Aged for Malice Read online

  AGED FOR MALICE

  (A Tuscan Vineyard Cozy Mystery—Book Seven)

  FIONA GRACE

  Fiona Grace

  Fiona Grace is author of the LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books; of the TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY series, comprising seven books; of the DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY series, comprising three books; of the BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY series, comprising six books; and of the CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY series, comprising nine books.

  Fiona would love to hear from you, so please visit www.fionagraceauthor.com to receive free ebooks, hear the latest news, and stay in touch.

  Copyright © 2021 by Fiona Grace. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Samot, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  BOOKS BY FIONA GRACE

  LACEY DOYLE COZY MYSTERY

  MURDER IN THE MANOR (Book#1)

  DEATH AND A DOG (Book #2)

  CRIME IN THE CAFE (Book #3)

  VEXED ON A VISIT (Book #4)

  KILLED WITH A KISS (Book #5)

  PERISHED BY A PAINTING (Book #6)

  SILENCED BY A SPELL (Book #7)

  FRAMED BY A FORGERY (Book #8)

  CATASTROPHE IN A CLOISTER (Book #9)

  TUSCAN VINEYARD COZY MYSTERY

  AGED FOR MURDER (Book #1)

  AGED FOR DEATH (Book #2)

  AGED FOR MAYHEM (Book #3)

  AGED FOR SEDUCTION (Book #4)

  AGED FOR VENGEANCE (Book #5)

  AGED FOR ACRIMONY (Book #6)

  AGED FOR MALICE (Book #7)

  DUBIOUS WITCH COZY MYSTERY

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF MURDER (Book #1)

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF CRIME (Book #2)

  SKEPTIC IN SALEM: AN EPISODE OF DEATH (Book #3)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY COZY MYSTERY

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A KILLER CUPCAKE (Book #1)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A MURDEROUS MACARON (Book #2)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A PERILOUS CAKE POP (Book #3)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A DEADLY DANISH (Book #4)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A TREACHEROUS TART (Book #5)

  BEACHFRONT BAKERY: A CALAMITOUS COOKIE (Book #6)

  CATS AND DOGS COZY MYSTERY

  A VILLA IN SICILY: OLIVE OIL AND MURDER (Book #1)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: FIGS AND A CADAVER (Book #2)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: VINO AND DEATH (Book #3)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: CAPERS AND CALAMITY (Book #4)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: ORANGE GROVES AND VENGEANCE (Book #5)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: CANNOLI AND A CASUALTY (Book #6)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: SPAGHETTI AND SUSPICION (Book #7)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: LEMONS AND A PREDICAMENT (Book #8)

  A VILLA IN SICILY: GELATO AND A VENDETTA (Book #9)

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  The kitchen table in Olivia Glass’s farmhouse was covered in papers. Area plans of various shapes and sizes were crowded over the polished wooden boards. Olivia stared down at the maps, her brain abuzz with excitement. She felt desperate to uncover the clues hidden in the labyrinths of squiggles and lines.

  Thanks to the finds that she’d made since buying the derelict property, Olivia was certain that a collection of old wines was stashed away in a secret place. Would the collection be small or large? Would it be worthless, or contain prized treasures of great historic value? She had no idea which would be the truth, until she found it.

  Peering at the papers, she couldn’t even make out where the farmhouse was. Her talents were in the creative, intuitive fields, and she was a hopeless map reader. She never knew where north was, and at critical moments – like when arriving at a busy intersection – she had a terrible habit of confusing left and right.

  Luckily Danilo, her boyfriend, was a brilliant map reader. He’d first picked up the clues drawn into the label of the old wine bottle Olivia had found in her barn. He’d realized that these seemingly random lines were in fact the missing part of the map they’d found in the store room high in the hills.

  Now he was leaning over her shoulder, absorbed by the challenge, the streak of pink in his dark hair tickling her cheek. The pink wasn’t his choice. His niece was a hairdresser. Two weeks ago, she’d created the stunning blond color that Olivia now sported. She was thrilled with the multi-faceted tones of honey, platinum, and sand that shimmered in her hair.

  “This is the road going past your farm. Here it is on the big area plan. And here it is on your wine label.” Danilo pointed from one to the other and Olivia nodded wisely despite the fact she couldn’t see where the lines overlapped at all.

  “So now.” Danilo drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Now we need to find a more detailed plan. This one is still too general. I need to work out where this contour line goes.”

  A contour line? That sounded like a very vague guideline, Olivia worried. What if it wasn’t going to be possible to pinpoint the exact spot? She worried that this entire project might end up being nothing more than a disappointing waste of time.

  From the lounge, her friend Charlotte’s voice rang out. Olivia looked up, beaming as she heard it.

