by Penny Warner
Praise for Penny Warner’s
Party-Planning Mysteries
How to Party with a Killer Vampire
“Penny Warner’s How to Party with a Killer Vampire is a fun, entertaining, and amusing read. The characters are engaging and quirky, and the mystery is suspenseful and gripping. There’s plenty of humor infused into the whodunit and the charismatic cast of secondary characters adds comedic relief. If you enjoy cozy mysteries, the Party-Planning Mystery series is a series you won’t want to miss.”
—TwoLips Reviews
“A fun read starring amateur sleuth Presley Parker. Presley is an event planner who throws a ‘wrap party’ for a movie producer to celebrate his latest horror film, Revenge of the Killer Vampires. The perfect venue to hold this event? A cemetery, of course! And it wouldn’t be the perfect party without a fresh corpse. The writing is well-done and the story reaches a satisfying ending. Presley is a smart, self-reliant amateur sleuth.”
—Dead Herring
How to Survive a Killer Séance
“Event planner Presley Parker is throwing a party at the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, and you just know all those corridors and secret rooms will be the perfect setting for a murder. Downright fun.”
—Contra Costa Times
“Presley Parker is a delightful event host, and this entertaining mystery captures the ins and outs of planning a séance. Delightfully entertaining.”
—Mysterious Reviews
“Unforgettable characters, information, and humor all in one divine package. Treat yourself to this one as soon as possible.”
—Fresh Fiction
“[A]n entertaining read, full of unique characters and breezy prose. The setting is unique, the structure is smart, and the pacing is quick. Presley otherwise makes for a strong, smart, funny protagonist for whom readers will want to root.”
—The Season for Romance
“Presley is a creative, energetic young woman with a wry sense of humor.”
—The Mystery Reader
How to Crash a Killer Bash
“If you’re looking for a lighthearted, fast-moving story with enough polish and pizzazz to keep your interest popping to the very last page, look no further than this party-hearty book.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Exactly what a modern cozy should be: light and playful, a little romance mixed with a little mystery, and thoroughly enjoyable start to finish.”
—Mysterious Reviews
“The mystery is well plotted [and] there are plenty of clues and plenty of suspects, letting readers guess along with Presley.”
—The Mystery Reader
“I highly recommend this book to all mystery readers, cozy or not. This is a party that you don’t want to miss.”
—Once Upon a Romance Reviews
“With plenty of action on her investigation and several poignant moments, readers will enjoy the perils of Presley Parker.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“The second Party-Planner mystery is a delightful whodunit due to a strong lead and the eccentric cast who bring a flavor of San Francisco to life.”
—The Best Reviews
“Plenty of motives and suspects a cast of lively characters.”
—Gumshoe
How to Host a Killer Party
“Penny Warner’s scintillating How to Host a Killer Party introduces an appealing heroine whose event skills include utilizing party favors in self-defense in a fun, fast-paced new series guaranteed to please.”
—Carolyn Hart, Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity
award–winning author of Death Comes Silently
“A party you don’t want to miss.”
—Denise Swanson, national bestselling author of
Little Shop of Homicide
“Penny Warner dishes up a rare treat, sparkling with wicked and witty San Francisco characters, plus some real tips on hosting a killer party.”
—Rhys Bowen, award-winning author of the Royal Spyness
and Molly Murphy mysteries
“There’s a cozy little party going on between these covers.”
—Elaine Viets, author of the Dead End Job mysteries
“Fast, fun, and fizzy as a champagne cocktail! The winning and witty Presley Parker can plan a perfect party—but after her A-list event becomes an invitation to murder, her next plan must be to save her own life.”
—Hank Phillippi Ryan, Agatha Award–winning
author of Drive Time
“The book dishes up a banquet of mayhem.”
—Oakland Tribune (CA)
“With a promising progression of peculiar plots, and a plethora of party-planning pointers, How to Host a Killer Party looks to be a pleasant prospect for cozy mystery lovers.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Warner keeps the reader guessing.”
—Gumshoe
“Delightful, filled with suspense, mystery, and romance.”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
“Grab this book.…It will leave you in stitches.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Frantic pace, interesting characters.”
