Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
RECIPE INDEX
PRAISE FOR
A Vintage Murder
“Michele Scott has poured another perfect glass for her readers with A Vintage Murder. The full-bodied characters, sweet romance, crisp plot, and dry wit will have you reaching for a refill. Another outstanding addition to one of my favorite cozy series.”—Jessica Conant-Park
Silenced by Syrah
“A lively, well-written novel that leaves you wanting to read more.”—Suite101.com
“[A]n enjoyable read...A very pleasant way to pass an afternoon.”—ReviewingTheEvidence.com
Murder by the Glass
“Nikki is such a fun character.”—The Best Reviews
“The writing fairly sparkles . . . A murder mystery, a love triangle, and gourmet recipes with wine pairings . . . What’s not to love?”—Romance Divas
“Another fun and very readable mystery by Michele Scott...Her protagonist is someone with whom most women readers can identify—a modern woman with flaws and limitations just like all of us.”—Suite101.com
Murder Uncorked
“All the sparkle, complexity, and romance of a fine champagne. This mystery is one you’ll want to read right through with a bottle of good wine and some of the author’s tasty canapés at your side. I loved it and look forward to more installments.”—Nancy Fairbanks
“A superb amateur sleuth tale starring an upbeat heroine and a fabulous prime suspect.”—Midwest Book Review
“A perfect blend of murder and page-turning fiction!”
—Holly Jacobs
“The first in a series that has great potential…The Napa Valley is a lush setting, and foodies will drink in the wine lore and will savor the recipes for tasty tidbits.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Edgy and suspenseful...Sleek, smart characters add realism to a mystery made more colorful by the fabulous Napa Valley setting.”—Romantic Times
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Michele Scott
The Wine Lover’s Mysteries
MURDER UNCORKED
MURDER BY THE GLASS
SILENCED BY SYRAH
A VINTAGE MURDER
CORKED BY CABERNET
The Horse Lover’s Mysteries
SADDLED WITH TROUBLE
DEATH REINS IN
TACKED TO DEATH
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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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 persons, 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 websites or their content.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
CORKED BY CABERNET
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / February 2009
Copyright © 2009 by Michele Scott.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without
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eISBN : 978-1-440-68723-5
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
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To Jessica Park,
who is a dear friend and without whom I think
I may have either wound up
totally insane or—yeah—
totally insane.
Here’s to you, J.P., and the dream.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
They say it takes a village to raise a child. I’m here to say that it takes a village and then some to support a writer. There are so many people who help me do what I do as a writer. During the writing of this book, life kept getting in the way and I am grateful to have had the support I’ve had during this process. I want to thank my dream editor, Sandy Harding, for her encouragement, support, and belief in me. Thanks to Connie Hagey for giving my daughter riding lessons while I typed away at the picnic table at Willow Glen Equestrian Center. Also, Scott Willeford, who is a dear friend and who has helped me a ton with the police procedural stuff, letting me know what I can and can’t get away with. Kudos to Bob Gelman of Grape Connections, who helps me tons with the wine pairings. Thanks to my friends Lisa Lakey and Siobhan Debenedetto for reminding me that it’s okay to let loose once in a while, and for all the times you picked up my kids and helped out. A huge thanks to my friend Kristi Inzunza for going to bat with my nemesis. Who knew I had one? And to her husband, Joey, for having no clue what the word meant and we’re still laughing about it. As always, the Cozy Chicks get their deserved due! You chicks are the
bomb (okay, I suppose that I have been hanging with teenagers for far too long when the bomb is part of my vocab). And to my new gal pals—horsewomen and writers! Check us out at www.equestrianink.blogspot.com. To my mom and dad for their never-ending support and guidance—thanks for always being a soft place to fall, Mom. To my in-laws, Sue and Jack, who allowed me to write away while on our visit. I’m sorry I had my nose in the laptop all the time. Thank you for feeding me, letting me have your chair, Mom, and not caring if I wore my pajamas all day. Sue donated the chicken-fried steak recipe and biscuits. Try it! You won’t be disappointed. I want to shout out to my sister-in-law Cathy, who took us on the best and most humorous tour of New York City. You rock, Cathy! To my son Alex, who reminds me that good things do come to those who wait. I will never forget NYC with you, kid. One of the best times of my life, even under the circumstances. You are a GIFT. By the way, Alex, do you think Nanny has been there? Just remember—“Silence! I will kill you.” To my son Anthony, who is so sure in his heart that Mom will be a bestseller he makes my heart ache with pride and love. Thank you to my daughter, Kaitlin, who no matter what kind of day it’s been brings a smile to my face and makes me feel like I am a goddess. And to my husband, John, who stands by me in all of this insanity that a writer endures and never doubts me or my dream. Last but most definitely not least—to every single solitary reader who picks up one of my books. At the end of the day, it is you whom I write for. It is my prayer that you somehow connect, feel, laugh, and relate to Nikki and the gang. Keep the e-mails coming and I’ll keep answering because you are what makes a writer keep wanting to create.
