by Cat Chandler
“I would,” the chief said. “It was too early in the morning to be dealing with an irate boyfriend.”
“He’s not my…”
The chief held his hands out. “Okay. He’s not your boyfriend. Just an overly concerned friend who happens to be male. And told me he’s considering giving you an assignment to review a restaurant he’s particularly fond of… in Alaska.”
“Fine.” Nicki grumbled, dumping the last of her freshly ground coffee into the filter before plucking a bottle of water from underneath the counter.
“You use that expensive, bottled water for your coffee?” the chief asked.
“Because I enjoy good coffee. Ninety-eight percent of a cup of coffee is water.” Nicki finished pouring it into the tea kettle and lit the burner to heat it up before turning back to the group on the other side of the counter. “Now. Why did Matt call you?”
“Because last night you told him about your talk with Jeremy Brennan.”
Nicki’s eyebrows drew together. “So? I agreed to call him every night about our case.”
“My case, Nicki,” the chief said. “Well, apparently he thinks Brennan is an excellent candidate for being the murderer, and there you were, his girl, sorry, I meant his employee, talking with a killer like you were at a tea party.”
Nicki raised her hands, palms up and glanced over at Alex and Jenna. “What has gotten into him? Why would Matt call the chief at all, especially over something like that?”
“Because he wants to be your boyfriend,” Jenna repeated.
“Ty would do that if he thought I was talking to a murderer,” Alex said.
“Ladies, you can argue about it later. Boyfriend, only a friend or whatever he is, this Matt guy has a good point.” Chief Turnlow looked at Nicki. “I was coming out to talk to you anyway to let you know Jeremy Brennan came by the station yesterday afternoon to explain the argument he had with George Lancer. Brennan’s out the money he spent in preparing for the launch, but he’d stopped most of those expenses when he and Lancer got into their beef over the percentage stake in Trax. He might have a motive for wanting Lancer dead so he wouldn’t need to deal with the man bad-mouthing his business, but I’m not seeing the opportunity.”
Nicki’s mouth opened into a wide “O”.
“You mean how could he have poisoned the wine?” Alex aske.
Chief Turnlow nodded. “The owner of a rival winery would have been very noticeable wandering around in the back area of the building where he had no business being, unless he was escorted there. And all his time was accounted for at the event.”
“What about Bill Stacy? Is all his time accounted for too?” Nicki asked.
“Stay out of this, Nicki. A homicide investigation is no place for amateurs. Especially when the best suspect is a bookie.” The chief stood up just as the kettle on the stove started to sing. “Wish I had time to taste that coffee.”
“I always keep to-go cups, Chief.” Nicki opened a cupboard and grabbed one. “It will only take a minute for this to finish dripping.”
“Then I’ll take that minute to warn you again. Murder is no place for amateurs. And when you call that editor friend of yours tonight, like you promised you would, be sure to mention I stopped by. I have better things to do than talk to worried boyfriends.”
Nicki poured coffee into the cup and placed it on the counter. “Do you need cream or sugar?”
“No, thank you. I drink it black.”
She handed him the coffee accompanied with a stiff smile. “And Chief, he’s not my boyfriend.”
Chief Turnlow picked up the cup and lifted it in a short salute. “Thanks for this, Nicki. And remember what I said. Now I’m going to pay a visit to Maxie to tell her the same thing, and to let Mason know what his wife’s been up to. I really don’t care whether or not that’s politically correct.”
Silence reigned over the kitchen for several moments after the front door closed behind the chief.
Nicki stirred her coffee and looked over at Jenna and Alex.
Jenna grinned back at her. “Want to update the murder board?” she asked.
“Of course she does,” Alex said, picking up her cup and sliding off the stool.
“Of course I do,” Nicki echoed with a broad smile. “Just as soon as I call Maxie to warn her that the chief is headed her way, and then put together a cheese plate for us to munch on. I’ll make the French toast for lunch.”
