Nikki quickly went back to the Internet and browsed through a couple of Tuscan real estate sites. Yes. One hundred eighty thousand would be a decent down payment for a plot in the countryside. Not a big plot, but still one where grapes could be grown. Minnie’s obsession with Gabriel and her need to make her dream to be with him come true had caused her to steal from her own boss. Nikki couldn’t help but feel sick to her stomach. Love, lust, whatever one called it could make even nice people desperate, as it had with Minnie.
“But who and why did someone murder them?” Nikki asked out loud, as she indicated “print” on the computer screen and turned on Minnie’s printer. Someone else had to be involved. She took the printed copies and tucked them into her notebook. She only theorized that Minnie had set up Meredith with the Remick dinnerware.
Nikki thought about calling Jeanine Wiley. And say what? I broke into Minnie Lark’s house, and this is what I found out? She didn’t like keeping this information to herself one bit, but it proved nothing, other than that Minnie was a thief. Nikki did not want to be the one to tell anyone about this. She thought about Derek, and the saying about being the bearer of bad news. What a mess.
There was a lot more Nikki wanted to do, but she wouldn’t have any more time today. According to her watch, it was almost six o’clock. She was supposed to meet Derek at his place in an hour. She took her cell phone from her purse and saw that the battery was dead. She had no choice but to call the cab company from Minnie’s home phone. She waited for almost an hour before the taxi arrived.
The driver dropped her at the front of the main house, where some of the mourners were still at the get-together following the memorial. She went in the house, looked around for Derek, but didn’t find him. It appeared that instead of mourners remaining, they were mostly caterers cleaning up.
“Hey you.”
Nikki turned around to see Cal Sumner behind her. “Oh, hi. You startled me. I was looking for Derek. Have you seen him?”
Cal pulled a note from inside his coat pocket. “Sorry I frightened you. Actually, I did see Derek, and he wanted me to give you this.”
Nikki took the note and read:
I have to cancel tonight. I’m exhausted. It’s been a trying day. I hope you understand. Also, if you want to go back to the cottage in the morning, we can arrange that. I tried to call you on your cell, but it went to voice mail. I’d like to have dinner tomorrow, but I’m supposed to have dinner with Cal. I’m thinking about selling off my premier grapes to him. I’m expecting fallout and some very bad publicity from all of this. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I missed you today. Where did you go? I needed a friend. Derek.
She cringed reading his note. He’d needed her. Well, anyway, he’d needed a friend, and she hadn’t been there for him. Instead, she was off playing amateur sleuth and making further discoveries about people Derek genuinely cared for—people who’d stabbed him in the back.
She hadn’t even thought about where she was to stay tonight. It was getting late, so she figured she would have to settle into the nuthouse again. Who knew? Maybe her sleuthing for the evening wasn’t over after all. She looked up from the note and noticed Cal studying her.
“He had to cancel on you tonight, huh?”
She nodded. “He told you?”
“Yeah. He was pretty shook up today. It’s been a long one. He thought of Gabriel like a brother.”
“Yeah, one who steals,” Nikki muttered.
“What?” Cal asked.
“Nothing, never mind.”
“Since your date canceled, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
It was a nice thought, and if she were truly a savvy woman she could juggle two men at once, especially one who looked like Johnny Depp, and one who looked like a young Robert Redford. It was time to face it, Nikki was far from savvy, and there was no way she could juggle more than one man at a time, no matter how gorgeous they were. It did matter, however, that her heart raced faster each time Derek Malveaux spoke to her, looked at her, and especially when he touched her. “That’s a lovely invitation, but I’m pretty tired myself. However, I have an idea. It says in the note that you two are scheduled to have dinner tomorrow night.”
“True, true.”
“Why don’t I make dinner? I miss cooking, and I’m decent at it. It might be nice.”
“I’d say it would be very nice.”
“Great. We’ll do it at the guest cottage. I’m here for another night, but then I’ll be moving back there tomorrow. Derek doesn’t seem to think I’m in danger anymore.”
“Do you?”
“Think I’m in danger? No, not really. But I don’t think Manuel Sanchez is a murderer.”
“Then you should read the evening newspaper. You might change your mind. You sure you won’t have dinner with me?” The twinkle in his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled almost made her reconsider.
“I’m sure. But, can I ask you something real quick?”
“Of course.”
“I know you said that there was an ongoing joke between you and Derek about trying to get Gabriel to come to work for you at Sumner.”
“Not that again. Why the curiosity?” He put his arm around her.
“Well, I know you said that it was all folly, but do you know anything about Patrice or Meredith talking to Gabriel about going to work for you?”
