by Cat Chandler
“It’s a little early for wine tasting,” Alex said. “I heard you say that alcohol is an afternoon drink.”
“It is, dear. Except on festival days, of course. The rule doesn’t apply then.” Maxie craned her neck as the compact car rounded the far corner of the square.
“And there’s Danny, keeping a spot open for us.” Maxie pointed to the young deputy standing on the sidewalk in front of the police department, watching the crowds of people stream by.
Since they were right there, and the space was indeed empty, Nicki pulled in. She gave Danny a friendly wave as the engine did its shuddering act before turning off.
“Hello Danny,” she called out once she’d exited the car.
“Hi, Nicki.” The brown-haired, brown-eyed deputy who had kept his linebacker form from his high school football days, flashed an ear-to-ear grin as he walked over and held the door for Maxie.
“Thank you, Danny. That’s very gentlemanly of you,” Maxie said, accepting his helping hand.
“Happy to help, Mrs. Edwards. But I’m not sure I can let you park here. The chief says we need to keep it open.”
“Whatever for?” Maxie asked, draping her scarf back over her shoulder.
Danny looked from her to Nicki. “In case someone needs to come talk to us on police business.”
“Well then, we don’t have a problem. Nicki is here to see Chief Turnlow. On police business,” Maxie assured him.
“You are?” Danny was back to smiling at Nicki.
“I am,” she said. “Is he here?”
Danny nodded. “Yes, he is. I’ll take you right in to see him.”
With a last nod to the other three women, Danny latched onto Nicki’s arm and walked her into the police station. Nicki was sure if any of the town’s residents had seen them together, they’d assume she was under arrest.
Fran looked up when they came through the door. “Hi, Nicki. If you’ve come into town to go shopping, you picked a dreadful day for it. The place is bursting at the seams and it isn’t even lunchtime yet.”
“Nicki’s here to see the chief,” Danny announced.
“Oh? Is that why you’re dragging her around like a sack of potatoes?” Fran shook her head at the young deputy who immediately turned a dark shade of crimson all the way up to his hairline. “You go on and walk through the square like the chief told you to. I’ll tell him Nicki’s here.”
“No need.” The chief filled the entire space of the narrow doorway leading into his office. He motioned for Nicki to follow him and disappeared inside.
“Thank you for the escort, Danny,” Nicki said. The young deputy snatched off his hat and ducked his head in response.
Once he was out the front door, Fran laughed and winked at Nicki. “He sure has it bad for you. Now you go on in, the chief’s waiting.”
Nicki skirted around the counter and walked into the chief’s office. He was sitting behind his desk with his hands folded in front of him. She took the same, straight-backed chair she’d sat in the last time she’d been there.
“I hope you’re here about something other than George Lancer’s murder.”
“Why is that, Chief?” Nicki asked.
“Because I remember asking you to stay away from it. Now please don’t tell me you’ve been disobeying a direct request from your police department.”
Nicki shrugged. “Fine, I won’t tell you what we found out. I guess I can always write out an anonymous note and drop it in the mail.”
When she made a move to rise the chief held out his hands and motioned for her to sit back down. “All right. I’ll save the lecture for later, after I hear what you’ve come to tell me.”
Nicki smiled. She’d been sure he’d want to know. “Have you had a chance to go over the information in George’s computer yet?”
Chief Turnlow shook his head. “We’ve had our hands full preparing for this festival. But we’ll get to it. I have a request into the State Police for more computer help.”
“Well, one of the many spreadsheets George kept had his monthly budget on it, and up until three months ago he was making regular payments to Stella, his former girlfriend.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t for child support,” the chief said.
“No. It was blackmail.” Nicki kept any expression off her face when the chief sat up straighter in his chair.
“Blackmail? What was she blackmailing him for?”
“George didn’t produce the blend that made him famous ten years ago. Stella did.”
