Marriage, Merlot & Murder (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 4)

by Gemma Halliday

  While Grant's timing could not have been better, the fact that Baker had been killed ensured that not only were police, crime scene techs, and the medical examiner swarming my winery in a matter of minutes afterward, but Internal Affairs had also gotten involved, doing a thorough investigation of Grant having shot someone in the line of duty. Again.

  I'd felt a whole host of emotions about that, ranging from relief to guilt to fear over what might happen to him next. The first time he'd killed someone on the job, he'd been transferred to Wine Country. Luckily, as of yesterday, IA had deemed his use of force as necessary, and Grant was off the hook. At least professionally. Personally, I wasn't sure how it all sat with him.

  Though, the fact that he'd asked me out to dinner that night was a positive sign.

  "What about red?" Ava asked, pulling a low cut red number from my closet. "This dress would look fab on you."

  "That is a shirt," I told her, taking the hanger from her and holding the item up to my chest. The hem hit just a smidgeon below my booty.

  "With the right boots, it's a dress to die for," Eddie decided.

  "How about the right boots and a pair of leggings," I asked, going for a compromise.

  My gruesome fashion twosome must have realized that was the best they were going to get out of me, as Eddie nodded and Ava reluctantly agreed with, "Fine. But we're leaving the top two buttons undone."

  "Deal," I said, mentally crossing my fingers behind my back. Hey, I could always button them back up again as soon as Grant picked me up.

  Clothing decided upon, I let Eddie advise on the right boots (thigh high with three-inch heels) and Ava advise on the jewelry (simple earrings and a large pendant to—as she put it—draw the eye to the cleavage). I topped it all off with a smoky eye thing and lot of hair product and blow drying, and the end result was pretty darn good. Even if there was a little more of my cleavage showing than felt totally comfortable.

  I grabbed my purse, and the three of us made our way from my cottage to the tasting room, where Grant had said he'd meet me.

  I spotted him right away at the bar sipping a glass of Pinot Noir, and, I kid you not, my heart actually did a little flutter. He was dressed in casual jeans and a button down, minus the blazer, that showed off just how nicely his biceps filled out a dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, exposing tanned forearms, and he was sans tie, the top button on his shirt undone, giving him a softer, more casual feel. His hair looked damp, as if fresh from a shower, his face was clean shaven, and I caught the faint hint of his musky aftershave from a few paces away. I almost felt a little regret at the fact we were going out that night. Suddenly I could think of a whole lot of fun we could have staying in.

  I blamed the hormone rush that it took me a moment to realize he was not alone.

  I watched Jean Luc fill a second glass and slide it across the bar to Grant's companion—David Allen. In contrast to my date, David looked like he'd come straight from a daylong binge of playing video games and smoking pot—his jeans torn, his black T-shirt just a little too loose, and his dark hair pulled back in a messy man bun. He laughed at something Grant said as he took a long swig of his wine, and I wondered what they were talking about. Usually when law enforcement appeared, the card shark took that as his cue to leave.

  David was the first to look up as we entered the room. "Wow," he said, setting his glass down as he gave my outfit a once-over. "Someone is looking to get lucky tonight." He grinned at Grant and gave him a wink.

  My cheeks suddenly felt as red as my low cut shirt. I self-consciously buttoned it back up one. "David," I said, glancing at his glass. "Here for the free wine again?"

  "And the company. I was just having a lovely chat with your detective here."

  I was about to protest that he wasn't my detective, but with how good he looked—and smelled now that I was up close—I was rethinking that issue.

  "Hey," Grant said, rising from his barstool to give me a quick peck on the cheek.

  "Hey yourself," I replied.

  "You look lovely." His eyes strayed only the slightest to the cleavage-highlighting pendant Ava had loaned me. I made a mental note to later thank her with a bottle of wine from our special section of the cellar.

  "Thanks," I said, still blushing.

  "Is it weird to invite you to join us for a glass of wine at your own winery?" Grant asked, indicated the barstool next to him as he gave me a crooked grin.