He removed his arm from around her shoulders. His face contorted into confusion. “No. I don’t know anything about that. Though I might understand why Meredith would do such a thing. She’s been trying to get me to deepen my commitment to her, so maybe if she did speak to Gabriel about switching wineries, then my guess would be so she could get on my good side. But for the record, I wouldn’t have taken Gabriel from Derek. He belonged here. Patrice doing something like that makes absolutely no sense at all. I can’t see any reasoning in that. She may not own the winery outright, but her portion alone makes more than my winery, and Gabriel played a large part in producing the profits. Where did you hear something like this anyway?”
“You know, it might have been Simon or Marco, or maybe even Tara Beckenroe. I’ve met so many people who appear to live for spreading gossip and rumors.” She hoped she’d covered her bases.
“Right. Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Of course not.” She smiled at him.
Cal kissed her good-bye on the cheek, and she went in search of the newspaper.
Chapter 19
The news story was shocking, and the evidence reported to have been levied against Manuel pretty compelling.
A tip from an anonymous source led police to search the home of Manuel Sanchez early Monday morning, where they later made an arrest. They found evidence suggesting that Mr. Sanchez is the Wine Lovers’ Killer, including the other half of the grapevine that was used to murder Gabriel Asanti.
Mr. Sanchez was also seen at the charity event given by Derek Malveaux on Saturday evening. A source reports he was seen walking up the back steps leading to an outside veranda, outside the room Minnie Lark was killed in. Mr. Sanchez claims he was at the event helping the caterers load and unload food items, and that he went up the back stairs to set up some decorative lights. No one has confirmed this statement.
It has been confirmed that Manuel Sanchez did kill an American man in Mexico, in what he claims was an act of self-defense in 1997. He and his wife left Mexico shortly after that incident, whereupon they came to the United States, where he found work at the Malveaux Estate. He is a naturalized U.S. citizen.
Another source has said that disturbing pencil drawings Mr. Sanchez sketched depict violent slayings of both men and women. In the background there is always a bushel of grapes.
Nikki shook her head. The story went on to relay the tragic deaths of Manuel’s wife and baby son the year before, and how many thought it was possible that the man, in his grief, had turned against the industry that supported him and his family.
She put the paper do
wn on the ottoman in front of her. She was seated in the living room by the fireplace. Her “housemates” were MIA.
No matter what the newspaper story relayed, she still refused to believe that Manuel Sanchez was guilty. The memory of Catalina and Mateo’s faces when they drove away from the vineyard the other day were etched in her mind and haunted her, along with the promise she’d made to them.
“My, my, you know how to make yourself at home, don’t you? I wouldn’t get too cozy,” Patrice Malveaux said, entering the front room.
“You people are good at sneaking around,” Nikki replied, startled.
Draped in sparkling jewels, holding a beaded clutch purse in one hand, and carrying a martini in the other, Patrice cleared her throat. “What do you want, Miss Sands?”
“What do you mean?” Nikki stood, crossing her arms in front of her.
Patrice Malveaux set her purse on the mantelpiece and twirled her olive around in her martini glass. “Why are you here? You aren’t a career-type of a woman. Are you after Derek’s money? If that’s it, you’re wasting your time.”
“You have no idea what type of a woman I am.” This was unexpected. She knew both Patrice and Meredith to be catty and secretive, but confrontational? She considered confronting her in turn about what she’d overheard Meredith and her talking about out at the shed the other night. However, she had her wits about her and couldn’t help wondering if the woman might not have a gun in her purse. Nikki had not ruled out the matriarch of this clan as the killer. Mum was the word for the moment.
“I’m pretty sure I do. I recognize poor white trash when I see it, and you, darling, are it.”
The back of Nikki’s neck grew warm, starting to itch. “You don’t know me at all.”
Patrice Malveaux set the martini on the mantel and took down the small purse. Opening it, she pulled out a pen and checkbook. “How much?”
“How much what?”
Patrice sighed. “How much do you want so that you’ll leave the Malveaux Estate and our family alone?”
“I don’t want your money,” Nikki scoffed. “And, why would I leave?”
“Because I want you to. It’s too bad for you that I have friends all over this community who care a great deal about me and mine. A little bird whispered in my ear earlier today that you’re as curious as a cat. Now, my guess is that you’ve found out something you shouldn’t have. Meredith is very dear to me, and she’s had a rough couple of years. I don’t want her hurt any further.” She wrote out something on the check, ripped it off, and handed it to Nikki. “Make this easy on all of us, especially yourself. You wouldn’t want to get tangled up in something you couldn’t get out of. You may be white trash, but I think you’re fairly smart white trash. I trust you’ll do the right thing. Take this, leave here, and go crawl back under the rock you came from. I’d like you gone by tomorrow. I also think it best that you stay in the cottage tonight, instead of here in my house. Frankly, you’re not welcome. I would expect that this amount would keep your trap shut, and your scrawny rear out of the Malveaux family and business matters.” With that, the woman turned on her heels and left Nikki standing there, mouth agape, holding a check made out to her in the sum of two hundred fifty thousand dollars.
