Corked by Cabernet

by Michele Scott

  1½ tbsp balsamic vinegar

  1 tbsp fresh lime juice

  1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

  1 small garlic clove, minced

  2 Serrano chilies, seeded and finely diced

  3 tbsp honey

  1-2 tbsp minced fresh coriander

  48 tiger prawns

  salt (pinch of)

  In a small bowl, combine the peanut oil, olive oil, white wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar, lime juice, lemon juice, garlic, honey, chilies, salt, and coriander. Whisk to blend well. Marinate for 20 minutes.

  Preheat grill for medium-high heat. Thread prawns onto skewers, piercing each first through the tail, and then the head.

  Brush grill grate with oil. Baste with marinade glaze on each side again while cooking. Cook prawns for 5 minutes, turning once, or until opaque.

  Five

  THE setup for the evening was a little different, but Nikki found herself having a good time. Okay, so the wine helped. But seriously, she was meeting new people, and although most were a little to the left of center, as far as she was concerned, they were all basically nice.

  With each course, she found herself seated with a new group of people. The idea was to rotate tables as the separate courses came in and talk about what you learned in the past year about yourself and others. It was kind of difficult because it was on the train, but Hayden insisted it was the exercise her father wanted to do. Nikki and the wine train event coordinator made it work.

  It was an exercise that Alan suggested everyone try, and “everyone” apparently included her as well. So she threw caution to the wind and, in true Sansi spirit, “went with it.”

  Luckily for her, as things turned to more personal-type questions, she found herself seated across from Marco when it was her turn to “share.” The problem was she was also next to Sierra Sansi, who had put away plenty of wine, and kept leaning on Nikki. “You are so cool. Like a normal chick. I want to be your best friend. You know, BFF? I need a friend,” Sierra slurred.

  Sierra’s sister, Hayden, was also at their table, looking completely disgusted by Sierra. Instead of friendship, Nikki offered the tipsy girl a bottle of water or some coffee.

  Marco clapped his hands together. “Bellissima,” he said to Nikki in his beautiful Italian accent. “You tell us what you learned this year.”

  “Oh God, I don’t know.”

  “No, no.” He shook a finger wildly in front of her face. “You know and I know you’ve learned many things about yourself and people around you.”

  Marco was her “go-to” guy. He knew more about her than most people, and that was because she trusted him to keep her secrets, even from Simon. Now here he was trying to expose her!

  “Come now. Tell us.”

  She sighed and thought for a moment.

  “Yes, come on. Tell us your life lesson for the year,” Sierra slurred sarcastically.

  “Okay. I learned that following my heart is better than following my head even if it means I might get hurt.”

  Marco nodded as if he approved.

  “And I learned that people aren’t always what they seem.” She narrowed her eyes like a cat at him.

  He laughed. “Oh, that is so true, isn’t it, Bellissima?”

  Sierra perked up a little. “Love, huh, and heartbreak? No. I think you should follow your head and not your heart. Because your head is smarter.” She giggled. “And it does not get smashed into tiny shredded pieces. And I get what you meant that people aren’t who they supposedly are. Let me tell you, do I get that.”

  Hayden stood up. “I think you and I should make a trip to the ladies’ room, Sierra.”

  Sierra made a face at her. “I don’t have to pee.”

  Hayden grabbed her arm. “It’s time for a walk.”

  Sierra Sansi stood up at Hayden’s demand. “You are such a bitch sometimes.”

  “I know, Sierra. I’m a total bitch.”

  “You and Rich, such the perfect couple. You must really practice this stuff Dad teaches because you seem to always get what you want.”

  “Bathroom. Now.”

  “Wow. What was that all about?” Nikki asked.

  Marco closed his eyes for a second. “She has had too much to drink.”

  “I can see that. She’s practically falling down. Her parents must be beside themselves. That young woman is a mess.”

  Marco nodded. “Ah, yes and no, as her father will say. It is her choice, her journey.”

