by Cat Chandler
“Such as?”
Nicki laughed at the wariness in her friend’s voice. “Such as an hour or so of your computer skills?”
Jenna threw her head back and closed her eyes. “Tell me you did not screw up your website.”
“Okay. I did not screw up my website,” Nicki dutifully repeated. “I want you to search someone’s computer.”
“And will anyone care if I search this computer? Like, someone who can issue an arrest warrant?” Jenna asked.
“The owner is dead, so I don’t believe so,” Nicki said.
Jenna’s eyes went wide. “Not George Lancer’s computer? You want me to hack into George Lancer’s computer?”
Grabbing her measuring cups from a peg on the wall, Nicki scooped out flour into the mixing bowl. “Not hack. Just take a look if it happens to be easy to get into.”
“Looking over files stored on a computer without the owner’s permission is hacking, Nicki,” Jenna stated. She sat on one of the kitchen stools and put her forehead in her hands.
“Well, the owner is dead and can’t give permission, so it’ll be fine.” Nicki went on measuring and stirring ingredients together in the bowl.
“And are we going to do some B&E too? I mean, what’s a little breaking and entering in order to hack a computer between friends?”
Nicki put down her spoon and shook her head. “We aren’t going to be breaking into George’s house. It so happens we’ll have an invitation to be there.”
“We will?”
Nicki grinned and picked up her cell phone. “Of course. Just as soon as I make this call.” She consulted her contacts list and selected a number. It was answered after the first ring.
“Hi, Geri. It’s Nicki Connors. I was wondering if I could bring a big, pan of lasagna to the memorial service tomorrow?”
Chapter Thirteen
“I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed the lemon cake you made. Maybe you should offer baking lessons as a silent auction item at our Literacy for Kids fund-raising dinner? And that wonderful wine you brought! I could have a glass every day.” Mrs. Johnson smiled, adjusting her purple hat with the fancy quill pen attached to the outer band. Each woman in the Ladies in Writing Society proudly wore her hat to every meeting. Nicki had hers on as well, although she hadn’t carefully positioned it on her head until she’d arrived at Maxie’s very large, impressive home.
Nicki handed Mrs. Johnson the last unopened bottle of wine. “There you go, Chloe. Please enjoy.”
“If I had three small children running around my house the way you do, Chloe Johnson, I’d have a drink of something every day. That wine could hold you for a spell, but you’ll want to switch to whiskey when they get to be teenagers.” Frances Wilder chuckled at her own humor. She held her back straight as she leaned against her cane and shook her head at the younger women around her. “When you reach my age, it’s not wine and lemon cake that make your day, but wine and beefcake.”
Nicki smiled. Frances was ninety-five, at least that’s what she admitted to, and as outspoken as every one of those years earned her the right to be.
“The wine is good, but that Tyrone Blackstone of yours is better. He’s so much fun to read about. Wish I’d met someone like him when I was young enough to appreciate it,” Frances declared.
“I wish they’d make someone like him,” Chloe said, holding the wine close as she gathered up her light jacket and matching purse. “Not that I’m complaining about Chuck. He’s a wonderful man. I’d hate for him to think I’m dreaming about someone else.”
Frances reached over and patted the forty-something Chloe’s hand. “Don’t you worry about it. Men are blind when they look into mirrors. They all believe they’re Tyrone Blackstone.” She looked around the group gathering near the front door. “And women are blind, too. All we see in a mirror are our faults. It’s a wonder the two sexes ever got together.”
Laughter flowed through the group as last goodbyes were said. Maxie appeared in the entryway to formally open the door and wish everyone well and “good writing” until they met again. Which, according to Nicki’s mental calculations, would be at the end of June.
The bi-monthly meeting of the society had been occurring for two decades, ever since Maxie had finally settled down with “myMason” and shifted to doing much of her genealogy research on the Internet. The women took turns bringing dessert and wine, but the location was always Maxie’s large, Spanish-style house with its generous living areas built around a huge, center-patio space. Nicki loved the house, and especially the gourmet kitchen that was at least twice the size of the one she had in her town house.