  "Not at all," I told him. He could have invited me to go to Mars right then, and I would have been delighted.

  Jean Luc pulled a glass down for me, adding another one for Ava as she sat next to David. Eddie walked around the bar and grabbed his own, which earned him a scowl from Jean Luc, but it was hardly a deterrent.

  "I was telling Detective Grant, here," David said, "that I've just come from an auction at San Francisco Bay Auctions."

  "Oh?" I asked, tearing my eyes off the hunk of man beside me to give David my attention. "The Pablo Miscetti?"

  David nodded. "Uh-huh."

  "How much did it end up going for?" Ava asked, sipping from her glass.

  "Four hundred and seventy-two."

  Eddie did a low whistle. "Wow. Let's hope that helps the Somersbys pay their bill now." He nodded in my direction.

  After the truth about Freddie had come to light, and law enforcement had once again swarmed the B&B with questions for the wedding party, Edward Somersby had broken down and admitted that, yes, he had been selling off his art collection. At first, as he'd told me, he'd just been looking to liquidate a few items to pay off creditors. Turns out that while the Somersbys' holdings were plentiful, their debts were just as large. I wasn't the only person Edward Somersby had been putting off paying. In fact, he'd been in such serious need of cash, he'd started skimming from other accounts—including his and his wife's retirement accounts. Which had actually been the missing money I'd overheard Meredith arguing with him about when I'd eavesdropped in the parking lot. Edward had been hoping to "handle it" and replace the money by selling the Miscetti.

  That's when he'd thought of Juliet's ex-boyfriend, Justin Hall.

  We'd been right in assuming Edward had commissioned Justin to paint Sunlit Pasture for him. According to Justin—who had been more than cooperative with police once they'd told him Edward was spilling everything—Edward had planned to auction the painting, swap it out for a fake, then resell the original again on the black market—essentially collecting twice for the same painting.

  Luckily for the pair of them, Edward had yet to make the switch. The fake painting had still been sitting in the back storage room of Justin's art studio. So no crime had been committed—only planned. Both Edward and Justin had been let off with warnings, and according to Juliet, Edward and Meredith were downsizing their lifestyle while he tried to liquidate more assets to pay off their debts. Legally this time.

  "One can only hope my bill is near the top of his pile," I said, mentally making a note to put in a call to him tomorrow.

  "Well, I will tell you one thing," David added, lifting his glass to his lips. "That fake Sunlit Pasture was good. I mean, scary good. I'm not sure I would have been able to tell them apart."

  "Justin finally gave you a look at it?" I asked.

  David nodded. I knew he'd been to visit the Art Imitative a couple of times since Justin had been cleared of any suspicion. "He did. Not really my cup of tea, artistically speaking, but the kid has some serious talent."

  "His original work was thought provoking," Ava added.

  I had to agree, even if the dark sort of thoughts they provoked were not ones I wanted running around in my head. "Maybe you two should do a show together," I suggested to David.

  He shrugged. "The thought crossed my mind." He paused. "Of course, it will have to wait until after he and Juliet get back from Cancun."

  "Wait—Juliet and Justin?" Eddie asked.

  I nodded, realizing I hadn't filled him in yet on that development. "He and Juliet decided to give things
another try. She's taking him to Mexico to get away from everything for awhile at one of her family's resorts."

  The morning after my confrontation with Baker, I'd called Juliet at the B&B, sure that news of everything—Baker's death, Freddie's con, and Bridget's relationship with her fiancé—had reached her by that point. I'd been surprised at how well she'd taken it. Of course she'd been devastated to learn she'd been conned and angry that Freddie had lied to her…but the fact that he'd been willing to leave that whole lifestyle behind for her and that he had truly loved her, at least as much as Freddie had the capacity to love anyone, had been something of a comfort. She'd confessed to me that even while she'd fallen for Freddie's charm, part of her had been unable to stop thinking about Justin and what might have been.

