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A Food and Wine Club Mystery Boxset Books 1 through 5

Page 82

by Cat Chandler


  “Maybe a couple of times. I didn’t go into his office very much.”

  “Oh.” And just like that, Nicki’s hopes sank into the ground as she returned to her icing bowls and Kylie walked over to the far counter.

  “But we spent tons of hours in this kitchen together. Robin used to talk about a lot of things. And sometimes he’d mention the wine.” She measured more sugar into the coffee grinder before looking over at Nicki. “You’re talking about the wine his dad found during the war, aren’t you? The red one with the old label and the initials on it?”

  Nicki dropped her spoon into the icing bowl. From the corner of her eye she saw Jenna turn around. “Initials, what initials?”

  Kylie didn’t notice the intense interest from the other two women as she kept her eyes firmly on the coffee grinder. “THJ. I asked Robin whose they were and at first he pretended not to hear me. But I asked again.” Kylie stopped the grinder and lifted the lid. She poured the sugar into a large bowl she’d set on the counter as both Nicki and Jenna leaned forward, waiting for her to continue.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Kylie,” Jenna finally said. “What did he say?”

  “Who?”

  “Robin.” Jenna grabbed a dish towel and dried her hands as she walked over to stand by Nicki. “What did Robin say when you asked him again about the initials?”

  “Oh.” Kylie looked over her shoulder and gave a start at the intense stares she was getting from two pairs of eyes. “He sort of mumbled, so I’m not sure what he said. But I think it was something about a famous winemaker.”

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  “What do you think?” Jenna asked, her gaze on Nicki.

  “Well, at least it rules out Clark Gable.” Nicki blew out the rest of the breath she’d been holding. A famous winemaker with the initials of THJ? The fact was, it could be anybody from the last one hundred years. Or maybe more. She had no idea how old the wine was when Lieutenant Boral had found it all those years ago.

  “Not that I have a clue why you just said that, but did Clark Gable make wine?” Jenna wondered.

  “I have no idea.” Nicki picked up the spoon she’d dropped into the bowl and started stirring the icing. “Let’s finish up and then maybe I can borrow a computer and do a little internet search while the cupcakes are baking.”

  As Jenna walked back to her dish sink, Nicki carried a small bowl over to Kylie. “I think this will do fine for the lemon and passion fruit cupcake. And I’ll have the other three ready to go pretty soon. Are you ready to start a new batter with the caster sugar?”

  For the next hour the three women worked side by side, chatting about their lives and laughing over Jenna’s stories about a few of her more colorful clients. The time flew by and before long, the icings were done and the cupcakes were being pulled out of the oven and set to cooling on a tall rack. Nicki looked around with satisfaction as she wiped down the last counter.

  Kylie was sitting on a high metal stool, happily eating the sandwich she’d brought for lunch and reading a mystery novel, while Jenna was talking away into her cell phone, dealing with a client who had called. Since she wanted to take one of the “scuba” cupcakes back to the hotel as a surprise for Alex, Nicki had a few minutes to wait until the cakes had cooled enough to be iced and decorated.

  Wandering into the front lobby, Nicki smiled at Karen who was filing her nails.

  “Hey! It’s good to see another face.”

  Nicki grinned at the receptionist. “It does seem a little quiet. Did Brad and Gin come in yet? I wanted to talk to Gin.”

  “No, but our big-shot chef stormed out of here and said he was taking a couple of days off because he needed a break from all those women.” Karen’s eyes took on a sparkle. “Except he didn’t use the word ‘women’. I cleaned it up to be polite.”

  “I appreciate that."

  Karen set her nail file down and studied Nicki. “Chef Benson really doesn’t scare you?”

  “Nope. Not when we were in school together, and not now. Why should he?” Nicki leaned over and said in a loud, conspiratorial whisper. “I’m a better chef than he is.”

  The receptionist giggled and whispered back. “I believe that.”

  After their laughter had died down, Nicki pointed to the computer sitting on Karen’s desk. “I need to do a little internet search. Would you mind if I used your computer for a few minutes?”

