by Cat Chandler
“Such as…?” Alex asked.
“Jeremy for one. Especially after what Matt finally did tell me last night,” Nicki said.
“Let’s go to the murder board, ladies.” Maxie picked up her coffee cup, a huge smile on her face.
Nicki and Alex exchanged grins. Maxie Edwards really loved the murder board.
Less than a minute later they were all standing in front of the large, white erase board, staring at their trove of information.
“Since Jenna declared my handwriting is unreadable, someone else will need to fill in the latest information from Matt,” Alex said.
Maxie grabbed a marker and stood at the ready, her hand poised over the board as she looked at her hostess, one eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.
“Right.” Nicki walked over to her desk and consulted the pad she’d taken notes on the night before while Matt was talking. “He said there’s been talk for the last month and a half that both Jim Holland and Bill Stacy had feelers out for a head winemaker.”
“Do you think George Lancer might have heard those rumors?” Alex frowned.
“Maybe. It’s a pretty small industry when it comes to gossip, so he probably did, which would explain why he was so rude to them the day of the tasting event.”
“Unfortunately, he was always a rude man, so it could be just George being himself and he wasn’t aware of the rumors at all,” Maxie said as she wrote the latest information under the motives column.
Nicki thought that was also a likely possibility. “True. It’s interesting, though, that Matt said only Jim Holland has been inquiring about a head winemaker for the past few weeks. Not a word has come out of Bill Stacy.”
“So, do you think Bill decided to keep George after all?” Maxie asked. “Which leaves Jim as the only owner with a motive?”
“Or he found another winemaker and killing George was much cheaper than having to buy out his contract,” Nicki said. “It was Bill who mentioned George would get a large sum of money if he was let go for any reason.”
“It’s a great motive.” Alex nodded. “George might have been entitled to full pay for a year or more. It could be very hard, if not impossible, for a winery to pay two head winemakers.”
“Oh my. We may have found the answer,” Maxie said.
“George was probably nervous, so he was negotiating for a stake in Trax. Matt told me there was a rumor going around that Trax was selling a twenty percent stake in the business to someone. I think it was George.” Nicki nodded at her audience and held up a small, scrap of paper. “And I’ll bet he wanted more, so was going to demand twenty-five percent. That’s what this note means.”
“Well let me add it all to the board, then we can decide what to do next,” Maxie said.
As she was scribbling away, Alex gave her good friend a long, intense look. “I guess we’ll be visiting the owner of Trax to find out if the rumors are true?”
“And if that’s the reason he had the argument with George,” Nicki said.
“It was nice of you to take the time to show us around the winery.” Nicki’s lips curved up into a slow smile. “Maxie’s been telling me for a while now that I had to pay Trax a visit.”
“Indeed, I have,” Maxie said to a beaming Jeremy Brennan. “I’ve heard wonderful things about how you’re bringing this property back to life.”
“Thank you.” Jeremy’s gaze fell to the sparkling ring on Alex’s third finger. “And I gather congratulations are in order, Dr. Kolman?”
Alex smiled. “Yes, they are. Thank you. And please, call me Alex.”
“Who’s the lucky fellow?” Jeremy’s blue eyes warmed up as he led the three women to a table near a large picture window in Trax’s newly renovated tasting room.
“Tyler Newman,” Alex said. “He’s a fireman with Santa Rosa County.”
Jeremy shook his head. “I should have known. Those firemen get all the beautiful girls.”
Nicki sat back and kept quiet. She was more than happy to let the winery owner fall all over Alex. It gave her a chance to look around and note all the new furnishings and equipment at Trax.
“You’ve done a wonderful job with this public room, Jeremy,” Nicki said after Alex gave her a hard nudge under the table with her foot. “There’s a lot of new equipment in the warehouse and production rooms too.”
“The place needed a major overhaul when I bought it.” Jeremy signaled to the tasting room server, who quickly came to the table bearing a tray with a bottle of wine and four glasses already poured.
