A Food and Wine Club Mystery Boxset Books 1 through 5

by Cat Chandler

  Chief Turnlow sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “I’m sorry, Maxie. Force of habit.”

  “You do that whenever you’re interviewing a witness or a suspect, Chief,” Nicki pointed out.

  Her landlady nodded. “That’s right.” Maxie directed an icy stare at the big man sitting calmly behind the small desk. “And which one would I be, Chief? A witness or a suspect?”

  “Neither.” He shrugged. “I’ve been trying to get hold of Chief Edwards, and he hasn’t returned my calls. So I thought I’d ask you where he is?”

  “Chief Edwards,” Maxie said slowly. “Not Mason, but Chief Edwards? What do you consider my husband? A witness or a suspect?”

  Nicki reached over and laid a gentle hand on Maxie’s arm. “I’m sure he isn’t either one, Maxie. But it seems to be common knowledge that Eddie owed your husband money.” When Maxie stared at her, Nicki gave the older woman an encouraging smile. “Roberta mentioned it when we were in the diner.” She returned her gaze to the chief. “I’m sure it’s just something Chief Turnlow needs to verify.”

  “Nicki’s right. I need to consider everything at this point.” The chief smiled. “Where is Mason?”

  “Fishing. He left early this morning.”

  The chief pursed his lips but kept his voice low and gentle. “Fishing? A trip he’d been planning for a while?”

  “No. But he goes fishing all the time, and very often at the drop of a hat,” Maxie insisted. “Or in this case, at the call of Charlie Freeman. That’s all it took for him to be off to Charlie’s boat.”

  Charlie Freeman was a local winemaker, mostly known for making the worst wine in the valley. He and Mason had been close friends for over thirty years, long before the quiet, serious Mason had married the outgoing genealogist from the city.

  “So he’s somewhere out on the ocean?” The chief frowned.

  “Unless you know how to catch fish in a vineyard,” Maxie returned. “And before you ask, he had a quick dinner with Charlie to plan out the last-minute details for their trip, and then he came right home. He was with me from eight o’clock until he left early this morning.”

  “Did he come straight home?”

  Maxie drew in a deep breath and narrowed her gaze on the chief. “I don’t know, but then I didn’t ask, either. I don’t make a habit of tracking my Mason’s every move.”

  “What’s this about, Chief?” Nicki asked. “You don’t seriously consider Mason Edwards a suspect in Eddie’s murder, do you?”

  “Do I? No.” The chief shook his head. “But there is information that needs to be explained and eliminated as part of the case.”

  “What information?” Maxie demanded.

  “Now that will have to wait until Mason gets back and I can ask him. And when will that be, Maxie?”

  “It’s supposed to be a short trip, Chief. I’m expecting my husband back in two days or so.” Maxie rose and inclined her head, waiting with a stony expression as the chief stood as well. “I’ll let him know to stop by.”

  “Thank you.” The chief glanced at Nicki. “And I’m assuming I’ll be seeing you later this afternoon?”

  “Count on it,” Nicki said before she followed a very annoyed Maxie out the door.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Nicki walked up the rickety iron stairs, determination in the set of her jaw. Not only was Jenna upset, although Nicki had been glad to see that working on the murder board had certainly helped her friend’s mood, but now Maxie was too. Her landlady was sure that her husband would be coming home only to be arrested on their doorstep. Nicki had done her best to first reason, and then sympathize, with Maxie’s vocal concerns, but in the end, she’d been forced to turn her usually unflappable landlady over to Suzanne.

  Nicki’s opinion of the woman who’d been determined up until Catherine’s murder, to mimic everything Nicki did, right down to her wardrobe, had undergone a drastic change in the last few hours. Suzanne’s calm assessment of Jenna’s shock, and the way she’d handled Maxie’s fears, had been both jaw-dropping and very welcome, since Nicki certainly had her hands full with Jenna and a murder.

