by Cat Chandler
“The lab report, of course. Anyone could see that.” Frances lifted her cane and pointed it at the dark-haired, poised and confident Alex who was sitting beside Nicki. “And a good thing there was a doctor right there to know what all those words and numbers meant.”
From the corner of her eye, Nicki saw Alex’s mouth curve into what her friends always called her “polite doctor smile”, something Alex insisted every physician had to perfect at some point in their training. Jenna had even begun keeping a list of what she’d labeled the “secret doctor classes” that she was sure Alex had taken in medical school, which besides the “Smile Politely” entry, also included “How to Write Anything and Everything So No One Else Can Read It”. Nicki loved the list, and although she stuck to expressing outrage at such a ridiculous notion as “secret doctor classes”, Nicki knew that Alex was amused by Jenna’s list, too.
“Well, ladies, I think our fearless member, Nicki Connors, along with her two friends, Jenna and Alex, did a wonderful job of discovering the truth about George Lancer’s murder,” Maxie announced. “Don’t you?”
Her comment led to another round of enthusiastic applause, and even Frances joined in, as she smiled and nodded at the three women sitting at the head table set up on Maxie’s back patio. The surrounding garden was a burst of color and beauty, a testament to the master gardener who tended to it, who was also Maxie’s husband, Mason Edwards, a retired police chief.
“As a well-known food and wine writer, and the writer of a wonderful series of spy novels, Nicki, of course, is a prominent member of our society,” Maxie went on while Nicki fought not to roll her eyes. Pronouncing her as a “well-known writer” and “prominent member” of the Society was, as far as Nicki was concerned, a bit of a stretch.
“So she already has her purple hat and quill.” Maxie touched her own hat with a highly polished fingernail as every head in the audience, all of whom were wearing that very same, deep-purple hat with an attached quill made from a lavender colored feather, bobbed in agreement. “But I would like to move to extend an honorary membership to both Jenna Lindstrom and Alex Kolman.”
Nicki poked Jenna in her side when the self-proclaimed computer geek groaned out loud. Luckily the sound was drowned out by another round of enthusiastic applause. When Maxie held out hats to Alex and Jenna, they both exchanged a glance before staring at Nicki. She caught their message easily enough.
“Burgers and zucchini fries for our next lunch together if you’ll put on the hats.” Nicki whispered her standard bribe for her friends. Alex nodded and carefully settled the purple Robin Hood hat, with its feathery quill sticking up from the brim, onto her head. Jenna, however, continued to stare at her friend.
“Fine,” Nicki said. “I won’t forget the homemade ketchup with sriracha sauce.”
“And the hand cut fries with sea salt for me, plus the garlic sautéed vegetables for Alex,” Jenna whispered back.
Nicki shot her a skeptical look. “That’s a lot to expect just to wear a hat for a few minutes.”
“A hat that will instantly turn me into some kind of mutant Santa’s elf.”
Tall, thin, with a mop of long, dark, tightly curled hair, and brown eyes looking out from behind the lenses of oversized glasses, Jenna was right in claiming she was going to look ridiculous wearing that too-small-for-her-height hat.
The hat will probably get lost in all that hair, so all we’ll see is a giant lavender feather sticking out of Jenna’s head. Nicki grinned at the mental image and nodded. “French fries and vegetables it is. Now, put the thing on.”
Jenna sighed and plopped the hat on her head to the smiles and calls of congratulations from the group of ladies sitting at tastefully decorated tables scattered all around the patio.
Alex leaned over and smiled at Jenna. “You look great, and thanks for throwing in those vegetables for me.”
“I’m glad you’re a better doctor than you are a negotiator,” Jenna said, relenting enough in her annoyance to smile and wave at their audience.
Maxie rose and came to stand behind Nicki’s chair. She put her arms around Jenna’s and Alex’s shoulders as she leaned in between them. She smiled as Chloe Johnson, the historian for the Society, snapped pictures with her iPhone, and whispered, “I hope you both know that I expect you to share in that bounty from Nicki’s kitchen. We’re so fortunate to have such a highly trained, gourmet chef among us.”