—Publishers Weekly
The Party-Planning Mystery Series
How to Host a Killer Party
How to Crash a Killer Bash
How to Survive a Killer Séance
How to Party with a Killer Vampire
HOW TO DINE ON
Killer Wine
A Party-Planning Mystery
PENNY WARNER
AN OBSIDIAN MYSTERY
OBSIDIAN
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, July 2012
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN: 978-1-101-58716-4
Copyright © Penny Warner, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Printed in the United States of America
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual pe
rsons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
To my mother, who taught me how to write. To my kids, who taught me how to party. To my husband, who taught me everything else.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to everyone who helped with this fun series—Colleen Casey, Janet Finsilver, Staci McLaughlin, Mike Melvin, Rebecca Melvin, Ann Parker, Connie Pike, Carole Price, Vicki Stadelhofer, Matt Warner, Susan Warner, Tom Warner. And to my wonderful agents, Andrea Hurst and Amberly Finarelli, and my astute editor, Sandy Harding. Thanks so much!
Here’s to the corkscrew—a useful key to unlock the storehouse of wit, the treasury of laughter, the front door of fellowship, and the gate of pleasant folly.
—W. E. P. French
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Wine- and Cheese-Tasting Party
Chapter 1
PARTY-PLANNING TIP #1
When hosting a wine-tasting party, remind guests to use all five senses—eyes for clarity and color, nose for intensity of bouquet, palate for taste, tongue for texture, and ears for the sound of “Mmmmm…”
“I’ll drink to that!” my office mate on Treasure Island, Delicia Jackson, said after my work-for-hire chef Rocco Ghirenghelli set down a freshly decanted bottle of the Purple Grape Winery’s two-year-old merlot.
“You’ll drink to what?” I asked her as I watched Rocco pour the maroon liquid into a glass etched with the words “California Culinary College.” The wine licked the inside of the glass as it spiraled like a whirlpool to the bottom.
“Ignore her, Presley,” Rocco said, raising an eyebrow at Dee. “She’ll drink to anything.”
Delicia stuck her tongue out at him. That was the kind of relationship my two event-planning assistants shared.
Rocco, rarely out of his chef whites, was dressed in khaki slacks and a brown button-down shirt. He handed the glass to me. “Don’t chug it like you usually do.”
“I don’t chug my wine!” I said. “I’m just not pretentious, like some of those wine snobs.”
“There’s a big difference between gulping and tasting,” Rocco said. “I want you to really taste this wine. You have to know these things when you host that upcoming winery event.”
“I know,” I said defensively. As I reached for the glass, I had a sudden flashback to my college days, those days of wine and chugging. Admittedly I could use a few pointers if I wanted to carry off this prestigious party Rocco had snagged for me. I lifted the glass by the stem, like I’d been taught by the Wine Goddess cable TV show, then swirled the contents as if I knew what I was doing. Bringing it to my lips, I inhaled the “bouquet.”
It smelled like grape juice. Really good grape juice.
“Okay, now savor it as you take it in,” Rocco said, as Dee looked on, frowning.
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” I grinned mischievously. Rocco blushed the color of the red wine. Even his balding pate turned rosy.
I took a sip, swishing the liquid over my tongue and palate.
Dee giggled. “You look like a fish.”
“Don’t swish it,” Rocco demanded. “It’s not mouthwash. Taste it.”
I swallowed.
“So. What did it taste like?” Rocco asked, both eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“Uh…kinda fruity, kinda spicy. A bit of a woody aftertaste.” I’d learned some of the lingo from the TV show.
“Excellent! You’ve got a good palate, in spite of your tendency to guzzle wine like it was tap water. All right, now hold your glass up to the light. What color do you see?”
I studied it a moment. “Dark maroon.”
Rocco nodded. “Good. Now inhale it and tell me about the aroma.”
I took a quick whiff, then a deeper inhale. “Definitely fruity. Like grapes.”
Rocco sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. Apparently “fruity” and “grapes” weren’t the descriptive words he was looking for. “Okay, this time, take a sip and let it rest in your mouth for a few seconds. Notice if it’s tart or sweet.”
I took a second mini-mouthful, let it “play” over my palate, and said, “Both.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dee pulling the bottle of wine toward her.
“Is it rich or lean?” Rocco asked. “Velvety or smooth? Silky or sticky?”
