A Food and Wine Club Mystery Boxset Books 1 through 5

by Cat Chandler

  “I can do toast.” Not sounding the least offended, Matt went to the refrigerator and retrieved a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.

  “Two eggs, one piece of toast.”

  Matt stopped midway to the counter. “To start.”

  “And finish.” Nicki decided she’d have to point out the obvious to the well-meaning-but-sometimes-blind Matt. “I can’t eat the way you do. You’re what, six feet tall and male?”

  He chuckled and set the food next to the stove. “Last time I checked.”

  “Well, I’m a five-foot-two-inch female.” She threw her arms out to the side. “It doesn’t take as much fuel to keep me going as it does you.”

  Matt leaned against the counter and considered it for a moment. “I suppose that’s true. But it takes more than it would to keep a bird alive.”

  “Well, when you show me a bird that’s downed two eggs and a piece of toast, I’ll consider eating more. But until then…” She trailed off and gave the food a significant look. “That’s all I want, nurse Dillon.”

  “Okay. You win. But I get to win the next argument.” He picked up the carton of eggs, took a skillet down from the overhead pot rack, and walked over to the stove. “And I prefer to be called Dr. Watson. That’s a lot more dignified.”

  Nicki smiled. “Would it hurt your dignity if I got you an apron?”

  Matt cracked two eggs into the skillet and turned around, a spatula in one hand. “Yes. Yes, it would.”

  “All right, Watson. Breakfast and then a phone call to Dr. Drew Weston, English professor and serious stamp collector.”

  Less than an hour later Nicki was sitting on her living room couch, with Matt right next to her and her cell phone on speaker.

  “Hi. My name is Nicki Connors. I’m a friend of Sam and Ben, the stamp collectors who live in California. Is this Dr. Weston?”

  “It is. And Sam told me you might be calling.” The voice sounded friendly and relaxed. Nicki tried to fit it to the picture of the gray-haired, portly man with the goatee that she’d found online. It turned out that since Drew Weston was indeed a professor and a prominent stamp collector, there was quite a bit of information about him floating around the internet.

  “Oh good. I’m here with Matt Dillon. He’s the editor for Food & Wine Online and a good friend.”

  “Is this also an interview for the magazine?”

  “No, Dr. Weston,” Matt quickly spoke up. “This is solely about Eddie Parker’s murder.”

  “I see.” The professor sounded disappointed. “Sam told me what happened. Such a tragedy. I liked Eddie and enjoyed talking to him. And both of you, please call me Drew.”

  “Thank you. And I’m Nicki and he’s Matt.”

  “Well, I need to get my most pressing question out of the way. Was Eddie killed because of the stamps?”

  “We don’t know.” Nicki paused, considering her words. “It could be, but there may have been another reason, or maybe it was a random act. The police are still investigating.”

  A loud snort came through the speakers. “Since his office and apartment were searched, I doubt if it was a random act.”

  Nicki wasn’t surprised that Drew Weston already knew about the office and apartment being searched. “When was the last time you saw Eddie?”

  “Saw him? Well that would have been the night all four of us, Sam, Ben, Eddie and myself, had wine in the basement of Eddie’s diner, and then hamburgers and fries later on, when we went back upstairs. It was the same night that Eddie showed us his full sheet of the non-inverted Jenny. So over two weeks ago, going on three weeks now.”

  “And the last time you spoke to Eddie?” Matt prompted.

  “A week after my visit to California. I got his telephone number from Sam. I wanted to make another try at persuading him to sell me those stamps.”

  “But you weren’t successful?” Nicki looked over at Matt who was busy taking diligent notes of the conversation. He also had his cell phone lying on the couch between himself and Nicki, and the recording icon was flashing red. The former engineer was certainly thorough.

  “No I wasn’t, more’s the pity. Especially now that the stamps are missing.”

  Nicki shook her head. Sam had certainly wasted no time in keeping his friend back East up on every detail of Eddie’s murder.

