A Food and Wine Club Mystery Boxset Books 1 through 5

by Cat Chandler

  “You were blackmailing him?” Nicki gasped. That certainly explained the regular payments.

  “And enjoyed my life, not having to work and being able to take a nice trip every once in a while.”

  “Until three months ago, when he stopped paying you,” Nicki said.

  “He told you that?” Stella’s voice rose a notch. She snorted when Nicki’s shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Did he tell you why? He said he didn’t need to pay me anymore. That if I told anyone now, no one would believe me, especially because he had a new blend coming out that was even better than mine.” She smoothed out the too-short skirt of her uniform and lifted one leg straight out from the bench. “When the money was cut off I had to find a job, and now I stand on my aching feet all day.”

  “Were the payments being cut off the reason you had that argument with him at Trax?”

  “I wanted him to face me and tell me he didn’t care about our deal anymore. I couldn’t show up at Holland Winery. Even after all this time Jim would have tossed me off the place. He was furious when I left. He considered it being disloyal to him. When I told him I was leaving, he threatened to make sure I’d never work in the wine industry again. And I didn’t want to go to Todos because Bill Stacy might recognize me and he’s good friends with Jim Holland. That left Trax. I didn’t know that owner, and he didn’t know me.”

  “Who else knows about your wine switch?” Nicki asked.

  “You’re the first one I’ve ever heard of who George told,” Stella said, taking a drag on her cigarette.

  Nicki waved a hand in front of her face to keep the smoke away. She didn’t correct Stella’s assumption that George had confided the secret to her. “What about you? Did you ever tell anyone?”

  “A couple of people,” Stella admitted. “But none that would blab. One of the interns I stayed friendly with, and Victor knew, of course. We were all tight back then.”

  “Victor? The warehouse foreman?”

  “That’s his title now, but back then he drove a forklift and did mostly manual labor. He helped move my wine to George’s personal spot in our shared barrel room. It was about that time we all came up with the idea to mark our barrels, too.” Stella grinned. “A little secret we kept from George.”

  Nicki had already seen the marks, so that wasn’t news. “Anyone else?”

  “My mom, but she passed away a few years ago,” Stella said. She dropped her cigarette and ground it out with the toe of her shoe. “I wonder if you could do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?” Nicki asked.

  “Take my cell number. If you find out who killed George, can you let me know? He meant something to me once, and in a strange way he always has. And not just because of the money.”

  “Sure.” Nicki tapped Stella’s phone number into her contact list. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help find his killer?”

  Stella shook her head. “No. I don’t know who hated him enough to want him dead. But there’s one thing I do know. If George really had a spectacular new blend like he claimed, there’s as much chance that he came up with it as there is that he was French. Like I said. The man didn’t have the nose or the palette. You can’t change that, even after all these years.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I was stunned. It’s a wonder I didn’t fall off that bus bench when she told me their big secret.” Nicki finished pouring a class of the lovely chardonnay she’d picked up from her last trip to the Russian River wine region near the coast.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Maxie declared. “George passing off someone else’s blend as his own. Why, it’s the biggest scandal to ever hit our Sonoma wines. And it could ruin Jim Holland!”

  “It certainly would be a huge scandal if it became public knowledge,” Nicki said. “But Stella wants it kept confidential, and we should honor her wishes. It was ten years ago. That wine is long gone, and now George Lancer is too. There’s no point in dragging Holland Winery and Stella through the mud.”

  “The one who gains the most from keeping the secret safe is Jim Holland.” Maxie didn’t look happy about that conclusion at all.

  The four women were gathered around Nicki’s kitchen counter, enjoying an afternoon glass of wine while they pondered murder.

  “I agree. Jim Holland has the most to lose if it got out, but why worry about it ten years later?” Alex wondered out loud. “Besides, George was right when he told Stella no one would believe her now. Why should anyone believe her? And what does it have to do with his murder? It can’t be over him revealing he didn’t blend the wine that made him famous. Why kill him to keep him quiet over something he’d never talk about anyway?”

  “It’s scary that I actually followed that,” Jenna said. “Maybe Stella is right and he didn’t create this new one either. Would someone kill him to keep that a secret? Because then the winery sponsoring the new blend has the most to lose. And that would be Trax.”

  “But to make it a real threat, it would need to be after Trax was officially announced as the sponsor. George was killed before that,” Nicki pointed out.

  “What are we missing?” Alex glanced around the group.

  “Besides another bottle of this excellent wine?” Jenna poured the last of it into her glass. “I don’t have a clue.”

  They all looked at Nicki, who held her hands up and laughed. “I don’t either.”

  “What do we do next?” Maxie asked.

  Alex hopped off her stool. “Jenna and I are going to do a little shopping before the crowds roll in for the art and wine festival tomorrow. You’re welcome to come with us.” She glanced over at Nicki and winked. “Our writer-blogger friend will very likely be forced to call on Chief Turnlow in the morning after the makes her nightly call to Matt.”