“That would take a good sum of money. Do you have investors?” Maxie put the question in such a matter-of-fact tone that it sounded like a simple business discussion.
Nicki sent her an approving look and a grin.
Jeremy shook his head. “Just an inheritance and a desire to produce excellent wine.”
“It must have been quite an inheritance. I mean, to put so much into updating the winery and purchasing the land and vines as well.” Nicki picked up her wine and swirled the amber liquid almost to the rim of the glass.
“What are you getting at, Nicki?” Jeremy asked.
She did a slow look around the room before returning her gaze to him. “There’s a rumor that a twenty percent stake in Trax is for sale.” She paused for a moment. “To George Lanciere.”
She watched carefully as most of the color drained out of Jeremy’s face.
“That doesn’t mean I killed him.”
His blunt statement had Maxie gasping and eyes widening all around the table.
“I hear rumors too. And one of them is that you and your friends are doing some investigating of your own into Lancer’s murder. And yeah. I knew he wasn’t French.” Jeremy lifted his glass and drained half the contents in one gulp.
Nicki straightened her back and stood her ground. “Really? Well I also heard George had wanted a bigger stake in Trax. Say, twenty-five percent?”
“Where did you hear that?” Jeremy demanded.
“I work in the media, Jeremy. We have all kinds of sources,” Nicki replied, trying to sound as if it was an everyday occurrence for her to access inside information.
“Oh, come on. You write a blog. How many connections can you have with a blog?”
She shrugged. “In a community this size, how many do you need?”
After a long moment of silence, the winery owner sighed and looked out the big window to the rows of vines beyond. “Good point. Not many, especially depending on who your friends are.” He glanced over at Maxie who gave him a polite-looking smile.
“It was quite an inheritance,” he said, looking at Alex. “But still not enough to cover everything. After all the expenses to fix the place up and get it going again, I couldn’t afford a top-flight winemaker.”
“Like George?” Nicki prompted.
“Like George,” Jeremy confirmed. “Or I thought he was. I found out both Holland and Todos were in the market to replace him. George said it was because he’d decided to use Trax as the sponsor for his new, personal blend. It sounded reasonable to me. I mean, his last blend put Holland on the wine map as a major player, and his criticism destroyed The White Crown.”
“But twenty percent is a pretty hefty chunk of your business,” Nicki said.
“It was in place of the salary I couldn’t afford to pay him. And he promised to put up all ten barrels of his wine. That’s over three thousand bottles.” Jeremy downed the rest of his wine, reached over for the still-full bottle the server had left on the table, and refilled his glass. “I was willing to give it to him, and then he demanded twenty-five percent or he’d take his precious wine elsewhere. He gave me until the tasting to agree, or he’d make the announcement right there at the event that he’d changed his mind.”
Nicki wasn’t about to tell him that he never was going to get all of George’s wine since at least one barrel had been promised to Jim Holland to pay for the tasting event.
“Is that why you were in such a bad mood that day? Because
you’d had an argument and told him ‘no’?” Nicki asked.
He shook his head. “We had the argument because we’d already made the deal, and now he wanted to change it. He agreed to give me the first taste at the event, and would act according to my final answer right then before the others were served their sample.”
Nicki felt more than a small twinge of sympathy for him. George Lancer had given him a terrible choice. Either turn over a quarter of his ownership in the winery, or face the winemaker’s public criticism and the possible ruin of his business.
“You need to tell Chief Turnlow what the argument was about before he finds out on his own.” Nicki nodded when Jeremy frowned at her.
“If I do that, he’ll assume I killed the little snake,” Jeremy said. “Him getting murdered got me out of a bind.”
“Except you still don’t have a winemaker,” Alex pointed out.
“I’ll find someone who’s young, talented and looking for a break,” Jeremy declared. “And will work for something a great deal less than a king’s ransom.”
