“No kidding? But why? Why don’t you live in the mansion I saw up on the hill as we drove in?”
“You mean the insane asylum?”
He said it so seriously that for a second Nikki wasn’t sure if he were joking or not. “What’s behind that statement?”
“Trust me, you’ll see. I’m hosting a charity event for the Leukemia Foundation tomorrow night. You’ll get to meet the inmates who live in the mansion, otherwise the people who I loosely refer to as my family. They’re a special bunch.” His reply heavily laden with sarcasm was not lost on Nikki. “There’s my half brother, Simon, my stepmother, Patrice, and my ex-wife, Meredith. Oh, did I forget Simon’s partner, Marco? He’s at least got a sense of humor.”
“You should have told me about the party. I’m sure your family isn’t that bad, but it’s bad for me that I don’t have anything dressy to wear.”
“As long as you have something black, you’ll fit right in.”
She did have that. The every-woman’s requisite simple black dress was packed away, and though it was nothing to be worn to a charity event, it would have to do.
“Why don’t you get settled in, and I’ll be back by in half an hour. I need to make sure everything is on schedule for tomorrow. I’d like to show you around the place and have you meet my winemaker, Gabriel Asanti. He’s amazing. What he can do with a handful of grapes is nothing short of a miracle. I assure you, your taste buds will never be the same.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Nikki locked the door behind Derek after he left, and then laughed out loud for the ridiculous act. What could happen in a place like this?
She started to unpack her suitcase in the bedroom when, out of the corner of one eye she caught something moving outside by the pond. She went to the doors and saw a rustling in the bushes across the way, but then it stopped, as if someone were there and knew they’d been spotted. Nikki locked the French doors, and once again laughed at herself. “My overactive imagination. Maybe I should be writing screenplays instead of trying to star in them.” She looked at herself in the mirror over the dresser, and ran her fingertips over the tiny fine lines on either side of her eyes. “Yuck.”
She went back to unpacking. Once again she noticed movement from outside, but all she saw was the pair of ducks. “Ducks, dingbat. That’s all it is. Ducks.” She went to the French doors and peered out. The ducks flew off, leaving ripples in their wake on the pond’s surface. She started to turn back around, and there it was again. This time it was unmistakable; she saw a flash of green, and it wasn’t leaves on a bush. This was green fabric, like someone’s shirt.
She opened the door, stepping out into the cool air. A frenzy of goose bumps ran down her arms, and she rubbed her hands briskly over them. She sang out, “Hello. Anyone there?” Curious by nature, she took a step outside and called out again, to no avail. “I know I saw someone,” she muttered under her breath. Screw it. Nikki wasn’t a fraidy cat. Besides, she did Tae Bo, and if Billy Blanks had taught her anything, he’d taught her how to throw one damned good roundhouse kick.
She walked the hundred or so yards around the pond where she knew someone had been only moments before. The brush grew dense and grabbed at the skin on her bare arms, scratching her. A mosquito landed on her, biting her before heading off to its next victim. She slapped her neck, but missed. “Ouch.” She knew she should turn around and go back to the guest house. But she’d grown up reading Nancy Drew books, and she’d be damned if she’d turn back now. Nancy wouldn’t walk away. She’d pursue.
Her shoe got bogged down in some mud, and she had to yank to pull her foot out, losing her shoe in the greenish muck. “Damn!” Her foot covered in mud, her arms scratched up, and mosquito bites rising along her neck, she was foolishly looking for some phantom juvenile delinquent who got his cojones off spying on unsuspecting women. Could it get any worse? Only if Derek found her like this.
But even worse than that was when her bare foot brushed against something that didn’t feel like a prickly bush. It tickled, but not in the way a bush would. She looked down and saw a hand. She screamed as her eyes followed the hand deeper into the bushes. There was the body of a man with thick grape vines pulled tautly around his neck, his brown eyes bulging out of his purplish face. His dark, longish hair covered in mud. He wore a green shirt, and across the right side of his chest on the shirt was his name—Gabriel Asanti. With a flash of recognition, Nikki knew she’d just met the winemaker.
Chapter 4
“I am so sorry,” Derek murmured, taking off his navy blue knit sweater and pulling it over Nikki, who hadn’t realized until she felt its warmth that she was trembling. His Rhodesian Ridgeback, named Oliver, lounged in between the two wicker chairs, where they were seated on Derek’s porch. Every once in awhile, the dog lifted his head to watch the commotion going on in the distance across the pond.
“If you’d like, I can call my pilot and have you flown home.”
“Afraid you can’t do that,” a young woman police officer said, approaching them. Oliver barked as she walked forward.
Derek stretched his arm over the chair and stroked his dog’s head. “It’s okay.” The dog quieted down, and the officer climbed the steps. “Nikki, Jeanine Wiley. Or Officer Wiley.”