“Talk about raining on the parade,” Nikki muttered. The phony-baloney bitch had done just that. That sweet grand-motherly Doris at public records had been a spy for Patrice, or else someone looking over her shoulder at the library had been, but Nikki doubted that. She would’ve noticed lurkers among the literati.
Patrice was certainly wound up. Nikki had found out a bit about Meredith, but nothing that would matter to anyone. She was only waiting to speak to Derek to see if he knew about his ex-wife’s past, which she was pretty sure he did. Most married people knew each other’s family history. But then again, maybe not. Would Nikki ever want to reveal her family history to Derek, even if they were married? She wouldn’t want to, but she knew that she would have to.
Maybe what she’d found out about Meredith mattered because Derek didn’t know, and Meredith and Patrice were definitely in cahoots on something they were cooking up that Nikki knew involved Derek. Did it all have to do with murder? What was their big secret? And why was Patrice two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollars-worth interested in Meredith’s welfare? Unless they were lovers as Nikki suspected, or . . .
Nikki grabbed her purse and headed out the door to the truck. She was going back to the library. She hoped it stayed open late, because she had a hunch, and Aunt Cara always professed that trusting hunches was a wise thing.
Chapter 20
It was almost eight o’clock by the time Nikki arrived at the library. It would only be open for another hour, which was probably not enough time for her to find what she wanted, but it would be a start.
She started with Patrice this time and worked her way back. Chandler Malveaux died the same year Derek and Meredith were married. Nikki found all sorts of photos from various charity events and wine tastings in the Napa Valley Register. Nikki could see where Derek got his good looks. There was that same reflected sadness that shone in Derek’s eyes. The first Mrs. Malveaux had obviously been very well loved by the men in her life, and she’d left her mark upon them.
Nikki went back several years and found articles about Derek’s mother, Shandon Malveaux, and her support of various charities, and then, sadly Nikki read her obituary. It included a long list of accomplishments, including being a teacher for special-needs children. There was a lot about the late Mrs. Malveaux that Nikki would like to discover, but right now she needed to learn as much as she could about Patrice Malveaux.
Chandler Malveaux and Patrice Spanos were married on the island of Crete in Greece. Sort of interesting. But, going back further, she found nothing more of interest. Patrice was from Greece. Her family’s wealth came from publishing books on mythology. That was interesting, too, but not important. Nikki was digging for something more, and she wasn’t finding it here.
She rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair for a minute. The library’s fluorescent lights, along with the stress and length of the day were making her tired and weary. Where would she find what she was looking for?
The librarian came over the p.a. system announcing closing time. Nikki got up, stretched, and walked out into the crisp night air. She needed coffee if she was going to even attempt to work on this convoluted puzzle anymore tonight. She walked a couple of blocks, and to her joy found a Starbucks. A hazelnut mocha with whipped cream was exactly the fix she needed. Standing in line, she tried to clear her mind. It was a challenge, considering everything, but as she stepped up to order, her mind went into overdrive.
“Can I take your order?” asked a young man with a barely-there goatee, mussed blond hair, stark green eyes, and wearing a half of a “best friend” charm around his neck.
The best-friend charm. What luck. “Nice charm,” she said. “They used to be really popular when I was a kid. You look a lot younger than me, though.” Nikki never remembered any guys exchanging those charms.
“I can still have a best friend,” he replied in a surly voice.
“Of course you can.”
“So, is your best friend a girl or a boy?” Nikki asked coyly.
“Can I take your order?” he replied, blushing.
Nikki gave him the order and waited for her coffee. She decided to stay at the Starbuck’s for a bit, and see what she could get out of “Skippy.”
She wound up ordering another mocha and feeling quite full before the Starbucks’ line slowed down for the evening. Skippy kept glancing her way. She smiled at him a few times, tried to make small talk again with him when she ordered the second mocha, but he was having none of it.
She’d wait it out and see if a bit of Southern charm worked. She kept her fingers crossed that she would be able to get him to reveal how he’d gotten the token treasure around his neck. It had to have come from a bosom buddy, and one she suspected was one of the arrogant gay men liv
ing at the Malveaux Estate. Which one of them was keeping the boy toy? Or were both of them involved with him?
It appeared that Skippy was going to be tonight’s Starbucks’ closer. Lady Luck strikes again.
“Can I get one last mocha, only make this one nonfat minus the whipped cream?” Nikki asked, walking up to the counter one last time. She’d more than exceeded her calorie count for the day.
“Sure,” Skippy muttered.
She almost laughed while thinking of the young man as a Skippy, but for some reason, that was the name that came to mind. He was young, would’ve had a great sailor look minus the goatee and long hair, and he seemed so innocent. “Skippy” fit.
“I don’t mean to be a pest. I’m sorry if I offended you earlier. It’s just that when I was a kid I had a best friend, and we saved our money for a long time to buy a charm that looked exactly like yours. Not long after I gave it to her, she moved away. I never saw her again.”
Murder Uncorked Page 19