  Apparently Justin had felt the same way—he'd gone to the rehearsal dinner that night to ask her to give him one last chance, but he'd only gotten as far as the parking lot before Freddie had waylaid him and they'd come to blows. When I'd overheard Justin and Juliet arguing at the B&B in the parlor, he'd been trying once again to convince her to give their relationship another chance. At the time, Juliet had been mourning the death of a man she thought had been devoted to her. When the truth came out about Freddie, Juliet said it somehow freed her to leave that part of her life behind and start anew with Justin. And this time, she said her father had no say in the matter.

  "I'm happy for her," Ava said, licking a stray drop of Pinot off her lower lip.

  I nodded in agreement. "With everything she's been through, she deserves some happiness."

  "And what's more fun than a hot, brooding artist?" Ava joked.

  David Allen's eyebrows rose as he swiveled in his seat to grin at her.

  I mentally moved having a chat with Ava about flirting with David to the top of my to-do list, as I watched her wink back at him.

  "What I want to know," Eddie said, breaking into my thoughts, "is did you ever find out what Natalie was after in Juliet's room?"

  "Juliet's engagement ring," Grant jumped in, fielding that question. "According to Natalie, it was the same one Freddie had given her. He'd taken it when he'd disappeared."

  "And he used the same ring to propose to Juliet?" Ava scrunched up her nose. "What a jerk."

  "Chances are he'd used it before," I told her, remembering how Baker had referred to the half dozen times his scheme had worked just fine before Freddie had screwed it up. While I knew the police had a good lead on where to start unraveling Freddie's many identities, thanks to a warrant for PI Sean Carter's records, I had a feeling it would be some time before they tracked down all of Baker and Freddie's victims.

  "You didn't arrest Natalie for stealing the ring, did you?" Ava asked Grant.

  He shook his head. "Juliet decided not to press charges. After she learned everything Natalie had been through, she gave her the ring. Said it was the least she could do."

  "Saint Juliet strikes again," David said, raising his glass. Though I wasn't entirely sure if he was giving her a compliment or being sarcastic—his own lifestyle falling several sins short of sainthood.

  "And what about the feathers?" Ava asked Grant. "The ones found at the crime scene. Did you ever find out where they came from?"

  Grant grinned, but cocked his head to me. "You want to take that one, Emmy?"

  "They were there from Edward Somersby."

  "No!" Ava set her glass down on the bar with a clink. "So he did lie about seeing Freddie the day he died?"

  I nodded. "Before the ceremony. He actually headed Freddie off in the parking lot, catching him as soon as he set foot on the grounds, confronting him with what the PI had found out about his past wives. He told Freddie that if he didn't call off the wedding, he'd expose him as a fraud."

  "But Freddie didn't call it off," Eddie pointed out.

  I shook my head. "According to Edward, Freddie laughed at him. He threatened that if Edward told Juliet about his past wives, Freddie would tell her about Edward's forgery scheme. In fact, Edward said that Freddie tried to tell him they were 'cut from the same scheming cloth' and he looked forward to many more years of working with his 'dad.'"

  Ava snorted. "I bet Edward loved that."

  "I'm surprised he didn't kill Freddie then," David added.

  I shrugged. "Who knows. If he'd been near a bottle of champagne, he might have cracked."

  "So that was where he was for the twenty minutes that were unaccounted for," Ava mused.

  I nodded.

  "Typical blue blood," David said.

  I frowned at him. "He was only trying to protect his daughter."

  David shook his head. "He could have saved his daughter a lot of grief if he'd just told the police where the feathers had come from before they set their sights on interrogating her." He glanced to Grant. "No offense."

  Grant cleared his throat. "Actually, we were never seriously considering Juliet as a suspect."

  I blinked at him. "Wait—what?"

  He shrugged. "I tried to tell you that. Every time you asked about Juliet."

  I thought back to the conversations we'd had. He was right. While I'd pushed him to tell me what he had on Juliet, he'd never confirmed she was a suspect. I'd just assumed at the time that he'd been stonewalling me.

  "Then why did you haul her down to the station?" I asked.

  "We were actually focused on Edward Somersby at the time. We were hoping to get Juliet to give something away."