Someday, Nicki thought. Someday I’m going to have a kitchen like that and a wine closet. But for now, she was content with her own space and simply being able to admire Maxie’s beautiful home.
She mingled in with the rest of the ladies moving toward the door. When she came up alongside her hostess, Maxie’s hand shot out and latched onto Nicki’s arm.
“Oh, Nicki. Would you be a dear and help me straighten up?”
“Um. Sure. Of course,” Nicki said. Maxie had a housekeeper every day of the week except Sundays, so Nicki knew the request had nothing to do with picking up glasses and plates.
It took another ten minutes, but Maxie finally managed to herd everyone out the door, with Frances being the last one.
“You don’t need anyone to help you clean up.” The white-haired, ram-rod-straight woman pointed her ornately carved, wooden cane at Maxie. “I’ve known you for thirty-five years, Maxie Edwards, and you’re up to something.”
“So what if I am? It’s not as if I’m breaking the law.” Maxie jerked her head toward the open door. “Go on, Frances, before I call my Mason and have him toss you out.”
“He’d do nothing of the sort. Besides, he’s not even home,” Frances retorted, but she moved out the door, turning to look back at Maxie and Nicki before continuing down the walkway. “You’ll call me tomorrow with all the details of your shenanigans?”
“Of course,” Maxie yelled at her back. “Don’t I always?”
With a last crackle of laughter, Frances went on her way, waving a greeting to her grandson who’d been reading in his grandmother’s white, Lincoln Town Car until she was ready to go home.
Maxie closed the door and ushered Nicki into a book-lined study off the main entryway. “We’ll be more comfortable in here, dear. Would you like another glass of wine?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine,” Nicki said, settling into a wide, overstuffed, leather chair.
Maxie sat too and folded her hands in front of her. “Well, is it?”
Puzzled, Nicki cocked her head to one side. “Is it what?”
“Illegal. Whatever we’ll be doing. Is it illegal?” Maxie asked.
Nicki’s mouth opened before she had a chance to come up with what to say. She didn’t want to blurt out that she’d asked Jenna to hack into George’s computer, but then again, she didn’t want to lie to Maxie either.
“What makes you think I’m doing anything at all?” Nicki hedged.
“Well we have to do something, otherwise the case will go cold,” Maxie said. “I know you spoke to Jim Holland today. That was on the ‘to do’ list. What do you plan to do next?”
“I thought I’d drop in on George’s memorial service this afternoon. My boyfriend will be here this evening to take me out to dinner. Do you have any suggestions where we should go? Some place romantic?”
“I’m sure you’ve been there several times, but Antonio’s is your best choice. Nice Italian food, good wine, low lighting. It’s perfect for a romantic night out. Are you going to the memorial by yourself, dear?”
Realizing Maxie was not going to be distracted, Nicki laughed. “No. Jenna is coming with me.”
“Then you are up to something,” Maxie declared. “I’m coming too. My car is much more reliable, in case we need to make a quick getaway.”
With no ready excuse coming to mind, Nicki smiled and nodded. “
I’d love to have you come with us.”
Nicki set the oversized lasagna pan on the back seat of Maxie’s Mercedes and slid in next to it, while Jenna got into the front passenger seat.
“That’s a very nice-looking dish you’ve made,” Maxie remarked as she carefully backed out of the driveway and headed down the main road. “Lasagna, judging by the delicious smell.”
Opening her car window, Nicki tried to let some air circulate into the vehicle. “I don’t want your beautiful car smelling like pasta sauce for the next week. We should have taken mine.”
“And break down while we’re there so we’d be forced to spend the night at the winery of death?” Jenna faked a huge shudder. “No thank you.”
“Winery of death,” Nicki muttered, rolling her eyes. “That’s kind of dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Oh, a little drama makes the world go round, dear,” Maxie said, smiling at Nicki in the rearview mirror. “So does an occasional bit of bribery.”
