by Cat Chandler
Food and Wine Club Cozy Mysteries
Books 1 through 5
Cat Chandler
Books by Cat Chandler:
A FOOD AND WINE CLUB MYSTERY SERIES
(COZY MYSTERY)
A Special Blend of Murder 2017
Dinner, Drinks, and Murder 2017
A Burger, Fries, and Murder 2017
Champagne, Cupcakes, and Murder 2018
Tea, Dessert, and Murder 2018
C.R. CHANDLER BOOKS:
SPECIAL AGENT RICKI JAMES SERIES
(MYSTERY/THRILLER)
One Final Breath October, 2020
One Last Scream January, 2021
One Life Lost (Coming Spring, 2021)
Contents
A Special Blend Of Murder
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Dinner, Drinks And Murder
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
A Burger, Fries, And Murder
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Champagne, Cupcakes, And Murder
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
A New Series
Tea, Dessert, And Murder
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Author’s Note to Readers
A Special Blend Of Murder
A Food and Wine Club Mystery Book 1
By
CAT CHANDLER
Chapter One
Nicki Connors stopped and set her steel bucket filled with gardening tools at her feet. She placed her hands on the small of her back and lightly pushed inward, stretching her spine while she waited for her friend and landlady to finish looking over their newly created flower bed.
“The petunias should go over there.” Maxie Edwards pointed a perfectly manicured nail, polished to a high gloss in a color called Pink Bliss, at a small, empty spot of ground to her right. From the top of her silver hair to the toes of her expensive, backless sandals, the older woman looked ready to attend any high society, afternoon garden party. She certainly didn’t look as if she’d be doing the gardening herself.
Being overdressed to muck in the dirt isn’t a detail that would ever bother Maxie, Nicki thought fondly. She consulted the schematic Mason, Maxie’s husband and a retired police chief, had left for the two women to follow. Although Mason Edwards had traded his title of “Chief” for that of “Master Gardener”, he still expected his orders to be followed to a “T”. Something Nicki was sure she respected a great deal more than the retired chief’s wife did. So she wasn’t even a little surprised when there were no petunias listed to go into the spot where Maxie was pointing.
“Um. I think Mason wants the petunias on the other side of the bed.” Nicki held out the hand-drawn plan. Her generous mouth twitched upward at the corners when Maxie waved the paper away without so much as a glance.
“My Mason is a genius in the garden, but he doesn’t know everything,” Maxie said. She always referred to her husband of twenty years as “my Mason”, and now everyone who knew them had turned it into the ex-chief’s name, running the words together and calling him “myMason”. Even Nicki.
“I don’t know, Maxie. Your husband is very particular about his plants.”
Maxie laughed. “He can putter about and arrange the entire landscaping around the house to his heart’s desire, but the artist colony is my project. And I want the petunias planted here.”
“Okay,” Nicki said without any further argument. After all, she was extremely grateful to be part of Maxie’s “artist colony”. It was a group of six townhouses clustered along a circular drive built on the far end of the Mason’s property. Maxie only rented them to writers, or in the case of Nicki’s close-as-a-sister friend, Jenna Lindstrom, to people who helped writers. Jenna was a computer whiz, and Maxie was thrilled to have someone nearby who could set up and maintain her website. So was Nicki. Without Jenna’s help, there would be no website for the petite writer to blog from.
Nicki sighed as she dug into the dirt. She loved living in wine country. Maxie’s mini-estate was just west of the town of Soldoff, and not far from its much bigger and better-known neighbor, Sonoma. It was the perfect place for her. She only wished the reason she’d moved here was for a new adventure rather than an escape from bad memories.
Nicki landed on the Pacific Coast three years ago because she had to get out of New York City and start fresh somewhere else. Anywhere else. S
he still loved the Big Apple, and always would. She grew up there, went to college and culinary school there, and had been carving out a good career in its big city dining scene, too.
But her mother was also murdered there.
Julie Connors lost her life within steps of her top floor, rent-controlled apartment. Her body left lying beside her front door for her daughter to discover several hours later when Nicki stopped by because her Mom hadn’t kept their lunch date.
Six months after she’d buried her mother, who’d raised her alone since Nicki was five years old, she was still numb and dragging herself into work every day. Until one night she’d arrived home to find her roommate, Jenna, randomly tossing both of their things into boxes.
Confused and astounded, Nicki had stood in their postage-stamp-sized living room in the apartment they shared, with her mouth open and eyes as big as saucers while Jenna casually told her they were following Alex, their other former roommate, to California. Enough was enough. They needed to get away, and that’s what they were going to do.
So just ten days later, Nicki found herself standing on Fisherman’s Wharf, gazing across a beautiful, sparkling bay, and admiring the world-famous Golden Gate Bridge gleaming in the distance.
Once the move was made, Nicki started writing freelance pieces for magazines about the food and leisure life in the wine country of Sonoma, as well as a blog of her own. And to supplement her income, she also began penning spy novels. Her every-girl’s-dream secret agent, Tyrone Blackstone, had gained a solid following.
Fueled by her modest but steadily growing success, Nicki began including write-ups in her blog about the wineries she loved to visit. To her happy amazement, Matt, the owner and editor of Food & Wine Online, proclaimed her a natural wine enthusiast and critic, which prompted her to spend many of her spare hours reading up on the finer points of winemaking and, more importantly to her, wine tasting.
“… and I loved the article you wrote on Todos Winery,” Maxie said.
Nicki blinked. She’d only just realized her landlady was talking to her.
“Um… Todos? Yes, I did an article for Matt’s magazine on Todos.”
