by Cat Chandler
Shaking her head, she pressed the answer button. “What are you doing up?”
“Good morning to you too,” Matt said. “You called?”
“I texted,” Nicki corrected.
“You asked me to call you as soon as I had a free minute,” the voice paused and Nicki heard the distinct sound of a yawn. “I’m free now.”
“You sound half asleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Nicki felt a twinge of guilt. She should have left him a voice mail on his office phone. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything besides your sleep.”
“I took my date home several hours ago, and why do you get to ask those kinds of questions and I don’t?” Matt sounded grumpy and Nicki couldn’t blame him. She’d disturbed him in the middle of the night, and the first thing she’d done was practically ask him if he had company in his bed.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t be asking you things like that. We can talk in the morning.” Nicki was about to say “goodnight” when Matt interrupted her.
“It’s morning now, Nicki. What’s on your mind? I thought you had a date with Rob tonight?”
Nicki frowned. She didn’t remember telling Matt she had a date. “I did. But it ended a bit strangely.”
“How strange?” Matt asked.
“We went over to a friend’s house to check on her, and found her… well, we found her…” Nicki stumbled to a stop. Even she could hear the shakiness in her voice.
On the other end of the line, Matt sucked in a deep breath. “Do not tell me you found her dead.”
Nicki closed her expressive hazel eyes and wrinkled her nose. “Yes.”
“Nicki, listen to me. Go to your desktop. I’m going to call you on video chat. I want to see you when we talk about this.” Matt waited a beat. “Can you do that?”
Even though he couldn’t see her at the moment, Nicki nodded. “Sure. But we can talk about it tomorrow, Matt. Really. I’m fine.”
“I’d rather have the talk now,” Matt said firmly. “When I call you, promise me that you’ll answer.”
She smiled. He was being a bit melodramatic, which was out of character for Matt. “I’ll answer. Talk to you in a minute.”
Nicki heard “more like thirty seconds” before she hit the “hang up” button. Still smiling, she walked into the office and had barely taken a seat and turned on the computer when it signaled an incoming call. She clicked on the button that brought Matt’s face up on the screen.
His thick mop of dark hair was standing on end in several places, with a heavy lock falling over his eyes. He impatiently swiped it away as he put on his wide-rimmed glasses with a thick black frame. Sitting there in a blue pajama top with the buttons mismatched into the wrong buttonholes, he looked like a very sleepy version of Where’s Waldo. And those mismatched buttons told her he’d probably thrown it on just now to be decent for their call. She tilted her head slightly to one side and gave a little smile. That was too bad.
He eyed her carefully before crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you always look that good at this hour of the morning?”
“Only when I haven’t been to bed yet,” Nicki assured him.
“And you haven’t been to bed because you found a dead body.” Matt made it a statement rather than a question. “Please tell me your friend had a heart attack and died from natural causes.”
Nicki sighed and shook her honey-blond hair, sending it brushing across her shoulders. “She might have. But if she did, it was caused by the large kitchen knife stuck in her back.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Matt groaned. “Not again.”
“I’m sorry. I told you we could talk about this in the morning after you’ve had more sleep.” Nicki hated to admit it, but she really did feel unnerved. This hadn’t been some stranger, like the last time. This time she knew the victim and had even talked with her just hours before she was killed.
“Since I’m assuming you didn’t murder her, it wasn’t your fault.” Matt’s voice was low and soothing. “Tell me what happened, and don’t leave anything out.”
So for the second time since she’d discovered Catherine Dunton’s body, Nicki went through the entire story. When she’d finished, she was amazed at how much better she felt telling Matt. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it since he immediately started asking questions the way any well-trained reporter would.
“Who did she have a meeting with that was canceled?” Matt started out and continued on for a good five minutes. Nicki knew he was trying to get a picture of Catherine and her life in his mind. Finally he paused and smiled at her. “Okay. You next. What did you see that didn’t make any sense to you?”
“What makes you think I saw anything like that?” Nicki asked.
“Because you called me since your so-called boyfriend didn’t even bother to be sure you got home. And that frown isn’t going to work, Nicki. I don’t care if you told him to go, or how long a drive he had. He should have stuck around and made sure you got home okay. But the bottom line is that you didn’t talk to him, and you sure can’t talk to Chief Turnlow after the warning he gave you about any future interference in police business, and I seem to remember that Jenna is in Santa Rosa for a big client meeting tomorrow, and Alex is probably on duty. Oh, and you would never be rude enough to wake Maxie at this hour.”
“But I am rude enough to wake you?” Nicki’s eyebrow rose as she stared at his image on the screen. It dawned on her that she had been keeping Matt very well informed about everything going on in her life.
Matt shrugged. “All part of the job. So, what’s bothering you, besides finding a body of someone you actually knew, which is bad enough.”
“A lot of things.” Nicki sighed and leaned back in her chair. “How distracted she seemed at the restaurant when she wasn’t that way at all during the Society’s meeting at Maxie’s house. But mostly her dinner.”
“Her dinner?” Matt repeated. “What was wrong with her dinner?”