Nicki considered that for a moment. “Speaking of being worth a king’s ransom, are you planning on taking any action to claim ownership of George’s wine?”
“You mean hire a lawyer like Jim has?” Jeremy shook his head. “George never signed a formal contract so I don’t have a claim to it. And a piece of my winery won’t be going into his estate. Jim can keep the wine. It seems to be bad luck anyway.”
“Did George mention anything that would make you suspect he had a gambling problem?” Nicki asked.
Jeremy blinked at the sudden change in topic. “Not that I recall. Why? Did he have a gambling problem?”
“Could be,” Nicki hedged. “Is there anything else you remember about the time he spent here? Was he on his cell phone a lot?”
“No more than I considered normal. And he only had one visitor, although she came a couple of times.”
“She?” Her ears perked up. From the corner of her eye Nicki saw Alex and Maxie sit up a little straighter.
“He never introduced her. But the last time she was here they had one, big, blow-up fight. I heard him call her Stella.”
The three women exchanged a look.
“Stella?” Nicki shrugged. “I’ve never met a Stella.” Which was true—she hadn’t met Stella.
Alex leaned over the table to get Jeremy’s attention. “I suppose you’ll need to start looking for that young, ambitious winemaker right away?”
Nicki said a silent thank you to Alex for distracting the winery owner.
“I’ve already put out inquiries,” Jeremy said.
“In the meantime, you need to talk to Chief Turnlow,” Nicki insisted.
“Or you will?” Jeremy glared at her, his palms slapping down on the table.
Maxie put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s best if you do, dear. These things always come out. It would weigh a great deal in your favor if you offered the explanation first.”
Jeremy hung his head. “I guess.”
“I’m sure the chief will let us know that you came to him on your own to tell him why you were arguing with George.” Maxie gave him a pointed look.
“Then I’d better rearrange my schedule today to take care of that.” Jeremy picked up the bottle of wine and bent at the waist in a slight bow. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies.”
A few minutes later Maxie backed her car out of the parking lot and onto the street heading back to Soldoff. The silence dragged on, with each woman looking out a different window.
“Well, that was intense,” Alex finally said. “Do you think he’ll really go to Chief Turnlow?”
“If he doesn’t, we certainly should,” Maxie declared. “Jeremy Brennan has an excellent motive to murder George, and he was at the tasting event so had the opportunity as well.”
“I don’t know if he does or not,” Nicki said. “He did have a good reason for wanting George dead, and an equally good reason for wanting him alive.”
“Now dear, I thought you wanted to solve this case,” Maxie said.
“I do,” Nicki frowned. “But I want the real killer caught, and I’m not convinced that’s Jeremy Brennan.”
“Then who, dear? Because I’m certain it isn’t Jim Holland. He simply isn’t the type,” Maxie said.
“It could be that bookie after all,” Alex chimed in. “That’s what Chief Turnlow thinks, and he was a homicide cop. They have instincts about these things.” She leaned forward from the back seat and tapped Maxie on the shoulder. “But he also believes Nicki’s involved because her mom’s case was never solved.”
“Of course that’s ridiculous,” Maxie declared. “Men have the strangest notions sometimes. Even former homicide cops, it seems.”
Curious, Nicki looked at her landlady. “Why do you think that’s a ridiculous idea?”
“Because, dear, it’s obvious why you’re investigating George’s murder.”
“And that is…?” Nicki asked.
“The same reason I’m helping you, and why we’re researchers and writers.” Maxie reached over and patted Nicki’s knee. “We’re nosy.”
Alex plopped back against her seat and laughed. “And there you have it, folks.”
Chapter Seventeen
The following morning Nicki made an emergency ingredient run to the local market. French toast simply could not be made without whipping cream and fresh berries. Having purchased those, plus a few other essential items that happened to catch her eye, she pulled into the circular drive in front of the townhouse only to see the police cruiser outside her door. Chief Turnlow was standing next to it, talking to Jenna and Alex. All three looked over when she came to a stop behind the chief’s car.
