This is a short story of sweat and toil, the passion of grape growing, and the artistry in the perfection of fine wine. With just a touch of greed thrown in to add some flavor.

PART 1

“Uri Alexia Bablonski," came a loud yell. "I know you are in here. Answer me now, Uri, or there will be hell to pay.”

"Go away, Honrich Golonovich, I have no time for you.” The echoing reply resounded from somewhere deep within the building's interior. 

“You cannot hide from me forever Uri. We talk now, damn you.” Banging footsteps soon indicated the caller had found the steel stairs leading up to the big open fermentation tank.

“What do you want, Honrich? I am working now. You cannot get paid if I do not work.” 

The heavyset man reached the top of the stairs. He paused to grab the railing and catch his breath. “Paid? What have you paid? I have not seen one dime from you.”

Uri set down the big metal wrench he was holding and took up a rag to wipe his greasy hands. “See this piping system Honrich,” he said to the man. “It took weeks to install, and I still need to tune all the gauges. Making wine takes time.”

Honrich came forward on the catwalk, pointing angrily to the big vat. “The wine still sits in the tank. Nothing has changed since I last saw you.” He took out his cell, waving it up in Uri’s face. “Six times, I call you, and you do not answer. We need to have some wine bottled, ready to ship, and ready to SELL.”  

Uri batted away the phone. “I’m out in those fields, sweating in the hot sun, minding the grapes, working myself to death. And that’s all you have contributed, calls?” 

Honrich shook his finger in Uri’s face. “You haven’t accomplished anything. You fall behind the payments to me we had agreed on.” 

"The weather sets the schedule Honrich. You know from nothing of grape growing.”

"I see your sales figures. They are sales failures. I see three big tanks here, and you still do not bottle. Now I see you are even further behind. You are losing me money.”

"You see nothing, Honrich Golonovich, I spit in your face. You are nothing but a hindrance to me. You get no money today. Leave my winery now, or I throw you out like I throw out the slag that rots in the runoffs!”

"Oh, you think so!” Honrich’s voice was loud and mocking. “Have you checked the agreement you signed?” He reached into his coat pocket and waved the contract in Uri’s face. “I own Fifty One percent! I'm selling this winery and deducting all the expenses you owe me. You will have nothing when I get through with you,” he roared. “NOTHING!” 

Honrich turned and headed for the stairs.

“YOU WOULD SELL ME OUT!” Uri screamed in rage. He grabbed the steel wrench and swung it as hard as he could.

Honrich turned, but it was too late—the heavy wrench struck him square in his chest. He staggered backward, tumbled over the railing, and fell headlong into the huge vat. Uri dropped the wrench in shock as Honrich’s body disappeared into the swirling liquid. Uri staggered and collapsed onto the grated steel platform. “God in heaven,” Uri stammered. “What have I done?”

Katerina had heard the shouting from the back yard of the house. She quickly ran to the wine barn. "Uri, where are you?” She called out from the winery’s floor. ”What is happening? Answer me!” 

“I am up here, Kat,” Uri answered. “Come quick, there’s been a terrible accident."

”Katerina made her way up the steep stairs. She found Uri lying on the platform. She looked around—where was Honrich? “What accident?” She demanded. “What do you mean?”

Uri stood up, his face pale and gaunt. “Katerina, Honrich is down there.” He pointed into the wine tank.

“Holy shit Uri. He fell into the vat? How?” 

Uri didn’t answer. He slumped back down and sat on the floor, shaken, struggling for an answer.

“My god Uri, what happened? What in the hell did you do?”

Uri was trembling as he spoke. “Kat, he was going to sell the winery, take away everything we have worked for—I had to stop him—I hit him. Kat. He fell into the wine tank.”

Katerina reached over and grabbed the rail for support, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s not an accident, you fool, that’s murder. What were you thinking?”

“It all happened so fast, I had no control. We will lose everything now, the winery, our livelihood." He paused, raising his head, his face in grief. “Katerina, I will go to prison.”

“No,” Katerina replied. “It has to be an accident. Come now Uri; let us go to the house. We sit down. We’ll have some wine. We find a way."

The little oak table by the bay window was usually where Katerina and Uri rested after a long day working the fields. Now they had much more urgent matters. Kat went to the wine cabinet. “I will pour you our best today; it will calm you. We must put this behind us."

Uri slumped his long-limbed frame into a chair, his head in his hands. “How can we put this behind us? We have a body—police will come when he is missed."

Kat brought the wine. “It’s getting dark now, it's Sunday, all the staff is off. We can hide the evidence.” Kat's voice turned calm and measured; she carefully poured two glasses. “First, we remove the body," she said straight out.

Uri took a drink; he sat it down. “How? The body is in 3,000 liters of fermenting wine?” 

“We hook it with a dragline and pull it out.” Kat coldly replied.

“Uri shook his head, the thought was chilling. “But his car, how do we get rid of that?”

 "We drive it to someplace far away, and ditch it." 

“But there will be evidence he came here, they will know.”

 Kat scratched her nose. Uri knew she always did this when she wasn’t sure of something. “We take that chance,” she finally replied. “But think about it, what can they prove? If they come, and they ask us, we say he came by, and he left.”

“The ownership of the winery," Uri reminded her, "Honrich is the half-owner. There will be legal issues. Others will come, and they will ask questions.”

Kat leaned back in her chair; she picked up her glass. “Let them ask Uri; they have nothing. And think of this, now we are sole owners. No more Honrich and his nagging questions. Drink up, Uri Bablonski. We are the sole owners of Liquid Lust Winery now.” 

It was late evening in the little city of nearby Penticton where Uri parked Honrich’s car on a dark dim-lit street. He then wiped clean the steering wheel and dash with alcohol. Honrich had left his briefcase, but Kat had removed it, and any other reference to the winery. Kat had reminded Uri that they should drive the car much farther than just the distance from Oliver. This would suggest the vehicle was driven to other places after leaving the winery. Uri wore a long coat and a hat pulled over his face when he exited the car. He then walked to meet Kat, who was parked some blocks away. They quickly left the scene. 

After they returned to the winery later that night, Uri and Kat began partaking in two more bottles of Merlot. Uri brought up the problem of removing the body again. “If we take the body from the tank, where do we get rid of it?” He posed. “Also, Andre, will ask—why we empty tank?”

 Kat didn't answer right away. She scratched her nose as before. Uri waited. “It’s an issue but not a problem,” she reasoned. “We tell Andre we think the wine is too acidic, and ask him to seal the tank. Later down the road, we bury Honrich in some far off place in the woods.”

“You’re a master conspirator, my Kat,” Uri blurted out, mockingly. “Who’s next? Me?”

"Hah, you think so, my babooshka?“ she laughed. ”You are my champion, my partner in danger.” 

Uri laughed. They drank more wine.

Andre Leshan was in the wine barn early morning when Uri summoned him and ordered him out to the field. As Cellar Master, Andre had chores to tend to in the tank area. But Uri insisted he check the grapes in the far section to see if they were next for picking? Andre argued that was a task for a field hand, but Uri was insistent.

After Andre left, Uri began walking all around inside the vintner building. He was looking for any trace of last night’s event. But everything was okay, no blood, or anything that might reveal Honrich’s demise. He thought of Kat's reasoning. Outsiders may have suspicions, but there was no indication of wrongdoing. Uri smiled, he felt better now. Without Honrich’s meddling, he was the absolute boss now. This was his winery.

Kat had now settled into organizing their business affairs back in the office. It would be a while until any authorities came. She would have everything ready for prying eyes. Yes, they had paid Honrich little, but they had also taken little for themselves—paid bills meant survival. Katerina also knew Honrich had few family connections in Canada after they came over from the old country. But that was good, the less snooping the better. She set about preparing the ordering papers to take the cellar barrels of Lot-2 to bottle.