  She hadn’t heard back from Alex yet, had sent two calls from Matt to voice mail, and made an emergency run to Maxie’s house for her landlady’s special blend of tea. Nicki had badly needed help, and was grateful to Suzanne for stepping in so seamlessly and providing it. She made a mental promise to put more time into Suzanne’s project of gourmet cooking classes.

  Once the upset and confusion running rampant in her townhouse seemed at least somewhat under control, Nicki had been faced with the daunting task of keeping up with the murder investigation as best she could, without any of her usual help from her friends. The ignored calls from Matt popped into her mind. She really wished he was here now, but couldn’t ask him to leave his business and fly out to the West Coast every time she came across a dead body. Which seemed to be often lately.

  So she was climbing to the second floor of the worn-out apartment complex all by herself. Eddie Parker’s place was just on the edge of town, and two blocks away from the diner. Nicki paused on the upper landing and looked around at the peeling and faded paint of the building he’d called home. It was a large rectangle, two stories tall, surrounded by an unpaved parking lot, and sitting in the middle of an overgrown field. Not seeing any kind of visual appeal to the place, Nicki turned to her left and walked the length of the building. Chief Turnlow was standing across from an open apartment door, leaning against the outside railing.

  “Hi, Chief,” Nicki said when she got close enough she didn’t have to shout to be heard over the traffic whizzing by on the main highway that passed close to town. “I take it the landlord made the drive from San Francisco okay.”

  The chief straightened to his full height and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. “He was early. He dropped the key off at the station along with a request that I let him know as soon as possible when it would be available for him to rent out again.”

  “Lovely,” Nicki murmured under her breath before managing a meager smile. “If you aren’t waiting for the landlord to show up, why are you standing out here?”

  Chief Turnlow shrugged his broad shoulders. “Waiting for you. It was a sure bet that you’d be here, and I appreciate you being on time.”

  Nicki had the grace to blush but stood her ground. Just then her phone rang. She glanced at the screen before sighing and sending it to voice mail. At the chief’s questioning glance, she turned her screen around so he could read the caller ID.

  The big man made a face. “You aren’t talking to your wannabe boyfriend?” He gave her a stern look. “Every time you decide not to talk to him, I get a complaint call.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Chief. He’s my editor.” Nicki had told that to the chief, and to her friends, at least a dozen times, but none of them seemed inclined to believe her. “I have a boyfriend, Rob. Remember him? You met him the night we found Catherine dead in her dining room.”

  “Oh yeah. Him. The one who left you stranded on the porch.” The chief produced a key from his pocket and turned toward the front door of the apartment.

  Nicki blew out an exasperated breath. The police chief knew good and well that she’d told Rob to go on home that night, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with the man, especially since he had that “stern father” look on his face. At the moment she was far more curious to see the inside of Eddie’s apartment. Chief Turnlow swung the door open and stepped over the threshold, stopping just inside the entrance.

  “Great.”

  Even more curious than before, Nicki came around him, only to be brought up short by his long arm swinging out and blocking her from going any further. Her eyes opened wide as she slowly took in the room. The bookshelves on the far side of the small living area were bare. Their contents had been tossed across the floor, coffee table and sofa. Several pieces of what used to be a vase were shattered, and the entire contents of an ashtray had been dumped
on the couch. It looked as if a small bomb had gone off in the room and thrown everything into the air, only to splatter out from wherever it had landed.

  “Oh my,” Nicki breathed. “Someone was pretty angry.”

  “Or looking for something,” the chief said. “Stay to the edges and try not to step on anything. I want to see if the kitchen and bedroom are in the same shape.”

  Nicki followed the chief, tiptoeing close to the wall as she gingerly picked her way along toward the kitchen. It too had been ransacked, although not as badly as the living room. The chief gave it a quick look before heading to the bedroom. This was the worst of the three rooms. Dresser drawers had been upended and dumped on the floor, along with the contents of the closet. Large scrap books were scattered across the bed. A few of them had been left open, revealing rows of what looked like stamps, rather than photos.