Officer Wiley stretched out her hand to shake Nikki’s, and they greeted each other. “Miss Sands has to stay until the chief says that she can leave. She’s a critical part of this investigation.” The freckle-faced redhead pulled out a pocket-sized notepad. “Mr. Malveaux, I hate to seem rude, but I need to ask Miss Sands a few more questions, and it’s important we have some privacy.”
Derek looked questioningly at Nikki.
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I planned on staying anyway. We still have a job interview.”
He gave her a warm smile. “Can I get you anything? A cup of tea, coffee, wine?”
“Tea would be nice.”
“Officer Wiley?”
The policewoman, whose face was already ruddy, turned bright red. Such a deliciously good-looking man had obviously never asked her anything so kind. “No. No, thank you.”
Derek went back into the house, Oliver in tow, while Officer Wiley opened up the notepad and took a pen from her shirt pocket. “I know you went over this before with one of the other officers, but, now that you’ve had some time to relax a little and think about it, perhaps other details have come to mind.”
Nikki shook her head and told Officer Wiley the same story she’d explained when the police first arrived. She looked past Officer Wiley’s shoulder and saw Gabriel’s body being wheeled into the back of the coroner’s van.
“You didn’t know the victim?”
“No. As I’ve already explained, I arrived this morning.”
“What compelled you, if you were frightened by seeing something move in the bushes, to take a walk to check out what it might have been?”
Nikki eyed the young cop. Was she insinuating something, or was Nikki simply being paranoid because she’d been the one to find the body? She sighed, worn out from the freakish experience.
“Here’s the deal. I wasn’t exactly scared. It bugged me, yes, when I saw the bushes move, and I had a creepy feeling that maybe someone was watching me. The last thing on my mind was that someone might actually be killing someone else.”
“Uh-huh.” The officer jotted something down.
Nikki got the distinct feeling that the officer was keeping something from her, but that was what the police were supposed to do—keep the details of a murder investigation under wraps. Nikki knew that much from her short-lived TV show.
“Can I ask you something?” Officer Wiley asked.
Nikki nodded.
She hesitated and glanced around. “Um, are you by any chance the Nikki Sands, the one who did that show about Detective Sydney Martini?”
Nikki shrunk down in the wicker chair and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. She gave a slight nod.
Officer Wiley
lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “I loved that show. I was so mad when they took it off the air. I mean, there were only what, five episodes?”
“Four.”
“It was so good. You were awesome.”
Great. Nikki had actually come across one of her ten fans, and she had to be a policewoman investigating this murder.
“I loved the way you kicked butt on the bad guys. You can throw some great kicks.”
“Tae Bo. Get the advanced tapes. Look, you know that character I played wasn’t really me. Shouldn’t we finish here?”
“Right. Sorry, I’m just really excited to meet you,” she gushed.
“Thanks, Officer Wiley.”
“Call me Jeanine, except you know . . .” She glanced around. “Except when one of the other officers is present. One other thing, would you mind giving me an autograph?”
Derek walked out in time to witness this, and handed Nikki her tea. “It’s kind of hot, so be careful. Are we about done here, Jeanine?” he asked.
A blushing Jeanine Wiley nodded and stood up to go. “Thanks for your cooperation. As I said before, we need you to hang around for a bit.”
“No problem,” Nikki replied. “Am I a suspect?”
“Miss Sands, we have to look at all the angles.”
Nikki and Derek watched as the policewoman descended the porch steps. Nikki put down the cup of tea that had been warming her hands nicely. “Did you say you had wine?”
Derek laughed. “The tea not strong enough for you?”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s very good, but after this afternoon, and your Napa Valley police force interrogation, I think I’d like something a bit stronger.”
“Can’t blame you. Why don’t you follow me in and warm yourself by the fire.”
That did sound very inviting. His place was as cozy as her guest cottage, but in a very masculine way. The furniture was done in distressed leathers and warm woods, the walls were painted a golden tone, and a Navajo rug blanketed the hardwood floor in front of the fire. Nikki fell into an oversized chaise. Oliver plunked himself in front of the fireplace and wagged his tail at her. Derek handed her an aperitif glass. She looked at the tawny colored contents and couldn’t help but ask, “Port?”
“I’m going against the grain here. Port, as you know, is usually an after-dinner dessert drink, but in this case, something with a higher alcohol content might do you some good.”
“Hmmm.” She took a sip. The slight sweetness of the port added to the warmth it sent down into her stomach.
“I am a Napa Valley vineyard owner, and for me to serve you something from Portugal is not exactly protocol.”
“It’s good. You can’t tell me that all you drink is California wines.”
“Shhh. No, of course not. It’d be ridiculous of me to do that. There’s so much to experience in wines. Gabriel understood that.” Derek walked over to a corkboard in the kitchen and pulled a photograph from it. He came back over to Nikki and handed it to her.
“You and Gabriel?” There was Derek, his arm around the other man in a brotherly fashion, along with a slew of other folks. A golden-haired, attractive woman was on the other side of Gabriel. They were all covered in dirt, everyone holding a glass of wine up into the air. Gabriel had a brooding, Italian look about him, with hooded dark eyes and a gaunt face, his nose pronounced and very Roman. He was thin, but manly looking. His smile appeared honest and bright.