The chief lowered his brows and scowled at Nicki. “Did this Stella also make the wine George was going to serve at that special tasting event the day he died?”
Nicki shook her head. “No. But she doesn’t believe George did either. She said he didn’t have the talent.”
He let out a breath and reached for a pad of paper and a pencil. “Go ahead and start at the beginning.”
She did just that, telling the chief everything she’d learned since they’d last talked. Fifteen minutes later she sat back in her chair and looked at him expectantly. “Well, that’s all of it. What do you think?”
“If you’re expecting me to have some kind of Charlie Chan moment and name the killer, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”
“Charlie Chan?” Nicki laughed at the reference to the 1920’s detective.
“I’m a major fan. Sherlock Holmes is fine, but give me a good, old Charlie Chan mystery any day. And I’m also a big fan of being listened to. Why didn’t you come to me first and let us conduct the interview with Stella?”
“Because I wanted to hear her story first-hand,” Nicki said.
“And because you’re nosy.” He smiled at Nicki’s annoyed look. “Your friend, who’s also a red-blooded, grown male, told me that.”
“Matt. His name is Matt.”
“Uh huh.” He shifted in his seat and reached for a folder from the inbox on his desk. “I should be annoyed with you and probably will be later, but right now I’m going to do some sharing, too.” He flipped open the folder and picked up a sheet of paper. “The lab test came back on the wine. Aside from the usual readings you’d get from wine, there was also a high concentrate of pure nicotine and components that make up a cherry flavoring in all four bottles. Nothing in the eight barrels. There was no nicotine in any of them.” He dropped the paper back into the folder and looked over at Nicki. “Which means the wine was definitely poisoned, and this case is now officially a homicide. That entitles the department to request more help from the State guys, and the police department in Santa Rosa.”
“That sounds like a good thing,” Nicki said.
“It also means you can go back to your blogging and magazine work and stop playing Sherlock Holmes.”
Nicki smiled. “Not Charlie Chan?”
The chief finally relented and grinned. “Nobody is good enough to be the great Charlie Chan.”
“There’s a lot of possible suspects,” she remarked. “Our board is completely full.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair again. “Yeah, there are. And now you’ve given me one more with this Stella person.”
“But it does make you wonder if this whole thing is about the wine, and George was incidental damage.”
“Collateral. The term you want is collateral damage, and I wouldn’t go that far. He was the guy slapping his name on something that wasn’t his, and that could have been the reason he ended up dead. Probably was. It seems to fit better than a sudden burst of anger at George.” The chief made a steeple of his fingers and gazed back at Nicki. “We haven’t found Benzo the bookie yet either. He could be in another state.”
“He’s in New York,” Nicki said absently. At the chief’s narrowed gaze, she shrugged. “His number is on one of the spreadsheets in George’s computer. I recognized the area code.”
The chief uncrossed his legs and stood up. “Okay. A New York bookie is a step too far. Go out and do some shopping, or go home and make a cake. I don’t care what you do. Save the world if
that’s what you want, but don’t do it in my town. I want you to let us do our job, and you go home and do whatever Matt has you doing for that magazine. Which reminds me…” He pinned her with a direct stare. “Is he aware that you’re still involved in this? Or do I have a repeat phone call to look forward to?”
Nicki rolled her eyes and walked out of his office. She waved at Fran on her way to the front door. As she stepped out into the sunshine, she almost collided with Danny.
“Sorry, Nicki. I was on my way in.”
She smiled and skirted around him. “And I’m on my way out, but I should warn you, Danny. I’m not moving my car. You’ll just have to give me a ticket.”
The deputy did an about-face and walked with her. “I guess I’ll have to do that. I’m pretty busy right now, but should get to it sometime this afternoon.”
Laughing, Nicki opened her car door then frowned down at her seat. There was a jar with liquid in it, sitting on top of a piece of notebook paper. Nicki picked up the jar and set it on the hood of her car before opening the note.