  “Not at all. I was about to put the sign on the door and go to lunch.” Karen opened a drawer and took out her purse along with a sign saying “We’ll Be Back” underneath the drawing of a clock that had rotating hands attached to it. Karen set the time then walked across the lobby and hung the sign on the door. With a last jaunty wave, she walked out.

  Nicki didn’t waste any time before booting up the computer. As she waited for the internet icon to appear, she picked up a pencil Karen had left on the desk and wrote out a few words on a memo pad.

  Deciding those were the search words she’d try first, Nicki started out with the most obvious combination. She typed in “famous winemakers with the initials THJ”, and pressed enter. In less than a second, hundreds of entries came back, but one immediately caught her attention. As she read the article, Nicki’s eyes widened and her heart started racing.

  This was it. This was the reason that the wine was the key. She was sure of it.

  Highlighting the whole article, Nicki hit the print button and waited, her foot tapping impatiently as it seemed to take forever for the little printer to spit out the two sheets of paper. Hastily shutting the computer down so no snooping eyes would see what she had found, Nicki snatched up the printed sheets and raced back to the kitchen.

  As soon as she walked through the door, Jenna waved frantically at her. Nicki stopped in her tracks and stared at her friend. Since Jenna had her cell phone up to her ear, Nicki assumed she was still talking to her client.

  Jenna put one hand over the lower part of her phone and hissed at her friend. “Your phone. Check your phone.”

  Nicki quickly went to the hook where she’d hung her purse and dug out her phone. There were three text messages from Alex, and each one sounded more frantic than the last.

  Where are you? Call me now!! I mean right now!!!

  Wondering what on earth was going on, Nicki punched in Alex’s number. It was picked up on the first ring.

  “I tried calling Jenna, but I couldn’t get through,” Alex sounded out of breath.

  “She’s talking to a client.” Nicki thought she could hear someone sobbing in the background. “What’s going on?”

  “You have to come back to the hotel now. We’re in my suite.”

  “We?” Nicki gripped her phone a little harder. “Who’s we?”

  “The two of you just get here. It’s a disaster, and I mean a huge one!”

  Ten minutes later a panting Nicki and Jenna knocked on the door to Alex’s suite. It immediately opened. Alex grabbed onto both of them, pulling her friends into the room. Sounds of crying filled the air as Nicki followed Alex into the suite with Jenna right behind her. Nancy and Maxie occupied two chairs facing the sliding glass doors. Neither one of them looked very happy. On the sofa sat Gin, her hands covering her face as tears dripped down between her fingers.

  Nicki and Jenna exchanged an alarmed look while Alex pointed at her childhood friend. “This is the disaster. Chief Thomas showed up at their house this morning with a deputy and a search warrant. Then he arrested Brad.”

  “What?” Nicki stared at Gin for a long moment before shifting her gaze back to Alex. “Why did he arrest Brad?”

  “Most likely because the murder weapon was found in his garage,” Maxie said.

  Nicki’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Gin. “How did it get there?”

  “I don’t know,” Gin wailed. Then began violently shaking her head. “But not because Brad put it there. He wouldn’t do that. I know he wouldn’t do that.”

  “The wedding will be ruined,” Nancy declared. “It’s i
n two days. We can’t get another caterer in two days.”

  “Mom!” Alex’s voice was sharp as she stared at her mother. “Gin’s husband is in jail for a murder he didn’t commit. Let’s keep our priorities straight here.”

  Nancy subsided, but from the stubborn look on her face, Nicki knew the wedding discussion was far from over. She stepped over to the sofa and sat down beside Gin, while Alex did the same on the other side of the crying woman.

  Nicki put an arm around Gin’s shaking shoulders. “Gin, you need to calm down and tell us what happened.” When that didn’t have any results, Nicki sent Alex a helpless look over Gin’s head. “We found out something, and it’s important.”