“At last year’s crop planting.”
“Is the woman his girlfriend? They look pretty cozy,” Nikki remarked, noticing that the woman hung onto Gabriel tightly.”
“Tara Beckenroe? No.” Derek kind of laughed. “Well, I shouldn’t say no. I think in Tara’s mind they were pretty close at the time. They spent a few nights together, and Tara became kind of obsessive. She gets that way when she decides to go after something.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Nikki said.
“In regard to Tara? Yeah. Let’s just say she doesn’t play coy. She’s a barracuda, and she’s made a few attempts at getting to me. I’m not interested. Gabriel showed her some interest, and she was all over it. But Gabriel wasn’t the kind of man a woman could tie down easily. Tara is the kind of woman who likes to get her man. Gabriel liked to date a lot of women. She wasn’t exactly thrilled when he told her to back off.”
“Looks like a quite a celebration.” Nikki flapped the picture in a slight motion.
“We were celebrating the planting of grapes that we both felt could revolutionize California dessert wines.”
“You two were close?”
Derek nodded. “We are, I mean. . . .” He took a sip from his port, obviously not knowing how to finish the sentence. He set his glass down on the end table next to Nikki, giving her a saddened half smile. “Gabriel was getting closer and closer with each season to making a dessert wine that almost copied the exact taste of wines from the Porto area in Portugal. We’d developed a neutral grape brandy along with a couple of grape varietals that, once mixed together, would have been a phenomenon. But now . . .” Derek brought his glass up to his lips and took a slow sip.
“Did you know Gabriel for a long time?”
“A while. He came to the vineyard about a decade ago, about five years before my dad died. I liked him right away. He was funny, with a real stereotypical Italian macho attitude. I got a kick out of him. He was a great chef, too. He didn’t know anyone here, and I met him in a wine shop down the road when I was delivering some wines. That was back before Malveaux Wines really took off, and I was doing a lot of the footwork myself.”
“Admirable.”
“No. Not really. Hard work is how it gets done. My brother, really my half brother, doesn’t even come close to understanding that concept. But he’s another subject. Anyway, I overheard Gabriel talking to the shop owner, asking why he didn’t carry any Italian wines. I laughed at that, because being in Napa at a smaller wine shop, it was obvious why there were no Italian wines there. Gabriel took my laughter as an insult. But it got us talking about wines, and we wound up corking a bottle of mine and drinking it. He bragged, claiming that he could make a better bottle than what I’d shared with him, and again I laughed. He said that he’d prove it. So I took him up on it and brought him here. Before long, our old winemaker who never got along well with my dad was out, and Gabriel was in. I worked alongside him for a bit, but then I was needed more on the business end of things when my dad began showing his age and grew quite fragile.”
“I’m so sorry. It sounds like you’ve had quite a bit of loss in your life.”
Derek set his glass down on one of the wooden tables and walked back into his kitchen, which overlooked the family room. His back was to her as he opened the refrigerator. “I think we all have.”
She heard the deep emotion in his voice, signifying to her that he was choked up. In such a short time, the story of Derek Malveaux and his vineyard had grown quite complex.
Derek came back out of the kitchen after a few moments, refilled her glass, and set down a tray of blue-and-green veined cheeses, walnuts, and pear slices. “I’d hoped to invite you out for a nice dinner, but I don’t think I’m up to it. I don’t know what to do about tomorrow night.”
She reached across him for a piece of cheese, her arm grazing his chest. “Please, don’t worry about me and dinner. This is perfect. The day has gone by quickly. I suppose when there’s a murder involved . . . Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound crass.”
“You didn’t. You didn’t even know Gabriel. I’m sorry that you’re here under these circumstances.” He grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl in the tray.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m still interested in the job, that is, if you still want to consider me.”
“Nothing has changed. In fact, more than ever, I’m going to need some help around here. Gabriel was one of the finest winemakers in the country, not to mention my friend. It’ll be hard for me to concentrate, and I’ll need a pair of eyes to wat
ch over my shoulder.”
Nikki wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she decided to let it go for the time being. “You mentioned something about what to do concerning tomorrow night. Are you referring to the benefit?”
He nodded. “I don’t see how I can cancel. It’s not only to raise money for the Leukemia Foundation, but it’s an annual tribute to my mother’s memory. She passed away from the disease when I was a kid. I hold the event yearly, and we raise a great deal of money. It’s also when we release the new vintages for the season. Gabriel usually does it. He makes quite a toast.” Derek brought his hands up to his face. “This is very hard.”
“No worries. I understand. I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here, but I think you should go forward with the benefit. From what you’ve told me about Gabriel, that’s what he would’ve wanted, and in a way, you can extend the idea of celebrating his life by showing off his latest creations.”
Murder Uncorked Page 4