  Mental forehead smack. "You thought Edward did it?"

  Grant shrugged, sipping from his glass.

  "So did we," Ava confessed, pointing to David and herself.

  "Me too," I admitted.

  David laughed, raising his glass to the group in a mock salute. "Well, here's to being wrong, and living to tell the tale of it!"

  "Amen to that," I said, shoving aside thoughts of just how close to not living to tell of it I'd been.

  I tipped my glass back to sip the last of my Pinot, when I felt Grant's hand at the small of my back.

  "If we're going to make our reservation, we'd better get going."

  I shivered at his touch and nodded, the both of us saying our good-byes to Ava, David, Eddie, and Jean Luc before I grabbed my purse and walked with him out into the chilly evening. I followed Grant to his SUV, where he held the door open for me. But before I could climb inside, he stopped me, one hand going around my waist to spin me toward him.

  "That is a very nice dress," he said, his voice low, his breath warm on my cheek, and his eyes dark with all sorts of wicked promises dancing in them.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips. "It's a shirt," I said lamely.

  His lips curled into a slow smile. "Then it's a very nice shirt." His eyes strayed down to the one button still undone just below my silver pendant.

  Despite the cool night, a wave of heat rushed through me as his gaze slowly moved upward again, taking its time to linger on my lips.

  "We're going to miss our reservation," I said, my brain suddenly foggy.

  His smile widened into a practically wolfish grin as he leaned down, his lips whispering over mine.

  "Then maybe we should just stay in."

  Oh boy. All five million of my hormones just died and went to heaven.

  RECIPES

  Lobster Tails Thermidor

  2 lobster tails (fresh or frozen)

  ⅔ cup olive oil

  2 tablespoons butter

  1 shallot, finely chopped

  1 ⅜ cups fresh fish stock

  ¼ cup white wine

  ¼ cup double cream

  ½ teaspoon dry mustard

  1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

  1 tablespoon tarragon

  2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

  salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

  ¼ cup freshly grated Parmesan

  Preheat oven to 400°.

  With a sharp chef's knife, split the lobster tails in half lengthwise. Brush the lobster with olive oil and bake in the oven fo
r 15 minutes. When cooked and cooled enough to handle, remove the lobster meat from the shells, cut into pieces, and return to the shells.

  Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the shallot and sauté until tender. Mix in the fish stock, white wine, and double cream. Bring to a slow boil and cook until reduced by half. Mix in the mustard, lemon juice, tarragon, 1 tablespoon parsley, salt and pepper.

  Preheat your oven's broiler.

  Place the lobster halves in a shallow baking pan or lipped sheet. Spoon the sauce over the lobster meat in the shell then sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Broil for 3–4 minutes, just until golden brown. Garnish with remaining parsley.

  Makes two decadently delicious lobster tails!

  Wine Pairings

  Best served paired with rich white wines that complement the rich sauce, like a Viognier, Chardonnay, or white burgundy. Some of Emmy's suggestions: Calera Mt. Harlan Viognier, Maison Champy Mâcon Villages, Rebuttel Chardonnay

  * * *

  Brie and Baby Spinach Omelet with Toasted Ciabatta Bread

  ciabatta bread

  ½ cup olive oil

  3 large eggs

  ¼ cup whole milk

  salt and freshly ground pepper

  1 tablespoon butter

  handful of baby spinach

  2 oz Brie cheese, thinly sliced

  Preheat the oven to 375°.

  Slice your ciabatta bread into ½-inch thick slices and lay out on a baking sheet. Brush olive oil on each slice then place the sheet into the oven. Cook for 12–15 minutes.

  While your bread is cooking, separate the egg whites and yolks into two bowls.

  In one bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, milk, and a small amount of salt and pepper.

  In the second bowl, use a handheld mixer to beat the egg whites until they are stiff peak, about 1–2 minutes. Use a spatula to gently fold the egg whites into the egg yolk mixture, just until combined. Don't over fold—it's better to still see some egg whites than over mix.