  Alex nodded and reached over and wrapped her hands around Gin’s wrists, gently pulling them down so her friend’s hands were no longer covering her face. “Get hold of yourself, Gin. You aren’t helping Brad this way. If we’re going to figure this out, you have to calm down.”

  “I can’t.” Gin’s breath was coming in rapid heaves, and Nicki wondered if the woman was going to pass out.

  “You can,” Alex contradicted her. “And you have to. Otherwise your husband might go to prison for something he didn’t do. He’s depending on you, Gin.”

  “Depending on me,” Gin repeated as she made a visible effort to slow her breathing.

  It took a good five minutes of Alex coaching her friend in getting control of her emotions before Gin’s breathing returned to normal. She still seemed on the verge of collapse to Nicki, but at least she wasn’t crying her eyes out anymore. When Alex gave her a nod, Nicki took two sheets of paper neatly folded in half, out of her purse. Opening them, she held them up so Gin could see the first page.

  “I need to know if you’ve ever heard Brad talk about this.”

  Gin looked from the paper to Nicki and back as Jenna moved to stand behind the divan. Gin, Jenna, and Alex read silently for a full minute. It was Alex who reacted first. Her eyes darted to Nicki.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  “Holy mackerel!” Jenna’s exclamation came a second later. “You think that bottle of wine belonged to Thomas Jefferson?”

  From across the room, Maxie gasped, and Nancy’s mouth dropped open.

  “I think it was part of a shipment meant to be sent to Thomas Jefferson that never got to him. At least that’s how the story goes.”

  The catering manager frowned. “Story? I don’t understand.”

  “Okay. But first, you need to be honest with me.” Nicki glanced at Alex. “And with the friend you’ve known all your life. Did Brad ever mention anything about a very old wine from Bordeaux, or a Lafite Vineyard wine?”

  “No.” Gin shook her head. “I’d certainly remember him saying something about a wine from that vineyard. It’s famous.”

  Nicki nodded her agreement. “One of the best in the world.”

  “But I don’t understand.” Gin held the paper out to Nicki. “What has this got to do with Brad? Or Robin’s murder?”

  “Kylie told us that Robin said his dad’s bottle of wine had the initials THJ on it,” Jenna blurted out.

  “That’s right.” Nicki smiled at her friend. “We know that Robin kept his most expensive wines in that cabinet in his office because it was temperature controlled and because of the extra security there. Which is why he brought his dad’s wine there. His dad was in the Sixty-Sixth Infantry Division in World War Two and spent time in the south of France. They were in the Bordeaux province. That’s where Chateau Lafite is. It’s the vineyard owned by the Rothschilds, and it’s documented as one that Thomas Jefferson visited when he was in France. It’s also well known that he ordered cases of wine from France after he returned home, and requested the bottles be marked with his initials. Our third president was probably the first fine wine collector in the USA.”

  “So you think that Robin’s father found one of these bottles during the war?” Gin asked slowly.

  “Yes, I do.” Nicki was certain of it. And someone else was too, and killed to get his hands on it. Nicki thought she knew who, but she didn’t know how to prove it. There was still a piece missing somewhere.

  “Why did you say it was a story?” Maxie directed her question to Nicki, who lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

  “A number of those bottles have surfaced, and there’re some real questions about whether they're genuine or not.”

  “So it could be worth nothing?” Jenna frowned.

  Nicki lifted her hands. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. It only matters what the thief thinks. And fake or not, a bottle of the 1787 Chateau Lafite with the THJ initials on it sold at auction for just a bit more than one hundred and fifty-six thousand dollars.”

  Gin’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “A hundred and… now you are kidding, aren’t you?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  There was a full minute of silence as the value of Robin’s missing wine slowly sunk in.

  “Wow.” Jenna removed her glasses and rubbed her hands across her eyes. “So it was the wine, all along.”

  “How does this help Brad?” Gin wrung her hands together as she looked around the room.

