A blond head popped around the corner of the door as it opened, her gaze sweeping over them before landing on Helia. Her expression set the Shaws on alert, and they straightened in their seats.
“Everything okay, Beatrice?” Helia asked.
Beatrice grimaced. “I heard from Alice at the market, who heard from Joe in the dispatch center, that Justin Flannery was found dead in his house this morning.”
Judging by the sharp inhales of his hosts, Monk figured whoever this Justin was, the family knew him.
“No,” Helia said. “Do they know what happened?”
Beatrice shook her head. “Not yet. Or not that Alice knew.” She paused. “I wanted to tell you…”
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” Helia said with a concerned frown. “I’ll stop by his mother’s house tomorrow.”
Beatrice lingered, then nodded. “I dropped the invoices from the market on your desk,” she said to Harry. “They’ll come electronically as well, but you know how Alice is loath to rely on technology.”
Harry chuckled. “Thanks, I’ll get to them once we’re through with the wedding tomorrow.”
Beatrice nodded, then gave a tiny wave and left, closing the door behind her.
“Wow, I was not expecting that,” Helia said, her hands wrapped around her mug, her gaze resting on the table.
“A friend?” Monk asked.
Vanessa nodded. “We’ve known the family since we moved here. Justin grew up with his dad on the East Coast but moved out here for college and stayed. We met him when he began helping Gina—his mom—with her wine accessories business.”
“We dated for a couple of years,” Helia said. She’d married, divorced, and dated more than one guy—obviously she hadn’tpined for him. He hadn’t wanted that for her, but he felt the sharp sting nonetheless.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He wanted to ask why she ended it, but it wasn’t his place. It also wasn’t appropriate given the Shaws had lost someone they obviously cared for.
Harry’s knowing eyes landed on him. “And how are you doing?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s been…interesting. Roger’s death came as a surprise, mostly because I haven’t thought about him in years. But in some ways, I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.” His father was no stranger to illicit drugs or a reckless lifestyle.
“Will you be here for the memorial?” Vanessa asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to stand there and pretend I feel anything about his death.” He hadn’t told the Shaws much about his home life, but he hadn’t needed to. “Let the valley bury one of their own with their illusions of him intact.” Aside from his uncanny business acumen, fooling people was Roger Wilde’s other gift. Assuming things hadn’t changed, the valley would mourn the loss of a philanthropist, a fourth-generation winemaker, and an active member of the food and wine community.
Monk didn’t feel the need to correct them. He had no interest in dredging up the past, but also didn’t want to risk harming the reputation of the Bacco label when he didn’t know what he’d ultimately end up doing with the property.
He frowned. “That reminds me, do you know why the tasting room is closed? My father was never involved in running it, and I assume that hasn’t changed, so I was surprised to see it all but abandoned.”
Vanessa barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “All of Bacco’s employment contracts stipulated that the winery would close for a month after his death and the employees wouldmourn him. Some sort of weird fascination with Victorian death rituals, and his lawyer went along with it.”
Yeah, that sounded like his dad…the world according to Roger Wilde, with him at the center. “Please tell me he at least arranged for them to be paid?”
Helia nodded. “He did, thankfully.” A month of no work could be a death sentence for some in the valley, many of whom lived paycheck to paycheck. “Alessio said he even included bonuses to make up for the tips the tasting room staff would miss out on.”
“Generous guy,” Monk muttered. He didn’t doubt his father’s generosity had more to do with preserving his reputation than out of respect for the people who worked for him. But at least he could rest easy knowing his father hadn’t fucked over the staff with his bizarre demand.
“I should get going,” he said, pushing back from the table. “You all have a big day tomorrow, and I have a three-hour drive home.”
“I didn’t see your car when I was at Bacco earlier,” Helia said, rising with him. Vanessa and Harry followed.
“I needed to burn a little energy, so I parked in town and walked up,” he said, gathering their mugs.
“Why don’t I give you a ride back?” Helia offered. “I’ll swing by Bacco on my way home and grab the cases of wine Alessio left out for me.”
“For the wedding tomorrow?” he asked.