Uh oh, Nicki thought. This can’t be good. But at least the chief wasn’t dangling a pair of handcuffs from his fingertips. A sudden picture of her having to call Matt and ask for that bail fund flashed through her mind. She could deal with anything short of that.
“Nicki,” Chief Turnlow said, holding out his arms. “Let me take that for you.”
While she handed him the grocery bag, Nicki sent a questioning look to Jenna who held her arms out to the side and shrugged. A quick glance at Alex got her the same response. It seemed the chief hadn’t told either of them why he was paying her a visit first thing in the morning.
“Mind if I come in so we can talk for a minute?”
Nicki couldn’t help but smile at the big man standing on the tiny patch of lawn, holding a bag of food and looking like a papa bear trying to understand his cub.
“Well, Chief, you can either come inside or hand over my groceries. I planned on using them for breakfast.”
Behind his back Jenna rolled her eyes, and Alex gave the computer geek an elbow in the side to get her to behave. The chief barely raised an eyebrow when they followed him into the townhouse.
Nicki led the group to the kitchen, pointing at the counter when the chief asked where she wanted him to put the grocery bags. She watched him do a quick, cop-like scan of the room.
“I’m not hiding anything, Chief Turnlow. You’re free to search the premises if you want to.”
“Nice place,” he said, making himself at home on one of the tall stools.
Alex and Jenna moved around the island to stand on either side of Nicki.
Soldoff’s chief of police chuckled. “I guess you three come as a set?”
The women linked their arms through Nicki’s and stared back at him.
“Yes, we do,” Alex said.
“Absolutely,” Jenna stated at the same time.
Nicki sighed. “Stop this. He isn’t going to haul me off to jail.”
“I rarely do that to anyone who has so many powerful friends. It’s not considered a politically correct move,” the chief said, then smiled at the two women intent on protecting Nicki, whether she needed it or not. “I’m referring to her other powerful friend, besides you two.”
“You mean Maxie?” Nicki smiled.
“Her, too,” Chief Turnlow said. “But I’m talking about your boyfriend.”
“Rob?” All three women said at once.
“Wait, wait.” Nicki held up her hand. “You spoke to Rob? When?”
The chief shook his head. “Who’s Rob?”
“Rob Emerson. My boyfriend?”
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Ah. Then I talked with your other boyfriend. The one who owns that magazine you write for.”
“Matt?” Nicki’s jaw dropped to her chest. Why in the world did the Soldoff police chief talk to Matt?
“Is he in some kind of trouble?” she asked.
“It’s more likely Matt thinks you’re in some kind of trouble,” Jenna said while Alex nodded her agreement.
The chief smiled at Nicki. “She’s right. I didn’t call him. He called me. First thing when I walked into the department this morning the phone was ringing and your boyfriend was on the line.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Nicki protested.
“Funny you didn’t say that right off,” the chief said.
At Nicki’s glare, he blew out a quick breath. “I don’t have any kids, so have no experience in dealing with guys hanging around a daughter. But I’d say from my conversation with Matt this morning, if he isn’t your boyfriend, he sure wants to be.”
“We know,” Jenna and Alex said in unison.
“The only one who doesn’t know is her.” Jenna tilted her head in Nicki’s direction.
“All right, all right.” Nicki could feel her face lighting on fire. “Enough about my personal life. Why did Matt call you this morning?”
“Because he wanted to know if I had any idea who killed George Lancer, and how dangerous was it for you to be poking around my investigation.”
“She can’t help it,” Jenna said.
“She’s naturally nosy,” Alex added.
“Yeah. I got that,” the chief replied before turning his attention back to Nicki.
Nicki stepped away and shook off her friends. “You two, go sit.” She pointed at the other side of the counter. “I’m putting on fresh coffee, Chief Turnlow. Would you like a cup?”