“Perfect,” Alex said with a roll of her eyes. “Nothing like having a last meal before we’re dragged off to jail. Because if the chief catches us playing amateur detectives again, he probably will toss us in the clink and throw away the key.”
“After he tastes Nicki’s coffee I’m betting she can bribe our way out,” Jenna said with a shrug.
Nicki hung up the phone, laughing. “Maxie found an urgent errand that myMason has to do right now. She’ll be over as soon as she gets rid of the chief. Her words, not mine.”
“Gotta love her,” Jenna said. “Not sure why, at times, but still gotta love her.”
“I’ll get the cheese, you two go uncover the murder board,” Nicki directed.
Alex frowned. “Why is it covered up?”
“So Matt wouldn’t see it,” Nicki admitted. “He got all wonky about it, even after I told him it was Maxie’s idea.”
“Matt’s always wonky around you, period,” Jenna said before hurrying out the kitchen door when Nicki glared at her.
Five minutes later the three women were staring at the white board and nibbling on an excellent Brie and crackers.
“Who’s the best suspect?” Alex wondered, looking over the names. “And shouldn’t we add the bookie? What was his name?”
“Benzo,” Nicki said. She picked up the pen and wrote the name at the bottom of the list.
“Yoo-hoo?”
Maxie’s voice was followed by the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway. She stepped into the office and put her hands on her hips.
“Paul came by to give me that lecture. Imagine talking to his elders that way. What is this world coming to?” Maxie shook her head. “What are we doing?”
“Looking over our list of suspects,” Jenna said. “And eating cheese.”
“An excellent combination.” Maxie walked over and joined them in front of the murder board. “Now, who is that at the bottom?”
“The bookie,” Alex volunteered. “Chief Turnlow’s favorite suspect.”
Nicki wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so. Remember the three questions? Means, motive and opportunity? Mr. Benzo, or any of his cohorts, might have a motive if George owed them a lot of money, but how would they get into the room to poison the wine without anyone seeing them? And whoever heard of a hit man using poison? Why wouldn’t he simply shoot George when he was at home alone at night? I think the chief already knows all that, and he’s using the bookie slant to scare us off.”
“It’s certainly working on Matt,” Alex pointed out.
Jenna winked at Maxie. “Nicki’s mad because Matt called Chief Turnlow wanting to know how dangerous this investigation is, and mentioned sending her on an assignment to Alaska.”
“Oh, that’s not surprising, dear.” Maxie smiled at Nicki. “It’s obvious the poor man wants to be your boyfriend.”
“We know,” Alex and Jenna sang out.
Tired of hearing about Matt and the status of a relationship that didn’t even exist, Nicki picked up the snack plate and held it away from the group. “We either drop the whole Matt thing and get back to our suspects, or you’ve had your last bite of cheese and crackers.”
“You play dirty, Nicki,” Jenna complained. “But all right. Back to the suspect list and not another word about Matt. At least not today. Unless, of course, you bring up his name.”
Nicki set the plate down and turned to the board.
“We have the three winery owners,” she began, looking over the list. “Jeremy who George threatened to dump and then ruin his winery’s reputation the same
way he did to Bill a decade ago.”
“But George’s death means he’s lost out on all the revenue and publicity from being the sponsor of George’s special blend,” Alex pointed out.
“But now he can keep his winery all to himself,” Nicki said. “Jeremy could have poisoned the wine, but he’d run a big risk of being seen in an area of Holland he shouldn’t be in. And all his time is accounted for at the event, according to the chief.”
“Then there’s Jim Holland.” Jenna squinted at the board from behind her oversized lenses. “He wanted to replace George, and with his winemaker dead, Jim will probably get to keep the special blend and not have to pay out the termination clause in George’s contract.”
“Which Bill Stacy said was a big sum of money,” Nicki pointed out. “Jim could have easily poisoned the wine, since it’s his winery.”
“But it doesn’t seem smart to do that at your own place and your own event,” Alex said. “And what about Bill Stacy?”
“Bet he had a grudge with George, big time,” Jenna said.