One
NIKKI Sands dropped the box in her arms onto the kitchen counter, not believing what she’d just heard. “What did you say?” She turned to her friend Simon Malveaux. Ollie the Rhodesian ridgeback, who was sleeping smack dab in the middle of the kitchen floor, lifted his head. He looked up at Nikki, obviously sensing that she didn’t sound thrilled.
“I know, isn’t it exciting? I’m kind of thinking a lot of curry dishes on the menu. You know, even lean toward more vegan meals—gotta keep things green. And there is this wonderful New Age musician, amazing with the flute, lives up the road in St. Helena. I thought he’d be great for entertainment. It’ll be wonderful,” he rambled. The realization that maybe Nikki wasn’t thinking along the same lines made him stop. Placing a hand on his jutted-out hip, he frowned. “I know that look, Snow White. Why are you looking at me like that?” He waved a hand in the air. “All pissy-like, like I’m bugging you.”
“You are bugging me. I can’t do this right now. In case you hadn’t noticed, I have several events to prepare for. We’re already into March and in only a few months harvest and crush will be on us. Plus, can’t you see what I’m doing? I am a little busy.” She opened the box and started unloading a set of plates—all white and traditional, a stark contrast to the eclectic kitchen done in a Spanish style that matched the ranch house. The walls were painted a turquoise and enhanced by the rustic-colored Spanish tiles that paved the floor. This room was a feel-good room where Nikki could cook and entertain—two things she looked forward to doing in this home—her new home.
Ollie stood up and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the sofa where Nikki had given up trying to make the dog understand that he was a dog and not another human. Ollie had decidedly made the couch one of his beds.
“I can see, you’re busy making your new love nest, but Derek said that you’d help us.” Simon smiled his pretty-boy smile and ran his hand nervously through his platinum-dyed buzz cut.
“He did not. He wouldn’t do that to me. He knows I’m behind and swamped.”
“Yeah, he did. He said so,” he replied, punctuating his words with a loud cluck of the tongue.
She unwrapped one of the plates and opened Derek’s cupboards. Oh jeez, she was going to have to rearrange everything in the kitchen. The man had been a bachelor far too long. Nikki couldn’t believe she was standing in Derek Malveaux’s kitchen moving in her things—because yes, they were doing it, “shacking up,” as her aunt Cara had put it to her over the phone when she’d told her. She preferred “living together.” It didn’t sound seedy that way.
Since their trip to Australia they’d spent almost every waking hour together. Slowly but surely her stuff gravitated to his house. It seemed to make sense to both of them to do the right thing and shack up. Well, live together. It was a financially and logistically sound idea. Even though she only moved from the Malveaux Boutique Hotel on the property.
Simon, Derek’s brother, also lived on the vineyard with his partner, Marco. They were two of her good friends, but could definitely be royal pains when they wanted. This latest antic they were pulling on her was bee-lining them smack dab onto that pain-in-the-ass list again.
She sighed, not believing that Derek would do such a thing. This was only Simon trying to manipulate her. “Let me get this straight. Your guru, the Guru Sansibaba”—God, that was the most ridiculous name she’d ever heard—“his family, his people, and some of his followers are planning to come here for a weeklong workshop?” She shook her head. “And the Malveaux Spa and Winery is hosting them?”
“No, now it’s not like that. We’re not hosting them. It’s big money, and it’ll be good promo for us. Think of it like that. It’s the Baba himself and his crew, which apparently does include his wife and three grown children, but we aren’t talking about hordes of people. See, Marco and I just joined the Source Enlightened Elite group, otherwise known as S.E.E. Get it—as in see the light. Isn’t that clever?”
