by Cat Chandler
“I’ll take notes, if you want to start talking out loud. We can sort it all out later.”
Not used to that kind of helpful luxury, Nicki hesitated before giving the blank tablet over to Jane and turning her attention back to the calendar. She pointed to an entry made the day before Viola died.
“It looks like she was making the rounds of the businesses in town. This says ‘Sam/T&T’.”
“Sam, T and T,” Jane repeated. “What do you think that means?”
Maxie smiled. “That would be Tasteful & Tacky. It’s a gift shop in town owned by Sam Moore.”
“Oh,” Jane quickly wrote on the tablet. “That’s a cute name.”
Nicki laughed. “Matt thought so too when he first heard it.”
Jane’s eyebrow rose at that. “He did?”
“Not really.” Nicki grinned and went back to studying the calendar. “It looks like she visited a number of wineries. She starts all three of these appointments with a ‘W’.” Nicki studied several of the entries before pointing one out. “I think this one is Charlie’s, but I can’t quite place these other two.”
Maxie leaned over to get a better look. “Ah. That one with the two A’s and then an MV most likely is Maison du Vin, and belongs to Adam and Allie Ingram. And this third one is certainly Enfui. It’s owned by Marie Fabron, although I believe she’s retired and her son, Christophe, is running it now.”
“Son, Christophe,” Jane breathed softly as her pen kept moving across the paper.
Nicki shook her head in amazement that the admin seemed to be getting down every word when another entry caught her eye. “This one is for Madge’s shop.” She looked at Maxie with a question in her eyes. “Isn’t the local Historical Society located in the back of Madge’s shop?”
“Yes, it is.” Maxie stepped away from the desk. “I think we should list all of these on our murder board.” She walked over to the whiteboard and stared at it for a long moment. “What’s this new note about a car?”
Nicki gathered the scattered papers together and crossed over to stand next to Maxie. “The chief said the murder occurred between seven and eight in the morning. But I went by Viola’s several times during that hour and never saw a soul. Or a car.”
Her landlady frowned. “This property is a good fifteen minutes out of town, and no close neighbors. We can’t even see the writers’ colony from our house. So how did this killer get to Viola’s without having some kind of transportation?”
“Maybe an ATV that he could ride through the woods and the field in back of the townhouse?” Jane suggested.
“That’s a good thought,” Nicki said. “But I’m assuming if the police had found any three-wheeled tracks out back it would have been noted in the police report, and Chief Turnlow didn’t mention it.”
“He could be holding back a bit of information,” Maxie said. “My Mason used to do that on occasion. Which means paying another visit to the station, preferably when the chief is out.”
Jane pursed her lips. “I assume we would be taking orange muffins, which are Fran’s favorite?”
Nicki sighed and placed a hand over her heart. “It’s so gratifying to be that predictable.”
“Yes, dear. But we do need an answer for how the person who killed Viola got to the townhouse,” Maxie said.
“And into it,” Nicki added. “I didn’t see any forced entry at the back patio or the front door.”
Jane walked over to the board and started neatly printing into the various columns.
Happy to have anyone else do that chore, Nicki started repeating what the autopsy had shown. “She didn’t have any alcohol in her system, so I’d say it was very unlikely for Viola to have been pouring the stuff all over the yard. And there was a bruise on her back and scratches on her face and hands.”
Jane paused and looked over her shoulder. “Yes. I remember the chief saying that. What do you think caused them? A fight with her attacker?”
“It could be,” Nicki said. “But I’d guess they’re from one of the steps when she tried to free herself.”
Maxie suddenly gasped. “Are you saying she was held down, and that’s why she drowned?”
“Very likely,” Jane said in her brisk, no-nonsense tone. “The coroner stated in his report that he didn’t think the injury from the fall was hard enough to knock her out, and there is that unexplained bruise on her back.”
“That’s horrible,” Maxie declared. “Simply horrible.”
“I’m sorry, Maxie,” Nicki said again. “I know this is hard for you to hear.”
“I didn’t care much for Viola Richards,” Maxie admitted. “But she didn’t deserve this. I can’t imagine why someone would do something like that.”
Nicki looked down at the copy of the calendar she held in her hand. “Or what would drive someone to do it.”
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
Nicki paused along the path that curved out of the woods and back toward the road. She loved the quiet of a run in the early morning hours, even if she wasn’t wild about the actual act of running itself. She spent so much of her day sitting at a desk, that an hour of daily exercise was not only essential for her health but helped clear the cobwebs out of her head. So, to make up for all that sitting, she made herself roll out of bed early each morning, even if she did spend the first fifteen minutes groaning about it.
To take her mind off the last two miles still stretching in front of her, Nicki started a mental list of the tasks that needed to be done as soon as she was finished with her habitual collapse after her morning run. Beginning with the paperwork that Suzanne always handed her to complete after every cooking class.
The class itself had gone off without a hitch, even if she had started out completely distracted by the day’s events. But thirty minutes into the two-hour session, she’d found her natural rhythm in the kitchen, and Nicki the food writer easily returned to her roots as Nicki, the classically trained gourmet chef.
