Murder By the Glass

by Michele Scott

  “Me? Why me? Why can’t you?”

  “During the fight, my wallet was stolen from me.”

  Nikki walked over next to Derek. “We should help them.”

  Derek sighed and agreed. “You don’t need to. I’ll take care of it. You go in and get some sleep.”

  “No. I’ll go with you.”

  “Trust me, Nikki, it might be a long night. I’d feel better if you went up to your room and rested. I’ll deal with this mess. You’ve been wonderful all night to put up with Daveed and what’s her name. I certainly don’t expect you to come down to the holding tank now. Please go on up.” He kissed her cheek. “We’ll have dinner next week. I promise it won’t turn out like this.”

  She smiled at him and watched as he handed Marco his jacket, insisting he put it on. They then got inside the cab she’d just been in with Derek and rode away.

  Chapter 23

  For the second time that weekend, Nikki woke to the phone ringing. When she lifted it, she was relieved to hear Derek’s voice on the other end.

  “Hey, you. I’m so sorry about last night.”

  She stretched and sat up straight under the down comforter. “No worries. How did it go?”

  “Fine. They released him after I posted bail. I’m sure he has a nasty hangover today, and a black eye to boot.”

  “Oh, God. You’re kidding? Well, at least he has Marco to take care of him.”

  “He almost didn’t. Marco was pretty angry with Simon last night. Besides getting my brother out of jail, I also had to play relationship counselor to the two of them. I finally got Marco to mellow out. I’m sure they’re nursing their wounds back at the hotel right now.”

  “What? Aren’t you still here?” she asked. She figured he’d also still be at the hotel this morning.

  “Don’t I wish. That’s why I’m calling. I really wanted to give you a ride back to Napa today, but about the time I got back to sleep this morning I got a phone call from Manuel.” Derek referred to the vineyard manager.

  “I hear an edge in your voice. What’s up?”

  “Besides being up all night and downing three cups of java black, I’m headed back to the vineyard. Seems some kids in the wee hours of the morning decided to wreak havoc at the vineyard and one of them took a drive in one of the tractors.”

  “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “Just wait. The kid apparently drove it right into the pond, jumped out before it sank, hit the bank on the side, and broke his arm.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Derek sighed. “The worst part is, the mother is screaming the words ‘lawyer’ and ‘sue’ at poor Manuel.”

  “They can’t do that.”

  “In this litigious society who knows what they can do. Let’s hope not. Anyway, see why I had to take a drive back and get this handled? Why don’t we have dinner tomorrow night? Sound good?”

  “It does. Seven?”

  “Seven it is. I’ll be by. I don’t know if I’ll see you around the winery or not. I’ve got some business to take care of outside the winery, plus Tara Beckenroe is doing an interview with me for Winemaker Magazine.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m not too happy about it either, but since Gabriel’s death, wine sales have dropped some. I need to do some public relations, and it’s a good trade magazine to do it in. Believe me, she is the last person I want to have lunch with.”

  He was having lunch with Tara? An uneasy feeling settled in Nikki’s stomach. She knew it shouldn’t. Tara was who she was, and Derek was smart enough to see right through her. For some reason that didn’t make her feel any better.

  They hung up the phone after a few more minutes of chitchat and with Nikki reassuring Derek that she’d make it home with Simon and Marco, as those were her original plans anyway.

  The drive home was glum and somber as Marco drove with Simon suffering a massive headache, a black eye, and a major bruise to his ego.

  Nikki didn’t mind the silence; it gave her time to think about the weekend and make plans for what she needed to do next. In her head she ran down everything she had learned. Susan and Jennifer didn’t come from Rockefeller lineage. Jennifer herself had been recently placed in the will and looked to have the most to gain financially from Susan’s death, besides Kristof.

  Then there was Paulo. As much of a jerk as he appeared to be, he made good points about why he wouldn’t have wanted Susan dead. Weren’t his exact words “why murder the best lay I ever had?” Maybe, he murdered her for something else. Maybe he was actually jealous of her new husband. Nikki recalled the anger in his eyes on the day of the wedding. He didn’t look like a happy camper. Could he be one hell of an actor? Sure it didn’t bother him to have all sorts of women hanging on the line waiting their turn, but he could’ve been lying to her when he’d said that it didn’t bother him that Susan had other men.

  Then, there was good and drunk Blake Sorgensen, who’d conveniently left the reception early for Mexico for a few days. The strange thing about him was that Nikki did believe that he’d loved Susan. Man, did that girl get around, which made Nikki wonder for a second if Kristof hadn’t murdered his new wife. A thought she’d have to come back to, because for now, she was only trying to categorize those people who she knew might have possible motives, and those she knew for sure were in San Francisco over the weekend. She hadn’t forgotten the very important fact that whoever had tried to run her down and scare her away from the truth had also lived in or been visiting the city where Tony Bennett left his heart.