  “Who’s a good kitty? You, Bagheera. You’re a good kitty! I can see how happy you are there, on your blanket by the radiator. You must be patient. Mom will be back soon.”

  A moment later, Charlotte sauntered into the kitchen, grinning in delight as she shook back her long, red-streaked hair.

  “How amazing is it to have a video call with my own cat? The house sitter I hired after extending my stay here adores him. Bagheera’s doing great with her. Although I could tell he was missing me.”

  “Well, you’ve been in Italy nearly three weeks longer than planned. You’ll have some apologizing to do,” Olivia joked.

  Charlotte gave an expressive shrug.

  “Circumstances out of my control, I’m
afraid.”

  “Exactly,” Olivia sympathized. “A whirlwind holiday romance, and a whole new set of local work projects, could never have been predicted.”

  She was thrilled that her bestie was still in Tuscany after extending her air travel visit. Imagine if she moved here? Charlotte had already realized she was going to have to spend a lot more time here for work. She was the content and site manager for an online supplier of international goods, gifts, and luxury hampers to the States. Thanks to demand, the company had started to specialize in the Mediterranean region and needed to source more products and information from the area.

  “What’s going on with the map?”

  Charlotte leaned over Olivia’s other shoulder. Danilo had folded two of the maps so that the relevant sections were next to each other, and placed the wine label beside them. He was carefully marking off points on the biggest map using a finely sharpened pencil.

  Glancing at Danilo’s eyes, dark and intense in his handsome face, Olivia saw he was completely focused on his task. A carpenter and woodworker by trade, Danilo knew all about the importance of perfection in his craft. Now he was applying the same skills to solving the puzzling clues.

  But it seemed that they’d reached a stumbling block. Danilo gave a disappointed sigh.

  “We need a larger scale map. This one is just not detailed enough to pinpoint the location.”

  Olivia nodded, feeling devastated that the answers were so near, but yet so far. What could be done, she wondered. She couldn’t dig up her whole farm in the search. It was a vineyard, not a mine!

  In fact, a week ago, she’d gotten in a team of contractors and plowed and planted several acres within the hilly terrain. She’d spent all her available money on this project, which included installing expensive irrigation pipes, even though she was uneasily aware that it stretched her to her limits. She’d become used to living in the red, with no cash reserves at all. Those precious grapevine seeds in the ground were her hopes and dreams for the future. She’d chosen the sites with care, using the experience she’d gained to decide in which area the local Sangiovese grapes would grow best and on which slopes the vermentino grapes, that preferred cooler conditions, would thrive.

  She couldn’t afford to tear up a planted area in the vague hope that some bottles were buried underneath. Not when these seeds would take two years to become viable, wine-producing vines.

  Suddenly, she remembered, with a leap of her heart.

  “I have a more detailed map! They gave me a large scale site map and house plan when I bought the farm. I stowed it away upstairs and forgot all about it.”

  Olivia hurtled up the staircase to the second floor, which consisted of two pretty bedrooms with gorgeous views over the rolling Tuscan countryside, and a shared bathroom.

  She stormed into her bedroom. Her black-and-white cat, Pirate, curled up on the yellow duvet, raised her head and stared at Olivia. Pirate was clearly annoyed by this untimely interruption, Olivia thought, as she grabbed the folded map from the bottom of the wardrobe drawer where she’d put it away months ago.

  After rubbing Pirate’s head in apology, she ran downstairs again.

  “Here you go,” she announced, placing the detailed map on the table.

  “This is exactly what we needed. Let us see if we can find answers now.” Danilo squeezed her arm affectionately before turning his focus back to the pages.

  “Is that a river?” Charlotte asked curiously, pointing to a wavy mark on the map.

  “It is a contour line,” Danilo explained, and Olivia suppressed a snort of laughter that her bestie’s map reading skills were clearly on par with her own.

  “Follow the contour,” Danilo murmured to himself, and now she could hear excitement in his voice. His pencil stabbed decisively into a blank area of the property map.

  “It’s there? You’re sure?” Olivia asked, her voice squeaky with excitement. Was it really possible that Danilo had managed to interpret the sketchy information on the wine label and pinpoint the exact place?

  He nodded. “The three points are a triangle. It covers a very small area, nestled behind a hill in the north of your farm. My feeling is that the central point of the triangle will be the place to start. If we don’t find anything, we can examine each outer point as well.”

  “Shall we go?” Charlotte asked. “We don’t need a flashlight, do we? It should stay light for a while. The afternoons are getting longer now, and so much warmer!”