“The what group?” She took a couple of empty jelly jars out of the cupboard. Interesting. She doubted Derek ever did any canning. Recycles.
“It’s the it group for enlightened souls, and we made it in.” Simon clapped his hands together.
“Uh-huh, why don’t you enlighten me, and explain what your joining this group means exactly in regards to this workshop thing? And what did this cost you guys? An exclusive club is never free.”
He sighed and she could tell by the way he fidgeted around, moving like a kid needing to pee, that he was considering telling her a lie. “It was a little expensive. But we had to go through an application process. It’s not like just anyone can get in. It’s like the Harvard of enlightenment teachings.”
She frowned. “Harvard? A little expensive? Like how little?”
“A hundred thousand dollars,” he muttered and lowered his head.
“A hundred thousand dollars! You better have a ticket straight to heaven for that kind of cash. Does your brother know about this?”
“No.” He shrunk back. “I don’t have to tell Derek how or where I spend my money. And don’t you say anything. I only told you because I trust you.”
Ooh, he knew how to get to her. “Tell me, Simon, what do you get for that kind of money? I hope you get a contract stating that it’ll be God himself, not Saint Peter, who’ll be opening the pearly white gates for you. And you get an automatic ‘Go on through’ pass.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please. We don’t follow any one religion. We believe all faiths have validity to them. But I’m so glad you asked about the money, because after I tell you, you’ll see how great all of this is going to be. For the big hundred thou, we get to be with only a handful of other people in our group. We get all of the guru’s books, CDs, and DVDs for free, plus we get to be seated in the first front rows at all of his celebration seminars. That means we get to be seated first and we get our photo taken with him at each event.”
“Ooh, a picture. Impressive.”
“Come on,” he whined. “You haven’t even heard the best part.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, three times a year we get to go on vacation with him to some exciting locale and learn from the master himself.”
“Oh yeah, I can see how that would be the best part.”
He smiled as if he were the cat who swallowed the canary.
She stared at h
im. “Come on, Simon! You’re kidding. My God! When are you going to see that this guy is simply a master in making money?”
“You are so not hip or fun anymore. Now you’re like Suzy homemaker and I can see it, you’re gonna be a buzz kill from now on. You’ll be all brownies in the afternoons with a glass of milk, and watching soap operas. Your ass’ll get wide and, gawd, just no fun. Domesticated. That’s what you’re becoming.”
“Sounds like me. Actually sounds kind of good. I like brownies.” Except for the expanding backside. That didn’t sound too appealing. “Soap operas, I don’t know about. Reruns of Will & Grace? Maybe.”
“Oh I loved that show. I wish they’d never taken it off TV. See what happens when you settle down? Next thing you’ll be like Debra Messing, baby and all and blah, blah, blah . . .” He lifted himself up onto the counter and sat on the edge.
Nikki stomped her feet. “Shut up!” Simon went wide-eyed. “Look, I’m only trying to help you see that this guru Sansibaba nut knows how to market and sell his product, which he labels ‘enlightenment.’ That’s crazy. Enlightenment comes from within.”
“I know that. But he’s not what you think. And you know what? It doesn’t matter what you think. The plan for S.E.E. was to go to Bali, but then a typhoon hit and so the winery is what we’ve come up with. You be a good girl and play nice. You don’t have a choice anyway. Since Marco and I are the newest members, we thought it would be good to start off by giving back. You know, paying it forward from the get-go. Everyone will be here next week, and you are going to help me and Marco see that it runs smoothly. Just ask the boss man himself. He said it would be no problema.”
Excuse me? Nikki found herself speechless. Simon never took that tone with her. He could be bitchy—yes. He was always that way and she played right along—it was just Simon. But downright bossy? That was new. “Good, I’m glad we’re in agreement.” He glanced at his watch. “Gotta run. I have a manicure scheduled. I’ll be back at six for a little powwow. I can see the wheels churning, Snow White.” He jumped off the counter. “I know you. You’re already getting on board, aren’t you? That’s what I love about you You’re a regular Pollyanna. Good karma coming your way. Before long you’ll have the domesticated gig down and it’ll be everything you ever dreamed because you are a good person. See you later, love.” He blew a kiss at her, scrambling to get out the front door.
Corked by Cabernet Page 1