The sun was growing hot in the vineyard, Andre wiped his brow. He was getting frustrated. The grapes were ready for picking in the north section—he’d told Uri that. He needed to get back to the tank room, that was more important. “Ignorant Slav,” Andre cursed Uri under his breath, as he climbed back in his car. How dare this Czech Bohemian question his knowledge? Blending Cabernets and Merlots were his specialties, an art form. Uri knows only Pinot Noir. He’s a bo-hunk, a Slavic grape picker. Every time Uri comes to the wine building, he causes problems. He should stay out in the vineyard where he belongs. 

Andre pulled up to the wine barn, parked, and quickly headed for the fermentation tanks. He read the survey meter on tank one for the PH levels. The reading was low, meaning the acids were actually high. But not a problem, he would stir the must, (juices) which had formed the surface of the fermenting grapes and then add more calcium carbonate. Also, he should check to inoculate for malolactic fermentation to reduce the acid. He started for the stairs when he spotted the Action Notice sheet taped on the steel tank. He read Uri’s directive… Andre, seal this tank and set the wine aside, it is spoiled.

Andre was dumbfounded. The wine was only high in acid—not gone bad? The wine could be brought to level. This was outrageous. This full tank represented acres of picked grapes, months of work. It would be insane to dump it. Andre tore the notice up and threw it in the trash.

By now, a week had gone by since the incident. Yet, there had been no calls or any indications regarding Honrich’s whereabouts. But every time a car that looked official came up their road, Kats heart would race with dread. But so far, all was safe. Kat's primary concern, though, was over-seeing the cellar. They had many aging barrels ready. It was important they get them bottled and out to market. She called her distributor Ann Smith, but Ann was not bearing good news

"Kat," Ann began. "Your wine is not well known yet. The retailers are not clamoring for your brand.” 

"This is not acceptable, Kat replied. “Cabernet is popular now. Why the problem? 

Ann tried to frame her words carefully. “Your wines were too early last year. Look, I know you just started up, but you need a good aged brand on the shelf.”

“Ann, our next wine, Lot-2, is older. I know it will sell.” 

Ann hesitated a bit. “Okay, we’ll try 100 cases, see how that goes.”

Uri was down in the vineyards, hauling a load of grapes back up to the wine barn for crushing, his cell rang. He stopped the tractor and quieted the engine. "Yes, Kat?" 

“Uri, our first batch, isn’t selling well. Those three-year-old kegs in the cellar, our second crop, are they ready? Do you think they are better?” 

“Oh yes, much better. We had bottled the first year too early because we were cash short. But this is good wine.”

“Okay, that is good news.” Kat clicked off her cell. 

“That god damn Honrich,” Uri cursed, spitting out the dead man’s name. It was Honrich who had forced him to bottle early. “It is good he is gone.” He spat again.

The purple mass of crushed grape in the big second tank needed tending. Andre reached for the long-handled stir stick and began punching down the crust over the mixture. Suddenly Uri’s loud voice resounded throughout the wine building. “Andre Leshan. Come down here!” 

“Damn, what now?” Andre muttered. He dropped the stick and clamored down the catwalk stair to the winery floor. "What is it now, Uri? I’m busy on the other tank." 

Uri was standing at Tank-1 he pointed to the tank's green light.

“This tank is still active, did you not see my directive? I want this tank shut down!” 

“Listen, Uri, I have good news,” Andre told him. “This wine is good.” He produced the readout paper from his pocket. “Look, the ph levels are normal.”  

Uri’s anger was growing.” I don’t care about the readout. I think this wine has gone bad. It’s cat's pee. I want it shut down now.” 

“But I’m ready to clarify this wine and fine it. “Andre explained to him. “Soon it will be ready to go to barrel.” Andre held up a sample he’d drawn in a small glass. “Look,” he told him. He took up the sample and sipped it. "It's smooth.” He held it up to Uri. “Taste it.”

Uri's face grew deathly pale. “NO!” he gasped. “Get it away.” He recoiled back and ran from the building.

Andre stood there dumbfounded—what had just happened? 

Kat was startled by the sound of the screen door banging against the wall. Uri barged in—ran to the bathroom. Next, she could hear him gagging behind the closed door. 

“Uri, are you okay?” He didn’t answer. She decided to sit and wait.

Finally, Uri emerged his face pale and gaunt. “I want Andre fired,” he blurted.” He sat at the table and said no more.

Kat hovered over him. “Now what have you done?” She was in no mood for any more trouble.

“Andre disobeyed me,” Uri answered. “He didn’t turn off the tank, he wants to keep its wine.”

Kat sat down. “Oh God, what did you say to him?” 

“I told him to do as I asked, but he argued that the wine was good. Kat, he…he drank from the tank. My God!, Honrich is in that wine. "it was too much. I ran.”

“Alright, now stop this panicking, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go and talk to Andre, no more talk of firing. Dammit, we need him.” She got up and left.

Kat found Andre quietly sitting in the tank room. She put a smile on her face and quickly approached him. "Are you alright, Andre?"

“No,” he answered directly. “What’s wrong with that man, he’s driving me crazy!”

Kat sat down next to him on the bench. “Uri is under pressure. This growing season is especially hard on him. Could you bear with me for just a while?” she pleaded.

Andre rolled his eyes. "He gets in my way on everything, and lately, he's gotten worse. I can’t work with that man anymore.” 

“I will talk to Uri, I need you to stay.” Kat tried to be as convincing as she could. “Andre, you’re in charge of the cellar production. If you say the wine is good, then we keep it. I’ll remind Uri of that. I promise you this time it will work. Are we agreed?”

Andre nodded. Kat had fixed things as usual, but this time her promise had better hold. 

“Okay, Just keep him away from the tanks. I can save the wine Kat, but I need control.”

“You have it.”

 Kat left. Hopefully, she had patched things up. But she knew she had only put out one fire, and started up another.

 It had been a good two weeks before Katerina was to be confronted with a dreaded inquiry on Honrich. But it didn't come up the road. It was a phone call. Her cell said it was from Toronto. She answered.

“Hello, Katerina," an older woman’s voice was on the line. “I’m Ilsa Golonovich, Honrich’s sister. I don’t know if he ever mentioned my name to you?”

Tension started to swell up in Kat's throat. “Yes, he’s mentioned you, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

"Oh, no, that’s not why I’m calling. I can't seem to locate Honrich, he was coming out to visit, but he never showed up. I called his home number and office, but no one there has seen him either.”

Kat paused, then answered. ”When was he expected, Ilsa?” 

“Well, it has been several days now. I’m wondering if you knew anything. Has he been out to see you?”

Kat hesitated again. This was the big question, “Um, ah, Ilsa, he was out here two weeks ago on Sunday, but we’ve heard nothing from him since.”

 “Well, okay then, Katerina, thank you. But if you do hear anything, please call me at this number. We are anxious here, and it's not like him just to disappear."  

 "Of course, Ilsa. Sorry I couldn’t help you.”

That night, Kat informed Uri of the call. She broke it to him as gently as she could. "Ilsa will file a missing person report now,” she began. “We need to sync up our stories, the police will soon want to talk to us.”

Uri nervously set his wine down. “Did you ask her if Honrich had said anything about us, anything about him selling?” 

“No,” Kat came back. “That’s the worst approach, Uri. Never ask questions that hint at a motive. Never give information until you’ve heard it from the questioner first.”

“How you know all this stuff?“ Uri accused her. “You talk like a master felon?” 

“It’s common sense, just remember it.”

“All I know Kat is we must get the body from the Tank-1 soon. Police will be here; they will search with special equipment. They will find evidence.”

“Yes, I’ve thought of that,” Kat assured him, “and I have a plan.”

"You have a plan? I have a plan too. We tell Andre we are boss, we empty tank. He stays out of it." Uri sat back, his arms folded. 

“Listen, Uri,” Kat knew this was going to be rough. “We need Andre on our side. Let him barrel the tank as Lot-3. When the tank is near empty, we send Andre away on a mission or something. Then we can dispose of evidence, and all is good.”