  “Well you’ll certainly give him an earful tonight.” Maxie smiled at Nicki before switching her attention to Alex. “I’d love to go shopping. I have my eye on a lovely pair of sandals at one of the shops on the square. They’re very expensive, but I’m sure my Mason won’t mind since he’s in the dog house for that lecture he gave me after he found out about Chief Turnlow’s visit.”

  “He is?” Alex looked fascinated by the idea. “I didn’t realize men could still be relegated to the dog house. Tyler always claims that’s old-fashioned and just a way for women to get make-up gifts.”

  “Of course it is,” Maxie said. “What’s wrong with that? Doesn’t your fiancé enjoy buying you a trinket or two and spoiling you a bit?”

  Jenna laughed. “Ah. So it’s really for his own good, to let him do something he enjoys?”

  “Of course, dear. There’s a lot of things couples enjoy when it comes to making up.”

  “Thank you for that mental picture,” Jenna groused just as Nicki’s phone rang.

  Rob’s picture popped up on the caller ID. Nicki sighed. Naturally she loved seeing him, but she hoped this wasn’t one of the very few times he managed to get home early from his business trip.

  “Hi, Rob.” Nicki rolled her eyes as three sets of feet hit the floor. Within seconds she was all alone in the kitchen.

  “Nicki? Are you there?”

  “I’m here.” Nicki sat on a now vacant stool and took a deep breath. “It’s nice to hear your voice. How’s the trip going?”

  “It was fine until last night. I talked to Mario, and he said you missed the first class. Where were you?”

  Nicki threw her head back and closed her eyes. The first class was last night?

  “He covered the beginning of winemaking from ancient times to the middle ages. He said it was very well received by his students.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Nicki replied. “It sounds fascinating.”

  “Okay. It sounds deadly dull. But the next class will be all about barrel making, selling and storage. That should give you plenty of color for your magazine articles and blog.”

  Nicki wasn’t so sure. What was so interesting about how you store barrels?

  “So,
why didn’t you go to the class?” Rob asked, a note of impatience in his voice.

  Nicki decided to stick with being honest. “I forgot, Rob. That’s all. I’ve been very busy here with a project and the time simply got away from me.” She didn’t mention the project was murder, and refused to count that as being dishonest. It fell more into the category of avoiding an argument. She might use that same rationale later tonight, when she called Matt.

  “I’m sure everything you’re doing now is important to your career today, but you should also invest a little in your future,” Rob said.

  She laughed. “I don’t have any plans to go into barrel making or storing, Rob. I’m not very good at making or fixing things. That’s more Jenna’s forte. I usually call someone.”

  “Funny,” Rob said, his impatient tone scaling up a notch. “What I mean is that you shouldn’t ignore the opportunity to meet the movers and shakers of the future. Who knows? One of the people in this class might be the next, greatest winemaker in California. Maybe even the world. It could happen. Someone will be the best winemaker one day in the future. Why not someone from the class? And that guy would then be in your network. It’s a terrific chance to meet an up-and-coming genius.”

  “Geez, Rob. You’re in the wrong end of retailing. Instead of buying, you should be selling,” Nicki said. She carried the phone down the hall and into the bathroom. While Rob continued to point out the enormous opportunities she was missing by not going to Mario’s lectures, she reached into the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of aspirin.

  Telling herself it wasn’t her boyfriend’s conversation but the shock of hearing Stella’s story that had given her a headache, she headed back to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  “That’s why the established people in the industry give these classes, you know. It’s a good way to find the emerging talent in the field.”

  “Uh huh,” Nicki responded automatically then suddenly stopped and frowned. “Wait a minute. What did you say?”

  “I said that there’s usually someone in these classes with the talent to be an important force, and…”

  “No. I mean about people in the industry teaching these classes.” A sudden picture of a stack of papers with red letters across the top flashed through Nicki’s mind. Not simply letters, but grades. Of course!

  “Rob, I need to go. But I promise, promise, promise I will be at Mario’s next class. Okay?” She only waited long enough to hear his grumbling agreement before adding, “I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

  She tapped the disconnect button, slipped the phone into her back pocket and headed for her office. Within five minutes she had the local college’s current class catalog up on the screen. She put the cursor into the search box and typed: Winemaking.

  “And then she said that the wine was hers, and she made a bargain for George to bring it out under his name.”

  Matt whistled. “Whoa. That is huge, Nicki.”

  “I know. But I’m not going to print it anywhere, Matt. Stella told me it was off the record.”

  “Did she?” Matt’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Was that before or after she admitted it wasn’t George’s wine?”

  “After. And that might make her statement fair game. But it’s not ethical and I won’t do it,” Nicki said quietly.

  He frowned at her. “Stop giving me that half-accusatory, half-kicked-puppy look. I’m not going to publish it either.”

  Nicki let out a sigh of relief. She’d debated with herself on whether to tell Matt what Stella had said, and in the end decided he was not the kind of editor who’d go after a sensational headline just to make a profit. And she’d been right.

  “Thank you,” Nicki said softly, a happy smile blooming on her lips. It was nice to be so sure she could count on Matt to do the right thing.

  “The fact we’re not going to blast it all over the magazine doesn’t mean it won’t get out. I’m amazed it’s stayed a secret this long.” Matt rubbed his chin. “Who else have you told?”