  “If he turned you down that night in his wine cellar, why did you call and try again?” Nicki had wondered about that ever since Sam and Ben had both claimed that Eddie had always been adamant that he would not part with his stamps.

  The professor chuckled. “Because I’m a dealer as well as a collector, Ms. Connors. We never stop trying to improve our inventory. And when it comes to buying stamps, a collector’s ‘no’ doesn’t always mean ‘no’. I got a niggle of a feeling that Eddie might be willing to let go of the stamps. I have a good internal radar for picking up on that kind of thing. But when I asked him, he said he couldn’t sell them to me.”

  Nicki frowned. “Is that all he said? That he couldn’t sell them?”

  “Well, we talked a bit longer. Eddie had dreams of being part of a franchise. He’d mentioned that to all of us when we were enjoying our wine in his basement. And he had a big project coming up that he wasn’t too detailed about, but he seemed very excited.” There was a short moment of silence. “He didn’t say much more than that. Our conversation barely lasted ten minutes, as I recall.”

  “And you didn’t talk to him at any time after that phone call?” Matt leaned forward, his pencil poised over his small notebook.

  “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.” There was a sound of rustling papers. “I have a message here that a Chief Turnlow from Soldoff called. I imagine he’ll be asking the same things?”

  Nicki sidestepped his question by giving him an indirect answer. “I’d call him as soon as you have a free minute, Professor. He can be persistent.”

  “Yes, well. I returned his call yesterday but was told he was out in the field.”

  “Weren’t we all?” Matt said under his breath.

  “I’m sure he’ll be in touch today,” Nicki said quickly, hoping to cover up his comment. She certainly didn’t want to have to explain yesterday’s events to a curious stamp collector who was also a college professor. “We appreciate your time, Drew.”

  “Not a problem at all. Sam told me that you’re doing a little investigating of your own, and that you’re pretty good at it. He said you’ve already solved two murders.”

  Nicki wondered what the Soldoff’s Chief of Police would say about that. “Well, I was only helping our police department. Thank you again. Bye.”

  She politely waited for the professor to say his goodbye and click off first before she pushed the disconnect button. Leaning against the cushy back of the couch, she folded her hands in front of her and stared at them, going over what the professor had said in her mind. One thing leaped out and danced around in front of her.

  “So what do you think?” Matt’s quiet voice broke into her thoughts.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We didn’t hear much that we didn’t already know.”

  “Not much?” Matt set his notepad on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Which implies we’d heard much of what the professor said already, but not everything. So what is it that he said that we haven’t heard before?”

  Nicki glanced at the mini recorder. “Can you replay when Eddie told him about selling the stamps?”

  “Sure.” Matt fiddled with the buttons on his phone until he came to the part of the conversation about the stamps. He replayed it several times until Nicki sat back again, a satisfied smile on her face.

  Matt set his phone aside. “What? Eddie refused to sell him the stamps. We already knew Eddie wouldn’t sell the stamps.”

  “But that’s not what the professor said, Matt. He’s an English professor, so I’d bet he’s pretty precise about the language.” She looked at Matt’s phone lying on the coffee table. “He didn’t say Eddie wouldn�
�t sell him the stamps. He said Eddie couldn’t sell them to him.”

  Nicki grinned at the dumbstruck look on Matt’s face. It was the same way she’d felt when she’d realized what the professor had said when he was relating his conversation with Eddie.

  “Then you think Eddie said that he couldn’t sell the stamps because he’d already sold them?” Matt rubbed his chin before he picked up his phone. “We should call the chief.”

  She nodded her agreement. “Yes. And before he makes his own phone call. Ask the chief to find out if the professor uses the same word when he’s describing what Eddie said.”

  “And verify the word.” Matt lifted his phone to his ear. His conversation with the chief was brief and to the point. When he’d hung up, he smiled at Nicki. “The chief agreed to let us know what the professor says.”

  “Great.” Nicki winced when she stretched out her back.

  “I think you should lie down for a while.”