  Blake had admitted his love affair with the much younger woman, who not only broke his heart, but worked hard at sucking him dry. And her lame excuse for leaving him in the dust was so she could marry a younger man whom she could have children with, which according to Deirdre Dupree was not really in Susan’s plan at all. Or at least, if there were going to be children at the Waltman Castle, Susan had no plans of playing June Cleaver. Could Blake have been so torn up by Susan’s admitted change of heart that he’d done away with her? Was drowning in alcohol a guise to rid himself of the memory of murdering a woman he once claimed to love? Could be.

  All of it could be. The one thing Nikki knew could not be was that Isabel killed Susan. Someone else had done that and framed Isabel for it. Nikki dug out the pictures of Isabel and Kristof from her purse and thumbed through them one more time. Someone had been watching them. Her guess was it had been Susan herself. Susan certainly didn’t kill herself, though. Then there was Louis, the waiter gone missing. Yikes. Now he could have possibly followed Nikki and tracked her to San Fran in an attempt to get her off the trail. But that really didn’t seem plausible to her—it was too far-fetched.

  These thoughts ran through her head, until she finally closed her eyes, weary from thinking too much. She drifted off to sleep, relaxed by the gentle sway of the powerful car.

  When she opened her eyes, Marco was pulling up in front of her place. Simon was out cold, snoring. Nikki whispered a “thank you” to her newfound friend and accomplice, then watched him drive on up the hill toward the estate mansion.

  After getting inside and setting her bag down, she headed straight for her computer in the arched alcove in her kitchen. She hooked up to the Internet and went to work.

  There was one more thing bothering Nikki and it had to do with Pamela. Pamela didn’t appear to come from the same mold as Susan. What had made the friendship what it was? From all accounts Pamela had really been in love with Antoine Ferrino. Money was not a factor from what everyone who knew them together had said. Why would Pamela sustain a friendship with Susan for as many years as they had? Granted Susan fronted herself for Kristof and others, but Pamela didn’t seem to be under any pretense where her friend was concerned. It nagged Nikki a bit. They just didn’t fit, other than that they were both gorgeous. Nikki had to wonder if Pamela’s love for Antoine was real, and now Marty. So what, though? How would that weigh into murdering Susan? It really didn’t. What did weigh
in for Nikki was this whole underlying question that had kind of been plaguing her since the wedding, and meeting the people she had in the last week, Daveed and Angel included. Could true love reign between a young beauty and an old beast?

  Her curiosity was getting to her in regard to this age-old question. She made one more trip through the search engine on the Internet and found the names of Pamela’s stepchildren. How she would approach them she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even sure why she should bother calling them. She didn’t think that anything they said would lead her to discovering who had killed Susan. The thought she kept trying to push aside came to her mind. Was it possible that Isabel did murder Susan? She refused to believe it as guilt consumed her for even thinking of it. Tears sprang to her eyes at the mere frustration of it all. Crying wouldn’t help Isabel. She wiped them away as she hardened her resolve to see her friend out of the awful predicament she was in.

  Chapter 24

  Nikki came up with a story to tell Carmen Ferrino Spencer.

  “Who did you say you were again?” Carmen asked.

  “I’m Mickey Strands.” Oh, God, what a stupid name, but it came to her in that instant that it might be better to use a fake name, and that was what came to her. “I do some freelance writing for various women’s magazines. I’m currently writing an article on true love and how it can defeat all obstacles.”

  “Okay.” Carmen sounded skeptical. “Why are you calling me, then? Stan and I love each other, but you know we aren’t any different than the average couple. Who gave you our number?”

  “Actually I’m calling to speak with you about your father Antoine and his marriage with Pamela Leiland. I got your number from a friend of theirs who said they had a great marriage. The kind that was against all odds.”

  “My father died last year.”

  “I know. I’m terribly sorry. I’ve heard wonderful things about your dad and how gracious he was. I’ve also heard how wonderful he and Pamela were together and how much in love they were.”

  “Have you spoken with Pamela?”

  “I have not. I did call her, but I spoke with someone, I can’t remember who now, who informed me that Pamela recently lost a dear friend of hers and wasn’t up to talking with anyone currently. I was told to try back in a week or two. Did you know about that?”

  “Yeah, her kooky friend Susan. Pamela actually called me the other night after it happened and told me about it. She was pretty shaken up.”

  “I can imagine. From what I’d heard they were like sisters.”

  “I never got that about Pamela and Susan. I mean we all tolerated Susan, especially my dad. She was not the nicest woman you’d ever meet. Nothing against her. I hope she rests in peace, but she wasn’t too pleasant. But Pamela liked her and they were friends from way back, you know. Susan did seem to treat Pamela nicely. They did a lot of stuff together. I was even kind of jealous of their friendship.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because Pamela and I were really close, too.”

  “So, you liked her and supported her relationship with your father?”

