ruben do all that winemaking stuff?”
“No. Ruben is like Nico. He grows the grapes and oversees the vineyards. I think Fairfield hired a fancy winemaker from up north and then another person to sell and market the wine. I’ve never met any of those people. Henry might have.”
Nico spotted Toni and waved. Toni pointed toward Nico’s office, and he gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up sign and held up five fingers.
“Five minutes?” Toni asked.
“Works for me.”
Drew and Toni started toward Nico’s office.
“So” —Drew kept his voice low— “does your cousin know you’re pregnant?”
Toni froze. She turned to Drew with wide eyes. “How did you—?”
“Father of two.” He pointed to himself. “You’re not drinking. Taking things easier, according to the guys at your garage. More mood swings than normal.” He leaned back. “Plus there’s just this…”
“If you say I have a fucking glow, I will punch your face.”
Drew’s face split with a grin. “I was going to say you’re a little fuller around your cheeks.”
“You saying my face is fat?”
“Yeah. That’s definitely what I’m going to tell the scary pregnant woman. That her face is fat. Do I look like an idiot?”
“Fuck you, Detective Bisset.”
“I’m going to put that aggression down to hormones. So Henry, huh?”
“What about him?” She crossed her arms over her chest, only to realize that her boobs were both swollen and staging a