  “I think I’d rather go take another look at the murder board.” When Matt started to protest, Nicki added, “it will take my mind off these few minor aches and pains.”

  “Uh huh. Minor.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your face isn’t calling them ‘minor’. I say you stay right here and rest.”

  “Fine. If you’ll sit with me for a few minutes and give me your best expert opinion on how Eddie would have gone about quietly selling that sheet of stamps.”

  Matt gathered up his notebook and phone. He fluffed out one of the decorative pillows and grabbed the colorful throw Nicki kept over the back of the couch. “Lie down while I mull it over.”

  With a resigned sigh Nicki scooted into a prone position as Matt arranged the throw over her before taking a chair on the other side of the coffee table. Nicki thought it looked as if he was getting pretty comfortable in it.

  “You aren’t going to sit there and watch me sleep, are you?”

  “Maybe.” When she frowned, he grinned at her. “But I was thinking of going into your office and doing some work, after I answered your question of course.”

  “Okay. Answer away, Watson.”

  “A private party or an auction house.”

  “An auction house?” Nicki shook her head. “Hard to keep it quiet if you sell something at an auction house.”

  “If he was trying to keep it quiet, and that’s a big ‘if’, Sherlock, he probably only wanted to keep it quiet in Soldoff. So he could have used an auction house. Sam and Ben might have picked up on a sheet of the stamps being sold, but it isn’t the only one in existence. Eddie could have told the auction house to keep the source anonymous.”

  Nicki considered it. “Since Eddie wasn’t a big-time collector, it might have been hard for him to quietly connect with a private buyer.”

  “Especially if he needed a quick sale,” Matt added.

  “But then the question would be, why? Why would he need a quick sale? And even if he didn’t, why sell the stamps now?” She looked over at Matt. “Do you have any connections at one of the well-known auction houses?”

  “You mean like Christies?” Matt shook his head. “But I am friends with a guy who works at Heritage House.”

  Her interest immediately piqued back up. “The one in San Francisco? Ben had one of their business cards on his desk. Can you call your friend?”

  Matt dutifully held out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “Calling right now.” Matt tapped on his phone before he held it up to his ear. Several seconds of silence rolled by before he smiled.

  “Hey, Ryan. It’s Matt Dillon. Yeah, fine man. How about you?”

  Nicki threw the cover off and managed to sit up. She waved away Matt’s frown and mouthed the word “coffee” before walking stiffly across the room. As much as it hurt, she was sure moving would be more help than lying down all day, so she gritted her teeth and limped her way to the kitchen to make them a cup of coffee. She’d managed to get the drip process underway when Matt walked in.

  “Why don’t you go lie down, and I’ll bring that out to you?” His expression set into a stubborn look that Nicki was beginning to recognize as his I’m-not-going-to-budge face. “Go lie down or I won’t tell you what Ryan said.”

  Nicki started to make a comment about his blackmailing skills when she thought better of it. That really was enough moving around for the time being.

  “You know where the coffee mugs are,” she said as she made her way slowly around the island and into the hallway. Matt caught up with her, a mug of coffee in each hand, just as she reached the couch. Carefully lowering herself onto the cushions, Nicki managed to get comfortable again. She propped her shoulders on a pillow she’d shoved up against the couch’s arm.

  “Okay. I’m lying down.” She smiled her thanks when Matt handed her a mug of coffee. “What did your friend say?”

  “Ryan didn’t know of any valuable stamps coming up for sale in the last month or so. But he’s going to check the catalogs. We’re going to meet him for lunch the day after tomorrow.”

  “We are?”

  “The outing will do you good, and according to Alex, who I called this morning, most of the muscle pain from being banged around in your car should be gone by then. But don’t do any jogging.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it,” Nicki said dryly.

  He laughed. “It’s nice when we agree on something.”