Uri said nothing. Kat could see his face redden. Suddenly he brought his fist down hard on the table, the cabinet dishes rattling. “NO,” he bellowed. “I do not want that wine barrelled. It is poison. It keeps Honrich’s ghost alive. He will haunt me from the cellar. We must destroy all trace of him."

Kat sat back, she crossed her arms, her eyes fixated on Uri. The only sound was the old clock ticking in the hallway.

“Did you hear what you just said, Uri Bablonski?" Her voice accusing, “do you want to go to prison because you believe in ghosts? Are you ready to send me there too?” 

Uri shook his head, “Andre is only an employee. He must do what we tell him."

“He is Cellar Master Uri, he believes that wine is good, and he will make trouble. When the police come, they will focus their suspicion on that tank. Do you want that?” 

Uri, calmed a bit. “No, but there must be another way, this is too scary for me.”

“After the wine is drained and filtered, it will sit for three years in barrels, ”Kat replied. “We will have all that time to see if it stays good. If not, we still have the other tanks to replace Lot-1. It will not be so big a loss, we can survive."

 "I must have time to think, Katerina; I do not like this." 

“Nor do I Uri, but we must stay calm on this, and focus. Do you agree or not?”

Uri finally nodded, but Kat could see he wasn’t convinced.

Andre examined the plastic hose from Tank-1, it ran a cloudy red. But that was good. Andre knew the filters would solve it. Wine is always cloudy at early pull. He shut off the drain spigot when the smaller settling tank topped. He capped it and smiled; it was done. This full tank signified Lot-1, the cellar's first wine of the year. In another week, he would have the entire batch of Tank-1 ready to barrel.

That night Kat informed Uri of Andres near completion of the draining of Tank-1.“We need to empty that tank now, Uri. Andre will be draining down to where the body is soon.” 

She studied Uri's reaction; he was apprehensive. The removal of the body was starting to be an issue with him. “Uri, we’re running out of time, Kat reminded him. We discussed this. The long weekend is coming; it will be perfect. Most of the staff will be gone, except for Andre and Gwynn Williams, the storeroom worker.” 

Uri nervously nodded. “Ok, we can ask, Gwinn, to leave early, but how do we get Andre away from the tanks? He’s always in the fermentation room?” 

“There’s a wine seminar in Kelowna this weekend," Kat noted. "I’ll ask him to represent us at the meetings. He’ll like that, all the other Cellar Masters will be there.”

“I need time to think.” 

“Uri, I need your commitment on this, I can't do this by myself. You must drop this fear you have.”

“Kat, I am bothered by that tank, I’m afraid to go near it?”  

“Honrich’s ghost again? Dammit, I was hoping you were over that?”

“Kat, Honrich is in that tank, he’s in those bottles.” Uri was obsessed. "I had nightmares last night. He hovers like death over me from that tank.”

“Okay. Okay. I believe you, Uri." She sat in thought for a moment.

“Maybe I have something that can help you.” Kat arose and went to her desk drawer. She opened it and brought out a small wooden box. “Take this Uri,” she said, handing it to him.

The box was latched with a little catch. Uri snapped it open. Inside was a silver object. He took it out and examined it.

“It’s a Domovoy,” Kat informed him. “My Grand-Mama gave it to me when I was a little girl in the old country.”

Uri studied the little elfish figure dangling from a leather strap. A long curving mustache framed his fierce-looking face. A pointed hat sat on his head, surrounded by symbols of stars. “Yes, I’ve seen this in the old country," Uri mentioned. “My mother also had one.”

“It’s a Czech talisman Uri. The Domovoy is the deity that protects our household. With it, you are safe from demon spirits. It will drive them all away.”

Uri nodded his head in approval. He held the talisman in his hand. “Thank you, Katerina Bablonski,” his face brightened. “This is good.” 

“Okay, Saturday, is it then?” Kat asked him. “We do it. Yes?”  Kat searched his face for an answer…

Uri placed the talisman strap around his neck. “Yes, my Kat, we do it.”

Kat smiled. She had bought the little figure on eBay for $24,95. Better a lie that heals, she thought, than a truth that harms.

The weekend began with the threat of rain. Kat and Uri walked to the wine barn, the air turning colder. Kat looked to the darkening sky, Uri had suggested they bury the body on the western mountain slope. It was dense with thick brush, rarely visited. But she didn’t like the possibility of trudging in mud, packing a wine-soaked corpse. Uri went up to the big tank and peered inside. The tank was still one-quarter full, but it was mostly pulp now—fortunately, with the body still unexposed, a few more days of draining and Andre would have seen it.                                                                           

Uri looked away from the tank. He would have to prepare himself now. He must enter the vat. He took hold of the grappling hook rope. Luckily there was a crane hoist on a rail above the tanks; it would make the lifting easier. He was wearing a clumsy rubber bodysuit and a breathing mask used for tank cleaning. He grabbed the rope, and Kat pushed the hoist button to lower him down. Uri fished around with his hands until he found the sunken body. He positioned himself and wrapped the rope around it until he could fasten the hook.

“Lift!” Uri yelled. Kat hit the UP button.

From the vat came a gruesome, shriveled purple mass, bringing an overpowering stench of escaping gasses with it. The corpse rose until it was swinging high above the tank, dripping down wine and falling waste—a scene right out of a B grade horror movie. When the body had finally drained off, Kat lowered it down over a heavy tarp lain on the floor. They would wrap it up in that for carrying away. Kat locked off the tank room door, and they left.

Luckily there was no rain yet, and the road up the mountain was dry. Uri knew this area; he had driven through this old abandoned dirt road before. Uri found the cut off he remembered and edged the 4-wheel drive truck into the brush. The rest of the way would be by carrying. Kat wasn’t a big woman, but she was stronger than most, and somehow they traversed the body to their hidden digging site.

They commenced digging. Hours went by until Uri felt it was deep enough. They rolled in the body and emptied two bags of lye over it. The lye would kill any smell that might attract animals, plus dissolve away the corpse. As darkness fell, a silent full moon lit the valley, revealing deep shadows in ghostly detail along the winding road back down from the mountain. Uri drove with one hand on the wheel, holding the talisman tight in the other. At last, the deed was done. The ghost was gone.

Even at five in the morning, the summer sun, in the South Okanagan Valley shines hot and bright, stealing back the night too soon. By six o'clock, Uri would be out somewhere in the winery working. 

Kat always used this time to tend to her flowers behind the house. She had trellises all around the back patio, covered with climbing roses and purple morning glory. It was here she could listen to the gurgling water fountain as she tended to their cuttings. This was the perfect place to usher in the winery’s visitors to sit and enjoy a tasting. She wouldn’t expect any visitors this early; most tourist and wine enthusiasts didn’t arrive till later. She had this quiet time for herself.

The slam of two car doors startled her—she hadn’t heard the car drive up. She set her trimmings down and quickly walked inside to the front desk. A tall man in a grey suit stood in the doorway, another man was behind him. He looked around, saw, Kat, and came forward. 

“Hello,” he greeted. “I’m looking for Uri and Katerina Bablonski.”

“I’m Katerina.” She answered. “My husband is out in the winery now.”

“Katerina, if you don’t mind, we’d like to speak to you both. Please inform him to come up to the office.”

“Um, regarding?”

“Just routine questioning.” He motioned to the other man. “This is officer Dean, I’m Inspector Dexter Mallory, Penticton RCMP. We can wait outside.”

“You can take a seat out on the trellis if you like,” she told them, pointing to the patio. “I’ll call him.” 

Uri soon brought his tractor up the hill. He parked near the office. Kat met him before he reached the house. He was obviously tense. "Be calm; they just want to talk," she whispered. “No big deal."

The two officers greeted Uri, and then they all took a seat on the patio. Officer Mallory opened his notebook and looked at Uri. 