She’d been very happy as soon as she’d relaxed and begun to genuinely enjoy the process of creating a delicious plate of food. So did everyone else in the class. By the end of the session, there had been laughter and a great many “oohs” and “ahs” over the enticing aromas and heavenly bites. Even the executive chef at Mario’s had given her a hug and showered her with compliments until she’d been blushing a bright red.
Which was a good thing. Once the last smiling student had left, she’d all but collapsed onto the living room couch and pleaded complete fatigue when Suzanne had handed her the usual inventory and critique sheets to fill out.
In one of those rare moments of pure brilliance, she’d sent her enthusiastic business partner chasing after Mario’s chef for an endorsement that could be used to help market the classes, along with a promise to drop the completed paperwork off at Suzanne’s house in the morning.
Which was today. So she had to get that done first thing, or run the risk of Suzanne dropping in unexpectedly and standing over Nicki until she’d filled everything out, dotting every “i” and crossing every “t”.
Nicki jogged to a stop and bent over at the waist, bracing her hands on her upper thighs as she waited for her breathing to even out. Once she’d stopped sounding like an old-fashioned steam engine, she straightened up and eyed the distance between herself and the barely discernible group of townhouses at the end of the long, empty length of road.
Walking was good exercise too, and would give her more time to think through everything that had happened yesterday. Nicki’s head was down as her gaze tracked along the ground as she strolled along the road, her hands in the pockets of her lightweight jacket. The pavement that wandered through Maxie’s property was bordered on either side by large, open fields, and was the only way in to the artists’ colony from the main road that ran past the property and led into town,
Looking back over her shoulder, Nicki frowned. She had taken her run the morning Viola Richards had died, and also driven to the local market, all close to or withi
n the hour that Dr. Tom had listed as the time of death in his report. Anyone not familiar with her routine, which meant anyone except her close friends, wouldn’t have known what time she’d be on the road, so it was not likely she would have completely missed passing a strange car or one parked in front of Viola’s townhouse.
But if Viola hadn’t been murdered, and it really was an accident, why would she have wiped all her files off her laptop? And Jenna had verified that someone had done it when she’d stopped by Nicki’s place after helping Danny load the electronics into the backseat of his police cruiser.
The two friends had managed a good twenty minutes of catch-up, with Jenna describing that the event log on Viola’s laptop clearly showed that she, or someone who’d known her password had logged onto the genealogist’s laptop right in the time frame the coroner had listed as the time she’d been killed. It wasn’t much, and didn’t tell them what files had been deleted, but someone had logged on, and now all the files, and the genealogy database, were gone. When Jenna finished, Nicki offered a happy but quick account of her conversation with Matt.
According to Jenna, Matt was indeed the most adorable male on the planet, and the electronic files had definitely been deleted. The event log on the machine confirmed that easily enough. And why in heaven’s name would Viola have splashed what had smelled like an entire bottle of Scotch all over her backyard?
There were too many contradictions and no clear path to follow. Nicki chewed on her lower lip. A trip to the police station was definitely in order. She needed to know what the forensics team had found. Hopefully something.
But whether they had or not, she could also start retracing Viola’s steps, thanks to the very thorough Melinda sending a copy of the dead woman’s calendar. Having picked up her second wind, Nicki quickened her pace. If she was going to go into town today, she needed to get some of her own work done first. And of course. there was the eleven a.m. call from Matt to look forward to.
Smiling, Nicki broke into a slow jog which had her turning up the walkway to her front door twenty minutes later. Jane met her with a steaming mug of coffee, which she held out to Nicki.
“It’s not as good as yours, but a definite improvement over what I usually make.” Jane nodded her approval. “I used the bottled water in the cabinet under the espresso machine.” When Nicki grinned, Jane’s mouth curved upward, showing two small dimples in the middle of each cheek. “Matt told me about it.”
Jane was dressed a bit more casually today, in a pair of cream-colored slacks and a dark blouse, although both were crisply pressed.
“Speaking of my boss. I’ve arranged our schedule today so we could make a trip into town after your phone call with Matt later this morning.” She stared expectantly at Nicki from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “How long do you anticipate the call to take?”
“Well, um…” Nicki had no idea how to answer that.
“Understandable.” Jane nodded briskly as she turned toward the office. “I’ll leave the time flexible.”
Nicki followed behind while Jane went on outlining their day as she crossed to the far side of the office and took a seat at the desk that myMason had assembled for her.
“I’ve listed all the items in the ‘to-do’ column of the murder board, and thought we should split the tasks in two, to allow time for interviews and possible delays to our schedule.”
Nicki wasn’t sure how to respond to her entire day being so organized and structured, and wasn’t even sure any comment from her was required. Sitting down at her own desk, she turned on her computer and waited for it to power up.
“I’m not sure what we should do about that.”
Realizing she’d completely missed a whole part of Jane’s recitation, Nicki felt a twinge of guilt as she turned in her chair to face the admin. “I’m sorry. Do about what?”
“A bribe for Fran.” She looked down and flipped over several pages in her notebook. “You mentioned yesterday that you wanted to stop by the police station, and hoped to catch her there when Chief Turnlow was out so you could ask her what else was in the crime scene reports. I believe the chief mentioned something about orange muffins?”