“Over The White Crown going under because of George’s gossip?” Nicki pursed her lips and considered Bill’s name on the board. “I don’t know if all his time at the event is accounted for, but he’d have the same problem poisoning the wine as Jeremy would. How to sneak into George’s private aging room without being noticed? But he is definitely on my list to visit next.”
“Then there’s Geri and Kurt, both of whom were treated badly by George, and either could be anywhere in the winery and no one would pay any attention since they work there,” Nicki said.
“Are hurt feelings really enough motive to commit a murder?” Alex asked.
“Well, George never did anything to help Geri’s career along,” Nicki said. “But neither has Jim Holland, and he’s still alive.”
“And let’s not forget Stella,” Maxie put in. “The former girlfriend George had a fight with, according to Jeremy Brennan.”
“We’ll need to track her down,” Nicki agreed.
“I already have, dear. She recently took a position on the morning shift at Sandy’s diner.”
Alex laughed. “Isn’t that the job Fran, the clerk at the police station, thought I should try to land?”
“Sounds like you’re out of luck. Stella beat you to it.” Nicki grinned at her friend.
“Too bad, Dr. Kolman soon-to-be Dr. Newman. It would’ve been a nice back-up for you if this whole medical thing doesn’t work out,” Jenna chuckled.
“Such a shame,” Maxie agreed amid the laughter. “Well, it appears we have our to-do list. First, we should to talk to Bill Stacy, and then to Stella.”
“Which I’ll get started on tomorrow,” Nicki said. “Today I need to finish that article for M…” She stopped herself when Jenna sent her a wicked smile.
“For my editor,” Nicki finished. She’d already decided to send the article tonight along with an email telling Matt she was going to bed and wouldn’t be calling him.
Chapter Eighteen
“You didn’t talk to Matt last night?” Alex asked. “I thought you two had a deal that you would call him every night?”
Nicki grimaced, but kept her eyes on the road. Thanks to Alex being used to working all hours, they’d managed an early start and were only a few minutes away from Todos Winery, where they were hoping to catch Bill Stacy by surprise.
“I wimped out and sent him an email telling him I was going to bed and wouldn’t be calling.”
“He probably thinks you’re mad at him for talking to Chief Turnlow,” Alex said.
“Then he’d be very perceptive because I am mad at him for calling the chief, and for saying he can order me to go to Alaska on an assignment,” Nicki sniffed. It really was arrogant of Matt to believe she’d just up and leave in the middle of something obviously important to her. Otherwise she wouldn’t be spending so much of her time on it when she should be working on her newest Tyrone Blackstone novel.
“Is that the only reason? Because you’re mad at him?”
Biting her lip, Nicki gripped the wheel of her little Toyota a little harder. “No. All that talk about him wanting to be my boyfriend weirded me out.”
Alex laughed and gave her a light punch in the arm. “Half the men you meet want to be your boyfriend, and we simply ignore what the other half wants. Matt’s a very responsible, caring kind of guy. He’d have the same concern for any of his employees.”
“Well, that’s true.” Nicki’s mood picked up at the thought. So her editor might have had a fantasy or two on occasion. It’s not like she didn’t either. After all, he’s good-looking, in a nerdy way. And she liked nerds. It was natural and perfectly harmless if you looked at it as a temporary-imaginary-only thing.
“It is true,” Alex nodded. “Of course, he wouldn’t care at the same intensity he shows for you, but…”
“Quiet shall now reign in the car,” Nicki declared, glancing over at her friend. “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
They passed another vehicle coming out of the Todos driveway as they were pulling in.
“Well someone sure gets an early start on their winery tours,” Alex commented as they slid by the small compact with faded blue paint.
Nicki frowned and pulled into the nearest parking spot in the empty lot. Quickly opening the door and stepping onto the gravel, she watched the other car disappear around a bend in the road.
“What?” Alex said as she climbed out of the passenger seat. She turned her head to peer in the same direction as Nicki. “What are you looking at?”
