by Cat Chandler
“Pondering your case?”
She scrunched her nose up with a grin. “It’s not my case. I think Chief Thomas would say it was his.”
Matt’s lips curved upward. “Did he know you were going to talk to the Ashtons?” His smile widened. “Is he at the station expecting a call? Because if he is, we can always claim poor cell service until after we finish our walk.”
Nicki shrugged. “I’m sure he knows I intended to talk with Brad. But there’s no hurry to call him. I don’t know that I have anything to tell him.”
She fell silent again, thinking about what the Ashtons had said. She knew Brad was the most likely suspect, but no more than Lydia or maybe even Mink Fusion. The only thing that tipped the scales toward Brad Ashton was opportunity. He had easy access to the building, and it was unlikely the other two had a key. Of course, they might have made a copy of Robin’s key. Either woman would probably have been able to pull that off.
Sighing, Nicki kept running the possibilities through her mind as they reached the boardwalk along the harbor.
Matt gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong, Nicki? You look like something’s bothering you.”
“It’s frustrating,” Nicki admitted. “There’s no reason for Robin Boral to have been murdered. Robin wasn’t famous for anything, or rich, and I can’t see him making anyone jealous over something he did or had. And nothing was stolen, except maybe a bottle of Cabernet, or maybe a Bordeaux, that Robin inherited from his dad.”
“It could be something as simple as he wasn’t very well liked.”
“Neither is Andrew Benson. He works there too, and he’s still alive and walking around,” Nicki said. And it seemed from what she’d heard, between Andrew and Robin, the chef had the meaner personality.
“It could have been an argument that got out of hand,” Matt said. “That happens. The guy didn’t seem to bring out the best in people.”
“And the person he was arguing with just happened to have a gun with him? Or her?” Nicki shook her head.
“Maybe it was Robin’s gun, and the killer managed to get hold of it.”
Again, Nicki shook her head. “Robin was sitting at his desk when he was shot, and besides the temperature-controlled cabinet, it was the only piece of furniture in the room. So if he’d had a gun, it would have been kept in his desk. Which means for the killer to get it, he would have had to have asked Robin to please move so he could open whichever drawer it was in.”
The easy-going editor chuckled. “And that wouldn’t have happened. Which means the killer brought the gun with him.” He smiled at Nicki. “Or her. And the murder was premeditated.”
“But why?” Nicki blew out a frustrated breath. “Brad could have forced the sale of the company, since it was in the partnership agreement, so he didn’t need to kill Robin to be able to do that. And when you take a step back, Lydia had gotten everything she wanted — a piece of the business, a new will leaving the whole estate to her daughter, and a ring on her finger even if it did take her five years to get it and didn’t keep it.”
“Which is more than the current girlfriend can say,” Matt observed.
Nicki looked out over the water. “I just feel like we’re missing something.”
Matt stopped and faced her. “Which is what that murder board is for. To lay everything out. But we don’t happen to have one handy right at the moment, so what do you say to trying something else?”
“Such as?”
He grinned and pointed behind her. “How about ice cream?”
Nicki glanced over her shoulder. An old-fashioned shop, that didn’t look much bigger than a two-car garage, had scalloped edging over the door and three large chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream cones painted on the front window. There weren’t any neon lights anywhere, but the very uninspired name of “The Sweet Shoppe” was lettered right over the entrance. There was a small We’re Open sign hanging from the doorknob.
She looked back at Matt and wiggled her eyebrows. “They’d better have chocolate chip mint.”
“Let’s find out.” Matt reached around her and opened the door, ushering her inside the cool interior of the shop.
It only took Nicki thirty seconds to find her favorite flavor and place her order, and then she waited a good ten minutes as Matt slowly walked up and down in front of the counter, peering into every tub. She had to turn away a couple of times to hide her smile. The brainy world-traveler, who’d started a successful magazine, obviously took the whole process of selecting a flavor of ice cream very seriously.
After another minute went by and he was making his third pass down the aisle, Nicki had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
“Have you narrowed it down?”
He put his hands behind his back and studied the selections at the far end of the counter. “I’ve narrowed it down. I have three on my list.”
“Ah. You have a list. Very efficient.” When his gaze shifted from the ice cream to her, Nicki gave him an innocent smile. “Take your time, Matt. We’re in no hurry.”
Matt looked over at the bored clerk standing behind the counter and making snapping noises with her chewing gum. “I’ll have three scoops of the strawberry.”
Nicki almost choked. “Three scoops? And all strawberry?”
He nodded. “That’s my decision and I’m sticking with it.”
She barely made it out of the shop with her single cup of chocolate chip mint before bursting out into laughter. The puzzled look Matt gave her only made Nicki laugh harder.
“What’s so funny?”
“Ten minutes of studying every single flavor in there, from a cappuccino to kiwi-lime, and you decided on strawberry?”
He steered her over to a bench, waiting for her to take a seat before he sank down beside her. “You don’t like strawberry ice cream, or strawberries in general?”
The engineer-turned-magazine-editor looked so serious and adorable, Nicki had to lean over and kiss him.