Jenna turned her head and frowned at her hostess. “Why should we share? They’re your hats.”
“Oh good heavens, dear. You can’t believe I would pick out such a thing. It was voted on by the entire group.” Maxie kept her voice low. “They were so enthralled with the idea, there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop them. Of course, as president, I did explain it was proper that I should vote only in case of a tie. Fortunately there was no need, so I didn’t have to go on record as having given my approval of such a fashion challenge.” She straightened and nodded at Chloe. “I’m sure that’s more than enough pictures, dear. Shall we get on with the mix and mingle part of our meeting?”
For the next half-hour Nicki juggled questions about the murder she and her friends had recently solved, with equally enthusiastic inquiries about the soon-to-be-released exploit of Tyrone Blackstone, the very hunky, and completely imaginary, super-spy hero of her novels. She’d finally managed to find a quiet spot to take a breath when Suzanne Abbott and Catherine Dunton walked up and effectively trapped her in the corner.
Suzanne, who’d been dedicating herself for the last two years to becoming the best cook in the entire Society, constantly badgered Nicki for tips and advice, while her inseparable friend, Catherine, was a financial advisor who persistently tried to persuade anyone she thought had name recognition to sign on as one of her clients. For those reasons alone, Nicki tended to do her best to avoid them. But today it seemed she was out of luck.
Putting on her politest smile, and steeling herself for at least ten minutes of deflecting questions and a sales pitch, Nicki held out her hand in greeting.
“Hello, Suzanne.” She shook the woman’s hand and turned to her constant companion. “Catherine. How are you?”
“Busy,” Catherine smiled. “Now that the divorce is final, at last, I can concentrate on my new business venture.” She gave Nicki an apologetic look. “I won’t be able to take on any new clients for a while. I’m very sorry.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Nicki hastily assured her. She had to respect the way Catherine had made it sound as if Nicki had been begging to become one of her clients. “I completely understand.” She sent the pretty, middle-aged, frosted blond a genuinely sympathetic smile. “Rebuilding your life after a divorce can’t be easy. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
Catherine’s gray eyes opened wider and she blinked several times before she finally nodded. “Thank you. That’s a very kind offer.” She gave Nicki a wink. “Let me know the next time you’re going to bring that handsome boyfriend into Mario’s, and I’ll be sure you have the best table in the house.”
Now it was Nicki who blinked. Mario’s was one of the better restaurants off the central square in the nearby town of Arson. Picturesque, and known for its many food, wine and art festivals, Arson boasted a very unusual mix of building styles around its central square, which featured a ten-foot-high, bronze statue of wine grapes. The small town acquired its name from one of its more prominent citizens who had tried to burn it down more than a hundred years ago. Set in the heart of the Northern California wine country, Arson was a quiet wine-tasting stop for most tourists who were on their way to the better-known town of Sonoma, located another fifteen minutes down the road. But along with the wine tasting rooms run by most of the local wineries, Mario’s Italian cuisine also drew in tourists and the locals alike. Nicki had been there often since she’d moved to the area over two years ago, and enjoyed both the food and chatting with the restaurant’s owner, Mario Vincenzio.
“Rob and I do go to
Mario’s whenever he’s in town,” Nicki said. “Is Mario a client of yours?”
“A partner,” Catherine said, her voice tinged with pride. “I’ve invested in his restaurant.”
“Oh?” Nicki looked over at Suzanne who nodded her confirmation. “I didn’t know Mario was looking for investors.”
“Just one, and I’m it.” Catherine lifted her hands in a “ta-dah” gesture.
“That’s great.” Nicki smiled. “It sounds really exciting, and I’m sure it’s a wonderful investment. Mario is a fantastic chef.”
“Yes he is,” Catherine agreed. “And I’m serious about that table. I insist, as a matter of fact.”
Nicki laughed. “Well actually, Rob will be here shortly, and we happen to have dinner reservations at Mario’s tonight.”
Catherine clapped her hands. “That’s simply wonderful! Where would you like to be seated? At one of the more intimate tables in the back? They’re so romantic.”