  “Well, I’m not sure. But we know what Robin was murdered for — the wine. And we know none of the building alarms were tripped, so it had to be someone who had a key and knew the alarm code. Which means it was probably an employee.” Nicki frowned. “That narrows the number of suspects down considerably. And we still have the mystery of the pin. If we figure that out, it might help us find the killer and get Brad out of jail.”

  “Pin? What pin?” Nancy demanded from across the room. “Now what are you all talking about.”

  “It was attached to a blue ribbon and looked like Robin had hung it around the wine bottle. It was left behind by the thief and now has mysteriously disappeared,” Nicki said.

  “After Nicki started asking questions about it,” Jenna added.

  Nancy shifted around in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs several times. “Well? What did it look like? Or don’t we know that either?”

  Nicki brought up a mental picture of what she’d managed to see of the pin. “It looked like a spiky kind of star. And it had ‘Lifetime Member’ on a banner on the bottom. Mink said it had something to do with Robin’s dad being a veteran.”

  “And you say he served in France?” When Nicki bobbed her head, Nancy looked over at her daughter. “Honestly, Alex. That certainly shouldn’t be a mystery to you. You’ve seen that pin. Your grandfather had one, and he wore it quite often.”

  Alex frowned. “He did?”

  Her mother made an exasperated sound and stood up. “It sounds like a VFW pin. You know, Veterans of Foreign Wars? My father also served in World War Two, in the Pacific, though, not in Europe. And he was also a lifetime member of the VFW. They have chapters all over the country.” She smoothed out the skirt she was wearing and looked at Alex. “We’ve had family coming in all day, with more coming in tomorrow. I can’t deal with anything else. This is your wedding. You need to solve the catering problem.” She didn’t even glance at Gin as she marched out the door.

  Maxie also stood up and sighed, directing her gaze to Alex. “She’s upset, dear. You’re her only daughter, and she’s probably been planning your wedding in her head for years. With all the postponements you and Ty kept making, and now a murder in the middle of it, it’s simply too much.” She looked over at Gin. “I know Brad oversaw the kitchen and marketing while you took care of the finances, but you’re going to have to figure this out.” Maxie’s gaze bounced over to Nicki. “And you are a trained chef. I can guarantee that helping to straighten this out is part of the bridesmaid code you love to talk about. You know how a kitchen is supposed to run, Nicki Connors. Get down to that catering company and do it.”

  After Maxie had followed Nancy out the door, Nicki slumped down. A sit-down dinner for three hundred people? Maxie had to be kidding. And no one had heard the worst of it yet. Andrew Benson, the e
xecutive chef for Robin’s Catering, had stormed off, declaring he wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. Even if he was in the kitchen on the day of the wedding, there was a lot of food prep that went on prior to that. It should be getting underway just about now, actually. And with the chef disappearing and Brad in jail, who was going to direct the sous chefs?

  At that moment, Nicki was very sorry she’d ever brought up the bridesmaid code.

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  Nicki collapsed onto the high stool next to the stainless-steel counter in the main kitchen of Robin’s Catering. Most of the space was taken by the commercial-grade refrigerators and a large walk-in freezer with shelves spanning across it from floor to ceiling. It was the first time Nicki had been able to sit down since she’d met Gin at the front door just as the tower clock down by the harbor had started sounding out the seven o’clock chimes.

  That was four hours ago.

  As they’d both feared, the executive chef had yet to make an appearance, so Nicki had been left with little choice but to get the massive amount of food prep work started. At least Andrew had the menu and work breakdown on a clipboard in his neat-as-a-pin office, which Gin had discovered right next to his computer.

  But even with a firm plan in hand, it was a daunting task. Especially for a chef who hadn’t done any event preparation except as an intern right after she’d finished culinary school almost six years ago. Sitting on the stool with her shoulders slumped and a back that ached from hours of bending over a counter, Nicki remembered all the reasons why she hadn’t chosen to go into catering. And especially for large events.

  As tired as she was, she still found a smile when Gin slid onto the stool next to her and folded her arms on top of the counter, using them as a pillow for her head.

 

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