When they broke apart, he winked at her. “Thanks. I guess I’ll be ordering nothing but strawberry from now on if that’s my reward.”
Nicki popped a spoonful of chocolate chip mint into her mouth. “It would certainly cut down on the selection process.”
They enjoyed their treat, and the view, for a long while. The gentle breeze and occasional call of a sea gull worked its magic as they both visibly relaxed until Nicki was leaning against Matt’s side. He set his empty cup on the bench and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you cold?”
“No”, Nicki said as she snuggled in a little closer. “Are you?”
“Nope.” Matt smiled. “This is a nice place.”
“Is it going back on that list you mentioned earlier?” She looked up at him. “And I didn’t mean the one for the ice cream.”
“I don’t know. Those lists have to be flexible.”
He stared off into the distance before running a hand through his hair, leaving several strands sticking out. It was a habit of his, and Nicki always had to fight the urge to smooth the dark hair back into place.
“I need to talk to you about something. I was going to wait until after the wedding, but it seems my timetable has changed a little.
“Timetable?” Nicki knew Matt liked to plan everything out, but she didn’t recall him mentioning anything specific that had a deadline.
Matt angled his body so he could easily meet her gaze. “I had a list to go with a six-month plan. One where we’d see each other every other weekend, while we discussed where would be a good place for us to be in the same city.”
Nicki’s heart rate picked up. That was a pretty serious statement to make. Matt was talking about one of them moving so they could be together. More than once over the last few months she’d thought how great it would be if they lived in the same city. But she didn’t want to leave Soldoff and all her friends, and she certainly couldn’t ask Matt to move. He had a business to run, and it was in Kansas City. So she’d shied a
way from the thought of where their relationship would go into the future. Mostly because she couldn’t see how to make that future happen.
“You aren’t saying anything.” Matt ran a gentle finger down her cheek. “Is that because you don’t like the idea of us being in the same place?”
She shook her head. “I like the idea a lot. I just don’t know how we can do that.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Only because we haven’t discussed it yet. I thought we’d do that in two months.”
Nicki rolled her eyes. “Two months? And then what, Mr. Engineer?”
“Then we’d make a decision of how that’s going to happen and put it into action. I figured we’d have it all resolved and in place in six months.”
“Uh huh.” Nicki grinned. “Should I put a particular date for our discussion on my calendar?”
“Well, see… that’s where the lists being flexible comes in.”
“Okay.” Nicki’s smile faded. She didn’t like the sound of that.
Matt ran a hand through his hair, making another piece of it stand straight up. “When Jane called, it wasn’t just about the Natural Food For All advertising account.”
Nicki laid a hand on the long leg pressed next to hers. “There’s another problem?”
“Not a problem exactly.” The editor sighed. “Do you remember me telling you about opening a European office for Food and Wine Online?”
“Of course. You were looking for space.”
He nodded. “We got a line on the perfect spot in Paris with the necessary internet connection. But it came up pretty fast, and they wanted an immediate lease. So I had them fax the papers, and I signed and sent them back last night. To make this work financially, this office has to be up and running in the next thirty days.”
Nicki went very still. “And you have to be there?”
“Yeah.” Matt laid his hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to move to Paris?”
Matt gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I have to, Nicki. I need to be sure the office is set up the right way.”
Feeling completely deflated, Nicki blinked rapidly to keep back the tears. The last thing she wanted to do was to make Matt feel guilty enough to abandon his dream of creating an international presence for his magazine.
“I understand.” She managed to get the words out, but kept her head down and turned slightly away from him. If he got one look at her face, he’d know how upset she was.
“I’m sorry.” Matt took in a deep breath. “It shouldn’t take more than three months, and I plan on flying back to see you at least twice. Or maybe you could come to Paris? I like to…”
Her head snapped up. “Wait a minute. Three months? Did you say three months?”
Matt blinked at her, then cautiously nodded. “I’ll do my best to make it shorter, but three months should definitely be enough time.”
Nicki threw her arms around Matt’s neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He automatically pulled her close and dropped a kiss into her hair. “What’s the matter? I can come home more often if…”
She looked up at him and smiled through her tears. “No, no. Twice is fine. I thought you were going to move permanently to Paris.”
Understanding dawned in his deep-brown eyes. He brushed her hair away from her face and lowered his mouth to hers. It was several long, satisfying moments later before he raised his head and smiled at her. “That was the best compliment I’ve ever had in my life, Nicki Connors. Thank you.”
“I should be mad that you didn’t tell me right away that it was only temporary, but I’m too happy at the moment to care.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t honestly believe that I’d move off somewhere and leave you behind, did you? Because that isn’t going to happen.” He loosened his arms enough so he could lean back against the bench. “But it does mean we’ll have to put our discussion about where to live off for a few more months.”
Nicki smiled at him. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I know. It just isn’t the way I’d planned it.”
She hugged his arms and laughed. “You can live with that.”
“Not going to have much choice,” Matt grumbled as his cell phone suddenly began to ring. He looked down at the screen. “Jane. Probably calling back with some of the arrangements she was working on.”