  “Only my group,” Nicki said.

  “So that means Jenna and Alex. Which in turn means Tyler, too.”

  “And Maxie,” Nicki added.

  “So Mason will also know.” Matt gave her a crooked smile. “You remember Mason? The former police chief who still talks regularly with the current police chief?”

  Nicki groaned. “He does, doesn’t he? But I mean, what’s the point? How does something that happened ten years ago affect George’s death now? If someone wanted to kill him so he’d keep silent, they would have done it a long time ago.”

  “Jim Holland has a reason,” Matt said. “If you just found out the secret, he could have just discovered the secret, too. With George dead, his winery’s reputation stays intact and he’ll likely get his hands on the new wine. Brennan over at Trax had a good reason too. He’s already in debt, and George breaking their agreement would make a bad situation worse. Or Stella, because he stopped paying her and cut off her life style.”

  “Or a young, rising talent who George promised the moon to, and then realized that the famous winemaker couldn’t deliver. Or rather, George didn’t intend to deliver,” Nicki said.

  “And that was a definite sidetrack.” Matt leaned closer to the screen. “Care to let me in on why you went there.”

  “Okay, but hear me out. George must have known that Holland and Todos were looking to replace him. The wine industry is like a small town when it comes to rumors and gossip. I’m sure he heard something.”

  “Go on,” Matt said.

  “The fame from his last personal blend had faded away,” Nicki said.

  Matt snorted. “That’s an understatement. It died a good five years ago.”

  “Are you going to listen or not?” Nicki demanded.

  “Sorry,” Matt mumbled. “I’m listening.”

  “George simply couldn’t make a blend to match his last one. Stella said he didn’t possess the nose or the palette. Which means he could have been searching for another Stella. Someone with the talent but not the means to get the wine to market.”

  “And he’d go looking for that where? You said Geri was definitely not on that list. Maybe Victor?” Matt asked.

  “Or someone outside their little circle. Like a college student studying winemaking. Someone young who works at a winery and brought George one of his blends to get the expert opinion of his professor.” Nicki nodded at Matt.

  “Professor? You think George Lancer was moonlighting as a college professor?”

  “I know he was. I found his name in the class catalog at the local junior college. He was teaching Beginning Winemaking.” Nicki ended on a triumphant note.

  Matt was silent for a full minute. Nicki could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “That’s not something George would do out of the goodness of his heart. But why would he look there?”

  “Simple,” Nicki said. “Between paying Stella and his growing gambling debts, George was broke. How was he going to make another deal like he had with Stella when he had no money?”

  Matt took up the narrative. “So he starts looking for an unknown talent. Someone who’d be willing to work for peanuts, or even for the promise of a big payoff in the future?”

  “But the part I haven’t figured out yet is why would this unknown talent kill George? That’s cutting off your nose to spite your face, isn’t it?” Nicki curled her lips inward as she tried to reason it out.

  “We don’t need to figure it out. Chief Turnlow does. That’s his job. You have to talk to him tomorrow.” Matt crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  “Why? It’s only my little theory. There are all kinds of reasons George might have had for teaching at the college,” Nicki said.

  “Uh huh.” Matt’s arms didn’t budge. “What you’re saying is that someone may very well have killed George to keep whoever the real winemaker is a secret. Which means anyone who knows would be a threat. And you know the secret. So do your friends. To keep out of troubl
e, go tell the chief and let him deal with it. Despite your murder board and persuasive bribes with delicious goodies, the police can still tap into more resources than you can.”

  Nicki thought it over. She didn’t like taking orders, but Matt had a point. Everything she knew, her friends knew as well. If there was even a sliver of a chance that the knowledge could put them in danger, she wasn’t going to take it.

  “All right. I’ll go see the chief in the morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “This is very cozy,” Maxie said, causing a burst of laughter to erupt behind her.

  All four women were piled into Nicki’s car for the short trip into Soldoff. Jenna and Alex sandwiched themselves into the back seat, leaving Maxie the marginally roomier passenger space in front.

  Nicki grinned at her landlady. “When I become as well-known in my field as you are in genealogy research, I’ll be happy to buy a Mercedes so we can ride around in comfort and style. But until then, this is what you get.”

  Jenna leaned forward. “It’s good to see how the other half lives, Maxie.”

  “I’ve already lived this way. When I was your age, actually. I didn’t have one qualm at leaving it behind.” She cast a look over at Nicki. “Are you sure we’ll make it there and back? The engine doesn’t sound happy.”

  “The car’s fine,” Nicki assured her. “I’m more worried about finding a parking spot. It’s sure to be a madhouse in town today with the festival in full swing.”

  Her prediction proved to be true. The latest art and wine festival had kicked off the day before and was getting an early start today. The square was already jammed, with cars and pedestrians occupying every available inch of ground. Nicki slowly maneuvered her car toward the tiny, Soldoff Police Department on the opposite side of the square.

  “Since you’ll be stopping in to see Chief Turnlow before joining us for a bit of wine tasting, I’m sure we’re entitled to one of the spots in front of the station,” Maxie declared.