  “Spring is here,” Olivia agreed, as Danilo opened the kitchen door, which led out to a paved courtyard surrounded by herbs. Olivia had painstakingly tiled and planted the area herself. At the far end of the courtyard was the Wendy house where her goat, Erba, lived. And beyond that was a pathway winding through the grasses and shrubs into the wild, rolling terrain of her farm.

  No wonder it had been so expensive to plow up, fertilize, irrigate, and plant such rugged land, Olivia thought, as she powered out of the door, hot on Danilo’s heels.

  “I’m getting my sandals!” Charlotte shouted. “You go ahead and I’ll catch up!”

  As Olivia jogged over the rocky and uneven path, she was overtaken by a determined orange and white goat. Erba must have been nosing around the fragrant oregano bushes near the closest vine plantation. Now, Olivia was impressed by her goat’s turn of speed. She was clearly delighted that her family had decided to go for an impromptu run.

  “I’m on my way!” she heard Charlotte yell breathlessly behind her as she crested the hill. Pausing for a moment, Olivia admired the dramatic view of her farm, feeling satisfied that it had achieved a new character with some of its rolling wildness tamed and planted.

  Danilo charged down the hill, neck and neck with Erba. Veering away from the path, he headed to one of the most rugged areas within her farm.

  “It’s here! Just over this ridge!” he shouted. Scrambling over the hill, he disappeared from sight.

  Olivia followed, feeling breathless with excitement.

  Just a few more steps and she would reach the place where she was sure the wine collection was hidden. In another moment, her hopes and dreams would become reality and she would uncover the secrets her farm had kept hidden for so long.

  With her heart pounding, she scrambled up the slope.

  CHAPTER TWO

  When Olivia reached the top, she stopped. Breathing hard, she stared – first in disbelief, and then in dismay.

  There was a reason why this part of her farm was so remote and unexplored, and why she’d never considered planting vines there.

  A huge, big, immovable reason.

  Gazing at the massive boulders that filled her view, Olivia felt her hopes crumble around her. The map must have been a red herring. All their work, all their excitement, had been for nothing.

  Her farm would keep its secrets forever. Nothing of any value could possibly be buried in this crowded, rock-strewn area.

  “Well? Can you see a building or anything?” Charlotte puffed out the words as she climbed up to join her. Olivia turned, and on seeing the disappointment in her face, Charlotte’s shoulders slumped.

  “There’s no way anything can be buried here,” Olivia said sadly.

  She gestured to the piles of boulders that littered the small valley.

  They literally covered every yard of ground. In some places, they were piled so high that Danilo, who was scrambling over the unforgiving terrain, was completely hidden from view.

  “Oh, no,” Charlotte said, and now she sounded just as devastated as Olivia felt.

  From behind the large pile, a cheeky orange and white face appeared. A moment later, Erba sprang adventurously onto the biggest heap. Olivia stared in wonderment as her sure-footed goat picked her way to the top of the mini mountain, and stood there, peering down at them with a quizzical expression on her face.

  Olivia couldn’t help but laugh, glad to find some comic relief in this frustrating situation. Charlotte rolled her eyes.

  “Your goat’s such a ch
aracter,” she observed. “But you’re right. Nobody would bury a stash of old wines under all those boulders. It seems like the whole map is just a practical joke, leading you to the most inhospitable area of the farm. Perhaps the original owners drank all the wine and didn’t have any left to put away.”

  She sighed sadly.

  Olivia caught sight of Danilo once more. He was moving around the giant boulders, holding the map, his face intent. Clearly, he was doing his best to triangulate the exact spot, despite the massive barriers in his way.

  The freshening wind tugged at Olivia’s hair, blowing the multicolored blond strands over her face, and she smoothed it back with her hand. The sun was starting to set, sinking into the faraway forested hills. She glanced back at her farmhouse. Perched on a ridge a few hundred yards away, the modest stone building was bathed in golden light. The olive and ash trees overlooking the jewel-green growth of her first vine plantation looked stately and majestic.

  The beauty of the scenery comforted Olivia. Her farm was the most gorgeous place in the entire world. Never mind the frustrating mystery of the old treasures. That wasn’t why she’d bought the land. She’d bought it so that she could live in the quaint, comfortable farmhouse that now felt like home, and do her best to nurture the land into a productive wine farm.

  Step by step she was getting there, even if her progress was frustratingly slow. In two more years, she could have several small commercial batches of Sangiovese, vermentino, and blended red wine ready for market. If there was another fall frost, which was likely in her high-lying farm, she could harvest the wild vines and make another ice wine, hoping to replicate the surprising success of the first one she’d made.

  “It’s ironic that such a big rock fall occurred right here,” Charlotte sighed, clearly less willing to let go of the idea than Olivia was.

  Olivia stared at the boulders again. They loomed dark as the sun began to set beyond them. A sudden suspicion had occurred to her.