“What are you implying? That our Nicki would stoop so low as to bribe someone with her magnificent culinary skills? Why I’m shocked, truly shocked,” Jenna said with a grin.
Nicki leaned forward and poked her friend with her index finger. “I haven’t ever heard you complain. And a few times you’ve even demanded that I bribe you.”
“Well I’m still enjoying my candy,” Maxie declared. “Who are we bribing at the memorial?”
“It isn’t a bribe so much as an entrance fee. And to help Geri out,” Nicki said.
“How in the world does a lasagna help Geri?” Maxie asked.
“Jim wouldn’t pay for a memorial service so Geri is putting out her own funds to hold one. She asked the winery employees to each bring something to help out,” Nicki explained.
Maxie nodded her understanding. “Very thoughtful to go to the trouble, and it’s an excellent entrance fee.”
“And hopefully a good distraction,” Jenna chimed in. “So no one will notice me poking around in the dead man’s computer.”
“Really? You’re going to break into his computer?” Maxie asked. “I imagine that’s the illegal part of the adventure?”
“Hacking,” Jenna said. “It’s called hacking, and yes, it’s most definitely illegal.”
Nicki placed a protective hand on the lasagna pan as the car swung around a corner. “Hopefully all we’ll be doing is turning it on and everything will pop right up. No hacking necessary.”
Now Jenna rolled her eyes. “Even if he has absolutely no security on his machine, downloading personal files without the owner’s permission is theft. And that’s illegal.”
“Well, dear, if it bothers you, then simply email the files. People email files all the time. I certainly do,” Maxie said.
Jenna sighed and shook her head. “I’m not emailing files. The next person who comes along and looks at his computer, which will probably be the police, will find that email and know we stole those files.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, oblong object. “I brought a thumb drive. We’ll download whatever we find onto this, and Nicki can pull it up and go over it any time she wants. And if I end up in jail, I expect a much better bribe than a pan of lasagna.”
“It’s big enough I could bake a real file into it,” Nicki said.
“Ha, ha.” Jenna slouched further in her seat, mumbling something about stripes and solitary confinement.
A few minutes later they pulled into the winery’s driveway. Maxie bypassed the parking lot and continued past the production buildings, heading for a small house at the far end of the road. It was lit up and had cars parked everywhere around it. Maxie found a spot to park and the three of them walked toward the slightly sagging steps leading up to a small, front porch.
Maxie leaned over and whispered in Nicki’s ear. “You two distract them with the lasagna while I search for George’s computer.”
Not sure if that was such a good idea, Nicki shook her head. “Maybe we should let Jenna find the computer.”
“Nonsense. No one will pay any attention to an old woman wandering about.”
Nicki didn’t think Maxie was the type to blend into the woodwork. No, that was more Geri’s style. Who just happened to be at the door to greet them.
“Hi, Geri.” Nicki was spared the decision of whether or not to give the woman a hug since she was holding the big lasagna pan.
“Hello, Nicki.” Geri turned to look at Maxie. “Mrs. Edwards. It’s nice of you to come.”
“It’s the least I could do for a prominent member of our community. Why everyone knows Mr. Lanciere’s wines helped put our little area on the map,” Maxie said, her features set in a properly somber expression. She pulled Jenna forward. “Do you know Jenna Lindstrom?”
Geri nodded but didn’t offer her hand. “Yes. We met when Nicki tried to break into George’s aging room. How did you know George?”
“Through Nicki,” Jenna said without missing a beat.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend,” Nicki said. “I’m not comfortable attending these types of things by myself.” When Geri glanced over at Maxie, Nicki added, “We met Maxie outside.”
When Geri remained silent, Nicki held out the lasagna pan. “This is getting a little heavy. Where would you like me to put it?”
Geri looked at the pan and smiled. “This will be a big help. The kitchen is that way.” She pointed to an open doorway off the tiny dining room.
Nicki handed the pan to Jenna. “It’s right through there.”