“I understand you and your wife share this property with another owner, a Honrich Golonovichi, is that correct, sir?”

"Yes, he's a half-owner,” Uri replied. “But he hardly ever comes around. Kat and I run the place full time.” 

“When did you see him last?”

“Why?” Uri suddenly blurted out.

Kat came in quickly. "It was about four weeks ago," she answered.

Malloy glared at Kat. “Let Uri answer please." He looked back at Uri. “What was the nature of his visit?” 

Uri began stammering a bit. “I, um, well, he just came by to see us. He sometimes comes to visit, see how we’re doing. Check up on things, you know.”

Mallory looked over at Kat. “And what times did he arrive and leave, Mrs. Bablonski?”

“He was here on Sunday the first of the month” She quickly replied. “Uri had shown him the cellar storage. Then he left about two hours later, around six pm.”

Mallory stared intently at Uri. “How do you get along with Honrich? Any angry confrontations with him? Any trouble that way?”

Uri put his hand to his forehead. His first reaction was to lie. He looked at Kat, but she was trying to reveal little emotion. “I…I wish I could say we got along officer, but I can’t.” Uri hesitated then collected his thoughts. “Yes, we had our differences. Honrich was a novice in wine growing. He made life difficult for us, we both had to put up with him.”

Mallory nodded, he looked to Kat. "Has anybody else called you asking about him?”

Kat immediately realized they’d talked to Ilsa. "Yes, his sister called about three weeks ago, she was looking for him. He was missing.” 

“That didn’t cause you any alarm?”

“Yes, of course, and I was sympathetic to her. But we have a winery at peak season.”

“Okay, that will do it for now,” Mallory concluded. “I just have one more request. I would like the names of your key employees. We would like to talk to them now also.”

Kat froze. This was unexpected. “Officer they’re busy in the daytime. Can’t it be later?”  

“I have a schedule also Katerina,” Mallory reminded her. “We’ll try not to disrupt your people too much, just give me the names.” 

“Is Honrich now an official missing person?”

“Yes, Katerina, he is our top priority right now.”

That night, Kat and Uri were at their little table by the window. They were worried; they had much to do. Now the police would be a concern. Kat poured the wine. Uri was quiet. “Look, Uri, the cop was just fishing, he didn’t know anything,” she consoled him. “He was just looking for reactions. You handled it well, I thought.”

"Somebody talked," Uri mumbled. "The cop was suspicious. He went around talking to the staff, taking photographs. What’s he looking for?”

“He’s got a missing person case, Uri. He has to question everybody.” Kat picked up her glass. "We have to patch things up with Andre, treat him good, ok?”

Uri tapped his glass on hers. “Okay, agreed."

The Penticton Herald arrived the next morning in the mailbox with the following article. 

Part owner of Oliver winery reported missing.
Police are seeking the whereabouts of Honrich Golonovich, first reported missing by his sister Ilsa Golonovich last week. Honrich was last seen in the Oliver area over a month ago at the Liquid Lust Winery address. His vehicle, a 2015 Toyota sedan, was recently found abandoned on a city street in Penticton. Police suspect possible foul play. If you have any information regarding Honrich, please call Inspector Dexter Malloy, at Penticton RCMP…

Now there were more drop-by visitors at Liquid Lust. Kat and Uri gained some degree of notoriety in the wine valley's small circle. They had a tantalizing mystery going. A member of the local wine establishment was missing, provided intriguing tidbits of chatter. So with the added workload, Kat decided Gwynn Williams, who had been with the Bablonski's for a year now, should be promoted and take on new responsibilities. He had been a sommelier at a restaurant when Kat had first hired him. Andre had trained him well in his job as Assistant Cellar Master. Plus, his knowledge of wine marketing was a valuable asset at any winery. Now Andre assigned Gwynn to the cellar, and he would soon be responsible for bottling as well as barrel samplings.

Later that day, Kat was on the back patio when she heard a car coming. She shielded her eyes; the sun was unusually hot, even for late August. Below the property, she could see Uri tending to the lower vineyard sprinklers. Further up the hill, she could make out a black Mercedes winding its way up the slope. It wasn’t a supplier—she knew all their cars. This could be trouble. She quickly went back into the house. 

The driver stepped from the car. He was tall, with a dark complexion, wearing a black leather sports jacket. He stood in the lot, looking over the property, noting the vintner building. He turned and walked towards the house.

“May I help you?” Kat greeted him, standing up from her front desk.

“Yes, I’m looking for the owner of this property, his voice, and manner friendly, but firm.

“I’m Katerina Bablonski,” Kat answered. “My husband and I own this property.”

“Very good then, can I talk to you?” 

Kat motioned to her small office chair, “of course."

"Well, Katerina, he replied, taking a seat. “May I call you that?”

“Everyone calls me Kat. And you are?”

Jorge Blackmore, I’m a business associate of Honrich Golonovich. I believe he’s a co-owner of this property.

“He’s a silent partner,” Kat immediately came back, somewhat concerned. “What business do you have with Honrich, may I ask?”

Jorge frowned. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper. “This is an agreement signed by Mr. Bablonski regarding a certain loan he and I entered into." He handed the paper to Kat. “In that agreement,” Jorge went on, “he placed his holdings as collateral.”

Kat unfolded the paper. It was a typed document, not exactly official looking to her. "I've heard nothing of this," Kat replied. "Precisely what holdings are you referring to?" 

Jorge raised his arm and made a sweeping motion. "This property, he gestured. Read the document, this winery is mentioned at the bottom.”

A wave of both fear and anger swept across Kat. She took a deep breath. “Just why are you here, Jorge? We accept no agreement made separately without our knowledge.” Kat kept her cool, “I think you should find Honrich. This is not our concern.”

"Oh, but it is now Kat. It seems my business partner—your ex-partner, is incognito.” He gave Kat a little smirking smile. “So now I have only you.”

Kat disregarded him. “If you’re looking for some wine, I can help you, otherwise, I have work to do. Please leave." 

Jorge leaned in close, his voice now menacing. “You won’t get rid of me that easy Katerina.” He laid a card on the table. “Call me soon, or maybe I have a little chat with your new friend Mallory. We both know I won’t find Honrich. Don't you Katerina." 

He turned and quickly left.

A pang of dread tingled down Kat's spine as she watched the Mercedes drive away.

That night Kat poured Uri a glass of the good stock. She sat quietly as he sipped. Then she mentioned Blackmore and showed him his card. 

Uri's face reddened, "Who is this bastard? He has no claim on us!”  

“I think he knows something the police don’t,” Kat replied sitting her glass down. She framed her words carefully. “He says that with Honrich probably dead, and no way to be paid, the winery should cover his debt. He’s trying to force a deal somehow?”

Uri winced. “What do we do?”

Kat held up the card. “Let's find out what he knows.”

Jorge Blackstone parked his Mercedes and came to the winery office at 8:30 pm as Kat had requested. She ushered him into the big tank fermentation room. All the staff was gone now except for Uri, who was above on the platform stirring Tank number two. Kat motioned to Jorge to climb the steel stairs. Jorge didn't like this; he was in an alien environment. He climbed and walked cautiously along the platform. 

Uri kept stirring the wine pulp—pungent fumes spewing out. He noticed Jorge approaching, he took out the stick and set it aside.

"Okay, you've got your meeting," Uri said to the man, taking off his gloves. "Just what do you want?" 

"It seems, your ex-partner owes me a great deal of money," Jorge answered. "I think we can come to some agreement on settling that debt." 

“I doubt that, why should we settle any debt with you?”

“One reason,” Jorge said. “To keep my knowledge in this whole affair confidential.”

Uri’s face reddened. “What affair?”

“Your little visit with Honrich, the police will be very interested in that.”

 Kat quickly came in. "You know nothing of our meeting with Honrich. How could you? You weren’t even here!”

