by Cat Chandler
Jeremy threw up his hands. “Okay, fine. Yes, I got to taste his precious blend. And like Jim said, it was worth the price. Fine, we all had a sample. So what?”
“Not me,” Bill Stacy said. “I didn’t get an advance taste.”
“Oh, but you did, Bill.” Nicki smiled at his sudden frown.
“There’s a second part to this story, and it has to do with Stella. You remember her, don’t you Jim? She was your assistant winemaker along with George when he came out with that spectacular private blend that helped put Holland Winery on the map.”
“I remember her,” Jim nodded. “She left right after that. Haven’t heard much about her since then.”
“She’s working at Sandy’s diner, if you’d like to stop in and say ‘hi’. It’s the first job she’s had in ten years because George was sending her monthly payments all this time.”
“Why did he do that?” Jim asked.
“Blackmail,” Nicki said, then waited again for the gasps to subside. “George didn’t make that blend ten years ago. Stella did. They agreed to let George put his name on it for a price, and then she demanded monthly payments to keep her mouth shut. Which he paid her until three months ago, when he told her he was coming out with a new blend.”
Jim Holland slowly stood up. “George didn’t make that wine ten years ago? And we’ve been paying him top wages with all kinds of extra perks this whole time?”
“What are you getting steamed about Jim? He put The White Crown under because of that lie,” Bill Stacy growled.
Nicki held up a hand. “He hurt a lot of people because of that lie. And he was going to repeat it.”
“What?” Now Jeremy Brennan looked stunned. “He didn’t make his new blend either? Who did he pay off for it this time?”
“He couldn’t. He was broke and up to his neck in gambling debts,” Nicki said.
“We confirmed that with his bookie in New York,” Chief Turnlow added.
“Then the wine was his?” Jeremy asked.
“No. He didn’t have the talent to do that kind of blend. But this time instead of paying for it, he stole it.” Nicki turned and faced the bar. “Isn’t that right, Geri?”
“How… how would I know? George never confided in me. I had no idea he put his name on someone else’s blend,” Geri said.
“Oh? When I asked Stella who she told about her bargain with George all those years ago, she said hardly anyone. Just her mother, Victor and one of the interns she was friendly with.”
“Victor knew all this time?” Jim snorted, his eyes flashing fire before he pursed his lips and looked at the floor. After a few seconds, he glanced at Geri. “You were the intern when Stella worked here.”
“Jim mentioned that when I went to interview him a few days after the murder,” Nicki said, her gaze on Geri. “You must have realized your wine was being switched and remembered the story Stella told you ten years ago. All you had to do was take the key Jim kept on a hook in his office, and let yourself into George’s private room while he was off at one of the other wineries. You must have found your personal mark on some of those barrels in that room and figured out he was gradually switching his wine for yours.”
Geri kept her eyes down and her hand swiping the dishtowel back and forth across the bar. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“When you gave us a sample of your personal blend, I thought it was odd that someone with so much experience in the industry would create such a mediocre quality and not recognize it. It was also a strange coincidence when Victor said you’d signed and paid for ten American oak barrels,”
The assistant winemaker looked up. “That’s not unusual. A lot of winemakers sign out ten barrels at a time.”
“Maybe,” Nicki conceded. “But when the chief and I went to check your stacked barrels, we counted twelve, not ten. And two of them didn’t have your mark on the bottom. One of those was the same barrel you drew the tasting sample from for Alex and me. They were the only barrels in your area of the storage room that had no mark on them, just like the ones in George’s locked area. Those had no mark on them either. Because you, Victor and Stella came up with the idea and never shared it with George. So he never knew to check. After you discovered what George was doing, you must have started switching the barrels back. You know how to operate a forklift. Victor told me almost everyone working here could, including you.”
When Geri retreated into silence, Nicki tried another approach. “Since Jim and Jeremy are already familiar with the taste of George’s wine, I suppose we could ask them to take a sample from one of his barrels, and then one of yours. They can tell us which matches the special blend George gave them to taste. And Bill can also verify the wine is the same as the sample you brought to him so he’d take you on as his head winemaker.” Nicki glanced over at Bill Stacy. “Isn’t that right?”
Without a word, the owner of Todos nodded.
Nicki shifted her gaze back to Geri. “That’s why you were at Todos the day we passed you coming out of the parking lot. You were there talking to your new boss. It just hadn’t been formally announced yet.”
“You’re ruining everything!” Geri’s hands clasped in front of her chest, her wild gaze darting from face to face until it finally settled on Nicki. “You have no idea how hard it was. All those years, working, trying to prove myself, and doing personal blend after blend until I finally got it right.” She looked at Jim. “I knew you’d never give me a chance to be head winemaker. Not a woman. Oh no, that would never happen. So I took my blend to someone who would.” She smiled at Bill Stacy. “Someone who cared more for my talent than my gender.”