“I know, dear,” Maxie chuckled. “That’s what I said. I enjoyed reading about Todos through your eyes. And I’m sure Bill was thrilled.”
Nicki smiled. Bill Stacy was the owner of Todos Winery. He was definitely a cowboy who’d taken to growing grapes, and Nicki liked him very much. “He’s a nice man.”
“Yes, he is. So is that very attractive deputy, Danny Findley. Who, by the way, has a huge crush on you.”
When Nicki rolled her eyes, Maxie put her hands on her hips.
“I have it from a solid source. Of course, with your pretty face and figure, half the men in town have a crush on you.”
With her honey-blond hair, expressive hazel eyes, and perfect curves packed into a five-foot- two-inch frame, Nicki had not only inherited her late mother’s beauty, but also her only parent’s disinterest in anyone who never bothered to look beyond it. Which is why she glanced over at Maxie and shrugged.
“I’ve met most of the men in Soldoff, and I’m fairly sure a good number of them aren’t interested in women at all,” Nicki said.
“That may be true, but Danny certainly is,” Maxie insisted. “He’s a nice young man, and he has a very solid future with the police department. And those aren’t easy things to find in a potential husband these days.”
“Young being the operative word. I’m at least eight years older than he is. What is he? Twenty-three?”
“He’s twenty-six, dear. Five years isn’t that big of an age difference.”
With the last of the petunias planted, Nicki hoped their placement wouldn’t gain her the eternal wrath of myMason. She put her trowel into her bucket and stood up.
“I have a boyfriend, Maxie,” she reminded the older woman. “There’s no need for you to play matchmaker.”
“Until he puts a ring on your finger, of course there is,” Maxie said before jumping to another topic. “How do you like your new domain?” Maxie had the entire kitchen in Nicki’s townhouse renovated, with the last cupboard handle finally installed just that morning.
“It’s wonderful,” Nicki declared. “I feel like I’m trespassing in someone else’s house every time I walk into it. I love it!”
“I’m so glad.” Her landlady looked across the expanse of lawn and waved. “Speaking of doing something criminal, here comes my Mason with Chief Turnlow.
Nicki swiveled around and lifted a hand to shade her eyes. The two men were slowly walking in their direction, with the new police chief doing most of the talking. He was a big man, with thinning hair and blue eyes which could quickly transform into a laser-sharp gaze.
Picking up her bucket, Nicki took a big, comically exaggerated step away from Maxie.
“I don’t want to be anywhere near you when your husband sees where you told me to put the petunias.”
“That’s all right, dear. I’m sure I can talk him out of any bad mood over such a minor transgression.” Maxie paused and smiled as the two men came within earshot.
Mason Edwards was only an inch or so taller than his wife, with gray hair and a matching mustache in the same shade. He had a lean build he kept trim by doing the gardening all over their large property, as well as looking after a good piece of the public areas in town. It saved the local councilmen from having to budget any money to keep the central square mowed and attractively landscaped for the hordes of tourists that descended on Soldoff every weekend.
“Hello, dear.” Maxie gave her husband a peck on the cheek.
Just as Nicki had feared, he immediately looked over at the petunias then frowned at his wife. “I guess we’ll be discussing this later.”
“Of course.” Maxie smiled at the big man standing next to Mason. “Good afternoon, Chief Turnlow. I hope everything is calm in Soldoff today.”
The chief’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It is, Maxie. Just a speeder or two racing through town on their way to Sonoma.” He looked over at Nicki and nodded. “Hello, Nicki.”
“Chief. Soldoff must be a bit tame after Los Angeles,” she commented. Chief Turnlow had spent twenty years in the LAPD homicide department. Nicki liked him, and even occasionally wished he’d been the one assigned to her mother’s case. Maybe then it wouldn’t have gone cold.
“Peace and quiet can be a good thing,” the chief replied.
Nicki couldn’t have agreed more.
Chapter Two
Nicki was dropping wide-cut noodles into a pot of boiling water, and congratulating herself over the fact her back wasn’t stiff after all the flower planting activities from the day before, when a familiar voice echoed down the front hallway.
"Hello? Anyone home? Your door's unlocked."
Rolling her eyes, Nicki paused for the second it took for the front door to hit the side of its frame with a loud bang.
Jenna never closed anything quietly. Even when she, Nicki and Alex had pooled their resources and shared a just-starting-out-on-their-own, very compact, New York apartment, Jenna slammed doors. Alex was sure it came from Jenna growing up on her family's farm. Their techno-whiz friend was more accustomed to barn doors than those found in apartments or townhouses. And Jenna's habit hadn't changed, even after the three friends left their little apartment behind and headed west.
The smacking sound of flip-flops against wood floors grew louder as Jenna approached the kitchen. With a quick grin, Nicki ruffled her hair into a messy-looking array of uncombed strands before grabbing a spatula from a container on the counter. She threw a handy dish towel over the cutting board in front of her and started beating her spatula onto the towel just as Jenna appeared in the doorway.
"Are you serious?" Her friend laughed, brushing away a stray lock of thick hair kinked into tight waves. She'd gathered most of the unruly, dark mass into a band at the nape of her neck. From there it fell in a riot of tangles, tumbling halfway down her back. "You're expecting
me to believe you’ve worked yourself to the bone over preparing our lunch, and now you’re actually abusing one of your precious, gourmet ingredients by pounding it into smithereens beneath that dish cloth?”
Nicki shrugged and stopped beating the poor towel. "You never know what disturbing cooking habits I’ve picked up lately. After all, this is California, the land of all things strange and unusual."