Jorge’s eyes tightened. “He came up here to see you Sunday night, August 1, at precisely 9:17 pm.” 

Kat recoiled back in surprise. She had not revealed that time to anybody. “How do you know that?”

"Because I was waiting for him down at the pub after he dropped me off. But he never came back. He never left this winery. Did he?” 

Kat tried to speak, her voice cracking. “He left. He went home!” 

“No, he didn’t! He came here to get money from you, to pay me. That’s why I was with him. I waited for three hours in that Goddamn pub. But he never returned.” Jorge’s voice turned calm and measured. “You killed him, didn’t you?” 

“He's not dead. He's a missing person.” Uri stammered.

 "Oh, he's dead alright. The cops suspect foul play now." 

 "Then, if you believe that,” Kat challenged him, “why haven't you gone to the police?" 

"I figured he'd flown the coop, but when they found his ditched car, I knew then you bastards had done him in. How about I go to the police with that?”

"What do you want?" Kat said coldly. 

“He owed me $150,000.”

“Bull shit, you’re lying. Besides, we won’t pay that.”

“Oh yes you will, plus $25,000 interest. You'll take over his installments. I’m your new silent partner,” he sneered.

“You bastard thief!” Uri shouted. He came forward menacingly.

Blackmore yanked open his coat, revealing a holstered pistol. “Go ahead,” he warned. “Did you think I would come unarmed?”

Suddenly Kat lunged forward. She slammed into Jorge, knocking him back to the edge of the rim of the tank. He stood awkwardly dangling over the edge, desperately flailing his arms, trying to keep from falling. Kat hit him again. He screamed, plunged into the tank, and sank into the dark liquid, his arms reaching out, fingers grasping at thin air. Then he was gone.

Kat looked over to a stunned Uri. "Let's let him soak for a while. We need to hide the car now." 

 

PART 2

“Look, mommy,” the little girl happily exclaimed. “Jody’s found a hand.” 

 The mother peered down to see the little dog holding a dark-looking object in its mouth. It appeared to be a human hand.

“Achhhh! Get it away,” she yelled. 

Her husband quickly came over. He examined the leathery, shriveled object, and then dropped it in disgust.

“Alice, get the cell, we better call the police.”

Chief Inspector Dexter Mallory was at a softball game with his family when he got the call from dispatch. 

“Yeah? Are you sure it's human? Yeah. Ok. I’ll be over up there in about an hour.” He clicked off.

“What’s that all about,” his wife asked. 

“Some picnickers found a body part up in the mountains above Oliver.”

“No, where?”

“Up around Fairview Road on some old logging road.”
 

As Mallory bounced along the rutted road leading to the site, he tried to recollect his old missing person reports. Most were derelicts or lost tourists, but there hadn’t been any from the Oliver area for some time. Malloy pulled into a turnoff and parked by an open field. Dr. Ellery Wilson was waiting. Ellery is the local Forensic Pathologist from Penticton GH. He is an expert on body decomposition. He's always the go-to-guy in these cases. He greeted Dexter and led him across the field until they reached a washed-out area leading up the mountain.

“The dog found the hand here,” Ellery exclaimed. “My guess is the rest is up there.” He pointed up the steep slope. 

“How did it get down here?” Dex asked. “That’s a good 1000 meters up.”

"There was a heavy rain here a few days ago; it washed down this ravine," Ellery replied.

Dexter took off his hat and scratched his brow. “I’ll be damned, what a stroke of luck.” 

"That's right Dex. If it had been buried just five meters on either side of the wash, we’d never have found it.”

 

Inspector Fredrick Dean was in his office when Dexter came in Monday morning. Fred had the body part report from the lab. “Did you see this?” he asked Dex?”

“Not the report yet, but I was up at the site where the part was found on Sunday.”

“Listen to this, the hand they found had been fermented in wine!”

“What? Gimme that.” 

Dex took the report and read it. “Good God, Freddy, it says it had been soaked in a wine must!"

“Yep, aged to perfection.” 

Dex groaned. “It goes on to say, the rest of the body they found is in pieces, looks like only the hand is intact,” he handed it back to Fred. “Go figure?”

“They mention the hand had traces of lye,” Fred noted. “My guess is the lye ate away most of the corpse, but the hand survived somehow. Maybe rain washed it off over time."

“Any ID yet?”

“No, but with a hand, it shouldn’t take long.” 

Dex scratched his chin. “This is getting weirder. When I talked to Ellery, he figured the body had been there at least three years. Let's start digging out old files."
 

 It was five pm when the crime lab finally called back, Dr. Wilson was on the line. “We got an ID match Dex.” Ellery told him. “It fits a missing report filed three years ago, for a Honrich Golonovich. A Chechen. The guy immigrated to Canada 20 years back.”

“Yeah, I recognize that name, he was a winery owner in Oliver. He was on our rap sheet. He'd caused trouble over at the Casino a couple of times.”

Also, Ellery added, “we can try and break down the wine components that soaked the hand to determine the mixture. That should help." 

“That’s wild Ellery, a DNA match to ID some wine? 

Ellery laughed, ”Yeah, sort of like that.”

”We gotta keep this under wraps, Ellery. It’ll be all over the talk show circuits.”

“I hear you.” He clicked off.

Dex turned to Freddy. “Remember that visit we made to Liquid Lust Winery a few years back? Let's do some more digging on those two.”
 

Katerina was out on her garden trellis. Monday mornings were her respite, her time to relax. The new bottles were moving well, and the winery was finally making a good return. Her cell rang; it was a caller from Vine Magazine.

“Hello, Katerina. It's Armando Blassa editor with Vine. I'd like to review your Cabernet Sauvignon this year. I’ve heard some very nice things about it.”

Kat's heart jumped a beat. "Well thank you, Armando, that’s great. We just released it.”

"Oh, it's very much in the mix now, the Socialista’s are envious,“ Armando’s tone became elevated. "You must, oh, and I do mean ‘must,’ give our writers the scoop.” 

"Yes, I will, Armando.”

“Tremendous Katerina, we’ll be in touch. Ta!”
 

At the table that night, Kat was very excited, she described her call to Uri from the magazine. "This is a real coup she beamed. We'll be top shelf now."

“Good,” Uri responded. "That will fire up the sales."

They took up their glasses and clinked. “To Liquid Lust” Kat toasted. “Un tres’ bon… whatever.” She laughed. They drank.

The next day Kat got another call, It was from Ann Smith, her distributor. “Kat, I have some good news.” Ann sounded excited. “We’re not sure what’s happening Kat, but your last shipment of Lot-1 bottles is selling fast. What secret did you put in those barrels?”

A terrible realization suddenly gripped Kat, Ann said Lot-1! Those were from Tank-1. “Um, I…I don’t know,” she stammered. “That’s the first wine of that year.” 

"Well, send more soon, Kat, it's a hit." 

Kat put her cell down and collapsed into her chair, shaking her head. “Oh my God,” she mumbled to herself, Honrich was in that wine.”

Gwynn was busy rolling barrels to storage when Kat found him in the cellar. She motioned to him, and he came over. They were standing next to the cases of wine bottles, marked Lot-3. 

“Gwynn, didn’t I ask you to send a batch of these Lot-3 cases to distribution first?”

“Yes, but I thought I’d send the Lot-1’s and 2's instead. They’re the first of that year, a little older, so I figured it might help them sell better.” 

“But I told you to hold them back, I was worried about them.”

“Kat, I sampled those lots from Tank-1 and 2. Those bottles aren't bad. A little beefy maybe, but ready.”

Kat winced. “Alright, then, keep sending them.”
 

Kat was quiet that evening at the table. She took up a bottle and poured Uri a glass as usual. “Uri, I heard from Anna today. Our Lot-1 and 2 barrels—you know. They’re selling better than any wine we’ve ever bottled.”