“Geri Gant, unless I’m mistaken. And I don’t think I am.” Nicki’s brows lowered. What was the assistant winemaker from Holland’s doing here at this hour of the morning?
“Checking out the competition?” Alex guessed before stifling a yawn. “Let’s get this over with so we can do some serious sampling at the tasting rooms around the square. I promised Tyler I’d have the wine for our wedding picked out by the time I came home. It’s the excuse I gave him for coming back so soon and for so long.”
“Okay. Let’s go,” Nicki said. She grinned at her friend as they walked along the path toward the public tasting room. “Since when have you considered four days a long time? Is that all you can stand being away from your hunky fireman?”
“Or all he can stand being away from his hot fiancée,” Alex countered. “Besides, he’s working extra shifts this next week since he’s changed his mind about the honeymoon again. Now he wants to go snorkeling in Belize.”
“When did you take up snorkeling?”
Alex laughed. “When I met a hunky fireman. Thank heavens for videos on YouTube so I could at least talk coherently on the subject. He’ll spend a lot more time at it than I intend to. There will be a beach, a lounge chair and several drinks with little umbrellas in them calling my name that I simply won’t be able to ignore.”
“Sounds like the perfect plan to me,” Nicki said. She pulled open one side of the double glass doors leading into the tasting room, that, according to the hours posted on the wall, had only opened five minutes ago. Hopefully the owner was already at his desk, working away.
The two women walked into the charming stucco-and-pink space, which had the definite vibe of a cozy cantina. Nicki spotted a lone server stacking glasses behind the circular bar in the center of the room.
She walked up and leaned against the gleaming wood top and smiled at the woman who barely looked old enough to be pouring wine. “Hi.”
“Can I help you?” The server’s long bangs didn’t quite cover the diamond-looking stud over one eyebrow.
“Yes, thank you. I’m here to see Bill Stacy.”
The girl with a flat, thin fall of blond hair trickling down her back blinked at Nicki. “Okay. I think I saw his car out back. Um. Do you have an appointment?”
“Not exactly,” Nicki improvised. “But we spoke at a Holland’s tasting event and he asked me to stop by anytime.” Nicki couldn’t remember if Bill Stacy had
said that, but she was sure he would have if he’d had the chance.
“I write for Food & Wine Online,” she threw in for good measure.
“Okay.” The server looked over at Alex.
“I’m a doctor,” Alex supplied.
“Of what?” the girl asked. “I mean, a couple of my teachers at the college are doctors. The one I have right now for Modern English Lit is one.”
Alex shot Nicki a sideways glance when her friend raised her hand to hide a smile. “I’m one of those doctors you’d see if you went to a hospital.”
“Oh.” The server went back to looking bored, but at least she walked to the other side of the bar and picked up the phone.
Nicki could only hear one side of the conversation, which consisted of a couple of single-syllable words, but as soon as the girl hung up she turned around and smiled at Alex.
“Bill says to come right up. The stairs are through that door over there.” She pointed toward the other side of the room. “His office is at the end of the hallway.”
Once they were in the stairwell, Nicki poked Alex in the back. “I guess being a doctor counts more than a lowly writer.”
“Well, she knew other doctors. She probably doesn’t know any other writers,” Alex pointed out. Then she winked at her friend. “Or she thinks doctors are smarter than writers. It’s a common misconception.”
“Funny,” Nicki muttered.
The fact that Alex was much better at school than Nicki went without saying. But to be fair, Alex always maintained that there were a lot of other ways to be smart than just in a classroom. Given how many times she’d had to rescue her friend, the extremely intelligent doctor, from awkward social situations, Nicki had to agree with that. Then there was the time Alex had been robbed because she decided walking through a shabby part of New York City at three in the morning was a good shortcut to take after her long shift at the hospital. Nicki had lectured the not-so-street-smart doctor for over an hour after that one.
“Where did she say his office was?” Alex peered down the dimly lit hallway as Nicki climbed the last stair.
“At the end of the hallway.” Nicki stepped around Alex right when the door opened and Bill appeared with a smile on his face.