A Toast to Murder

by Michele Scott

  Derek didn’t respond right away, and Nikki was preparing herself for an onslaught of anger and frustration. To her surprise, though, he took her hand and said, “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to sound like I did. Sometimes I think I must be out of my mind to love you, because you are the most stubborn woman I have ever known. But damn it, Nancy Drew, I am hooked. And you’re right. About everything. I’m in. Where do we start?”

  Eighteen

  BEFORE they could jump into figuring out the mystery behind all that had happened in the past couple of days at the vineyard, Nikki and Derek spotted Marco’s Prius coming up the road. After adding Violet to their family, Simon and Marco had decided that going green was the responsible parental thing to do. It helped that the two of them had studied with Alan Sansi (also known as the popular Guru Sansibaba). Alan had become a good friend of Nikki and Derek’s as well, and his latest book, On Parenting Responsibly in an Age of Irresponsibility had hit the bestseller list and Alan had wound up on Oprah.

  “Looks like our patient has arrived,” Derek said. “I think we should go and see if they need some help.”

  “I agree, but there is a problem,” Nikki replied.

  “What’s that?”

  “Patrice and her new husband.” In all of the commotion and confusion, Nikki hadn’t had a chance to update Derek on his stepmother’s status on the vineyard and that she was still in the mansion on the hill. She was sure that Marco was sooner rather than later going to come unglued about it, as Simon had indicated to her at the rehearsal. “We need to do something about getting her out of here.”

  Derek nodded. “Let me handle it.”

  Nikki held up her hands. “I have no problem with that.”

  They drove up the hill to the main house. Simon was being helped out of the car by Marco. Violet was in the back in her car seat, giggling her precious two-year-old giggle. Nikki couldn’t help but smile. “Hey,” she said. “Can we help?”

  Marco glanced over. “Want to get the baby?” he asked.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice,” she said but first gave Simon a kiss on the cheek. “How’s it going?”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “How do you think it’s going, sister? Some maniac tried to take my arm off. I’ll never look good in a tank top again. And what’s going to happen to this body? I have to take time off from my workout. My tummy is going to go to pot.”

  “I think that’s probably the last thing you should worry your mind over, mi amor,” Marco said. “You are gorgeous no matter what.”

  “He’s right,” Nikki said.

  “Probably,” Simon replied.

  Derek opened up Violet’s door and unfastened her car seat. He winked at Nikki. “Beat you to it.” He kissed Violet and tickled her. More laughter.

  “What can we do for you, Si?” Nikki asked.

  He looked at her with sad puppy dog eyes. “Oh, nothing, doll. You’ve already been through so much. Really, you don’t need to bother.”

  “What do you need?” she insisted.

  He sighed heavily. “Okay, then, if you’re going to badger me, I need all organic fruits and veggies. We’re going to need sushi grade ahi for this evening. You do such a good job with that black sesame seed recipe. You know the one where you sear the fish and then drizzle that poblano sauce over it.”

  Nikki smiled. “Excuse me, but I didn’t know that I would be fixing dinner.”

  Simon pouted.

  “Of course I’ll fix you dinner. On one condition. You have to come down to the ranch house. I won’t make dinner for Patrice.”

  “Did I hear someone call my name?” Patrice was walking toward them, flanked by a golden-tanned, muscle man with eyes the color of a Mediterranean sea. His facial features were large—almost overexaggerated. He had a crop of thick curly dark hair. He wasn’t attractive except that his eyes were startling—the color was so intense and beautiful that it was hard not to stare. Plus, his muscles were obviously steroid grade. He was quite a sight.

  “Hello, mother,” Simon said as she ran up and air kissed each side of his cheek.

  “Oh, darling. Adonis and I have been so worried about you.”

  Adonis. Of course. Perfect. And Greek. The notes.

  “If you were so worried, Mother Dear, then why didn’t you come to the hospital?” Simon asked.

  Good. Maybe the fact that his mother didn’t take any time out of her evening last night to go and see her only son who had been shot in the shoulder would be enough to convince him to help chase her off the Malveaux property. Violet reached out for her grandmother from Derek’s arms.

  “Sweet babe, come to Pit Pat.” She glanced at everyone. “It sounds so much better than grandma.”

  Nikki was thinking she might just vomit right there on the spot.

  Derek held tighter onto Violet. “I’ll take her into the house, and then you and I need to discuss a few things, Patrice.”

  Patrice took a step back and her eyes widened. Adonis wrapped a massive arm around her shoulder. “Such a warm welcome from my darling stepson,” Patrice trilled.

  Derek didn’t acknowledge the remark but started toward the front door of the mansion. Marco opened the trunk of the car and took out Simon’s bag. Nikki took Simon’s uninjured arm and walked with him into the house. He leaned into her and whispered, “I have a feeling this is going to be better than an episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey.”