“It was pasta with langoustine, so I’m sure it came from Mario’s.”
Matt rubbed a hand across the shadow of a beard on his cheek. “And so?”
“Why would Catherine order a dinner and take it home with her to eat on her dinner break? Why didn’t she just eat it at the restaurant?” Nicki frowned.
“Maybe she needed to make a phone call or check on something at home,” Matt said.
“If she wanted privacy for a call, she could have just stepped outside and walked to the end of the block. I just don’t understand why she went home for a thirty-minute dinner break where she managed to get herself killed.”
“So you think she was going to meet someone?” Matt asked.
Nicki shook her head. “Not unless she planned on eating her dinner in front of them, which doesn’t sound like something Catherine would do. The table was only set for one.”
“It’s possible that she surprised someone who didn’t want her to know he was there,” Matt said.
Again, Nicki shook her head. “So she set the table, sat down, started eating her dinner and suddenly someone who was hiding in the house decided to stab her?”
Matt furrowed his brow. “It could be that whoever was waiting for her intended to wait until she got home and just got lucky when she showed up early for her dinner break.”
Nicki pursed her lips. “Maybe.”
“But,” Matt went on, “you don’t think so.” He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes for a moment before lowering his chin and looking back at her. “You’re going to get involved in this, aren’t you?”
Nicki bit her lip and looked away. “You’re forgetting about the chief’s warning. He specifically told me to stay out of police business.”
“Somehow, Nicki Connors, I don’t think that’s going to stop you.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The following morning, Nicki was sitting at her desk contemplating whether or not to take a short break for lunch, when a familiar voice shot down the front hallway, bounc
ing off the walls.
“Hello? Are you home, dear?”
Smiling, Nicki shook her head and pushed her chair slightly back from the desk so she could swivel around to face the open doorway. “I’m in my office, Maxie.”
The click of high heels sounded on the wood floor before Nicki’s landlady stepped around the portal and into the room. It was certainly no surprise to Nicki that the always perfectly groomed and dressed Maxie Edwards looked as if she’d stepped right out of a high-end beauty salon, and her flawless complexion allowed her to shave a good ten years off her almost-seventy age whenever the need arose.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you so early, dear, but I simply couldn’t wait another moment.” Maxie sent Nicki a warm smile that reached all the way to her clear blue eyes.
“It’s almost noon, Maxie, so it isn’t that early, and I’m always glad to see you at any hour.” Nicki returned the smile. Only Maxie would think anything before noon was early in the morning.
Nicki adored her landlady who was also president of the Ladies in Writing Society. Maxie had formed the group after she’d finally abandoned her globetrotting career as a professional genealogist to settle down with a police chief in a small town far away from the bright lights and nightlife of the big cities. But then, Nicki reflected, it’s the very same thing she’d done herself, although Maxie had been pursuing love and Nicki had been fleeing from bad memories.
When she shook her head, not one strand of her platinum-blond hair moved. “That’s such a nice thing to say. But it’s barely a respectable hour for a brunch and not at all the proper thing to simply drop in on someone.” Her gaze shifted to the large white board that took up most of the space on one of the office walls. “I’m surprised you don’t have the board half full by now.”
There was no mistaking the eager note in Maxie’s voice as she continued to stare at what she’d named “the murder board”. The women had hung it up during the last murder they’d come across at one of the local wineries. Nicki had thought about taking it down since she wouldn’t be getting involved in any more murders. But somehow, she’d never gotten around to it. And now there it was, still hanging on her wall, staring her in the face. She wasn’t surprised even a little when Maxie walked over, picked up one of the markers and wrote across the top, “Catherine Dunton Murder”.
“Ah. I guess you heard about the end of my dinner date last night?”
Maxie turned around, the marker still raised in one hand, and smiled at her tenant. “Of course, dear. Chief Turnlow called myMason about nine, I believe. I’m not even certain the sun was up when the phone rang.”
“I’m pretty sure it was, Maxie,” Nicki grinned but couldn’t stop herself from getting to her feet and walking over to the board.
Her landlady’s smile got bigger, and she turned back to face the murder board. “Now then. What do we know?”
Nicki looked at the blank space and then back at Maxie. “We know that Chief Turnlow has sternly warned me against becoming involved in this murder investigation.”
“That’s ridiculous of course, dear.” Maxie dismissed the chief’s warning with a wave of her hand. “You found the body, so you were involved before he even arrived on the scene. And he called myMason first thing this morning. He knew myMason would tell me and I’d immediately drop by to consult with you. Catherine was one of our society members so we have an obligation and a duty to find her killer. I’m sure the chief understands that, and his warning was just a formality.”
“Uh huh.” Nicki didn’t think Chief Turnlow understood that at all, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to jot down a few things. It might go a long way to helping clear her mind. Or even remember some little detail she’d forgotten to tell the chief.
Having hit upon a good reason to put everything she’d seen down on the board, Nicki stepped back and planted her rear end on the edge of her desk. She studied the board while Maxie waited, her marker poised and an expectant look on her face.
“Well, we found her with her face in the middle of her dinner plate.”
