Murder Uncorked Read online

  Her mother had finally given her the gift of having a good life by sending her away to live with her Aunt Cara. Nikki had replaced her mother with her aunt, and was grateful every day for Aunt Cara. Without her love and care, and the offer to raise her, who knew where Nikki might’ve ended up. Aunt Cara had taken her in without bat-ting an eye, and even though her job as a cop with the LAPD was time-consuming and stressful, she rarely missed any of Nikki’s school events or anything major in her life. Yes, her aunt had always been there for her—a willing parent and friend.

  Cara had been married once, before Nikki came to live with her, to another cop. He was killed in the line of duty, and her aunt sadly enough never remarried, or dated much for that matter. She’d always wanted a child, but during the five years she’d been married had been unable to get pregnant. So, as much as Cara filled that maternal void for Nikki, it was apparent that Nikki also filled a void for Cara. God, how she missed her, but this was her aunt’s time, and with any luck maybe she would let loose, relax, and even, fingers crossed, find love again.

  Nikki stepped out of the shower and dried off, shaking out the demons in her head. How had she made it? A huge part of it was because of Aunt Cara—one of the few sane ones in a long line of crazies.

  She tried desperately to push those thoughts away as she slipped into her black dress. It did the trick, making her look sophisticated and showing enough cleavage to sexy her up some.

  After applying a bit of nectar-colored lipstick, along with some blush across her cheeks and eyelids and a couple of coats of mascara, she figured she was as ready as she was going to be. Nikki shut the door to the guest cottage behind her and walked out into the chilly evening.

  Chapter 9

  Nikki tightened her black shawl around herself while waiting for Derek out on the front porch of the cottage to attend the evening’s grand soiree.

  “I like a lady who’s on time,” he said approaching the front steps, looking amazing in a charcoal suit, burgundy shirt, and tie. “And one who looks absolutely beautiful, I might add.”

  Her face and a few other areas warmed to the compliment. The strange day with its clues, weird interviews, and her hunches all vanished as Derek held out his arm, and she took it.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

  “Are you kidding? I’m dying with anticipation.”

  “Let me assure you then, that if you’ve ever enjoyed a soap opera in your life, and I’m not admitting to anything here other than I did watch an episode or two of Melrose Place back in the day, before I turned a new leaf and took a hiatus from the tube, then what you’re about to witness would put that show to shame.”

  “As I said, I can’t wait. And, if what I experienced today was a preview, well I’m certain this will be damn good. However, I’m curious about how you got mixed up with this crowd if they’re as ludicrous as you say.”

  “What’s the saying—you can’t choose your family? In my case, I didn’t choose half of these folks to be involved in my life. I am guilty of Meredith, that I will confess to.” He sighed. “But love is blind.”

  “You are a man of clichés.”

  They laughed together. “That I am, my dear. Hopefully, you’ll find that I am also a man of substance, or at least I like to think so.”

  They entered the old mansion that overlooked the vineyard. It was a Tudor straight out of the English countryside. Bach was being played quietly in the background through the house’s sound system. The whole place oozed fancyschmancy. Everything was done in dark woods, fabrics of damask and velvet in burgundy, gold, and hunter green. Apparently no one had told Derek’s step-monster that 1992 was more than a decade past. Someone had spent a lot of money on decorating the house, but someone sure in heck needed to spend some money updating it. Still, the home was remarkable.

  The architecture held true to its seventeenth-century English style, with all its charm and beauty, from high ceilings to stained glass windows, and even a turret that surrounded the staircase leading upstairs. “To live in a home like this, if you can call it a home—it’s so amazing. God, how lucky,” she said turning to Derek.

  “It used to be. I haven’t lived here since I was seventeen. That’s when I went away to college. When I came back, I moved into the farmhouse. I couldn’t live here. It’d be like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Speaking of which, here comes one of the asylum inmates now.”

  She watched as Derek plastered on a phony smile for Botox buddy number one. This close up, and without dust in her eyes, Nikki could really get a good look at just how lavishly paid Patrice’s plastic surgeon must have been. She made Joan Rivers look tame in comparison. Her low-cut black beaded dress showed off what one could only assume were a pair of store-bought boobs. A matching beaded purse hung from her shoulder.

  Nikki crossed her arms in front of her, suddenly becoming very aware of her lack of haute couture and the fact that her bra size was a B cup, even with a Miracle Bra.

  “Lovely you could make it, Derek,” Patrice cooed.