  Nikki took that in for a moment. “Okay, so maybe it is, but isn’t it also her family’s or friends’ choice to help her? Couldn’t that be their journey? It seems like her sister is trying to help.”

  “It does look that way. It is all in perfect order, no?”

  “I don’t know about that,” Nikki replied. “So far I haven’t seen a lot of perfection out of any of this.”

  “That is the point. There is perfection in nonperfection. It’s life.”

  “Oh, brother. Why are you spending so much money on all of this babble when you just made the best point yet? It’s all life. Just life with its ups and downs. The moments that suck and the moments of bliss. You don’t need this, and I’m telling you that Sierra Sansi needs some counseling, not all this huruguru crap.”

  “Such a skeptic.”

  “No, a realist,” Nikki replied.

  “You have to remember that Sierra Sansi is an adult and her parents can only do so much to see she gets help.”

  “Why do you think they brought her then?”

  “Because I think they do want to help her.”

  “I think rehab would help,” Nikki said.

  “It’s not our business or our journey, Bellissima. We are only a short chapter in all of this.”

  Nikki took a sip of wine. This was way too philosophical for her. If Sierra Sansi had been her kid—adult or not—she would have told her that she was going to take her ass to rehab and get some help, or else there would be consequences, like being cut out of her trust fund or something huge to give her some sort of wake-up call. “You want to know what I would do?”

  “Tell me,” Marco said.

  Nikki did, and as Marco was reflecting on it for a few moments, Hayden came back to their table. “Did you see my sister?”

  “No,” Nikki said. “You were with her, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. I was. In the bathroom, and she kept insisting she wanted more wine. I told her the wine bar was closed.”

  “It probably is now.” Nikki looked at her watch. They were into the dessert portion of the trip and she knew they closed the wine lounge down before serving dessert. “But I think the lounge up front is still open.”

  “No. She doesn’t need anything else to drink. Oh God. I have to find her.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Nikki offered. “I’ve been on the train before and know my way around.”

  “Thanks,” Hayden replied. “That would be great.”

  Marco waved them off and Nikki led Hayden throughout the different cars on the train and on up to the lounge. Sierra was nowhere in sight. They checked the bathrooms again, but no Sierra.

  “That’s odd. She couldn’t have gotten off,” Hayden said.

  “There’s maybe one other place, but she had to have gone looking for it,” Nikki suggested.

  “Where is that?”

  “There’s a small storage car in the back. It’s where they load the wine.”

  “Yes. If she went looking for a glass of wine and she found that, then I’d say there’s a chance she’s in there.” Hayden followed behind Nikki in and out through the people on the train. “Usually she doesn’t drink so much. She never used to, but she’s had a few problems lately and I’ve noticed she’s started downing the wine a bit.”

  “Not good.”

  “No.”

  As they headed toward the back of the train, Sierra came running toward them, pale and blabbing, but not making any sense. Her sister took her by the shoulders. “Sierra? What is it? What’s wrong?”r />
  She kept shaking her head and pointing to the back of the train. “In there with the wine,” she muttered.

  “What? Yes, we figured that you might be having more wine back there. Sierra, you have to stop. I think you could have a problem.”

  “No! No!” she screamed.

  Nikki pushed her way past the sisters and pressed the button on the wine storage car. Something was terribly wrong—drunk or not, Sierra Sansi was clearly upset.

  When Nikki stepped inside, she could see why. Her knees wobbled, wanting to collapse, and the blood running through her veins chilled at the sight. There was Iwao Yamimoto on the floor between two boxes of Cabernet Sauvignon by Malveaux—his throat slit and the cork from a wine bottle shoved into his mouth. Iwao Yamimoto had been corked by Cabernet.

  Six

  NIKKI spied Detective Jonah Robinson before he saw her. He was talking to the uniformed police on the scene who were having people sit down and go through the interviewing process, which would be quite lengthy considering all the people who had been on the train. When he looked her way and locked eyes with hers, he shook his head. She mustered a weak smile.