  “Wonder if he found what he was looking for?” The chief frowned as he studied the mess. He crossed his arms over his large chest and did another slow scan around the room.

  Nicki did too. If there was anything missing, she had no idea how they would figure out what it was. She stared at the albums scattered across the bed and wondered if all of them were filled with stamps.

  “Notice anything unusual about this place?” the chief asked, his eyes still moving over the room.

  She tore her gaze away from the albums and glanced over at the far wall. “Besides the fact it’s barely big enough for a bed and a nightstand? And that closet is so small it almost doesn’t qualify as one?” At the chief’s frown, she shrugged. “It’s not nearly as neat as the trash job on his office at the diner.”

  “My thought, too.” Chief Turnlow lowered his brow and stuck his hands back into his jacket pockets. “Could mean he searched this place last and got frustrated when he still didn’t find what he was looking for.”

  She nodded her agreement. “That certainly makes sense.” Nicki looked around again. “Or maybe he knew whatever it was, wasn’t in the diner, and that was just for show to throw us off.”

  “Us?”

  Nicki cast a sideways glance at the chief. At least he wasn’t frowning.

  “This whole thing is wonky.”

  She smiled. “Wonky?”

  The chief nodded, his eyes narrowed as he did another slow sweep of the room. “Why Eddie? And why the trash job?” At Nicki’s puzzled frown, the chief shrugged. “The cash registers weren’t opened and the safe didn’t look as if it had been touched, and we found his wallet in his back pocket with cash still in it. So it wasn’t a robbery. But it sure looks like the perp was searching for something.” He shook his head. “Or maybe, like you said, the trash job was just a smoke screen.”

  “But a smoke screen for what?” Nicki voiced out loud, sure the chief was asking himself exactly the same question. “If it wasn’t robbery, what does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” The chief ran a hand across the top of his head. “Could be any number of things. Eddie might have interrupted something, or the perp simply picked the wrong place. Could have been a personal argument gone bad.”

  “Did Eddie happen to have a cell phone?” Nicki asked. She glanced over at the top of the three-drawer dresser standing in the corner with all of its drawers hanging open.

  “Haven’t found one.”

  “Even Eddie wasn’t quite this big a pig.”

  Nicki and the chief turned in tandem toward the bedroom door at their backs. Roberta Horton stood there, her hands on her hips and what seemed like a perpetual sneer on her face.

  “First time I’ve had a vacation day in years, and I get to spend it wading through a mess.” She pursed her lips, the frizzy hair sprouting out from a ponytail dancing around as she shook her head. “How am I supposed to know if anything is missing when it’s all on the floor? This is a total waste of my time.” She turned around and started to walk away.

  “Hang on, Ms. Horton.”

  The chief’s quiet command had Roberta stopping in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder. “Why? I don’t have any idea what’s missing in this mess. And that’s the reason I’m here, isn’t it?”

  “Since you walked through my crime scene, then you can answer a few questions.”

  Roberta turned around and stuck her chin out. “I don’t have to answer anything. I watch all the TV shows. I have rights.”

  “Yes, you do.” The chief’s tone was even, and he kept a polite smile on his face. “You can voluntarily answer a few questions here, or you can come down to the station right now and we’ll wait for your attorney to show up before you answer them there.” His smile got a little wider. “It’s entirely your choice, Ms. Horton.”

  The short stocky woman glared at the police chief for a brief moment before averting her eyes. “What questions?”

  “Did Eddie have a cell phone?”

  Roberta shifted from one foot to the other but nodded. “Yeah. Nothing fancy, but he had one.”

  “Did he usually carry it with him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of having one if you don’t carry it with you?”

  “Do you have a cell phone, Ms. Horton?”

  Nicki wasn’t surprised at the sudden wariness that leapt into Roberta’s eyes, or the slow nod of her head.

  “Mind if I take a look at it?”

  “Why?” Roberta snapped out then clamped her mouth shut.

