Deadly Vintage: A Molly Doyle Mystery by Elaine Flinn Page A

must have been an incredibly handsome man in his day, Molly thought as she shook his hand. As he was confined to a wheelchair, his height was difficult to guess, but his thick white hair and pale blue eyes still commanded attention. Molly remembered Carla saying he was in his early eighties. Had she not known this, she’d swear the man wasn’t a day over seventy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mattucci. And thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
    Domenico Mattucci’s voice was soft and slightly raspy. “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Doyle. I saw your drawings for this room. The look you envision is perfect. You must have some Italian blood in you.”
    “Alas, no. Irish through and through. But I’m a great admirer of your heritage. No country has produced more brilliant artists or musical geniuses than Italy.”
    Mattucci’s eyes sparkled. He nodded to his daughter. “This is your show, but I like this woman. Keep her around, capisce?” He turned away for a moment, then added, “Is your husband joining us tonight?” He looked at his watch. “Dinner is ready. I don’t like to keep Dando waiting.”
    “He’ll be late,” Carla said. “Don’t wait for him.”
    Mattucci wheeled his chair around. “I didn’t plan to. Get everyone seated for me, will you? I’ll be in the kitchen for a minute.”
    The other end of the refectory table had been cleared and was set for dinner. Molly noted the place cards and found she’d been seated between Dino and Reggie. Todd Jessop’s place was across from her with Emma and Michelle on each side. Molly wondered if the placement of the young girls had been to keep Jessop in check. It was unlikely he would start anything with them. But she wasn’t at all pleased to be opposite him.
    The table had a true Mediterranean feel, with oversized simple white dishes, flatware with horn handles, and inexpensive wineglasses that could be found at Target. Apparently the Mattucci family didn’t feel it necessary to serve their wine in thin crystal to appreciate its bouquet. The old-country attitude seemed more appropriate to Molly, and she immediately felt at home. Even the two arrangements of carnations and ferns were simple, but lovely. Dinner was served family style. Reminiscent of the back-room dinners at Daria’s, huge platters arrived with antipasti, and oval tubs of butter and mini-decanters of olive oil for the sourdough bread. As the patron of the family, Mattucci sat at the head of the table, and Carla sat next to him.
    As the platters were passed around, Molly suggested to Dino and Reggie that they might like to sit next to each other. They’d been discussing company business across Molly. “Look, why don’t I trade places with one of you? It might make it easier for you to talk.”
    Reggie waved her off. “Not a problem. We yack like this all the time.”
    Molly pushed her chair back. “Really, I don’t mind.”
    Dino rose. “Hey, thanks, Molly. Reggie and I were supposed to meet for lunch today to discuss a few things, but we both got busy.”
    “If you don’t mind my hearing company secrets, be my guest.”
    Dino’s face turned serious. “We’re an open book around here. Hell, the whole Valley, Carmel and Salinas, knows what’s been going on.” He jerked his head towards Todd Jessop’s empty chair. “You were at the shindig last week, right?”
    When Molly nodded, he said, “Then you heard Prince Charming shoot off his mouth. Reggie and I are spending more time doing damage control over that than doing our jobs.”
    Molly traded chairs, then said, “I was in the middle of it.”
    “Yeah, that’s right,” Sullivan broke in, “you were with Carmel’s chief of police. The big guy, Randall.”
    “Hey, was he really a big honcho with LAPD’s Internal Affairs?” Dino asked.
    Molly smiled. “You might say the biggest. And yes, I imagine he towered over everyone else as well.”
    “Nice friend to have,” Sullivan said.
    “He does come in handy