  He sauntered over to her. There was no other word to describe the way Detective Robinson walked, other than possibly strut. She couldn’t help spotting Simon and Marco, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. They’d seen the detective before, but he was one of those men who took the breath away each time you saw him. He didn’t possess drop-dead gorgeousness like Derek or Marco did. Hmmm—Nikki was a lucky girl. But the thing about Jonah Robinson was that he exuded mass sex appeal. Still there had been no love lost between Jonah and Nikki on their first encounter, despite his good looks. What Robinson had in the way of “hotness,” he lacked in charm. Nikki first met him when Georges Debussey was murdered at the hotel, and they hadn’t cared much for each other from the moment Robinson started questioning her in an accusatory tone.

  But because of that case, they’d found a mutual respect for one another, and there was no denying it: whether or not you liked the detective, he was sexy. Lenny Kravitz sexy with mocha skin, deep green eyes, and a lanky leanness that reminded her of a cat on the prowl. And over time, Nikki had learned to like Robinson.

  “Why is it that when a murder happens around here, you seem to be close by? Every time,” he said.

  “Hey, I’ve been trying to stay out of trouble. It’s been what, a year or so? I’ve been good. Honest.”

  “I doubt that. You want to tell me what you know about the victim, what happened, what this thing on the train is all about? Someone said it’s some cult group.”

  “Oh, my God, no. Who said that?”

  “I’m not telling you, and . . .” He raised a finger. “Don’t get messed up in this one. Don’t, don’t, don’t.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Sure you don’t,” he said. “Sonoma County is lucky I transferred here instead of staying in the city, so you don’t need to be doing none of that snooping you’re famous for.”

  She crossed her arms. “I resent that.”

  “It’s true. Now, you ready to tell me what you’re doing hanging out with a bunch of Hare Krishna types?”

  He took out a small notepad and pencil. She explained to him who the group really was and why they’d all been on the wine train. “I had just met Mr. Yamimoto today and then he was at our table for a bit tonight. From what I gathered, he’s a publisher from Japan wanting to publish Alan Sansi’s books in his country. But Sansi didn’t seem all that interested.”

  “Uh-huh. What else do you know?”

  Nikki had learned from her past dealings with Robinson not to keep anything from him, and although she was notorious for crime solving, she didn’t think she wanted to take a stab at this one. She told him what Iwao had said about Alan Sansi’s system being horseshit and she also told him she thought the dialogue between Iwao and Juan Gonzales had some kind of hidden message in it.

  “What do you mean?” Robinson asked. “What kind of hidden message?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was weird, though. Iwao was talking about some note that Juan left for him earlier, and then made a comment about him being a funny guy. I don’t know . . . it struck me as odd.”

  Robinson wrote this information down. “Which one is this Gonzales cat?”

  Nikki pointed him out. He was seated, speaking with one of the cops.

  “I think I better talk with him, and we need to get access into Iwao Yamimoto’s room. I doubt that will happen tonight. There’s a lot of witnesses to go through, so I’d appreciate it if you got it locked up tight.”

  “Sure. His wife is also staying in there. She doesn’t seem to speak any English.”

  “His wife?”

  Nikki pointed to Mrs. Yamimoto. The woman was crouched against the chair she’d been sitting in at dinner-time. She was as silent as she had been earlier. The only sound she’d made was when she realized what had happened to Iwao, and she’d let out a cry so animalistic and pain filled, Nikki’s heart literally felt a deep pang and ached for her. Now she seemed to be in shock. Initially Nikki had sat down and tried to speak to her, but she got no response and ultimately decided that the woman wanted to be left alone. Even if she didn’t, the cops showed up quickly, before there was any real time to comfort anyone. Everyone sort of had that dumbstruck look on their face.

  “I better find out. I may have to get an interpreter here.”

  Nikki nodded. “What do you plan to do with all of these people?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I’m sure after this, they’ll all want to go home,” Nikki said.

