Murder By the Glass

by Michele Scott

  The day dragged on, as she formed multiple conversations in her head with Kristof and how it might all go.

  Nikki checked her watch and the clock several times throughout the day. It was finally time to close up shop and head out. She said her goodbyes to her co-workers and got behind the wheel of her car.

  On the drive over, she decided to call Simon and Marco, give them a run down of her findings. She hadn’t seen them around all day and figured they must still be trying to work out their differences. Since being back at the vineyard they’d popped their head inside her office at least once a day to show her either some new sketch or idea on their Zen Wine Campaign, or to provide her with more wisdom from the Guru Sansibaba. She got their voice mail and left them a message on Marco’s cell.

  She made it to Sonoma in record time even with the traffic. She chided herself for not keeping within speed limits. Highway 12 was not a highway anyone should be speeding on, but she wanted to get this over with. Her plan was to talk honestly with Kristof about everything she’d found out. He might or might not believe her. She doubted the police would, so she’d thought that out of everyone in this group of dysfunctionals, Kristof might be the one who could be open and rational.

  Nikki pulled up in front of the Waltman Castle in all it’s grey brick and slate glory at around four o’clock. Standing at the front door, Nikki began to feel uneasy. She hadn’t thought this through enough, and the knot in the pit of her stomach told her it was a bad idea. She’d arrange a different meeting time with Marty in regard to the grapes. She started to turn and head back down the stairs, when the front door opened. There stood Pamela.

  “Hey, Nikki. Come on in. Marty said that you were popping by.”

  Nikki entered the house, and Pamela closed the door behind her.

  “Follow me. I’ll pour us a glass of wine.”

  “Sure. Sounds good.” Nikki followed Pamela with trepidation because she was pretty certain she was walking in the footsteps of a murderer. However, placating a killer, instead of letting on to what she knew, was probably the smartest move. She didn’t want Pamela to have a clue that she was on to her.

  “I’ll be right back with our wine. Make yourself comfortable.” Pamela motioned to the living room chair.

  Nikki took a seat and watched as the tall brunette sashayed into the kitchen. She was all glamoured out in black silk pants and a white silk wrap shirt. A bit chichi for the daytime, but whatever.

  It would be a few moments before Pamela returned and Nikki’s mind and stomach churned. She glanced up at that portrait of old Ben Waltman and shivered. Why was it that stupid portrait gave her the creeps, maybe even more so than Pamela? Damn, if it didn’t look like something out of an old movie where the eyes were real and watching every move she made. Nikki turned away from it and looked down the hall that led to the kitchen.

  What if Pamela did know that she was on to her? Where was Marty? Kristof? Sara? Nikki got the feeling that she was going to have to think fast on her feet. Pamela came back in and set down her wine in front of her. Nikki made sure that before she made her next strategic move that Pamela, too, sat down, took a sip of her wine and started to get comfortable.

  Nikki then asked, “Where’s Marty? He knew I was coming by. He had Deirdre leave me a message.”

  “I know. I was actually the one who relayed the message from Marty to Deirdre to phone you. He should be here any minute. He had a luncheon and meeting that ran late over at the winery. Kristof is with him, I believe.”

  “What about Sara? Doesn’t she usually join you for your evening glass of wine?”

  “She does. But she was feeling tired today, and I believe she is out in the guest house napping.”

  “Getting old doesn’t sound fun.” What else was she supposed to say to the killer in the room, one who she was alone with? “I’d really love some cheese and crackers with this. I don’t mean to be a pest. It’s just that I skipped lunch today.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Pamela stood and walked out of the room.

  Thankfully she didn’t take her wineglass with her. Maybe this could all work in Nikki’s favor, if Pamela was on to her, then it might be easier to catch her than she thought.

  When Pamela came back she set down a tray of cheese and crackers in front of Nikki. “I’m sorry, but could I use the bathroom?”

  Pamela gave her a quizzical look. “Of course. It’s down the hall and to your right.”

  “I remember. Thanks.” Nikki tried to nonchalantly head toward the bathroom, wineglass in hand. Once there she closed and locked the bathroom door behind her and took a breath. She then poured out half her glass of wine. After that she dug through her purse and found what she was looking for—a palette of MAC lipsticks and glosses that she’d recently purchased. One of the colors would work perfectly. She didn’t want to touch the rim of the glass with her lips. But she knew for this to work, she’d have to. She first found some wet wipes that she liked to carry with her, also in her purse. She wiped the rim of the glass and then dried it. She applied the lipstick to her own lips, made an imprint on the glass, and then removed the lipstick, that was way too dark for her, from her lips.

  A light breeze seemed to pass by her and she spun around. No one was there. This place was definitely high up on the freaky meter. She rubbed her arms to get rid of the goose bumps that had popped out on them. Cursing under her breath, she said, “If that’s you, Mr. Waltman, I know that you weren’t your granddaughter’s favorite relative, but I’m asking you, if I’m in the company of a murderess, could you please help me out? And, if you do, I promise, I’ll do what I can to help you go to the Light or at least convince your granddaughter that maybe you weren’t such a bad guy after all. Please.” Wow, did she feel stupid talking to someone who she knew wasn’t there, and even though she believed in ghosts, the way Sara Waltman referred to her grandfather as an old bastard, she had her doubts that he’d help her get out of this predicament. All this talk from the boys about Guru Sansibaba even had her telling some bastard ghost who probably didn’t exist that she’d help him into the Light. She was definitely losing it.