She gasped and took a quick step back, right into Danny. He reached out to steady her as his eyes went right to the note in her hand and the message spelled out in large, block letters.
STICKING YOUR NOSE WHERE IT DOESN’T BELONG MIGHT GET YOU HURT AND YOUR FRIENDS TOO
Danny grabbed Nicki’s arm and backed her away from the car as if it might explode. He turned his head and pointed at a young teenager walking by.
“Jimmy Pasten. You go in and tell Chief Turnlow he needs to come out here right now.”
The boy took off like a rocket as Danny removed the note from Nicki’s limp hand. “Why don’t we sit on this curb and wait for the chief?”
Nicki’s hands and legs began to tremble, so she locked her knees to keep them from giving out on her. The message was so simple and frightening. And she had a good idea what was in that jar. Jumping when the chief put his hand on her arm, she took a deep breath before looking up at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.
When she nodded, he walked over to the car and used a large handkerchief to lift the jar and remove its lid. He took a short sniff of the contents before screwing the lid back on.
“Danny, I’ll take Nicki inside to my office while you go find her friends.” He looked at Nicki. “Who came into town with you today? I heard Maxie Edwards’ voice through the open window. Was there anyone else?”
“I know who they are, Chief,” Danny said before Nicki could answer him.
“Good. Go find them.” The chief helped Nicki to her feet. “Let’s go inside.”
She walked in front of him and went straight back to his office. Fran bustled in a minute later with a cup of coffee that she handed to Nicki without a word. Nodding her thanks, Nicki took a sip before setting it aside. Her hands were shaking too much to hold it.
The chief came in and set the jar down on the far side of his desk.
“It smells like cherries,” he said, answering her silent question.
They sat quietly for ten minutes before there was a commotion in the tiny bullpen area and three women came bursting through the door.
“What happened?” Jenna demanded. “Dudley Do-Right here wouldn’t tell us anything.”
“What’s going on, Paul?” Maxie put her hands on Nicki’s shoulders.
Alex squatted next to her friend’s chair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just got a little scare is all,” Nicki said.
“Scare? What kind of scare?” Jenna asked, her glare settling on the chief. “What did you say to scare her?”
“Not me. This.” The chief slid the note across his desk so all four women could see it. He waited until their gasps subsided.
“It came accompanied by a jar with a liquid in it,” he added.
Nicki stood and looked at her friends. “It smells like cherries.”
“You think it’s the same stuff that killed George?” Jenna’s eyes were twice their normal size.
“What I think,” the chief said over their rising voices. “Is that you need to go home. And stay there. And erase that murder board, forget about this case, and go back to your normal lives.”
He nodded into the sudden silence in the room. “This is serious stuff. We don’t know who murdered George Lancer. It could be someone familiar to you, and who could get to you easily enough. Or it could be someone sent from the bookie in New York, and I don’t have to tell you what that means.”
“Go home and forget this case,” he repeated. “And this time it’s not a request, but an order. If I have to contact the governor himself to keep you all out of this investigation, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’m sorry, Nicki, I have to go. Tyler got home from his shift early this morning and picked up a voice mail from Chief Turnlow. He called the chief and then turned right around and called me. I just got off the phone with him.” Alex took a seat at the kitchen counter and reached for the cup of coffee Nicki slid toward her.
“How angry is he?” Jenna asked.
“If I don’t show up at home within an hour, he’s coming to get me. And there was no talking him out of that.”
Nicki visibly winced. She had never, never meant to cause so much trouble for her friends. When they’d pulled up to the house yesterday afternoon, Mason Edwards was standing on the lawn, waiting for them. Even with all of Maxie’s assurances that she was an expert at handling her husband, Nicki’s heart broke when she barely had time to wave before the former police chief ushered his wife into their car and drove off.
Nicki spent the whole evening hoping she’d call, but no such luck.
She was sure myMason probably hated her at this point, and now Tyler did too.