“What? Kat, you said the magazine was all gaga over our Lot-3?”  Uri suddenly grasped what this implied. “Wait, I thought we were going to throw Lot-1 and 2 out!”  Uri looked at the bottle on the table. He grabbed it, holding it up angrily. “Kat, is this bottle from those tanks also?”

Kat put her hand on the bottle. “No. No. My God Uri, the mix-up was in the shipment only. God is my witness.”

Uri sat back at his chair, his face now pale. “Then what happened?”

“It was Gwynn,” Kat replied shaking her head. “He informed me he sent out Lot-1 wine instead. I thought it was a miracle that batch was even drinkable, now it’s our best.”

Uri sat quietly now, trying to think. "Tell them it came from a different area of the field. That’s all I can come up with for now.”
 

Inspector Malloy’s cell buzzed, it was Dr. Wilson over at Crime lab. Dex grabbed it up immediately.

“Dex, I've run samples of the skin fragments from the specimen, but I'm afraid there's no news on it yet.”

“Can’t you break down the wine mixtures?”

"No, Dex, I’m sorry. The chemical evaluation is way beyond our equipment. The hand is in too much deterioration? But there is a lab in Australia that’s doing wonders in wine research, called Vintessentia. I’ll send it down there.”

“Australia? Who would have thought?” Dex responded. “Okay then, thanks, Ellery. We’ll sit tight.” 

Dex clicked off his cell. Damn, he was ready to storm up that hill and seal off Liquid Lust. Now they have to sit and wait some more.
 

Kat and Uri greeted guests at their presentation table in the crowded hotel conference room. They had been invited to the winemaker's show in Kelowna, all the top wineries were there. Kat felt comfortable, but Uri, in his ill-fitting sport coat, appeared more like a lost farmer forced into a town meeting. They were soon introduced to Jacques Duboeuf, a well-known wine expert and writer.

“Ah, the Bablonski’s,” he exclaimed. "We meet at last, and you must be Katerina.” He took her hand in a limp handshake. He turned to Uri. “And you, I’ve heard so much of your triumph.”

Uri was somewhat taken aback. "Well, yes, we’re pleased with our new line up.”

“Oh, you speak too modestly Uri, your Cabernet screams complexity.”

Uri frowned, wondering what that meant.

”It hits the tongue, then leaps to the palette.” Jacques went on, “leaving the senses, sprinting to catch up. I detected a trace of mint, no?" He looked at Kat.

Kat cringed, probably aftershave, she thought.

“But most of all,” he declared. “There’s a meaty depth—an earthy, hedonistic, bursting, muscular, throbbing, taste of excitement.” He turned to Uri. “I have a title for this new wine.” 

Uri tried to not wretch.

"Uri's Full-Bodied CLIMAX!” he boldly announced to the room, waving his hand. “That’s what I will write.”

Uri sat down his glass and quickly sprinted for the bathroom.

“His stomachs a bit upset,” Kat quickly explained. He’s been reacting badly to some sushi from lunch.” 
 

That evening Kat was driving on their way back to the Winery. Uri was tired, the constant babbling; of wine talk, and Duboeuf’s flamboyant silliness was too much to endure. "That's the first, and the last wine presentation I'm going to," he complained.

Kat nodded. “But we met some good contacts there Uri.”  

“We don't need them now. We're on a roll." 

“Uri, the last of Lot-1 and Lot-2 will be gone soon. Now, Lot-3 will have to support us. You know Lot 3 is um, back to our ordinary wine. No, you know who.

"It will do it, Kat. Once our name is good, perception follows." 

 Kat was about to answer that when the news came on the FM…something about Oliver….

“Turn it up, Uri!”

…” the hand was reported in by picnickers when their dog had found it in a heavily wooded area.” The announcer proclaimed, “Police now have identified the find as part of the remains of Honrich Golonovich, a business partner of the owners of Liquid Lust Winery in Oliver. Honrich had disappeared over three years ago. Police have not released any more details at this time.” 
 

The phones rang constantly in the winery the following morning. Kat asked Sally, her new counter helper, to field all the calls, she was too depressed to talk to anyone. But soon Sally motioned to her indicating an important call. Kat shook her head. Sally hung up, then came over. 

“It’s from Vine Magazine, they left a number to call back.” 

Kat nodded to her. She got up and walked over to Uri sitting out on the patio. “It's the writer from Vine. They want to do an article on our new wine Uri.”

 Uri had been upset since the report. He had neglected the fields. Kat knew he was needed out there, but hadn’t pressed it. “Uri, we will have to go on—act as if this has nothing to do with us.”

“Kat, How? How could they have found that body, it's maddening!”

 "Uri, it's not that bad. If there were any more evidence, they'd be here by now."

 "Let's wait, Kat. We can use the time to think."

Kat noticed Sally making a hand gesture—another important call. Kat took it on her cell. “Kat here.”

Anne came on the line, “Katerina, good news, your first stocks sold out. How much do you have leftover there?"

Kat cringed, thinking of the Blackmore bottles. “We have the second run of Lot-3, it’s from later from that year.” 

“Great send it all—oh, one other thing, have you labeled it yet?”

"No. Gwynn was just going to do that.” 

“Listen, the ad people think you need to rebrand it—get this," Anne's voice was excited, “Uris full bodied-Special Reserve. What do you think?”

Kat shook her head but answered calmly. “Uh, sure, okay Ann, have them send the labels straight over to Gwynn.” 

That night at the table, Kat mentioned her call from Anne. “Uri, I have just released the second run of Lot-3.”  

Uri didn’t answer. He knew what was in that shipment.
 

At police HQ, the Honrich case was a priority again. Officer Fred Dean had been scanning Honrich’s phone call records. He noted one name that kept popping up in his cell calls. This name seemed familiar Fred thought. That name was Jorge Blackmore. This man was reported missing about four weeks after Honrich’s disappearance. That seemed too coincidental. But Blackmore was from Vancouver. His report didn't mention any connection with Penticton. Blackmore wasn’t reported missing until he didn’t pay his bills, suggesting he had few friends. 

But now that the Honrich’s disappearance had become a homicide, Fred had asked Vancouver PD to help by checking in to Blackmore’s background. So when officer Bill Dolan of Vancouver PD got back to him, he was excited. He called the number Bill had left.

Bill came on the line. “We may have something here,” he began. “That name Blackmore has been on my rap sheet file for years."

“That's great Bill, what have you found?”

“This guy is a real scumbag—or was. He loaned out the money he obtained from rich Asian investors who were trying to hide cash from immigration—a big problem out here. He worked mostly out of the casino’s, that’s how he found his marks.”

“How did you connect him to us?”  

“We had an informant who squealed for less time jail time. He said he loaned Blackmore 35,000 dollars, to fleece a gambler who lost big at the roulette tables.”

"Wow, that's a chunk."  

“Yeah. The informant told us Blackmore’s pigeon was a well-heeled Slavic, who owned a winery out in the Okanagan.”

Freddy’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s our guy, alright.”

“I thought so too. At first, I figured Blackmore took off with the cash. But he had left everything here except his car. So that told us he was probably dead.”

“What kind of car was it?”

“An old black 1997 Mercedes.”

After Bill hung up, Fred turned and gave a high sign to Dexter across the room. Dex smiled, at last, a good lead. 
 

By the weekend, Gwynn had completed the last of Lot-3 and loaded the cases on a truck for delivery. He kept one box out for the tasting counter and carried it over to the office. Kat was on the patio terrace when she saw Gwynn come in. He began unloading the bottles for display.

"No, Gwynn,” Kat announced as he entered. ”Put them behind the counter.”

But Gwynn held a bottle up and showed her the new label. “Look, Kat. Uri’s Full-Bodied Special Reserve. Nice huh?”

"I said, put them AWAY!” she yelled back, startling Gwynn.

“Sorry, Kat, I thought you’d be happy to see them.” 

Kat immediately apologized, “I'm sorry, Gwynn. It’s been a rough day. Just leave them.” 
 

