Free A Tainted Finish: A Sydney McGrath Mystery by Rachael Horn Page B

was a long-standing joke between them about the ubiquitous and thus invisible nature of Latino workers and being completely ignored by the gringos.
    “What were they doing?”
    “They mostly just stood around and pointed at the vineyards. Come to think of it, they didn't really look at the vines. They just stood and pointed out the easements and roads. They didn't walk around much. No one had boots .” He shook his head in derision. “I was too far away to hear them. But Jack was the one leading the conversation.”
    “Jack Bristol?”
    He nodded.
    “Who else was there?”
    “Francois.”
    “Francois Bertrand?”
    He nodded. “And The Feldman guy, the one who almost bought us out. And that little fucking weasel prick, the wine critic.”
    “Joe Donner?”
    He nodded, waiting for her reaction. It dawned on him that the meeting of the jefes must have had little to do with red blotch. He watched as she paced back and forth with her hands on her hips. She paced for a full five minutes.
    “Why on Earth would Jack Bristol, Francois Bertrand, Hans Feldman and Joe Donner be skulking around behind our winery, Alejandro?” she asked softly. “When was this?”
    He thought for a moment. “Sunday, around four,” he said. His eyes grew wide at Syd's furrowed brow. She turned silently and wandered down the path in a trance while Alejandro fought a superstitious tingling at the back of his neck. Clarence was found dead only a few hours later.
    ~
    The sun was sinking fast by the time Syd got back down to the house. She realized she was starving. Charlie was waiting for her on the deck in an Adirondack rocker, cupping a large snifter of caramel-colored liquid. Syd plopped down next to her.
    “Long day?” Syd asked. She took the glass from her and smelled it. She swirled and gulped without further ceremony.
    “Yeah, you could say that,” Charlie replied with uncharacteristic melancholy. She reached over and snatched back the glass.
    Syd reached for her hand. “Thanks, Charlie.”
    Charlie sighed deeply, sipping the scotch tenderly. They sat quietly for a half hour, passing the snifter back and forth. Charlie refilled it twice.
    “All of the arrangements are done,” Charlie broke the silence, startling Syd out of her troubled thoughts.
    Syd nodded.
    “Dad came by with the autopsy report. And some tampons for you,” Charlie delivered in her usual deadpan. Syd smiled at her and chuckled. Charlie caught her eye and smiled back. They surrendered to the crescendo hysterical humor and cackled, bending over and gasping for breath. Charlie fell off her chair and thudded onto the deck.
    Syd toasted to the air. “To Jim Yesler, the father I never had!”
    “Here, here!” Charlie said, threatening to pee her pants.

Chapter 9
    Friday started with a severe headache and a bout of nausea. Syd sat naked in bed with her work clothes balled up on the floor. She had no recollection of going to bed, let alone undressing. The night before had dissolved into a foray of Clarence's liquor cabinet. A tall glass of water sat on the nightstand. She picked it up and drank the entire glass in one go.
    A dry cleaning bag with her Armani suit in it hung on the door. She sat up and tested her body slowly. She wrapped the old quilt from the bed around herself and shuffled out of the room to meet Olivier in the doorway. He held a small glass of fizzy water.
    “This will help,” he said, shoving the glass in her hand. He turned on his heels and left before she could feel embarrassed.
    She crawled back into bed and drank the fizzy water. She slowly tried to piece together the day ahead of her. She would have to meet with Jim Yesler. He had the autopsy report and he wanted to discuss it with her. She had an appointment with the insurance agent in the afternoon, a new guy she had not met before. And she was expecting Marcus late that afternoon. Marcus . She threw herself back on the bed, and burrowed under the sheets.
    Charlie burst in a few minutes