Nicki laughed. “I’m sure Rob would prefer to sit near a window, to be honest.” Her boyfriend, Rob Emerson, was the assistant wine buyer for The Catalan House restaurant chain, and definitely preferred to see and be seen. Nicki couldn’t imagine him ever being happy to be seated at a table in the back of anywhere.
“A window table it is.” Catherine took her phone out of her purse and made a quick voice memo. Jenna would be happy to see that, considering she hadn’t been able to convince either of her friends to stop using paper calendars, much less switch to electronic memos.
“So is this boyfriend the one from San Francisco, or the one who’s just the wanna-be but is a better match for you?” Suzanne asked. She pushed her shoulder-length blond hair behind one ear and smiled at Nicki. The two women were both about the same petite height with shoulder-length hair, although Suzanne’s was several shades lighter than Nicki’s natural, sun-streaked honey-blond.
Nicki’s forehead furrowed. “I’m sorry?”
“Maxie told Frances, who told her grandson, who told his wife, who told me, that your very handsome boyfriend just might have some competition.” Suzanne practically sang that last word. “From someone named Matt?”
“I’m afraid Maxie misinterpreted the situation,” Nicki explained. “Matt is the editor of the magazine I write for.”
“Food & Wine Online, I know. I have a subscription,” Suzanne almost gushed with enthusiasm. “I love your articles.”
“Thank you,” Nicki said, concentrating to keep her mouth fixed into a polite smile. She was really going to have to get Alex to teach her that trick. “Anyway, our relationship is strictly professional.”
“But he flew all the way out here just to apologize, and he brought flowers.” Suzanne didn’t seem to be willing to let the subject go.
Making a mental note to talk to Maxie about finding something else to discuss with her friends, Nicki tried again. “It was a professional disagreement over a few articles he’d assigned to me. That’s all.”
Suzanne frowned. “Do all editors fly around to give apologies to their reporters?”
“Oh let it go, Suz,” Catherine told her friend. “It’s plain as the nose on your face that Nicki doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, her handsome boyfriend is coming into town tonight. He’s the only man on her mind right now.” Catherine shifted her gaze to Nicki. “We really have to go. I have another meeting in a few hours. Between managing the trusts, my exclusive circle of clients and this new venture with Mario, I hardly have time to breathe these days.”
Nicki smiled and nodded. “Of course. Please don’t let me hold you up.”
“Wait!” Suzanne exclaimed. “I need to get that orange-cranberry muffin recipe. For our bake sale in a few weeks. We talked about it at the last meeting. Remember?”
Nicki had a vague recollection of having nodded at a few rapid-fire requests from Suzanne. “I’ll copy it for you right away.”
“Can you give it to Catherine when you go by the restaurant tonight? She can drop it off at my house after she’s finished her shift as the hostess at Mario's.”
“Of course.” Nicki added “copy the recipe” to her mental task list for the afternoon.
Catherine gave her another wink. “I won’t forget about that table tonight. Who knows, it might be a big night for you.” She winked again as she latched onto Suzanne’s arm. “Let’s go, Suz. I’ll be sure to collect your recipe tonight, and we still need to say our goodbyes to Maxi. You know how long it takes you to do that.”
Suzanne turned and gave Nicki one last wave before she was dragged off by Catherine. Nicki shook her head in amusement. She hoped that she never got that way with Alex and Jenna in another decade or so. As she spotted her two best friends crossing the room, heading in her direction, Nicki’s smile grew. Nope. That was never going to happen.
“Sorry we couldn’t get here in time to rescue you from those two. They trapped Alex and me for a good ten minutes before they moved on to you.” Jenna hunched her shoulders and gave a mock shudder. “They’re scary.”
Alex laughed and punched Jenna lightly in the arm. “Stop. These women are Nicki’s friends.”
Jenna turned to Nicki and raised an eyebrow. “Is that true?”
“Most of them,” Nicki hedged, then shook her head at Jenna. “Like Alex said—stop. Are you both ready to leave?”