The blinking light on Dex's phone lit up. It was the crime lab. He grabbed it immediately. "Yes, Ellery?"  

“Dex, I’m sorry. We can’t positively identify a marker in the hand specimen.”

“Damn,” Dex replied. “What do you have? Anything?”

“The Lab Down Under tells us it has traces of Cabernet and Merlot.”

Dex leaned back in his chair in frustration. “Ellery, that describes just about every red wine in the valley, hell most of BC.” 

"Yeah, dead-end," Ellery replied. “The sample was exposed to the elements too long. Sorry Dex, that’s about it.” 
 

Gwynn was eating lunch in the wine cellar when his cell buzzed. It was Sally at the desk. “I got a guy from Vine Magazine on the line,” Sally exclaimed, quite excited. ”Kat told me to pass him on to you.”

“Wow,” Gwynn was surprised this was a big deal. “Sure Sally put him through.”

“Hello, Gwynn, it's Kendrick Chastain, a writer with Vines. I would just love to do a story on your little Cabernet. How bout I visit, interview you on-site, take some pix. Do the whole bio thing?”

Gwynn’s heart sped up.” Of course, sure, anytime.”

"Well splendid, let's do it then! I’ll get back on the particulars.”
 

Mallory and Dean pulled out a chair in the RCMP meeting room and sat at the meeting table. Sitting across from them, was District Prosecuting Attorney Mary Defoe. Dex turned to Fred and asked him to report his findings. 

“We got a break once Honrich’s body was discovered,” Fred began. “We were then able to access his finances. That told us he was deeply in debt. Since then, we've found he'd been desperate to sell his ownership of the winery, as it wasn’t doing well. Also to facilitate his growing debt, Honrich borrowed money from a loan shark out in Vancouver named Jorge Blackmore.” 

Fred walked to the blackboard. He chalked up Sunday, August 1, 2017, on the slate. “We’re now focusing on this date. It’s when Honrich went to the winery almost exactly three years ago. And when his two partners, Katerina and Uri Bablonski, admitted they had last seen him. He was then reported missing two weeks later. Then a month after that,” Fred went on, “Blackmore comes to Penticton. Why? We think he was looking for Honrich, then he goes missing also.”

Mary finished writing. She removed her reading glasses."Ok, what do you guys conclude?”

Dex crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair. “We believe Honrich met his demise the day he came out and confronted his business partners at the winery. We know there had been animosity between Uri and Honrich—there are rumors galore of their violent arguments. Maybe a fight ensued, then somehow Honrich's body, or just his hand wound up in a wine vat somehow. His partners decided to hide the body. Later Blackmore shows up to put the squeeze on them. He probably met the same fate.”

“That’s pretty wild,” Mary answered. “Can we prove that?”

“Well, we found Honrich’s ditched car, the GPS had been removed, but it still tells us the crime was committed in their area—probably that same day.

“We’d like to find Blackmore,” Fred added, “but we don't have his body. He's not even declared dead, just missing.” We can’t even prove he came out to the winery.” 

“You conducted a search of the winery premises,” Mary noted. “Anything there?”

“Not much, there were no security cameras. The day Honrich visited, was Sunday, with no staff around for witnesses. We were hoping we could’ve matched the wine on the victim’s hand to their vineyard, but the trace was too weak, too bad. We could have nailed their asses with that.”

Dex closed his notebook. “That’s where we are now. We have a good motive, with no other suspects. 

“What do you think Mary, do we have enough?”

Mary shook her head. “You have probable cause, lots of good circumstantial stuff here, but that’s all it is. You need more evidence on Honrich’s visit. It could be argued he was killed after he left the winery.”

“Alright then, Dex concluded. “We’ll keep looking and keep you posted.”
 

Sally Kellerman was now on the front desk almost full-time. The calls and visitor traffic were overwhelming for Kat. She now spent most of her time running financial affairs, which were becoming much more demanding. 

Then Ilsa Golonovich called. “Katerina,” Ilsa began. “So sorry I haven’t got back to you sooner, I’ve been so busy with Honrich’s death, and of course, so shocked."

 "Yes, Ilsa, we are here too.”

“Katerina, it seems Honrich has willed his share of the winery to me, but I know nothing of the wine business. I don’t know what to do?”

Kat held her breath this could be good. "How can I help you, Ilsa?" 

“I thought maybe we meet with the mortgage company and work out some kind of arrangement of sale if you are interested?”

"Yes, of course, Ilsa, when would you like to meet?" 

"I'm busy with the funeral right now, but I will get back when it's all settled." 

After Ilsa hung up, Kat went to the window and gazed upon the rolling vine-covered hills below. She smiled. Finally, at last, it was happening. This all could theirs now. No partner. 
 

Tuesday night was a good time for Inspectors Mallory and Dean to visit the little town of Oliver. They knew Tuesdays were always a slow time for business, so fewer distractions as they probed. Dex was working one side of the street, Fred the other. They could case the town faster that way. To question people three years after a crime has been committed was a long shot, but they had tried everything else. So now they would start close to the crime scene, then work their way out into the valley. 

Fred entered the Fire Hall Pub downtown and approached the bartender.

“Three years ago Sunday evening?" The man refected. "Yeah. I probably would have been on the bar then.” 

“I’m looking for a tall thin guy, mustache, dark leather coat, not from around here. He drove a black Mercedes. Probably paid cash.

“That’s pretty broad. No, sorry. I can’t recall that.”

“OK,” Fred signed. He headed for the door when suddenly a waitress approached. 

"I remember something like that."

Fred quickly came back. “Good, tell me.”

“Well there was this rude guy, he was pretty upset. That’s why I remember it.” 

Fred took out his notebook and pen. “Go on."

“He acted creepily, he sat in the restaurant waiting for this other guy to come and pick him up. But the guy never showed.”  

"Did he mention the guy's name?" 

"No. He just bitched. He sat here for hours, and then he had me call him a taxi. That was strange too, he wanted a ride clear back to Penticton?"

“That’s great.” Fred noted her nametag, “Maggie, see if you can remember the cab's name?" He took out his cell. "Dex, get over to the pub. I got something."
 

The end of the month was nearing, the first rain came early, the growing season was finishing, and the last of the summer wine was in the tanks and the barrels. Kat was now by herself in the office and tasting area. The staff was down to just the full-time workers. Uri still had much to do in the fields, because there were still rows of picked vines to prepare for the coming fall. Sally was not staying full time, she wasn’t needed for their decreased business affairs. That’s when a call came in. Kat took the call. 

“Katerina,” it's Ilsa she began, can you meet me in Kelowna? I'm flying in tomorrow. I can meet you at our bank mortgage office there. I’ll send you the details.

“Of course, Kat replied. See you there.”
 

A short, older, modestly dressed woman met Kat and Uri in the waiting room of their mortgage office in Kelowna.

The loan manager soon came out and met them. “I’m George McDonnel," He introduced himself. They entered his office, and George quickly got down to business. 

“I have prepared an intended offer of sale," he stated, handing a copy to Kat and Uri. “Ilsa has proposed transferring her share of your business over to you.”

Kat examined the proposal as the manager spoke.

“There is an outstanding debt against Ilsa’s ownership, which she has agreed to subtract from the value of her share.”

Kat and Uri read the amount of value as he spoke.

“Her share of the property has been assessed at one million seven, the amount still owing is $750,000, leaving her property assessment at just under one million.”

“Furthermore,” George went on, “Ilsa has agreed to price down her holdings, so the bank would accept it as a down payment for you to assume the loan.” He looked up at Kat and Uri. “We consider Ilsa’s offer very generous.”

Ilsa spoke. "I just want to get out from under it, Kat. I've hated Honrich’s irresponsible gambling. He made my life difficult, constantly hounding me to pay his debts. This will help me clear the board from his life, and move on.”  

