A Food and Wine Club Mystery Boxset Books 1 through 5

by Cat Chandler

  “I gather you’re looking for something?” Cynthia Dunton stood in the doorway, her legs braced apart and a very nasty-looking gun in her hand.

  “I, I…” Nicki couldn’t take her eyes off the gun. Straightening away from the wall, she automatically put her hands up.

  “This isn’t a hold-up, Nicki.”

  Cynthia actually sounded amused, which had Nicki’s knees locking into place and her eyes narrowing. She didn’t see one funny thing about pointing a gun at someone. Especially when it was pointed at her!

  “Well?” Catherine’s killer prompted. “What are you looking for?”

  “Green pants. The ones you were wearing when you took Catherine’s place as the hostess at Antonio’s.”

  Cynthia sighed and shook her head. “I should have thought of that. That you would notice the difference between what Catherine and I were wearing that night. I did my best to match her clothing, but she only had that one pair of black pants. But I thought a blue blouse and dark colored pants would work. It seems I underestimated your powers of observation. But then you weren’t supposed to discover my dearly departed sister. Her boyfriend Charlie was, and since he never saw me at the restaurant, my slight difference in clothing shouldn’t have made any difference.”

  “How did you know I was here?” Nicki was desperate to buy some time, hoping Matt would hear them talking and realize what was going on, or maybe Beatrice had seen Cynthia come into the house and had already called for help.

  “Suzanne called me.” Cynthia gave a little wave of the gun. “She was very offended that you didn’t believe she was capable of making those muffins. Why didn’t you believe her, by the way?”

  “You used my recipe.”

  Catherine’s twin smiled. “A small conceit on my part. I just wanted to see if I could make a muffin people would rave about as much as they did for the ones made by the resident gourmet chef.” She inclined her head toward Nicki. “And I did. But I only sent six of them to Suzanne. With you scheduled to put on all those cooking demonstrations, I didn’t think there was any chance that you’d end up with one of them. A miscalculation on my part, I’m afraid.”

  “You made quite a few of them, Cynthia.” When the older woman’s gaze hardened, Nicki took a deep breath and did her best to act unconcerned about being held at gunpoint. She just needed to keep Cynthia’s attention away from the man slowly moving up behind her. And of course come up with a plan on how not to get shot.

  “You didn’t know where to seat people at the restaurant. Mario noticed it, the wait staff noticed it, and so did I, and it got us all to wondering about you. And you spread lies to try to throw everyone off, like telling Mario you were going to meet someone at the house because you must have known that Catherine had a date planned with Charlie later that night. What you didn’t know was that he never showed up, so the body was discovered before you had a chance to plant that bloody glove in his house, forcing you to leave it in his greenhouse and hope someone would find it there. And there was never anything wrong with your hair. You had it changed to match Catherine’s and wore that scarf to hide it until after you’d killed her, then you chopped it off and dyed it black. You told me that your sister made fun of your hair, but Ramona told me that her mother never saw it, because you didn’t change it until the day after the murder. Your niece saw you with that scarf on your head the morning her mother was killed, and the next day you showed up with black hair, so Catherine couldn’t possibly have seen it. But it was using my recipe that really gave you away.”

  Nicki slowly lowered her hands, keeping her gaze locked with Cynthia’s. “I gave that recipe to the hostess at Antonio’s. The person who said she was Catherine Dunton. The only way for you to get that recipe is if you were impersonating your sister, so we’d all think she was still alive, at least until you thought Charlie was supposed to show up.”

  “She turned me down,” Cynthia sneered. “It was my money too, and she turned me down. The auction house called. They had a rare book, in perfect condition and signed by the author, but the owner wouldn’t let it go for less than ten thousand dollars. It would have been the crown jewel of my collection. But my sister refused to give me the money from the trust. ‘It’s too much,’ she said. And how she was tired of her daughter and me always asking for money. How dare she put me in the same category as that brat of hers? I worked all my life and didn’t pretend to go to school for years and years just so I could live off someone else’s money.” The gun waved back and forth as Cynthia’s eyes glittered with rage. “It wasn’t just Catherine’s father who set up that trust for us. He was my father too, and half that money was mine. I shouldn’t have had to beg for it.”