Her gaze came back to Nicki. “I let George sample it when it wasn’t ready. I thought that would be okay, and was so excited when he said it was good. The man who never had an encouraging word for me said my blend was good, and I should put up as much as I could. I used all my savings, and even borrowed from Victor so I could buy those ten barrels and the crush varietals I needed to make the blend. But he must have recognized how great my blend was going to be after the proper aging time, and he stole it. That horrid, little man replaced my barrels with ones he’d filled with some inferior, cast-off blend. I only found out when I offered to let Victor sample mine after he’d loaned me some money. He, Stella and I were all friends back when I first started. We knew each other's secrets, and we kept them, too.” She looked back down at the bar. “Victor and I are still friends. He would never tell anyone about my blend. But when I took a sample from one of the barrels in back of my stack rather than opening the usual one in front, it wasn’t my blend. And my mark was missing. So I went looking for my wine.”
Geri glared at Chief Turnlow and raised her chin a notch. “I didn’t do anything wrong. It was my wine I poisoned, and if George had asked if he could have a glass of my wine after he’d made four bottles of it, I wouldn’t have allowed him to drink it. But he didn’t ask. Because he stole it.”
No one said a word when the chief stepped forward. “Geri, you need to come with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“How did you zero in on Geri Gant, of all people?”
Jenna put the question to Nicki, but the whole group nodded and gave her expectant looks.
It was the day after the assistant winemaker had been arrested for the murder of George Lancer. During the last hour, everyone had decided on a spontaneous drop-in to see how she was doing and to share their astonishment at how it had all turned out.
They were gathered in her kitchen, enjoying the spread of cheeses, crackers, dips and veggie trays Nicki had thrown together for her unexpected but very welcome guests. As a special thank you to her friends and fellow detectives, she’d also made a large platter of gourmet sliders for Jenna, a bowl of zucchini fries for Alex and a dish piled high with chocolate candy with cream centers for Maxie.
Her three cohorts sat on the stools at the kitchen counter, while Tyler, myMason and Chief Turnlow crowded behind them. Everyone was relaxed as they
enjoyed their favorite munchie and a glass of premium wine, except for the chief, who declared he was still on duty and stuck to bubbly water.
Nicki beamed as she chopped more vegetables. Nothing was better than spending time with family and friends. And she included Chief Turnlow in that definition of “friend”, although she suspected it would be a long while before he acknowledged it as well.
She dumped the pile of vegetables onto the depleted plate and moved the candy dish closer to Maxie with a huge wink. But not before she stole a piece for herself and popped it into her mouth.
“I’d like to know that myself,” the chief spoke up. “Before you came to me with your suspicion on who killed Lancer, I have to admit that Geri wasn’t even on my radar. So how did she get on yours? What gave her away?”
Nicki smiled. “Just as I said, it was the barrels that told the story. Only my first clue wasn’t in the appearance, but in the size.”
“Size?” Jenna adjusted her large glasses on the bridge of her nose. “French or American oak, the barrels are all the same size.”
“Yes. Sixty gallon barrels.” Nicki nodded and grinned at Alex. “Remember the day we went to see Bill Stacy at Todos? And we saw Geri there that morning?”
“We passed her when we pulled into the parking lot and she was pulling out onto the road,” Alex said.
“That’s right.” Nicki looked at the rest of the group. “And I asked Bill what she was doing there, and he said she was swapping out barrels. Then later I asked Geri the same question, and she said she was delivering barrels because Holland had extra and Todos needed them.”
“They told different stories,” the chief grunted.
“What does that have to do with the barrel size, dear?” Maxie asked.
“Geri was driving a small compact with faded blue paint. I remembered it clearly. It wasn’t any bigger than my Toyota. You couldn’t fit one barrel in that car, much less several.”
“She lied,” Jenna said.
“They both lied,” the chief corrected.
Nicki leaned her elbows on the counter. “Exactly. Why would they both lie? At the memorial service, Geri told me how difficult it is for a woman to do well in the wine industry. Even I could tell that neither George nor Jim Holland were going to give her an opportunity. And she also said that she looked for a long time for a helping hand. Past tense. She didn’t say she is looking or still looking, she said it as though she wasn’t looking any more. At the time I thought she meant she’d finally given up, and was resigned to being an assistant.”
“Until Matt told you Bill Stacy and Jim Holland were searching for a head winemaker to replace George, except Bill had stopped his search,” Jenna proclaimed.
“Bill wouldn’t have any problem promoting a woman,” Alex said. “His sister is a doctor and his mother was the winemaker at his parents’ winery. He was raised with accomplished women.”
“Right,” Nicki agreed. “Besides, he told us he’d found his new head winemaker. I’m sure all Geri had to do was produce a sample of her special blend. Since Bill didn’t get a sneak taste from George, like Jim and Jeremy did, he had no idea it was the same wine.”
Chief Turnlow smiled. “So you were right when you said it was about the wine.”
“And a winemaker who couldn’t repeat history and buy someone else’s creation because he was paying blackmail and had a gambling habit. He was broke.” Nicki sighed. “Once Geri discovered he was stealing her wine, she started switching the barrels back. But she didn’t have enough time to get them all switched before George died. She ended up with two of his barrels still in her stack. She was counting on the death being treated as a simple heart attack, at least long enough for her to get all the barrels switched back.”
“But that’s not what happened, thanks to you,” the chief said. “You were sure it was murder right from the start.”