  “You could be right,” Nikki replied.

  Simon and Marco had done some updating to the mansion, which for years had remained somewhere between 1982 and 1987 in unappealing shades of green and burgundy. Simon had sunk some money into new hardwood floors, and the color scheme had been changed to earth tones and golds—a vision to reflect the vines that grew outside. The kitchen still needed some serious updating, but Nikki had the feeling that Marco and Simon had rested in a holding pattern with the assumption that eventually Mommy Dearest would return and want her abode back. Hopefully, Derek would be able to talk some sense into the old crow.

  “Where would you like to rest, mi amor?” Marco asked.

  “In the sunroom sounds nice. Can I get a glass of iced tea as well? And maybe some of those little butter cookies we have in the cookie jar?”

  “Of course.”

  Derek handed Violet to Nikki. “Why don’t you take the baby and Si into the garden room? I need to speak with Patrice alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Patrice remarked.

  “It is. And when I say alone, I mean alone.” He eyed Adonis.

  Adonis shrugged. “You will be fine, no? I will go in the garden room and make discussion with your son and . . .” he said with a Greek accent.

  “Nikki,” Nikki said. “Really that’s okay. I think Simon needs his rest.”

  “But I would like to get to know you better. You are all my family now, too. I have a big family at home, and I miss family.”

  “Trust me, buddy, this is not anything like your family at home, I’m pretty sure.” Nikki studied him for a moment and in a strange way felt sorry for the big lug. What kind of spell had Patrice put on him? Likely the money spell.

  “Be nice,” Simon said.

  “Okay. Only for you, and only because you’re hurt.”

  Nikki carried Violet as she followed Simon into the garden room. Adonis walked in behind them. Marco went to make a pitcher of iced tea, and Derek and Patrice went off into the living room to hopefully have a civilized discussion and come up with the only result that would benefit everyone—her leaving the vineyard.

  Simon stretched out on the floral yellow garden sofa, and Violet immediately climbed out of Nikki’s arms and went straight for her basket of toys in the corner of the room. Nikki and Adonis sat opposite one another in white wicker chairs.

  She crossed her legs and clasped her hands around her knees. Smiling at Adonis, she figured small talk was the way to go. “So, Adonis, right?” He nodded. “How did you meet Patrice?”

&n
bsp; His goofy smile spread across his face. “Amazing. I was in class and this beautiful woman comes in and takes a seat next to mine. I was so in luck. It was love at first sight.”

  “Really? That’s amazing. A class, huh? What kind of class? Where was this?”

  “In Greece, of course. We were learning of Greek mythology and the gods of fate.”

  Nineteen

  “YOU asked me where we start with this thing,” Nikki said as she and Derek arrived home.

  Derek looked at her confused.

  “With the gunshot and Kenny.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m a little distracted. My conversation didn’t go as planned with Patrice.”

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound too good.”

  “No. Not really. I’m going to have to call our attorneys and see what we can do.”

  “Well, we certainly can’t all live as one big happy family. God knows we aren’t the Brady Bunch.”

  “I know that,” he said sounding irritated. “But it might be more difficult than I thought.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Okay,” Nikki replied.

  Derek walked in and plopped down on the sofa. A heavy sigh left his lips. He patted the sofa. “Come over here.”

  Nikki sat down next to him. He put his arm around her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “This all really sucks, doesn’t it,” she said.

  “It sure does. But I think you’re right. We need to take some action. I need to call the attorneys and get Patrice out of here. And we do need to figure out who has been sending those notes, taking a shot at Simon, and who killed Kenny.”

  “We do. Jonah just left me a message about stopping by here. He was hoping to catch us in the next hour. I sent him a text to let him know we would be around. I do need to go into town though and pick up Simon’s groceries and get dinner prepped for tonight. I told him and Marco to come down around seven.”

  “I can run into town if you’d like,” Derek said.

  “No. I’ve got it. I know everything that we need.”

  “I don’t think I want you going alone, babe. Not with what we know about this case. Someone seems to have a vendetta and you’re on the list of this . . . what did he sign his name with?”

  “Moros Apate Thanatos.”

  “Weird.”

  “It is weird. You’re assuming that whoever this psycho is, is a man,” Nikki said.

  “I suppose I am. The guy shot from the rectory of the church. Made his way out of the church without anyone getting near him. I’m inclined to think we’re dealing with a man here. To hit the cellist hard enough on the head and sprint out of here, the person had to be fairly strong and fast.”

  Nikki nodded. “Man? Maybe, maybe not. There are plenty of strong and fast women around. But here is something interesting. Adonis and your step-monster met at a Greek mythology class. And here’s something you may not have noticed about Patrice that I have.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The woman looks like she’s been to boot camp. Sure, she’s what, seventy? But have you gotten a good look at that bod? She’s been working out.”