  He leaned in and coldly kissed his stepmother on the cheek. “Last time I checked, Patrice, I was the host. Let’s play nice tonight and remember the reason we’re all here is to battle leukemia.”

  “Yes,” she said sounding rather snakelike as she placed a long emphasis on the s, her eyes darting around the room. “But I am allowing you to host it in my home. By the way, have you seen Meredith? She looks gorgeous, especially on Cal Sumner’s arm. I’m so pleased she’s found someone who can satisfy her.” She leaned in to him and lowered her voice. “Maybe if you could’ve satisfied her, she wouldn’t have wound up in another man’s bed.” She winked at Nikki, who looked away, unsure of exactly what to do.

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Derek replied, noticeably holding back his anger as his jaw clenched around his response.

  “I think I’d like a drink, please,” Nikki said, trying desperately to break the tension between them, and to get as far away as she could from the hideous woman.

  “Of course she would like a drink.” Patrice looked aghast at Derek. “Sometimes Derek forgets his manners. It’s something I’ve worked on for years with him, but not even expensive boarding schools helped.”

  “Patrice Malveaux, this is Nikki Sands,” Derek said with a nonchalant smile, remaining as cavalier as he could.

  “Yes, Nicole, nice to formally meet you.”

  Nikki stifled a retort and instead smiled. “Nice to meet you, too, Patricia.”

  “Patrice, darling.”

  “I’m terribly sorry. Shall we get that drink now?” She faced Derek, who hooked her arm as they walked away from the wretched hag’s piercing eyes, which Nikki could almost feel burning a hole through her back. “I’m beginning to get the picture. Whew. That was ugly.”

  “That’s nothing. She was just winding up.”

  Nikki glanced back over her shoulder at Derek’s stepmother and caught her breath to see Patrice digging out a pack of Benson and Hedges from her purse. The smoker. Could Patrice also be the owner of the “best friends” charm? Nikki doubted it, fairly certain that Patrice’s best friends were diamonds. Derek interrupted the thought process starting to roll in Nikki’s head.

  “Here, I want you to try this.” He took a glass of white wine from one of the butler’s trays. “This is our latest Sauvignon Blanc. It’s a little young in my opinion, but it’s fresh and tangy.” Taking a pita-type appetizer from another tray, he thanked the waiter, calling him by name. “And it goes nicely with this appetizer,” he said, handing her a pastry tart off the waiter’s tray. “This is a recipe my pal Bob Hurley gave me. He owns one of my favorite restaurants around here. I’ll have to take you there. This is a goat cheese and red onion tart with apple-smoked bacon. It’s delicious. Bob’s a great guy, so I asked him for the recipe. A lot of times at events we do here at the winery, I’ll give the caterers my own recipes to prepare.”

  “Your recipes?” she asked, surprised. “Aren’t you talent
ed?”

  “I don’t know about that. I like to cook, and I learned a lot from my mom. She was a wonderful cook. In fact, when my folks had parties, she never allowed them to be catered.” Nikki thought she saw him tear up, but the dim lighting made it hard to really tell. “She was funny that way. Fantastic cook, but when she was in a kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter, it was a disaster. Cooking she could do. Cleaning was not her thing. You know how you see characters on TV cooking with flour on their nose, and all over the place?”

  Nikki nodded.

  “That was my mom. She marched to her own drumbeat. I think that was why she was so special.”

  “You really miss her.”

  “More than anyone will ever know. We were really close, and that’s why I do this each year, and stay as involved as I am in the foundation. Leukemia is a wretched disease. I want to do what I can to help find a cure. But tell you what, I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

  “I understand.” Nikki wanted to help lighten things up for him, so she decided to talk about what he loved the most. “Pairing the wines can be pretty intricate at times,” she commented.

  “You should know. You’ve done a good job yourself suggesting pairings.”

  She liked the sound of that. “Thanks.” They finished off their tarts and glasses of wine.

  “Hey, there’s Minnie.” He pointed through a pair of French doors at the woman she’d met earlier. “It might be nice for you to acquire a perspective other than mine about the winery.”

  A twinge of guilt traveled through her with the knowledge that she’d already gotten another perspective on the winery from Andrés.

  They stepped out onto the patio. The area was absolutely glamorous, like something from a movie set. Lanterns filled with candles illuminated the scene, and the scent of orange blossoms filled the air. A group of musicians played big-band music in the gazebo on the other side of a lap pool. The effect was from another era, and far different than the stuffiness in the interior of the mansion.