“And you weren’t,” Nicki laughed. “But you still sealed off the room until you knew for sure one way or the other. It made all the difference.”
“I really stopped by to let you know that our search of Geri’s house turned up the missing key and several bottles of what looks and smells like the nicotine used to kill George, and to scare you off. They’re at the lab now. It seems she was making the stuff herself. Had a ‘how to’ printout she probably got off the Internet.”
“That’s too bad, really,” Nicki sighed. “None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for George’s greed for money and fame.”
“Geri had other choices. She didn’t have to kill him,” the chief pointed out. “Don’t waste your time feeling sorry for her. You did an excellent job putting it all together and figuring it out.”
“We did an excellent job,” Nicki insisted.
Tyler reached over his fiancée’s shoulder for another slider. When she gave him a frown, he just grinned and moved the platter of vegetables closer to her.
“You two make a good team,” he said before popping the mini-hamburger into his mouth.
“A one-time experience,” Chief Turnlow declared firmly. “Isn’t that right, Nicki?”
“Absolutely,” Nicki smiled.
“I’m sure you can find something less dangerous to stick your nose into,” the chief nodded.
“Uh huh,” Jenna and Alex said in unison.
There was a loud knock on the front door. Tyler grabbed another slider and quickly backed away from Alex. “I’ll go see who it is.”
A minute later he came back into the kitchen, a huge grin on his face. He glanced over at Nicki. “I just met him, but I’m assuming you already know this guy?”
Matt stepped through the doorway and stopped short when he saw the large crowd gathered in Nicki’s kitchen.
“Um. Well, I just came to talk with Nicki. And. Well, um…” he trailed off as his cheeks glowed a bright red.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Talk? With that I’m-ready-to-grovel bouquet in your hands? Looks more like an apology to me.”
While the women raised hands to their mouths to hide their smiles, the chief gave Tyler a stern look.
“No use acting like you haven’t been in that same position yourself, son.” He walked over and stood in front of the embarrassed editor. “I’m Chief Turnlow. We spoke on the phone.”
Matt shook the chief’s hand. “Um, yeah. We did.”
Her eyes dancing with amusement, Nicki came around the island. She walked right up to Matt and gave him a warm hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” She stepped back and looked at the bright mix of daisies he was holding. “Are those for me? A house warming gift for my new kitchen?”
Nicki intended to give the poor guy a graceful way out of the teasing he was sure to get from Ty, but might have known Matt wouldn’t take it. He had an incredibly wide, honest streak.
“No. Tyler’s right. They’re an apology.” Matt smiled at her. “I got your article.”
Nicki tilted her head to one side. “Which one?”
“The one on the wildflowers, where you wrote about them not flourishing and finding another home if the grapevines got too bossy, judgmental and nasty. Even a pissed-off, clueless male can pick up on the meaning in that.”
Behind Nicki, Jenna chuckled. “Subtle, Connors. Very subtle.”
“Sometimes, it doesn’t pay to be subtle,” Nicki told him before turning her head and grinning at her friends. “What do you think?”
“He got on a plane and brought flowers. He can stay,” Alex declared.
Jenna and Maxie nodded their agreement.
Matt laughed. “Thanks. So, what are we talking about?”
“How Nicki very cleverly solved the murder,” Jenna said.
“I know. The chief called me just before I boarded the plane,” Matt admitted, smiling at Nicki. “Pretty impressive, Sherlock.”
“Okay. Then we moved on to what it feels like to know you’re toast,” Tyler declared.
“A feeling you’re certainly acquainted with.” Alex nodded, slapping his hand when he t
ried to grab another slider.
“Toast?” Matt sounded as confused as he looked.
“Yeah,” Tyler grinned. “When you screw up so badly you have to spring for a plane ticket so you can apologize in person.”
“And don’t forget the flowers,” Matt said, holding them out to Nicki.
Tyler shrugged. “Hey man, they’re daisies, not roses.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “I happen to know she likes daisies.”
“Well if you know so much about her, why did you act like such a jerk?” Jenna demanded.
The tall, dark-haired editor sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to apologize for. I was a jerk. A really worried one, but still a jerk.”
“Never mind,” Nicki laughed and reached for the flowers Matt was holding out to her. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Dinner, Drinks And Murder
A Food & Wine Club Mystery Book 2
By
Cat Chandler
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“In the end, what we discovered was that the clues were there for us to follow. The hard part was realizing that something we’d seen or heard was also a clue to the killer’s identity.”
Applause broke out around the room. Nicki beamed at her audience before turning to give her two best friends, Jenna and Alex, a wink.
“Unless it’s just screaming ‘I’m a clue’ at you,” Frances Wilder said loudly enough to carry over the clapping hands. She thumped her cane on the floor to emphasize her point. The oldest member of the group at ninety-five, she was also the most outspoken, and one of Nicki’s favorite people. The down-to-earth Frances made no secret of the fact that at her age, she’d earned the right to speak her mind.
Maxie Edwards, the hostess for the gathering as well as the president of the Ladies in Writing Society, raised a perfectly arched brow at her long-time friend. “Oh? Just which clue do you think was screaming out, Frances?”