“And which you need to know.” Nicki inclined her head toward the phone in Matt’s hand. “Go ahead and talk to her. I’m going to stretch my legs a little.”
Matt nodded and lifted the phone to his ear while Nicki got to her feet.
She started to walk along the harbor, intending to turn back after a few minutes, but was distracted when she walked past Paul Franklin’s flower shop. There was a “closed” sign hanging on the inside of the front door. She stepped closer and peeked in through the window. The lights were off and it didn’t appear anyone was around. Nicki looked at her watch and frowned. It was in the middle of a working day, and Paul hadn’t yet opened his shop. There was another notice underneath the ‘closed’ sign that stated the staff was attending a seminar. Nicki stepped back and frowned. Staff? What staff?
“Hi.”
The hesitant voice behind her had Nicki fixing a smile on her face before she turned around. “Hi yourself, Kylie. How’s everything going in your kitchen?”
“Oh, it isn’t my kitchen,” the young woman hastened to correct Nicki. “It’s Paul’s.” Her face fell slightly. “I don’t know who it belongs to now.”
Deciding it was way past time for Kylie to start believing in herself, Nicki shook her head. “When the executive chef isn’t there, that kitchen is yours. And no one else, not even Andrew Benson, has the right to order you around in your own kitchen.”
“He doesn’t?” Kylie’s blue eyes opened wide.
“No, he doesn’t,” Nicki said firmly. “And the next time he does, you tell him you appreciate his advice, but this is the baking kitchen and that is your area of expertise. Which is true, Kylie. Andrew Benson cannot out-cook you when it comes to desserts.”
Kylie sighed and shuffled her feet. “How can you know that? He might be a great baker.”
“Nope.” Nicki was on very sure ground on that point as she smiled at the young cook. “I went to cooking school with him, and he was a bully back then too.”
The assistant baker drew in a quick breath. “He was?”
“Absolutely.” Nicki grinned. “And his behavior didn’t improve much when he graduated second in our class. And do you know why?”
When Kylie shook her head and avidly leaned slightly forward, Nicki rocked back on her heels. “Can you make a meringue, Kylie?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Andrew Benson can’t. His meringues broke. Every. Single. Time.”
When Kylie giggled, Nicki joined in.
“So, he’s not invincible.” Nicki sobered and put a hand on top of the elfin-looking woman’s shoulder. “No one is. When the executive chef isn’t in your kitchen, then you rule it. No matter how big, how arrogant, or how nasty another chef might be, you’re the one who still runs that kitchen. Can you remember that?”
Nicki smiled when the assistant squared her shoulders and nodded. “I can.” Then her new resolve dissolved back into giggles. “He really can’t make a meringue?”
“Not one peak,” Nicki said without a twinge of guilt over that exaggeration.
Kylie glanced over at Matt who was talking rapidly into his cell phone.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“I think so.” When Kylie’s forehead puckered, Nicki grinned. “We’re still working out what to call our relationship.”
“Oh.” The assistant sighed. “He’s cute. You should keep him.”
“He’s a nice guy, too, so I just might.”
Kylie smiled. “You have really nice friends.”
Nicki could hear the wistfulness in the younger woman’s voice. “So do you, Kylie. And very loyal friends.�
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“I do?”
“Like Karen,” Nicki continued. “She ran right after Andrew when she saw him heading toward your kitchen. She told me that she knew how nasty he always was to you, and she was coming to help you out.”
“She was?” Kylie’s eyes grew wide. “She was really going to do that?”
“Yes, she was.” Nicki tilted her head to one side. “You should take her out to lunch or buy her a drink to thank her. Tell her something about yourself. You might be surprised at how much you have in common.” Nicki smiled. “Friendships take work, Kylie. But they are worth every minute you put into them.”
Chapter Ninety-Two
Thirty minutes later, Nicki and Matt walked into the lobby of the St. Armand. It was just past noon and the lunch rush didn’t look too bad. They were debating whether to go to the cafe, or go searching for Maxie and Jenna and try one of the local restaurants, when Nicki heard her name called out. Both she and Matt scanned the large, busy public area. Nicki spotted Paul Franklin first. The rotund florist was sitting in one of the chairs, a newspaper lying open in his lap as he waved at Nicki.
“Paul. The victim’s best friend,” Nicki said softly to Matt, who stood and stared at the proprietor of Franklin’s Floral Fantasies for a long moment.
“Okay. He seems pretty determined to get your attention.”
Nicki waved back as the florist pushed himself to his feet. “Do you mind if we talk to him for a few minutes? There are few things I need to clear up.”
Matt didn’t say anything as he started to move forward, bringing Nicki along with him. They met Paul halfway across the lobby. Not standing on any ceremony, the bald-headed man gave Nicki a warm hug.
“It’s good to see you.” He held her off at an arm’s length. “How’s our amateur detective coming along with her case?”
“It’s Chief Thomas’s case.” Nicki wondered how many times she was going to have to say that. “And I don’t know much more than what I did a few days ago when we talked.”
