Once inside the cool storage cave, Garrity grunted in dismay. “Where are you taking me? It’s filthy dirty in here.”
Maybe I’d been working too hard lately, because I had little patience for this man. Guru Bob had to have told him that he was going to be inside a wine cave. And, as caves went, this one was pretty much pristine. And well ventilated. I glanced around. Yes, the cement floor was swept clean, and the wine barrels were in a perfectly straight line against the walls. The cavernous space was well lighted. What was he complaining about?
“And what’s that awful smell?” he asked, sniffing and looking around.
“That’s the smell of expensive red wine,” I said, biting my tongue not to add, And you’ll never taste a drop of it, as God is my witness.
“Good thing I don’t drink.”
Aha! There was one more reason to hate him. And it was probably the reason why he was so unlikable. After spending less than five minutes with the appraiser, I was pretty sure I knew why Guru Bob had rushed off. What I wanted to know was, why did he hire him in the first place? Curmudgeonly didn’t begin to describe Noland Garrity.
Derek continued walking to the end of the big room where the excavated hole had been enlarged. I noticed a step stool leading up to the opening and realized that sometime during the last few days, Derek had placed it there to help the people from Frenchman’s Hill climb over the eighteen-inch ledge and step down into the chamber.
At the opening, Derek stopped and turned to Garrity. “I hope you’re not claustrophobic, because this space we’re about to enter is small and the air is a bit stale. I assure you the air is clean, but the space has been sealed up for about seventy years.”
Garrity pressed his white handkerchief to his mouth and nose. “I can barely breathe already, and you’re saying it’ll be worse?”
“Yes, because it’s a smaller enclosure. But there’s plenty of air. You won’t suffocate,” he added dryly.
“Is that supposed to be some kind of a joke?”
“Not really,” Derek said. “On the positive side, the artwork and furnishings have been sealed up as well, so their condition hasn’t deteriorated.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Indeed,” Derek said affably. I didn’t know how he managed to stay so upbeat. I was ready to strangle the jerk.
“Here we go,” Derek said, and easily stepped over the wall.
“Wait a minute,” Garrity said, stopping at the wall. He bent over the low ledge, trying to get a look at where he was about to venture. All of a sudden he began to wobble and couldn’t quite right himself. “Whoa.”
“Mr. Garrity, are you all right?”
“Uhh . . .”
Was he having a heart attack? I grabbed him by his belt and yanked him back from the cave opening.
He stumbled, then righted himself. It took him a few long seconds to recover his dignity, and, once he did, he gave me a look of pure contempt. “How dare you grab me like that?”
“The way you were moaning and swaying, I thought you were going to pass out.”
“Look at my shirt. It’s filthy.” He slapped the white polo shirt to get the dirt out, but he only made it worse.
And I thought Amelia was crabby. This guy could give her lessons. I couldn’t believe I’d thought he was handsome only minutes ago. Just went to show that my mother was right again. Handsome is as handsome does. This guy was the poster boy for that old cliché.
On his second try, he managed to make it over the wall and into the chamber. “What in the world?” His voice echoed in the small chamber. “Are there rats? It smells moldy back here.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I said, stepping easily into the space. “It’s actually very clean, and there are no rats anywhere. My mother swept every inch of it two days ago. And if you dare say one word about my mother, I will smack you—”
“Darling, Mr. Garrity would never say anything about your mother, now would you, Mr. Garrity?” Derek said, trying to calm me down while subtly warning Garrity to shut his piehole if he didn’t have anything nice to say.
Garrity ignored him. “When Robson told me there was a cave, I didn’t think I’d actually have to climb into it. He lied to me.”
“Robson doesn’t lie,” Derek said, his tone deceptively mild.
The man lifted one weary shoulder. “Whatever.”
I knew Derek was generally more patient than I was, but how could he tolerate this man? My respect and admiration for Derek’s tolerance were growing to biblical proportions.
Ignoring the appraiser, Derek maneuvered around the small enclosure, flipping on the set of lights he’d mounted onto the five-foot light tower at the far end of the chamber. I noticed that unlike on the day Robin and I took pictures, the extension cords were tucked safely along the bottom edges of the cave. Derek had been very busy when I wasn’t looking.