  “Totally. At first I wasn’t too keen on her. You’ve probably seen her a few years back in some print ads, but she didn’t make it as the top model she wanted to be. Of course, I thought when she met and married my dad that it was all for the money.”

  “You changed your mind?”

  “I did. My dad had some rough times and Pamela stood by him. She didn’t care. I even overheard an argument between her and Susan about it. Susan was urging her to leave my dad. I think the words she said were something like, ‘move on to greener pastures. Find someone worth it. Someone with deep pockets.’ Pamela told her to back off. That she loved my dad and wasn’t about to leave him.”

  “What did this Susan gal say to that?” Nikki hoped she’d keep talking and not catch on to the true quest of her phone call.

  “Nothing, because I walked in at about that time. Susan shut her big mouth right away.”

  “It really was true love then, between your dad and Pamela?”

  “Definitely. She was torn up when he died. Really torn up. Susan kind of drifted out of Pamela’s life after that argument I overheard, but came bouncing back into her life after my dad was gone and insisted that Pamela move in with her. Kind of weird. Pamela and I lost touch for a little bit. I guess we each had to mourn in our own way.”

  “You said she called you a few days ago though.”

  “She did. We’ve rekindled our friendship. In fact, about a month ago when she was in the city she stopped by my husband’s business, that’s where I work, too. She wanted to take a look around because we’re expanding. We’re branching out around the country. She hung out for a bit and took a tour of the place. Then we went to lunch.”

  “That’s wonderful that you’ve remained good friends. What do you and your husband do, can I ask?”

  “It’s nothing glamorous, I can assure you. But we make good money because everyone needs one.”

  “Needs one, what?”

  “An exterminator. We have a chain of pest control companies.”

  “Like insects, rodents?”

  “You got it. That’s what we do. See, nothing exciting.”

  Nikki heard a baby wail in the background.

  “Sorry, I gotta go. Hope I helped. Trust me, my dad and Pamela truly loved each other. Bye.”

  Nikki set the receiver down and went on another search. She knew that what had killed Susan had been poison, but now the weapon of choice had opened up a whole handful of possibilities. More than ever before.

  She typed in the poison’s name that was used to kill Susan—Sodium Fluoroacetate. Right there in black and white was the fact that Sodium Fluoroacetate was a poison used in killing rodents. Nikki knew that if she were to confirm her suspicions she’d have to wait and call back to Carmen’s husband’s company in the morning when they opened. Then she’d have to make a visit to the Waltman Castle.

  She tossed and turned all night long, running various scenarios through her mind. By the time Monday morning rolled around she’d been up half the night. At eight o’clock she called The Spencer Pesticide Co., and got her answer.

  “Yes, I need to have my house treated. I have a nest of rats in the walls. I was wondering if you use Sodium Fluoroacetate?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we do. We’re very careful with it, however, and we can assure you that it will get rid of your problem.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Nikki replied. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll have to call you back. My husband just walked in the room, and I need to tell him something before he leaves for work. Thanks.”

  Nikki turned off the phone. Husband? The invisible one with the good looks, smart brain, sense of humor, and ability to make a woman scream with pleasure. And where was he? Maybe in his house across the pond from her. She knew for a fact that Derek was all of those things, except for the pleasure screaming part, and something told her he probably had a handle on that, too.

  Sodium Fluoroacetate was the poison that killed Susan. Nikki had read that it was odorless and tasteless and could kill a person in a matter of minutes to an hour. Susan must’ve had quite a bit to have it work as quickly as it did, because if it had taken longer than minutes, then the symptoms of nausea, nosebleeding, and vomiting would have shown up. She’d snorted it from a vial because she thought it was cocaine.

  Pamela had been inside her former stepdaughter’s place of business only a month earlier where the poison was kept on hand. Now that Nikki thought she knew who the killer was, she would have to get the proof she needed in order to see that Isabel was released from jail and the right person placed behind bars.

  She would have to call Kristof once she got into her office. Once there, she was surprised that a rep from the Waltman Castle had already left her a voice mail—Deirdre Dupree.

  “Hi, Nikki. There’s a note here on my desk to give you a call about the grapes we discussed the other day. Marty wants to see you this afternoon
at around four, if that works. I can’t make it, though. I have another appointment. Sorry. Can you call me back and leave a message? I’ll be out a good share of the day. Oh, and it says here that he’d like you to come by the house instead of the winery. Thanks.”

  Lady Luck was on her side. She’d go and see Marty about the grapes and then talk to Kristof about what she believed was the truth. He’d have to listen to her. She believed there was a part of him that cared about Isabel, and although she’d considered him a viable suspect, especially after spotting him with Deirdre the other day, she didn’t think he had it in him. He was a womanizer, not a killer. Once Nikki presented to him everything she’d found out, then he could go to the police and they would reopen the investigation. Hopefully. She returned Deirdre’s call and left her a voicemail confirming the four o’clock appointment with Marty.