  Derek shook his head. “Oh, come on now. You don’t really think that Patrice is involved in all of this? Besides she didn’t even know Kenny.”

  “Good point, but maybe we are dealing with two separate issues here. Or maybe Patrice and Adonis are working together and Kenny’s murder—and my gut tells me it was murder—was committed because they wanted to throw the police off. Because, let’s face it, the tie-in makes no sense.” Nikki reached down and scratched behind Ollie’s ears as he plopped down on the floor next to her feet.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Patrice doesn’t like you. That’s no secret. It’s no secret that I have no need for her either, but as far as a motive? I don’t know.”

  “I’m a threat, Derek. I always have been. I’m about to be your wife, and she sees me as a threat. I’m also the reason her daughter and son are behind bars. If I’d never come here then those two may have been able to get their way, and Patrice would be running this winery. Tell me that’s not a motive for murder.”

  “You don’t think that Meredith could have been in communication with Patrice, do you?” Derek asked, referring to his ex-wife. An ex-wife who no one, not even Simon, had known was related to Patrice. Patrice had put Meredith and her brother up for adoption, and it was years later that Patrice brought them back into her life with some wild scheme to take over the Malveaux winery and vineyard. The problem was that Meredith and her brother Cal had taken it a step too far, and Meredith had become romantically involved with the Malveaux’s winemaker at the time, who eventually called it off with her. Meredith had killed him, and her brother had helped her cover it up. They then took their plans even further by plotting to kill Derek. However, by that point, Nikki had complicated things by coming into the picture. “Maybe Meredith is talking to Patrice. I guess it’s an angle we can’t ignore,” Derek continued, sensing Nikki’s glare.

  “I think one of the first things we need to do is get on the Internet and find out as much as we can about the gods of fate in Greek mythology and all about the ones that this person or persons signs his or her name with, Moros Apate Thanatos. I also think we have to look at all of the other possibilities, including learning a little bit more about your friends and their recent histories.” Derek raised his eyebrows. Nikki continued, “I told you that you weren’t going to like some of this. But the facts are the facts. All of your pals here knew Kenny, and I have a feeling not everyone cared too much for him. Why any of them would want me dead, I’m not too sure. We know why Patrice might want me six feet under, but your college friends? That is a mystery. People change sometimes, Derek. Who knows why they do what they do. But the signature alone, the messages we’ve been getting, speaks of someone who has been methodically planning this out for some time. And not only that, it speaks of someone who is far more dangerous than just your average killer.”

  Derek laughed.

  “What’s funny?” she asked.

  “Aren’t all killers dangerous?” he asked, still laughing. “I know this isn’t a joking matter, but the way that came out . . . I’m sorry, hon.”

  She socked him lightly on his shoulder. “I know what you mean and, yes, of course all killers are dangerous. However, most killers tend to kill someone close to them due to a crime of passion, an argument that makes them snap, that kind of thing.”

  “Okay. I think I’m seeing your point. Whoever is behind this, assuming it’s one person, then they’ve planned it out. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, and it sounds like a psychopath.”

  “Ooh, now you’re cooking, and I am finding it very, very sexy.”

  “Really?” he said.

  “Uh-huh. Really.”

  He looked at his watch. “What time did you say Jonah would be by?”

  “In about thirty minutes. Why?” she asked.

  “I was thinking that this Internet stuff could wait until after dinner tonight. It sounds like it could really take us some time.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? But I’m still not finished filling you in on my plan,” she said.

  “Can’t your plan wait? You can fill me in when we go into town together.”

  “I told you that I’d be fine alone.”

  “This is supposed to be our honeymoon, you know. And if we’re going to puzzle this mystery out together, then we should probably be spending quite a bit of time together.”

  “Good point.”

  “In the meantime, though,” he said, “while we’re waiting for Jonah, I could stand to have my batteries recharged. This investigating stuff sounds exhausting.”

  She shook her head. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, I think you know.”

  The doorbell rang before Nikki could take Derek up on his offer. “Looks like Jonah is early.”

  “Damn detective has the worst timin
g.”

  Nikki opened the door. Ollie barked and growled until he realized it was Jonah, who breezed in and sat down across from Derek. Nikki walked back into the family room. Jonah was not one for formalities.

  “Well, kids, I can tell you for certain that your friend Kenny was murdered. Coroner says he was hit with a blunt object and then dragged into the wine tank.”

  Derek shook his head. “But if someone dragged him into the wine tank, they would have had to put on the necessary mask in order not to die themselves.”

  “Where do you keep the masks?”

  “Small office inside the warehouse next to the tanks,” Derek said.

  “Who knows about them?”

  “Pretty much anyone who has taken a tour of the Malveaux winery and estate. It’s part of the tour when we explain safety measures and how the winery runs.”

  “Right, and you would say that’s what? A hundred thousand people or so a year?” Jonah asked with a sarcastic chuckle.