  There was not time to embark on spiritual enlightenment or to go insane at the moment, so she went forward with her plan to catch the killer and reapplied her own light colored lipstick, flushed the toilet for effect, then washed her hands. Before leaving the bathroom she pressed ‘record’ on her compact recorder. She’d slipped it into her purse before leaving her office. She didn’t know at the time if she could trust Kristof Waltman or anyone who lived in the castle, for that matter. It had been a thing for assurance and now she was pleased with herself for being so distrustful.

  Returning the running tape recorder back into her purse, and glass in hand, she crossed her fingers and hoped she was about to get more than what she’d initially come here for.

  Upon returning to the living room, she noticed that Pamela was staring out the large windows looking rather pensive. She turned back to Nikki and smiled. “I take it you’re here to see Marty about some of our wines?”

  Hmmm. Our wines? “I’m tying up some loose ends on a deal we’re making with the Waltmans to buy some cabarnet grapes from them. From the looks and sound of it, you’ll be getting involved in the wine business yourself. You seem to be fitting in nicely here.”

  Pamela sipped her wine. Nikki set her glass down on the side table next to her.

  “It’s a strange thing. My friend falls for Kristof, then is killed, and in the meantime I fall in love with Marty. It didn’t work out for Susan and I’m still very distressed over that, but it is working out better for me.”

  “That’s wonderful. Are wedding bells in the future here at the castle?”

  She laughed and flipped her long, slicked-back ponytail. “Not here. Not with the curse I think that’s on this place. I really do think that Ben Waltman haunts this castle, and if I have my way, Marty would tear it down and start fresh. I can’t ever shake the feeling that I’m being watched. No,
when Marty and I get married, we’ll probably go somewhere tropical and secluded. I’m not like Susan was. I don’t need an ostentatious wedding.”

  “I know what you mean.” Nikki took another look up at the portrait on the wall. She looked back at Pamela, who seemed to be studying her in a way that made her start fidgeting with her earring—a nervous tic she had when uncomfortable around others, and she was most uncomfortable around Pamela Leiland at that moment. “I take it that you’ve moved in here? Have you been able to retrieve all of your things in San Francisco? I know that you were sharing a townhome there with Susan.”

  Pamela smiled again at her, although this time there was a sardonic edge to the smile, and Nikki felt a sliver of fear snake down her back “Actually, I was in the city over the weekend and got the rest of my things.”

  Nikki swallowed hard. It was coming together now. “No kidding? I was, too. If I’d known, we could’ve gotten together.”

  Pamela nodded slowly, her eyes still trained on her, half closed into slits. “How do you like your wine?” Pamela tilted her head to one side and took a sip of her own glass of wine.

  “It’s very good. But I’m actually not feeling too well all of a sudden.” Nikki leaned her head back onto the sofa’s back.

  “That’s too bad. Maybe you should finish the wine.”

  “I feel kind of dizzy and sick to my stomach.”

  Pamela stood and walked over next to her and sat down, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Yes. I bet you do, and in a few moments your nose may start to bleed, you might even vomit, and then all of your organs will start to boil one by one, and there will be nothing that can save you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nikki moaned, and hoped her acting was better than when she’d been on her short-lived cop show.

  “You should’ve stuck with wines, my friend. I had no beef with you, and it was all working out perfect for me, until you went and started snooping around.”

  “What? I don’t understand,” Nikki groaned. She tried to sound weakened and desperate. “Help me.”

  “Can’t do that. I killed Susan the same way I’m killing you, with a little drug the EPA isn’t too fond of, but pesticide companies love it. Carmen and I are still pretty good friends. She called me last night to tell me that some woman had called and was doing a story on me and Antoine. I told her I hadn’t heard anything about it. She said that the woman’s name was Mickey Strands. Now, Nikki you’re a smart lady. C’mon, Mickey Strands?”

  Nikki knew she should’ve picked a better name.

  “But even if you’d told Carmen that your name was Veronica Higgins, I would’ve known it was you because you’re the only one who has been so damn nosey.”

  Nikki slid to the floor and rolled on her side.

  “Here I thought that maybe you had the brains to back off, after I warned you in the city to mind your own business. I really didn’t want to have to hurt you. I think you’re a nice woman.

  “The bad thing for me, when I found out what you’ve been up to, is that I had to make it so someone else could take the fall. The good thing for you, at least, is that you’ll get what you’ve been wanting all along.”

  “You’re insane,” Nikki whispered. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your friend Isabel will go free, because although I’ve had to work harder than a dresser backstage at a fashion show to pull this thing off, I’ve made it now where actually the perfect murderer is that old bag asleep in the guesthouse. I figure it won’t matter too much if they lock her away. She’s only got a couple of years left, if that. But you’ve met her. Her mind is sharp and she could’ve done this as easily as I have.”