  “No.” Alan Sansi had come up behind her. “No one is going home. This, this situation . . . Iwao’s death is something we need to deal with as a group. We all signed up for this journey and I think we need to see it through.”

  “Mr. Sansi, I assume?” Robinson asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You do realize that one of your followers—”

  Alan interrupted him. “I don’t have followers. They are members seeking a path of enlightenment.”

  “Right. One of your members may have killed one of their own tonight. It could have been someone on staff on the train or a passenger not associated with the group. We’ll be checking all angles. The way Mr. Yamimoto was murdered was violent and malicious. I think you may want to reconsider continuing on with your week. There may be a killer amongst you.”

  Alan didn’t respond for several seconds. His happy-go-lucky demeanor had changed since earlier that day. He was subdued and even strained. “I agree with that. But as I said, this is what we all signed up for. Is there a problem if we do continue with the program?”

  Nikki found his choice of words strange. She knew she certainly hadn’t signed up for murder on the Napa Express.

  “The police department should not have a problem with it, but I think regarding the program for the week, well, that would be something for Ms. Sands and Mr. Malveaux to decide,” Robinson said.

  Oh no. Derek. Robinson had to remind her that her partner in love was currently radio silent—on a plane to New York City. How was he going to take this? She knew the answer to that. She glanced at Simon, who was seated next to Marco. They were both watching them.

  “Derek is on his way to New York.”

  “I guess it’s up to you then. I would suggest if you’re going to continue, then you should hire extra security. I can place a uniformed officer at the hotel but, I have to tell you, with the cuts the department has recently taken, I can’t afford any of my men to play rent-a-cop.”

  “All right. I’ll see what I can do,” Nikki replied. “If you really think we should and can continue, then I’ll do my part, Alan.”

  With a nod of his head, Alan quipped, “Yes. I do.”

  “I’d like to speak further with you, Mr. Sansi. Ms. Sands, if you’ll excuse us and maybe help calm nerves. I know murder doesn’t get under your skin the way it does others.” Robinson smil
ed slightly. “Right over there, Mr. Sansi. I’ll be with you in a moment.” He turned back to Nikki. “I’m probably going to regret this, especially since it’s not exactly by the book, and I’ve already adamantly warned you away, but right now I could use your eyes and ears. You’re actually above suspicion this time, I think.”

  “What are you asking me for, Robinson?” She placed a hand on her hip and tossed back her dark hair.

  He sighed. “I’m short on staff like I said, and you did solve Georges Debussey’s murder. You’ve got good instincts. I don’t want you snooping per se, but I could use you to listen to your gut on this and tell me anything you might think or feel, even if it sounds whacked out. I think this group is probably pretty kooky.” He spun a finger in circles around his right ear.

  She smiled. “Let me get this straight. You’re asking for my help?”

  He studied her. “Kind of. But don’t let it go to your head.” He sighed. “I’m sure that I’m going to regret this. Don’t cross the line, though. You know what I’m talking about. None of that breaking and entering you’ve done in the past, or following people in cars. None of that. All I want from you is information. You hear someone tell someone else something that don’t sound right, you call me. You see something strikes you as odd, you call me. Your gut screams at you about something, you call me.”

  “All right, I got it. I’ll call you.”

  “Good. You really okay with these folks staying at your place?”

  “I’ve got a big dog, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. The ridgeback.” He laughed. “Good. Keep him close by. I’ll be by your place tomorrow. I think you and I are through tonight. Like I said, play hostess for now. And keep your ears and eyes open. I’m going to talk to the rest of these people.”

  “Hey, Robinson, I forgot to mention to you that I saw a heated conversation between Sansi and the deceased earlier today at the hotel.”

  “Know what it was about?”

  “No clue. But it looked like Iwao Yamimoto was trying to hand something to Sansi, like a DVD or maybe a small case of some sort. I don’t know, but he told Iwao to mind his own business.”