“What was she eating?” Maxie asked. “It might be a clue.” When Nicki rolled her eyes, Maxie pointed the marker at her. “In our last case, the victim was poisoned.”
Giving in, Nicki smiled. “A pasta dish, with langoustine. Some of it was on the tablecloth.”
“Very nice choice,” Maxie said as she started writing.
“She had a large knife in her back, but since she didn’t have a knife block in her kitchen, I don’t know if the killer brought it in with him or found it in one of the drawers.” Nicki took a breath and then went on while Maxie madly printed the facts onto the board.
When Nicki had finished relating everything she could remember, she glanced over at Maxie. The older woman hadn’t moved away from the board, but stood with her back to Nicki, who caught the small shudder of Maxie’s shoulders. Pushing away from the desk, Nicki crossed the short distance between them and put her arms around Maxie’s shoulders.
Tears were sliding down the normally unflappable woman’s cheeks as Nicki gently took the marker out of her hand and steered her toward the desk chair. Once Maxie was sitting down, Nicki reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a small box of tissues, holding it out as Maxie quickly grabbed several of them and dabbed her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about what happened. I know how much you value your friends and how hard this must be.” Nicki grimaced as a bolt of guilt stabbed through her. She should have realized how hard the news of Catherine’s death would hit Maxie. It certainly had left her badly shaken once she’d arrived home and had had time to really think about it.
“Catherine was more of a close acquaintance than a friend I’d go out and have a drink with for no reason other than to catch up with each other.” Maxie’s voice broke as she balled a tissue up in her hand. “But underneath all that constant pushing for new clients for her financial planning business, she had a very kind heart.” Maxie looked up at Nicki with a watery smile. “Although I’m sure you saw more of the pushiness than the kindness.”
Nicki set the tissue box on the desk. “She pushed a little, but not so much to send me running in another direction whenever I saw her. And she always had a nice word to say about my articles and my novels. You know how much it means to writers to hear that someone has actually read what we’ve written.”
Maxie nodded. “That sounds like Catherine. And she wouldn’t have been telling a little white lie, either. If she said she’d read your novel, then she took the time to do that. She probably even left a glowing review or two. And whenever there was an event or work to be done for the Society, her hand was always the first one raised, and you could count on her to follow through on whatever task she took on.”
With a heavy sigh, Maxie glanced over at the board. “With her divorce final and renting that cute little house right off the square, she was finally getting a handhold on some happiness. And then someone literally put a knife into her back.” The older woman looked up at Nicki, her eyes still wet but lit with determination.
Nicki had a feeling what was coming next.
“We owe it to her to find out what happened and bring the culprit to justice!” Maxie rose to her feet and wrapped her well-manicured fingers around Nicki’s upper arm. “We didn’t stand by when that detestable winemaker was murdered, and we certainly won’t when the victim is one of our own.”
Feeling both trapped and slightly elated, Nicki nodded. She couldn’t possibly say “no” to Maxie. After everything her generous landlady had done for her, there simply wasn’t any choice. But right now it would be best if Maxie took a break from the murder board.
Since Nicki had had so much trouble sleeping the night before, her day had started a good six hours ago and only with a cup of coffee. Realizing she was famished, Nicki knew it was an excellent excuse to get Maxie out of her office and into the kitchen where there were no murder boards to stare at.
“Why don’t we take a break
and prepare some lunch?” Nicki turned her head and glanced out the window toward the front lawn and side-by-side driveways. Her on-its-last-legs, robin-egg-blue Toyota sat on one side, and normally Jenna’s equally worn out Honda sat on the other since she rented the townhouse next to Nicki’s. Maxie had given them both a phenomenal deal to live on her large property in the section everyone in the area called her “writer’s colony”.
The little enclave with six townhouses, in sets of two, scattered around a wide circular road had been a huge boon to Nicki, and to her very tight budget, as she got her freelance writing and budding novelist careers off the ground. Nicki’s budget was still tight enough it didn’t lend itself to taking on a new car, and the monthly payment that went with it, since she still had bills to pay from her move from New York to California, and for her mother’s funeral expenses. Not to mention the student loans she’d taken out to attend college and then culinary school.
Julie Connors’ estate hadn’t extended beyond a small bank account and her personal possessions in her apartment, none of which would have covered the cost of a funeral. Nicki would have asked her father for help, but she had no idea where he was or how to get hold of him. He’d completely disappeared from her life when she was five years old.
“It’s a bit early for lunch, but a brunch would be perfect,” Maxie said, bringing Nicki’s attention back to the present. “Does your pantry extend to mimosas? I would like a drink, and I’ve been wanting one of your mimosas ever since yesterday when we suffered through Suzanne’s concoction.”
Nicki bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Poor Suzanne wanted to be a gourmet cook so badly, but had blinders on when it came to ingredients. If a recipe called for tomatoes, Suzanne saw no difference between using fresh ones or something that came out of a can. She had the same approach to herbs and spices.
“You’re in luck. I just picked up some fresh oranges that are in the refrigerator cooling nicely, and I’m sure we have a Cava in our wine fridge,” Nicki said, referring to the sparkling wine from Spain.