  Nicki smiled and closed her eyes. She heard Matt walk across the room, his footsteps fading away, and thought he must have gone into the office to get his work done. But moments later he came back and settled into the chair again. It wasn’t long before she heard the soft click of a keyboard. Checking his email. She snuggled beneath the blanket. It was comforting to know he wasn’t far away. She was just drifting off when the sharp ring of a cell phone cut through the air.

  She glanced over at Matt who gave her an apologetic look.

  “Sorry. I should have put it on mute.” He lifted it up to his ear and said a soft “Matt Dillon”, followed by “hello, Chief.”

  Nicki raised her head and propped it in the crook of her elbow, staring at him as he listened to whatever the chief was telling him.

  “Yeah, that is interesting. I don’t know. Uh huh. Well, thanks for letting us know, I’ll pass it along to Nicki. She’s doing fine. Resting, per the doctor’s order. Okay. Thanks.” He lowered the phone and grinned at her.

  “Well, it looks like visiting my buddy at the auction house is a good idea after all.”

  “Is it?” Nicki’s smile grew wider.

  “Yep. The professor is absolutely certain that Eddie said he couldn’t sell him the sheet of stamps. The chief said that might mean that Eddie couldn’t bring himself to sell them, or that he’d already sold them. Since you like the second explanation, then I guess we’ll be making that trip into the city.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Three hot baths, two good nights of sleep, and a constant stream of visitors to cheer her up, had Nicki feeling human again by the time they left to visit the Heritage Auction house in downtown San Francisco. Nicki was looking forward to the trip. She’d spent the day before catching up on her blog and novel writing, while Matt had moved his few belongings back to Maxie’s house where he’d spent the day working in the genealogist’s well-equipped and spacious office. By the time Matt picked her up for their appointment in the city, she was happy with the sizable dent she’d made in her backlog of work.

  It took them just over an hour to reach Battery Street where the auction house was located, and another fifteen minutes to find a parking garage with an empty space for the car. Nicki winced at the posted rates and made a mental note to buy their lunch today. After all, she’d dragged Matt into another murder, and she didn’t want him to pay for that dubious privilege. When they reached the sidewalk, Matt turned right.

  “It’s a couple of blocks down.”

  “How long have you known this friend of yours?” She was always amazed at the number of people Matt knew all over the country.
“And is he a friend, or more of a business acquaintance?”

  “Definitely a friend. We go back a ways. I met him in college.”

  “Oh? Is he another engineer who fled to the arts?”

  Matt grinned. “Hardly. He majored in Art History, or something like that.” He winked at her. “We met because he plays a mean game of basketball.”

  “That’s a sport, right?”

  “Nicki, I live in the Midwest. I can’t be seen in public with someone who doesn’t know that basketball is a sport.”

  She laughed at the exasperation in his voice. “All right, all right.” She held her hands up in surrender. “I do know something about basketball, and I confess I’ve even been to a game or two.”

  “Really?” Now he sounded skeptical.

  “Really. My mom was a Knicks fan.”

  Matt looked at her and his eyes softened behind the lenses of his glasses. “I wish I could have met her.”

  Nicki slipped an arm through his. “I do too. She would have liked you.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Uh huh. She liked the bookish types.”

  He frowned. “Bookish? Is that a compliment? Because it doesn’t sound like one.”

  They kept up their easy banter for the entire two blocks to the offices of Heritage Auctions. Matt stopped under the signature green awning shading the front entryway.

  “Here it is.” He opened the door with a flourish, ushering Nicki inside.

  “Hey, Matt! It’s good to see you.”

  Nicki smiled at the man in the neatly tailored suit and silk tie, who was coming toward them with his hand outstretched. He was the opposite of Matt. Ryan Bevins was shorter and much stockier than his college friend. Nicki thought he looked more like a football player rather than a basketball player.

  His blond hair was neatly styled, and he looked every inch a successful businessman, right down to a neatly folded kerchief in his breast pocket. But his blue eyes shone with a bit of mischief that was charmingly at odds with his formal attire. Matt stepped forward and clasped his hand as the two men gave each other a friendly swat on the back.