“I’m going to have to cut our visit short and go home to calm him down.” Alex’s lower lip started to quiver. “But I don’t want to leave you here alone either.”
“Hey,” Jenna said, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulder. “I live right next door. Nicki won’t be alone, and neither will I. You need to deal with Tyler.”
“Alex Kolman, don’t even think about staying here instead of going home to your fiancé. He’s probably worried sick after talking to the chief, and you can hardly blame him. I managed to get your life threatened, so I’m counting on you to explain to him why he shouldn’t hate me for getting you into this mess.” Nicki pasted a smile on her face so her friend wouldn’t break down and cry. Lord knew she certainly felt like it, and Nicki suspected it would only take one tear from any of them for all three to burst into sobs.
Dabbing at the corner of her eye with a paper towel Jenna handed her, Alex stood up. She leaned over and gave Nicki a fierce hug.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she whispered. After swiping a kiss along Nicki’s cheek, she turned and left the kitchen.
Five minutes later Nicki heard the front door open and then close behind her.
Jenna picked up her coffee cup and shook her head. “Relationships can be the very devil, can’t they?”
Instead of going along with Jenna’s attempt to lighten the mood, Nicki chose to stick with the invisible cloak of rejection she’d been wearing ever since the drive back from Soldoff. Why would anyone want to be her friend? She’d dragged them over half the county and had them neglecting their own work and family to go chasing after the killer of a man none of them even knew. Well, except for Maxie. But still, he was a man no one really wanted to know. And now they all had to live with the fear they might be poisoned every time they went out to eat, or had a pizza delivered. It was unnerving, and frightening.
Jenna and Alex were the only family she had left, and they had seen her through the worst times in her life. And how did she repay them? By making them a target for a killer. If the police didn’t catch George Lancer’s murderer soon, they might have to be on their guard for months, or even years. Maybe forever. Nicki bit her lower lip and fought to keep
the tears from slipping down her cheeks.
She and Jenna both jumped when her phone rang. Shaking her head Nicki looked over at it. The caller ID flashed Matt’s name. She ignored it and let it ring until voice mail kicked in.
Jenna quietly sipped her coffee. After a few minutes, she glanced over at the now-silent phone lying on the counter. “Is that the way you intend to deal with Matt?”
Nicki sank lower onto her stool. “It is for now. I simply can’t listen to any more lectures on the subject of amateur detectives.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Jenna agreed. “I can stay here tonight. It might make us both feel better.”
“Better or safer?” Nicki asked, a trace of bitterness in her voice. “I’ve made a fine mess of things, haven’t I?”
“If you did, you had lots of help. This wasn’t your fault, Nicki. We all wanted to solve the murder.”
“Only because I did, and you’re the best friends in the known universe to go along with it,” Nicki said.
When she saw the mutinous look in Jenna’s eyes, Nicki gave the computer geek’s hand a squeeze. “Would you mind being the best friend in the universe a bit longer and stay in your own place tonight? Unless you really are uncomfortable, then of course I want you to stay with me. But I really need some thinking time.”
When the computer in Nicki’s office started to ring, she exchanged a long look with Jenna.
“That’s probably Matt on Skype,” Jenna said. “Are you going to ignore that too? Because he’ll only keep calling.”
“There are ways to deal with that,” Nicki said. She picked up her phone and scrolled through the settings until she could set the phone to silent.
“I’ll turn the computer off later.”
Three days crawled by in relative silence. Nicki was sitting at her computer in her pajamas, even though the clock showed it was only an hour away from noon. She’d told herself, and Jenna who’d dropped by earlier that morning, that she was simply being comfortable while she worked on her latest spy novel. But thirty minutes into her writing session she’d switched over from the Word program on her laptop to her favorite, online game. The biggest issue on her mind at the moment was whether or not to make a run to the market later to refill her potato chip and chocolate-covered peanut stash.