  Nikki coughed and gagged, keeping her attacker still in belief mode that her plan was working out.

  “There’s not time for me to explain that now, because in about six minutes you should be dead, and since these are your last minutes I feel like I owe you an explanation. You’ve worked so hard to figure this mystery out. I’m surprised that the Sodium Fluoroacetate is working so quickly on you. I’d given most of it to Susan and only had a little of it left. I’d planned to get rid of it, but now I’m glad I didn’t. The sooner it works for you, the better it is for everyone. Get this whole thing over with.”

  “Please help me.” Nikki turned over and stared up at Pamela. She’d made herself drool, and rolled her eyes back into her head. Look out Nicole Kidman. Was there an Oscar in Nikki’s future?

  “Sorry. You know I can’t do that.” Pamela patted her shoulder as if they were friends. “I killed Susan because she took away what was precious to me. I was only returning the favor. You see, Susan was everything you thought she was, and what most people thought she was. She was greedy, manipulative and power hungry. She used people. For a while I thought she was onto something. I enjoyed our games of hooking rich men and taking them for all they were worth. Then I met Antoine, and it was supposed to be like the rest. We got married and Susan devised a plan to murder him once I was in the will. What Susan didn’t expect was for me to fall in love with him, his kids, everything about him. He was a good, loving, sweet man, and the money didn’t matter, because he wasn’t good with it, and he wasn’t worth all that much when he passed away.”

  Nikki moaned and grabbed her stomach.

  “I told Susan that there would be no murder. Nothing. That I loved Antoine and we were going to have a baby. But Susan wasn’t about to let that happen. She was jealous and she liked things the way they used to be, and she murdered him. I couldn’t prove it. She wouldn’t admit it to me, until one afternoon over lunch here in the valley. After I got her juiced up on a few bottles of champagne, I pointedly asked her if she had killed him. I told her I wouldn’t be upset but that I needed to know. I lied and told her that I was stupid to ever think I loved Antoine and was especially angry that he left me with nothing. I told her that I was grateful to her for taking me in after he died. What she didn’t know was I had gone to her after he died always hoping to find the truth.

  “That day she told me. She admitted to slipping amphetamines into his heart medication, which shot his blood pressure up and caused his heart to fail. She had caused his death, and I had my proof, so I could get my revenge. I knew I had a fall gal in Isabel. I figured Kristof and Susan were two peas in a pod, getting sex when and wherever, off of the pretty people that they could. I started following Kristof around, and I saw him several times with Isabel. I never told Susan what I knew. I only told her about Grapes and Isabel and how I thought they would be better caterers for her than Domaine Chandon—you know, new and up and coming, were the words I think I used, and it worked. Susan made Isabel an enemy on her own, because she loved to jerk the little people around, and it worked out perfectly for me. What was even better was I found out that Isabel had her own stint at partying, and knowing that Susan liked to do blow once in awhile, I put the poison in a vial. Remember, the bridesmaids wore long gloves that day. I gave Susan the vial on her way to the changing room and told her to have a wild time on her big day. Instead of cocaine, she snorted the poison through her nose. I whispered in one of the caterer’s ears that I’d heard someone had cocaine and that the bride was looking for it. I knew that gossip would travel through the kitchen and of course, would be exaggerated and changed to make the story sound better, by the time the police got a hold of it.”

  “That’s evil,” Nikki whispered and gagged in between the words.

  “Shh. Save your energy. I need to explain. Prior to that, I watched as the caterers drove in that day, and found the truck Isabel was driving. I took Isabel’s sweater from her and offered to hang it up. The day after the party, I drove down to the truck rental place. I had written down the license plate number off of the truck Isabel had driven the day of the wedding. I waited for a bit until the guys working the counter were busy and distracted. Then, I got into the back room, and located the key to that truck easily enough, because they were numbered. After that, I got into the truck, planted Isabella�
�s sweater and left.

  “And, you know, it would’ve all worked out fine. Lucky for me, I found out you were in the city. It was a coincidence, but one that worked in my favor. Marty had appointments out here through the weekend, so I figured it would be a good time to grab the rest of my things from the apartment. I didn’t bother telling Jennifer I was coming. I still have a key. When I went to retrieve my things from the condo, I saw you leaving. I hid and then I started following you. I tried to warn you, but you’re a stubborn woman.”

  Nikki sat up and widened her eyes. She got to her feet. “I know I am, my aunt is always telling me so. You killed your best friend, because she killed your husband, and you framed my friend because it was easy, and now you’re planning on framing Sara Waltman for my murder and Susan’s. I have to ask, or should I suppose you were also the one to follow Susan and Blake and took those X-rated pictures you had sent to Sara Waltman. There is no private investigative team by the name of Lawson & Rennert. What you don’t know is that I signed for those photos from the FedEx guy the day of the wedding. I assume you were hoping that if your frame-up of Isabel didn’t work, then you could redirect the investigation to make it look as if Sara discovered Susan’s seedier side and did away with her.”