Ellen Crosby - The Riesling Retribution

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “This is who we have. It’s them or nobody.”

“I told you yesterday what we should have done,” he said. “Savannah said she’d be here in an hour, so that’s one more person. But I bet we have to sort what these guys pick. Then we’re going to have to go back out there and pick anything they missed. What a goddamn mess.”

I rubbed my temples. “I hope we can pull this off before it rains.”

He glared at me. “The good news is that, since we finally decided to make ice wine, we’re not picking everything. Maybe we’ll make more than we planned if these rubes leave a lot of fruit on the vines.”

“Maybe,” I said.

But later in the day as we began sorting the grapes, it began to look like the ice wine project was in jeopardy, too. Quinn set up a sorting table and both of us, along with Benny, Javier, and Tyler, began checking the grapes before putting them in the destemmer.

We worked for about ten minutes and it grew quieter and quieter.

“I don’t believe this,” Quinn said finally. “They picked everything. Unripe, ripe, overripe. We’re screwed. There’ll be nothing left to pick in the fall.”

“Maybe it’s only this batch,” I said. “Let’s keep going.”

But it wasn’t just one batch.

We worked outside through the afternoon as the sky grew darker and then the rains began. Benny and Javier moved everything under the overhang so we could keep going. Quinn had already started to press the first batch of grapes. We were barely speaking and I knew if he got his hands on Chance, who had driven the crew back to their camp, this time he’d kill him.

I saw Chance before Quinn did. Frankie called me when she was ready to lock up the villa for the evening and asked if I could drop by. Things had been awkward between us all day. I hoped she hadn’t decided to quit.

When I walked in she had two wineglasses set out.

“We need to talk,” she said. “Red or white?”

“Either.”

She gave me the choose-one look.

“How about white?” I said.

She poured from an opened bottle of Riesling.

“Brandi called me,” she said. “She wanted me to know she had nothing to do with those purchases. Says she’s pretty sure Eli must have done it because he’s so distraught at losing her. She thinks he thought maybe he could win her back that way.”

We touched glasses.

“Eli says he didn’t do it,” I said. “I know he’s my brother, but I believe him before I believe her.”

“She sounded pretty believable herself.”

We drank in silence. Frankie seemed to have made up her mind. I couldn’t blame her for believing Brandi. Either way, though, it was an ugly situation involving theft, fraud, and deceit. Tough to put a good spin on that and find anything to salvage.

“I’d like to reimburse you,” I said.

Frankie shook her head. “For what? The transaction was canceled. I wanted to tell you that I plan to put this behind me.”

I had no doubt she meant it, especially because she was watching me with her usual clear-eyed candor, waiting for me to accept her offer of a truce. But I still felt shamed, like a parent called into the principal’s office after some altercation involving a child had been dealt with and cleared up. Punishment and forgiveness had been dispensed, but what was lost—at least to me—were honor and integrity. There would be whispers and doubts the next time something like this happened, and Eli would always be a suspect.

“I’m still so embarrassed—”

She held up her hand. “Forget it. They’re both under a lot of strain. I don’t want this to come between us, Lucie. I have so much respect and admiration for you and what you’ve done to turn this vineyard around. You can’t take the weight of everyone else’s problems on your shoulders. Not even your own family.”

“First, Leland. Now Eli. I feel rotten.”

She squeezed my arm. “I know you do. That’s why you need to promise me we’re going to move past this.”

“I can’t have Eli working here anymore, can I?” I drained my glass.

“I wouldn’t put him in a situation where he’s handling money right now,” she said. “Would you?”

“No.”

That was the quid pro quo she wanted and, as usual, she had finessed her request. We couldn’t afford another scandal. She was willing to sweep this one under the carpet. But next time…?

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll handle it. I’ll tell Eli we don’t need him helping here anymore. He’s not stupid. He’ll get the message.”

We finished our wine.

“Want another glass?” Frankie asked.

“I’d better not. I need to get back to the barrel room. I think we’re going to be here all night with the Riesling. I don’t know where Chance dug up that crew we had today, but they picked everything. Quinn wants him gone, too.”

“I heard,” she said. “Look, go on back. I’ll close up.”

I stood as Frankie began turning off lights. She paused to look out one of the windows.

“Speak of the devil. Chance is just getting out of the pickup.”

“Oh, God,” I said. “I need to get to him before Quinn does.”

We met just inside the courtyard archway. Bruja, who had been following her master, wagged her tail and came to me so I could pet her.

“I ran the crew back to the camp,” he said. “You guys done with getting the Riesling in the tanks already?”

“We haven’t even started,” I said. “Because we have to sort the grapes by hand. All of them.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

The rain had temporarily let up but the air still felt heavy and damp. I watched Chance and wondered if Quinn was right that he was completely incompetent. How could he not know what he’d done?

“Your crew picked everything, Chance. The only thing that could have been worse would be sawing off the vines and dragging those back, too. It’s like they’d never worked as pickers before. Of anything. Where’d you get them, anyway?”

“Same place I always get them. The camp in Winchester.”

“Where’d you really get them?”

“I told you. The camp in Winchester. Look, remember what I said before?” he asked. “Quinn works those men like dogs. If anyone complains he threatens to sic Homeland Security on them. Word gets around, Lucie. You’re lucky I got who I got.”

“I’ve never seen Quinn act like that.”

“You’re not out in the field every day. How would you know?”

“How come my other manager never told me about it?”

“I didn’t know your other manager, but maybe he closed his eyes. Or maybe he didn’t think of day laborers as anything other than one step up from a chain gang.”

“That’s not true!”

“What did you say about a chain gang?”

Quinn’s voice, behind me. I turned around. It was just the two of them and me. Quinn moved closer until he was standing about a foot away from Chance. I was not going to be able to stop this fight.

“I’m handling this, Quinn,” I said. “Let me settle it.”

“Tell this asshole to clear out. He’s through here.”

“Who’re you telling to leave, buddy? You don’t run the place.”

“I said, clear out.”

“That’s enough,” I said. “Quinn, don’t—”

Chance smirked. “Seems the boss doesn’t agree with you, Quinn. Go on, Lucie. You’re not going to let him bully you like he bullies everyone else—”

Quinn cut him off with a hard blow to his stomach. Chance doubled over and groaned.

“Stop it!” I said. “Quinn! Are you out of your mind? Don’t do this.”

“Get out of here,” he said to Chance. “You’re through.”

He turned his back on Chance and started to walk away. Chance raised his head, a look of cold fury on his face, and charged after him. I heard Quinn’s “ouf” as Chance tackled him and the sound of Quinn’s head hitting the ground. He looked dazed, as though the blow had knocked the wind out of him.