  Just then a loud crash came from somewhere downstairs. Cynthia’s head whipped around at the same time the chief shouted, “Get down Nicki!”

  Nicki dove for the ground, rolling until she was between the bed and the wall. With her head glued to the floor, all she could see was a shuffling of feet before she squeezed her eyes closed. If someone was going to shoot her, she didn’t want to see it.

  She yelped and flailed her arms when she was lifted up by the waist.

  “Stop, Nicki! It’s me.”

  Dropping her arms, Nicki looked up into the deep brown of Matt’s eyes. Without a word she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Matt’s arms closed around her as her knees began to buckle.

  “Okay, I’ve got you.” His arms tightened a bit more. “Let’s get you out of here. Everyone’s waiting for you outside.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  It was early evening as, by an unspoken agreement, everyone gathered in Nicki’s kitchen. Jenna had made a stop at Mel’s Burgers on the way, having declared that none of the amateur detectives were doing any cooking, which was fine with Nicki.

  As the crowd around her kitchen island grabbed the burger of their choice and dug into a mountain of fries, she stood contentedly next to Matt, laughing as the very health-conscious Dr. Alex took a big bite of a greasy cheeseburger, and Maxie picked up a French fry with a napkin before popping it into her mouth. Nicki lifted her glass of sparkling water just as Matt pushed a huge pile of fries in front of her while at the same time holding a double-decker burger under her nose. Nicki wouldn’t have been able to get her mouth around the thing, much less eat all of it. She rolled her eyes and pushed his hand away.

  “I can’t eat that.” She squinted up at him. “Why are you always determined to shove food into me?”

  “Why can’t you make a meal of something more than a glass of sparkling water?” Matt asked her in return. “You have to eat something.”

  “Matt.” Nicki thought he was probably still reacting to what had happened in Catherine’s house, but he really needed to find another way to deal with his anxieties. “I spent the entire afternoon doing cooking demonstrations. Good chefs will always taste what they make. If I eat any more, I’ll burst.”

  Matt glanced over at Ty. “That whole charity thing happened on your watch. Did she eat or not?”

  “Like a horse,” Ty responded, winking at Nicki when she glared at him.

  “Just once I’d like to see that,” Matt mumbled.

  “Just once I’d like your girlfriend to stay out of trouble.” Chief Turnlow nodded a greeting all around as he removed his hat and stepped into the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.”

  “Grab a burger and tell us what’s going on.” Jenna bumped against Alex to make room for the chief at the island.

  Deciding there was no use in even trying to set the chief straight anymore, Nicki ignored his girlfriend comment. She noticed that Matt did too. Telling herself it was no big deal, she smiled at the chief of police as he grabbed a burger. She wasn’t going to dwell on the whole Matt-boyfriend thing since she was much more interested in what the chief had to say about Cynthia’s arrest.

  “Did you throw Cynthia into solitary confinement after she confessed?” Maxie demanded. “It’s the leas
t you could have done after she held a gun on our Nicki.”

  Matt groaned. “Let’s not talk about that part. I’m going to have nightmares for a year.”

  “Now who’s being dramatic?” Nicki laughed, but she kept her gaze on the chief. “Did Cynthia confess?”

  “She’s on her way over to the Santa Rosa jail, and no, she didn’t confess. She demanded a lawyer and clammed up.” The chief shrugged. “I expected that. But it isn’t going to help. I had heard enough while I was trying to get behind her in the house, and Danny called on my way back here from Santa Rosa. When my deputy searched her house, he found not only the recipe card you described in detail, and a pair of dark green pants hanging with a blue blouse, but he also found a Zelite knife set in the back of her bedroom closet. It was missing the chef’s knife.”