I set the glass down, causing it to clink against the desktop. “I don’t know, Rocco. It tastes like wine. Red wine. How am I supposed to enjoy it if I have to think about it?”
Rocco rolled his eyes, exasperated with his wine-disabled student.
Behind his back, Dee was about to pour wine into her empty coffee cup.
He snatched the bottle from her hand. “That’s a sixty-dollar bottle of wine!”
“Come on!” Delicia said, holding her cup out like a street beggar. “Pour a couple of dollars’ worth in here. I want to get my drink on.”
Rocco ignored her. To me he said, “Well? Do you want this job or don’t you?”
“Of course I want it! A wine-tasting event in Napa with a food pairing from the California Culinary College? Anyone would kill to do an event like that. I promise I’ll study up on wines before the event.”
Rocco’s face softened. He looked somewhat satisfied, until he no doubt realized that my definition of “studying wine” was essentially the same as “drinking wine.” “All right, I’ll let my sister Gina know. I’ve really talked you up, so don’t let me down.”
“I won’t, Rocco. I swear. Thank you. I owe you.”
With the wine bottle in hand, Rocco walked out of the office, leaving me to drool over the plum job he’d risked his palate and reputation for. His sister Gina was an instructor at the CCC in Napa and had been asked to cater some amuse-bouches—from her best-selling cookbook of the same name at a wine-tasting party. Her longtime friends Rob and Marie Christopher were hosting the event at their up-and-coming boutique winery, the Purple Grape, to announce their newest merlot. They were hoping to make a splash with this inexpensive but hearty wine and thought presenting it at a special tasting would be the best way to launch it.
And I was the lucky party planner who got to put it all together.
Not only was I looking forward to planning the event; I was also excited about spending a few extra days in the world-famous California wine country. I planned to indulge in a spa treatment, maybe take a balloon ride, and hopefully enjoy some personal time with my boyfriend, Brad Matthews—if he could get the time off. As a crime scene cleaner, he never knew when he’d be called to clean up after a messy homicide, suicide, or accidental demise. Unlike a party, death had a way of arriving unplanned.
I’d also decided to take my mother along. She could always use a getaway from her care facility and had mentioned that she had an “old paramour” who lived in the Napa area. I just hoped her early-ons
et Alzheimer’s wasn’t playing tricks with her mind again.
“So, Dee,” I said to my friend, who was still holding an empty coffee cup. Even pouting, she looked adorable in a ruffly white blouse, short black skirt, and red peep-toe platform heels that raised her from a short five feet to a towering five-three. “How’d you like to play the wine goddess at the party, like that girl on TV?”
She sat up, grinning. “Sweet! I’ll wear a big flowered skirt and puffy peasant top and put on a crown made from grapes and—”
I nodded as she continued the seemingly endless description of her planned costume. It sounded like something out of that old I Love Lucy episode where Lucy stomped grapes for a laugh. My mind wandered further as I thought about how I might use my other part-time crew members for the wine-tasting event. Gamer/computer whiz Duncan Grant could DJ and help out with the entertainment I’d planned, which included grape stomping, barrel rolling, and of course wine-tasting contests. Berkeley Wong, rising indie filmmaker, would videotape the event for my Web site. And I could always use Treasure Island, or TI as we liked to say, security guard Raj Reddy. You never knew when you might be dealing with intoxicated guests who became obnoxious, especially at an event like this.
As for Brad, I’d bring him along for personal use.
The six of us, all with offices on TI, had become friends over the past year. Everyone seemed to enjoy helping out at my bigger events—but then, who wouldn’t want to go to a cool party and get paid? Amazingly, after several recent headlining functions, my Killer Parties event-planning business was growing like a well-tended grapevine. Good thing, since the rent was rising on my office space, my condo, and my mother’s care facility.
When Delicia’s motor finally ran down, I asked her to book a few rooms for the crew at a bed-and-breakfast near the Purple Grape.
“Seriously?” she asked, lighting up again. “You’re comping our weekend?”
“Of course,” I said, feeling magnanimous. “That’s one of the perks you get when you work for an event planner like me. Besides, the Christophers have offered my mother and me a room at their ‘villa,’ but I’d like to find a place nearby for you, Duncan, Berk, and Raj.”