“I’m due on shift at eleven tonight, and need to get a couple of hours of sleep before then.” Alex worked in the emergency room of a hospital in the much larger city of Santa Rosa, about forty minutes west, toward the Pacific coastline.
“And I have reservations tonight at the hotel in Santa Rosa where I’ll be taking my ‘giant client’ meeting tomorrow,” Jenna said.
“My fingers are crossed for you, not that you’ll need it. You’re a terrific programmer and web designer, Jenna.” Nicki nodded, but held out crossed fingers all the same.
“The very best,” Alex echoed. “If this man doesn’t hire you, then he’s an idiot. Unless, of course, you slip up and call him your ‘giant client’ when you meet him.”
Jenna’s smile reached all the way across her face. “Thanks! I’m only a little nervous. I’ve never had a meeting with a self-made multi-millionaire before. And this contract might be huge for me.”
“It’s in the bag,” Nicki assured her. “I’ll walk out to the car with you, then come back and help Maxie clean up. She told me her housekeeper is off today.”
Alex wrapped an arm around Nicki’s waist as they walked toward the front door. “And you have a nice relaxing dinner with lover-boy Rob tonight.”
Nicki laughed. “It would be almost impossible not to have a relaxing dinner. After all, we’ll be in Arson, not San Francisco or New York. And on a week night. What could happen in a town with two roads, both leading into the same central square?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I don’t know how you do it, babe.” Rob shook his head. Not one of his perfectly groomed blond hairs budged with the movement.
“Do what?” Nicki asked, placing her hand in Rob’s as he helped her out of the car. One thing she’d always liked about Rob was his old-fashioned manners, as well as his killer smile. Which he turned on her now.
“How you can look so beautiful, classy and completely hot all at the same time.” He turned the heat of his smile up a notch. “Must be some sort of witch’s trick.”
Nicki laughed. “Did you just call me a witch?”
Rob circled an arm around her waist and guided her toward the front door of Mario’s Italian Ristorante. “Only the very best and mysterious kind, with all sorts of magical powers.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Who knows what will happen at dinner tonight?”
Alarm bells went off in Nicki’s head. Uh Oh. I hope he won’t want that table in the back after all.
She liked Rob. And cared for him. She really did. But she was absolutely not looking for any long-term declarations from him. As they walked into Mario’s, Nicki wasn’t feeling nearly as comfortable as she had when
Rob picked her up at her townhouse just fifteen minutes earlier. She breathed a sigh of relief when the first person she spotted was Catherine.
“Hi Catherine. It’s nice to see you again.” Nicki smiled at her fellow Society member standing behind the hostess station, a stack of menus in her arms.
Catherine looked up and her lips painted in a candy-red parted slightly as her gaze darted from Nicki to Rob and back again. “Yes. Yes. It’s nice to see you again, too.”
“You look very chic tonight.” Nicki thought the shade of blue in her blouse with the contrast of dark forest-green pants and accented with chunky gold jewelry suited Catherine very well.
“Thank you. Will you be wanting a table this evening?” She sent another quick glance toward Rob. “A nice quiet one in the back, perhaps?”
Nicki did a mental groan. Apparently Catherine didn’t remember their conversation at the Ladies In Writing meeting just a few hours ago. Nicki opened her small handbag and pulled out a note card that had her personal stamp on the bottom. “I have the recipe Suzanne wanted you to get for her.” She stepped forward and placed it on top of the hostess station, leaning in a bit as she whispered, “we decided on a table near the window when we talked at the Society meeting. Remember?”
Catherine stared at the paper for a long second before picking it up and reading it through. Finally putting it into the pocket of her jacket she glanced at Nicki. “The Society meeting. Yes. A window table.” She gave Nicki a stiff smile. “I’m a little scattered tonight.”
“I’m sorry,” Nicki said. “Didn’t your meeting this afternoon go well?”
“I didn’t have a meeting,” Catherine said quickly. She stepped out from behind the hostess station. “I mean, my client canceled at the last minute. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”
She hurried off, rapidly weaving her way toward the large front windows.
Rob leaned in close to her ear. “You asked for a seat by the window?”