“Um, yes, I did say that.” Nicki tapped a finger against her chin. “I won’t have time to make the muffins, but there are some scones left over from the class last night.”
“Scones?” Jane’s eyebrows drew together. “I thought you were making a veal dish?”
Nicki smiled. “We did, but I always have a little treat for the students, and last night it was cherry-lemon scones.”
Jane made a check mark on her paper and continued on. “Then you’re agreeable to visiting the police station and moving on to the Historical Society? The town map I found on the internet showed that it’s right across the square.”
Not at all sure she wanted to be locked into such a rigid schedule, but having no desire to hurt her new office mate’s feelings, Nicki smiled and nodded while she quickly considered her options. “Two of the wineries on Viola’s calendar have tasting rooms near the square, and Sam’s gift shop is also an easy walk from the station.”
Without missing a beat, Jane nodded as she continued to jot down notes. “Then we’ll set it up as blocks of time, and cross off the various tasks as we complete them without setting a particular order.”
“That sounds fine.” Nicki thought it would work. At least she was willing to give it a try.
“Now, we have time for several hours of work before your call with Matt. Where would you like to start?” Jane asked without looking up from her notebook.
“With a shower and another cup of coffee.” Nicki tossed a smile at the frowning admin before fleeing the room.
Two hours later, Nicki waited impatiently for Matt’s image to come up on the screen. With Jane tactfully working temporarily at the kitchen counter, and the office door firmly shut, Nicki was looking forward to spending a quiet hour with Matt, even if it was only on Skype.
But the first thing he said wasn’t the best news.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of time today, honey.” Matt glanced down, and Nicki imagined he was looking at the iPad version of Jane’s notebook. “I have a pretty tight schedule today.”
Fighting a wave of disappointment, Nicki managed a smile. “As it happens, so do I, thanks to Jane’s organizational skills.”
Matt grinned back at her. “She does keep the day moving, doesn’t she?”
“Hmm.” Nicki thought it would be a good idea to switch topics. “How’s the Paris office coming along?”
Matt blew out a long breath. “There’s a lot to do, more than I realized there would be.” His
brown-eyed gaze turned serious. “But I promise to get it done and be home before you know it.”
Sure she’d be counting every second until then, Nicki rather doubted that, but gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll get it done, and it will be a big success.”
“Hope so. How’s the investigation coming?” He squinted behind the lenses of his glasses. “It looks like you’ve added quite a bit to your murder board.”
Nicki propped her chin on her hands and sighed. “There isn’t that much to tell.” She gave him a quick description of the problem of the missing computer files, the Scotch, and the lack of a car on the road.
Matt frowned as he adjusted his glasses. “That’s a puzzle,” he conceded. “Where are you going to start?”
“At the police station.” Nicki laughed when Matt immediately grinned. “Yes, Matt. At the very safe, well-protected police station. And then maybe walk across the square to Madge’s shop and the section in back that she’s given over to the town’s Historical Society.”
“Sounds great!”
Not at all surprised Matt would wholeheartedly approve of the list of activities Jane had worked up for them, Nicki shook her head at him. “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t interrupt your work there to escort me around town?”
“No. I’d rather be escorting you anywhere t
han be here without you.”
Nicki’s heart melted. It wasn’t just the words, it was the special way Matt said them, as if anyone should know that.
An alarm went off and Matt raised his wrist and tapped a finger against the face of his watch. “I’m sorry, Nicki. I have to go.” He paused and leaned in closer. “I love you. Remember that and don’t do anything that’s the least bit risky.”
She smiled back at him. “I love you too, Matt.”
When the screen went blank, she took out her phone and tapped out a message. If she was only going to get fifteen minutes of her allotted time for her phone call with Matt, she was going to make the most of the rest of their allotted hour.
Five minutes later, Jenna slipped into the office and closed the door behind her. She grinned at her petite friend.
“Well that call didn’t last long. I guess the honeymoon is over once the ‘L’ word is mentioned.”
“Ha, ha. Don’t make me sorry I told you that we both mentioned the ‘L’ word.”
Jenna held her grin as she went over to Jane’s desk and pulled out the chair neatly tucked underneath it. Plopping down, she stretched her long legs out in front of her.
“So why was the call so short?”
Nicki sighed. “He had a lot of work to do today.”
“So do I.” Jenna shrugged. “But I’d be happy to sit here as long as you like.”
“What I’d like is for you to go over and keep Maxie company while Jane and I are in town this afternoon.”
“As much as I like all the food you make for me, I’m not sure it’s worth a whole afternoon alone with Maxie. What would we talk about, anyway? I’ll have to pass.” Jenna stretched her arms over her head. “Remember all that work we just talked about?”
“Uh huh. Remember the I’ll-do-anything-as-long-as-you-like that you just mentioned?” Nicki complained. “And you’d starve from lack of decent nutrition that is not found in hamburgers if I didn’t feed you. Which will be quite a while from now if you don’t keep Maxie’s mind off Viola’s murder.”