Kat looked at George. “Do you mean we can assume the additional loan with no money down?”

“Yes. But of course, your existing loan payments will increase. However, with an extended refinanced mortgage, we think that will be easily assumed.”

Kat looked at Uri, he smiled. “Where do we sign?” 
 

It was a busy weekday when the Vine Magazine writer and crew showed up to do a story with Gwynn. The staff was excited, especially when the photographer started milling around, taking pictures. Kat and Uri were even happier; they now owned the winery outright.  Anne had called and informed them sales of their wine were climbing; it had been an excellent year for Liquid Lust Winery all around. 

But just as everything was rolling nicely, with a camera and interviews of staff going on, an RCMP car drove up. The timing was disastrous.

Kat ushered Inspector Mallory and Officer dean to the garden trellis. She seated the two detectives and called Uri up as they requested. 

“We have some problems,” Dex started off quite sternly. "And we need straight answers from you this time.” 

Kat looked a bit startled. “We've cooperated with you, Inspector."

“Have you? We believe a man named Jorge Blackmore had been up here to see you?”

Kat and Uri sat stunned. “Are you asking me?” Kat finally replied.

“Both of you. Do you know this man?"

Uri looked at Kat, “um, I’ve not heard the name.” He said.

“Me neither,” Kat also replied. “Who is he?”

“He’s an associate of your deceased ex-partner. He never mentioned that name to you?” 

“No,” Kat answered,” I’ve not heard of that name.”

“I believe you two are not being honest with me.” Dex accused them.

The two detectives then rose from the table. “We’ll leave it there then. If you two are lying to us, we'll be coming back." They got up and left.

“I think you just scared the shit out of them,” Fred said as they drove away from the winery. “It's a risky ploy, if we still don't know anything, we can’t bring any charges.” 

“Yes,” Dex agreed. “Hopefully it’ll scare them enough to make some mistakes.”
 

The rest of the morning was a time of mixed feelings for Kat. She had gone back to work, trying to keep her nerves from un-raveling. The magazine photo sessions were going on. She posed with forced smiles. But when noon came, she quickly retreated to the patio, poured a wine. And sat. Soon Uri was back from the fields.

“I think he knows something,” Kat allowed. “But if it were big, he would have pressed us more.”

"He was cocksure Kat. He’s trying to trap us, and soon he’ll be back.”

“We buried the body much farther away, Uri. They'll never find it."

“Kat, they found the last one.”

Kat pondered the situation, why were they pressing now all of a sudden, she wondered?

“Look Uri.” she finally answered, ”there’s nothing we can do. We sit tight. We may have to make plans should this escalate.”

Uri went back to the fields. Kat sat on the patio. A premonition was gripping her. She thought of the Inspector's last words. He had asked if Blackmore had been here. Uri was right, this time they knew something. 

She decided to wait until Uri returned, then tell him her thoughts. It was around seven when Uri brought his tractor up. They sat at the little table by the window. Here they had always solved their demons, but this day was different, no answer was coming. She brought out the good wine as always.

“The last of Lot-4 wine is doing well,” she mentioned. 

“Yes, it's good, it will bring us a nice profit soon.”

“That's what I think. Let's gather the staff all together in the morning the long weekend is coming. The staff knows the business well now.”

"What are you thinking, my Kat?” Uri sensed something in her tone.

Kat reached over and poured his glass. “Drink up Uri, I’ll tell you now, and then we can discuss our plans.”
 

The early Monday sun arose behind the eastern hills and peeked down upon the valley below. The green rows of grapevines soaked in the suns welcoming heat, shedding the cool mist from the night's sprinkling. Sally and the rest of the staff had arrived and taken their workplaces in the winery. They had the weekend off. They had worked hard, and the respite was good.

But Kat and Uri were nowhere to be seen. Sally used her keys to get into the office and found a typed note clipped to a file folder on her desk. She read the note: 
Sally. Please take this file and go to the Vintner building. Once there, summon Andre and Gwynn to meet you, then take out the notice inside and read its contents to them. Give them a copy of the enclosed documents. -Signed, Kat and Uri

Three very bewildered people had gathered in the open area of the main tank room. Sally had the folder in her hand. She opened it and took out the typed message inside. She began reading the note.

As of this reading, you are all promoted to full acting managers.

Andre. As well as Chief Vintner Master, you are now in charge of the fields, operations, and all production.

Gwynn. You are now the Cellar and Distribution Manager.

Sally.  I know you are reading this, so I speak to you directly. You are now in charge of all administration & the front office. I have absolute faith in you. Don’t let me down.

We have enclosed the notices for your salary raises, and access to business transactions with our accounting firm to assist you. We are taking a leave of absence. We are still controlling owners, but we will let you share in future profits. Please keep this note confidential. -Regards, Katerina And Uri Bablonsky

The three newly promoted employees spent the rest of the day regaling in their sudden fortune. But they were indeed confused. Their bosses, especially Uri, were total control freaks. It was so far out of reality, it was bizarre. But they were loyal, trustworthy employees. They would honor their employer’s wishes spelled out in the letter. 
 

 But Chief Inspector Mallory had other plans for the beginning of the week. He still had a case to investigate. "Let's try one more kick at the Kat,” he quipped to Fred. 

 Fred groaned, frowning at Dex’s bad joke. “It’s too early, we need more time.” 

"I think we should go out again, keep the pressure on," Dex insisted. “They’ve had all weekend to stew. Maybe they'll crack this time."

"Alright,” Fred replied. “I'll call and tell the winery we're coming.” 

He clicked Kat's number. Sally answered the phone.

 “Hello Sally, would you please tell Kat that we are coming back out for another talk."  

"I'm sorry, officer Dean," Sally replied, "Kat and Uri have left on an extended vacation." 

Mallory slammed down his phone, he was fuming. "They've run on us,” he ranted. "Freddy, you check with the airlines, I’ll call the border. Dammit! We should have pulled their passports.”

Fred brought up the airlines on his computer. He knew Uri, and Katerina were Chechen citizens. He scanned the scheduled flights for the Chechnya Republic. "Okay, I got it!" He yelled. Dex came quickly over.

"There’s a KLM flight that left Vancouver Saturday, for Amsterdam. Then it connected to Grozny, the Chechen Republic. I’ll call the airline and ask if they’re on it.” 

Fred reached the KLM desk. He gave them the names. He waited, nodded his head. He hung up. He looked up to Dex.

“They’re probably walking the streets of Grozny right now.” 

“Dammit. Alright then,” Dex groaned, “We’ll get more info. We’ll expedite their asses for unlawful flight." 

 "Sorry, Dex,” Fred replied, shaking his head. “Canada has no extradition treaty with the Chechen republic.”
 

Vine Magazine was out now, and the Liquid Lust Winery was the hot topic in the valleys wine chatter. Sally was extra busy. She had used her new authority to hire further help for the tasting patio. 

Over at police HQ in Penticton, Fred Dean stared at the pile of case studies he had on the Honrich murder case. They had found the Mercedes. Its ravaged hulk was discovered in a pile of other heaps, at a dumpsite. But no additional evidence was found.

Mary Defoe had advised they keep the case open, but they still didn’t have a precise charge. As to the winery, without a case, they couldn’t impound or close the winery. The title had been transferred over to the employees anyway. The winery continued to flourish. 

Andre LeShan’s favorite time of day was late afternoon, after work. He loved to sit and read the wine news of popular vineyards from around the world. 

It had been three years now since Uri and Kat had left, and he always hoped he might discover some news on their new life in their far off-world. 

One day he was looking to see who had claimed the Worlds Wine Enthusiasts award for that year. 

And there it was.

The first place prize had gone to a new winery from the Chechen Republic. He read on… 

The article’s writer likened the winner to a prized bottle he had found up in Canada, labeled, Uri’s Full-Bodied-Special Reserve. 

He described the winning wine as having a bold, meaty taste.

Author Notes

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