“Okay,” Jenna said, holding the lasagna pan in front of her and marching off.
Maxie nodded at Nicki and Geri. “I’d better help her.”
Left alone with the assistant winemaker, Nicki rolled up on her toes and back down again, searching for something to start a conversation. Since anything brilliant eluded her, Nicki went for the obvious.
“It was nice of you to arrange for this memorial for George.”
The woman shrugged. “It was the decent thing to do.”
Grabbing the bull by the horns, Nicki tried a more direct line of approach. “I spoke with Jim Holland today. He told me that he wouldn’t pay for a memorial and all of this is coming out of your pocket?”
When Nicki simply got another shrug as a response, she tried again. “He said he’d put out enough money for the tasting event. I’m surprised George didn’t have to pay for that himself since Holland wouldn’t be sponsoring the wine.”
“George promised him a case of the wine in exchange for putting on the event,” Geri said. “So Jim would have been paid. Probably more than the event was worth.”
Now that was very interesting. Jim hadn’t mentioned that little piece of information, and Nicki wondered if Jeremy Brennan had any idea George’s wine wasn’t going to be exclusive to Trax.
“But no one knows that since we didn’t get to taste the wine. Jim said he hasn’t had so much as a sip.”
Geri seemed to shrink in on herself. “I’m just guessing the wine is worth a great deal.”
“Jim also said he’s hired an attorney to secure his rights to the wine, since George has no family.”
Another shrug had Nicki fighting a rising sense of frustration. She doubted she’d get much more information out of Geri Gant.
“The turnout is very nice.” Nicki took a quick glance around the crowded living room. “Will you be saying a few words?”
Geri looked positively horrified. “Heavens, no.”
Nicki’s mouth drooped at the corners and she nodded slowly. “I understand. He wasn’t very nice to you, was he?”
The assistant’s back stiffened and she looked at the ground when she answered. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Why did you put up with him treating you that way?” Nicki asked softly. “I’m sure you could have found a position at another winery.”
“It’s not that simple.” Geri’s head came up and for the first time she looked Nicki right in the eye. “I’m alone. I don’t have the safety net of a h
usband, and my parents and one sister certainly couldn’t help me out if I needed it. It’s not easy being out on your own, having to pay bills and make ends meet year after year on an assistant’s salary. Especially in an industry where women barely have a toehold. You need a hand up to make it in the wine business. I spent a long time looking for that hand up.”
Before Nicki could think of a response, Maxie walked up with Kurt and Victor in tow. “Geri, these gentlemen wanted to speak with you, and there’s someone I want Nicki to meet.”
While Geri turned toward the two men, Maxie pulled Nicki away. She looped an arm through Nicki’s and casually strolled across the living room into the kitchen. There was a veritable hoard crowded near the kitchen table, but Maxie skirted around the loitering bodies and went through a door on the opposite side. It led to a short hallway. She kept going, right out the backdoor, onto the porch, around the corner, and finally through another door to a room where Jenna sat at a narrow desk. The space was so small the three women barely fit inside.
“Here she is. I’ll go play lookout,” Maxie said, stepping back onto the porch and closing the door behind her.
“I feel like we’ve just been shut into a closet,” Nicki complained, leaning over Jenna’s shoulder to peer at the computer screen. “How did you find this place?”
“I didn’t. Maxie did. Looks like it used to be a storage room George had wired for the Internet. This system of his is old, he doesn’t even have a password on it. Maybe he thought this funky location was enough to keep anyone from snooping into his stuff.”
“Well, did your snooping find anything useful to our investigation?” Nicki asked.
“I don’t know,” Jenna mumbled. “Bank records, which I’ve already copied onto the thumb drive, and these sheets.”
“What are they?” Nicki asked.
“Again, I don’t know,” Jenna said. “But they look like they track some kind of sports betting.” She pointed to a desk off to the side. “Maxie thinks you should go through those papers. I mean, if we’re going to break the law, we may as well go all out.”