  “My heavens, I guess Ramona was right when she said that her aunt never threw anything away.” Maxie reached over and put her hand on her husband’s arm. Mason gave it a reassuring pat.

  “Is your deputy on his way to the forensics lab with that evidence?” the former police chief asked.

  Chief Turnlow nodded. He took a bite of his burger and squirted ketchup on the fries Jenna had repositioned in front of him

  “So why are you here instead of grilling the murderer?” Jenna asked, giving the chief a slight shove in the side with her elbow. The big man didn’t budge an inch as he ate another fry before using one of the paper towels scattered about the counter to wipe his fingers.

  “Thanks. It’s been a long day, and I was hungry.” He nodded at Nicki. “I’m here to give the official thank you and reprimand.”

  “Reprimand?” Maxie’s indignant tone rang through the kitchen. “She kept an innocent man from being prosecuted by discovering the real killer. You should be giving her a medal, not a reprimand.”

  “Now, Maxie. Let the chief talk.” Mason put an arm around his wife’s shoulders and shook his head at her when she opened her mouth again.

  Huffing out a sharp breath, Maxie shook her head right back at him. “I’m going to listen.” She sent a glance over to Chief Turnlow. “And then I’m going to complain.”

  The chief laughed. “Fair enough.” He leaned his hands on the counter. “Miss Connors. The City Council of Arson and the members of the police department would like to officially thank you for finding justice for one of our citizens.

  Nicki grinned. “Chief Turnlow, the City Council of Arson, and especially the members of the police department, are very welcome.” She made a wide gesture to include everyone around the kitchen island. “But it wasn’t just me. Everyone here helped.”

  “But you’re the one who figured it out,” Jenna declared. “And aside from the muffin, I haven’t heard how.” She raised one eyebrow at her friend. “Or was Cynthia Dunton’s dastardly plan completely done in by a cranberry-orange muffin with raw sugar on the top?” She chuckled when Nicki blinked. “We’ve been hanging out for years. I know that turbinado is raw sugar.”

  “What else gave Cynthia away?” Like the chief, Maxie also leaned forward, clearly eager to hear the answer.

  “Remember that night?” Nicki asked, addressing the chief. “When we were in the dining room and I said something wasn’t right but I didn’t know what?”

  The chief nodded. “I told you to let me know when you figured it out.”

  “It was the clothes. It didn’t really register with me at the time, but Catherine’s blouse wasn’t quite the same shade of blue that I’d seen her wearing at the restaurant, and her pants weren’t dark green. When Alex told me that the pair she’d seen in the forensics lab was black, I knew it was wrong, but got interrupted by Beatrice Riley before I had a chance to really think it through.”

  She paused while her fingers began to drum against the countertop. “And it was strange the way she was making sure everyone knew about her hair mishap. She even mentioned it to Beatrice. Most women wouldn’t have shown up in public at all until they’d had a chance to fix whatever was wrong, or at least they wouldn’t have kept calling attention to it. And Suzanne didn’t know about it either. Don’t you think that’s something her best friend would have told her? It’s the kind of thing best friends talk about. But the muffins were her real downfall. I knew the minute I tasted one that it wasn’t the recipe of an amateur baker, and when Suzanne confirmed that Cynthia had made them, I realized that it really was my recipe, the one I’d given Catherine that night at the restaurant. The only explanation was that Cynthia had been masquerading as her twin.”

  “Which is why she was acting so wonky that night,” Jenna said. “She’d never been a hostess at Mario’s, so she had no idea how to seat the customers or who the regulars were.”

  “That’s right,” Nicki agreed. “And had no idea that Catherine had promised me a table window that afternoon at the Society meeting. And when I talked to Ramona, she confirmed that her mother never said she disliked her sister’s hair because Catherine never saw it. Ramona said Cynthia didn’t show up with that black, shaggy cut until after Catherine died. Which meant there probably was no hair disaster at all. She had simply made it up so no one would question why she was wearing a scarf over her head.”