  Chief Turnlow lifted one eyebrow as he kept his stare on her face. “Any reason why I can’t?”

  “Because you’d need a warrant or something to do that.” Roberta’s gaze dropped to the chief’s empty hands. “Have you got one of those on you?”

  Sure that the chief would most likely be getting one soon, Nicki decided it might be a good time to distract the woman and give her something else to think about besides tampering with whatever might be on her phone.

  “Can you tell me what Eddie was like?” She tried for a friendly chatty tone, hoping it would defuse the confrontational tactic the chief was using.

  “What do you mean?” Roberta snapped out, switching her angry gaze to Nicki.

  “You mentioned that even he wasn’t this messy. Was he not a very neat person?” Nicki smiled. “And there aren’t many photographs around. I guess he wasn’t much for family pictures?”

  Roberta’s shoulders relaxed, though her mouth was still thinned out into a straight line. “He wasn’t particular about keeping everything in his place sparkly clean. He always said he had enough of that at the diner. But he kept it picked up.”

  “And why no family photos?” Nicki asked.

  “You can’t have photos of something you don’t have. He had a nephew back East somewhere. That was about it. Left everything to him, is what he told me. That nephew he’d hardly ever seen, and to those stamp people.”

  Nicki caught the chief’s sideways glance as she looked over at the bed. “Stamp people? Was Eddie a stamp collector?”

  “Why do I have to answer questions from her?” Roberta demanded, her glare back on the chief. “She’s just some kind of writer, or a cook, or something like that. She’s not a policeman.”

  “Ms. Connors is consulting on this case.” Despite Nicki’s double take, the chief didn’t bat an eyelash at that statement. “Again, it’s your choice. Here or at the station.”

  Roberta let out a loud snort, but slowly walked forward until she was standing next to the bed, looking down at the large albums. “He loved those stamps more than anything.” Her shoulders scrunched over, and Nicki could see the tiny tremble run down her back.

  “You’d think those stamps were made out of gold or something the way he pampered them. Spent his money on special holders and other shit like that.” She swiveled around, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “He was a cheap bastard. He didn’t spend money on anything but those stamps. And they weren’t worth much more than what you’d buy at the post office. Except for maybe that one he told me about, all they did was take up space.”

  �
�What one?” Nicki prompted.

  The woman shrugged and backed away from the bed. “Some stamp he got at the post office that turned out to be worth a lot of money.” She looked at Nicki with eyes that had cleared and the sneer back on her face. “I don’t know. I never saw it. He told me it had some kind of airplane on it. Whenever he started talking about his friggin’ stamps, I just tuned him out. He’d go on for hours about the stupid things.”

  She looked over at the chief who was calmly watching her. “Maybe that’s what this is all about. That dumb stamp of his. You should be grilling those two friends of his that collect stamps instead of me.” She gave a quick, sharp nod of her head. “It’s the only thing Eddie owned that was worth anything. He’d sold his house and his car and took up to living in this dump.”

  Roberta held out one arm and swept it in a wide arc before pointing a finger at the bed. “Yeah. It’s probably about that stamp. Go talk to his friends and leave me alone.” Without another word she stomped out of the room. Nicki could hear her footsteps all the way across the living room and then the hard slam of the front door.

  The chief sighed and shook his head. “I don’t suppose you know anything about stamps?”

  “Not a thing, Chief.” Nicki stared at the albums scattered on the bed. Two of them were on the floor, lying open, face down.

  Chief Turnlow followed her line of vision. “Stamps. Huh.” He glanced over at Nicki. “Come on. I’ll walk you out to your car before I tape this place off and call in the forensics team from Santa Rosa. Again. I don’t think their chief will be too happy about having to send his guys out this way for a second time, especially since they just got finished in the diner.”

  Nicki followed the chief out the front door, being careful where she put her feet. It only took a couple of minutes before they were both standing next to Nicki’s car. She opened the door before looking back over her shoulder.

  “Are you going to get that warrant for Roberta’s cell phone?”