  “To hide the fact she’d had her hair dyed and cut to match her sister’s.” Alex nodded. “She went to a lot of trouble for ten thousand dollars.”

  “People have killed for less,” the chief commented. “But I got real curious about what book she thought was worth killing her sister for, so I made a call to that auction house you mentioned, Nicki.”

  Nicki’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. “You did?”

  Chief Turnlow nodded, a smile tugging on his mouth. “Yep. They confirmed that they’d contacted Cynthia Dunton about a private sale of a book through one of their clients, and Cynthia agreed to the purchase price of ten thousand dollars.”

  “What book did she want that badly?” Matt asked. “Did the auction house tell you?”

  “Yes they did.” Now the smile grew until it covered the entire lower half of the chief’s face. “It was a mint condition, first edition signed by the author.” He curled his lips inward as his belly began to shake with silent laughter. “It was signed by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and was The Hound of the Baskervilles.”

  Matt stared at him for a moment, then burst out into laughter. So did everyone else as Nicki put her hands on her hips.

  “Oh sure. Now you know the name of a Sherlock Holmes book.”

  Once the laughter had died down, the chief’s facial expression fell into more sober lines.

  “Now young lady, it’s about that reprimand for interfering in police business.”

  Nicki smiled, nodded and tuned him out. All her friends were here, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads at the chief’s lecture on the proper behavior for a civilian.

  And next to her was Matt. Her editor, her boss, and lately her sidekick. And maybe, just maybe, something more.

  Nicki’s smile grew wider. Good friends who were really family, and a future relationship with possibilities beyond a great friendship. Life didn’t get any better than that.

  A Burger, Fries, And Murder

  A Food and Wine Club Mystery Book 3

  By

  CAT CHANDLER

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  “Who meets at eight in the morning,” Jenna grumbled to herself. “The ever-cheerful breakfast fairies?”

  The computer geek and website designer pushed her over-sized, black-framed glasses higher up on her nose. Grabbing her laptop and several file folders from the passenger seat, she balanced them in her arms while she unfolded her legs and scooted out of the car, shoving the door closed with one hip. She was dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, which was her usual morning attire. Her long tight mix of kinky dark curls was doubled over and pulled into a rubber band on the top of her head. The loose ends hung to her ears. An unruly strand had escaped its bond, and she impatiently blew it out of her eyes. She sighed when it simply flopped back do
wn, blocking a good piece of her vision.

  Jenna knew she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, which was close to the truth. But Eddie Parker would have to take her “as is”, if he was going to demand a meeting at this ridiculous hour of the morning. Everyone knew that programmers stayed up late at night, so you’d think the man would have been polite enough to agree to something around elevenish. At least that wasn’t the crack of dawn.

  Good thing for him that I can’t afford to turn away any clients. Not at the moment, anyway. But with her little business starting to take off, especially with the huge client she’d picked up earlier in the year, that might change in the very near future. And then Mr. this-is-the-only-time-I-can-spare-Parker would have to adjust his schedule to match hers. Which would be strictly afternoon and early evening appointments only. Jenna gave a silent decisive nod. She’d tried to talk Eddie into meeting her last night, but he’d claimed he already had another business meeting, so she’d had to settle for this morning before the rest of the staff arrived for work.

  But three hours before the diner opened? How much prep time did it take to produce burgers, fries, and a couple of other specialty fast-food items? Jenna glanced around the completely empty parking lot. Since Eddie lived in the apartment complex only two blocks away, he didn’t need to drive to work. Jenna assumed he was most likely waiting for her inside. Which meant early morning hour or not, she needed to get a move on.

  She juggled the laptop and file folders until she had a firmer grip on them as she walked under the faded striped awning shading the walkway in front of the diner. She’d brought the folders to show Eddie his payment history, which was dismal, and ask if he’d please settle his entire outstanding balance, which was unlikely. But at least she might be able to pry a good chunk of it from him. She hoped so. She had bills to pay.