  They walked toward Minnie, who smiled as they approached. “I really think that you’ll like it here. As I explained earlier, I could use some help,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “While you two ladies chat, I’m going to head over to one of the bars and bring another wine for you to try. Minnie, anything for you?” Derek asked.

  “If your hands aren’t too full, I’ll take whatever you bring out.”

  Nikki could be friends with this woman. She was warm, yet conservative enough to give off an air of respectability. Usually people like that intimidated Nikki; however, Minnie Lark did not.

  “Sorry that you came here at such an awkward time. It’s been horrific losing Gabriel, and then having to pull this party together. Usually, it’s a mellow scene at the winery, minus all the misfits. I don’t know how Derek does it, and is able to keep the gluttons at bay at the same time.” Minnie nodded her head in the direction of a small cluster of people.

  They included Patrice, who was puffing away on her cigarette, and Meredith, as well as a man Nikki assumed to be Cal Sumner. He had his arm around Meredith, and now she could see why Derek’s ex was infatuated with the vineyard owner down the road. He looked a great deal like Johnny Depp, once again affirming Nikki’s findings that the men occupying Napa Valley weren’t passed over in the looks department. She didn’t recognize the other two men, but they were quite a pair. Both handsome and dressed as if they’d stepped out of a Banana Republic ad, the dark-haired one clad in a white silk shirt and khaki pants, his counterpart wearing an olive-green silk shirt and black pants. Nikki thought that they were probably Simon, Derek’s half brother and his partner, Marco.

  As she watched the group, Minnie rattled on in her ear about the winery and the types of wines they produced, becoming noticeably quite tipsy. “Gabriel was great. I mean fantastic, you know. He was such a genius with the wines. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  “I take it that you knew him pretty well?” Nikki got the distinct feeling by the way the woman acted that Minnie knew Gabriel as more than just a friend.

  She nodded and sucked back a deep sob, lowering her voice. “I did.” Minnie looked down.

  “Minnie, are you okay?”

  “No one knows this. I don’t even know why I’m telling you. I shouldn’t tell you. I don’t know you, but you seem like a nice person, and I have to talk to someone.” Nikki gave her an encouraging nod. “Gabriel and I were lovers. We kept it under wraps because it’s not always the best idea to mix love and work, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do.”

  “I’m sure Derek would’ve been fine with it, but it was kind of fun for us to have a secret. It seems silly now that he’s gone. So do the dreams we shared. My idea of going to Tuscany was real. We talked about it one night after we watched Under the Tuscan Sun together at my place. Gabriel always wanted to go back to Italy. Get away from here, maybe have our own vineyard.” A tear fell down her face.

  Nikki touched her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that you’re here tonight. Gosh. If there’s anything I can do to help you through this, please let me know.”

  Minnie nodded. “Thank you.” She brushed away her tears.

  Nikki hesitated for a moment but figured there was no time like the present, since Minnie had been the one to open the door and let it all out. “I don’t want to upset you, but do you have any idea as to who might have done this?”

  Minnie looked away from her and out past the dance floor and gazebo. When she turned back to face her, tears had flooded her eyes again. For a second, Nikki was sorry she asked, until Minnie sighed and again nodded. She lowered her voice. “That’s another reason why I’m feeling so horrible.”

  “What do you mean?” Nikki asked.

  “I, uh, I have a friend, a dear friend. His name is Andrés Fernandez. He’s a winemaker down the road, at Spaniards’ Crest. He’s a good listener, you know?”

  Nikki nodded, not sure where this was going, but having a gut-wrenching feeling that it was going somewhere good. She didn’t think it was a bright idea to let on to Minnie that she’d already heard Andrés name mentioned more than once in regard to Gabriel’s murder, or the fact that she’d already had personal contact with the man. If Minnie knew this, she might change her mind about telling Nikki whatever it was she wanted to tell her.

  “He and Gabriel didn’t get along, and well, they went a few rounds more than once.”

  “You mean fighting?”

  “They had a few yelling matches. I saw Andrés push Gabriel once, not that long ago at a party. Gabriel went to swing at him, but Andrés’ sister tried to break it up. She actually wound up getting hit by Gabriel, accidentally, because she got in the way, and you can imagine Andrés’ reaction. He pretty much vowed to get him.”

  “What was the fight over?”

  Minnie traced the rim of her wine glass and then took another large gulp before answering. “As much as I loved Gabriel, it was no secret to anyone that he was a womanizer. He tried to tell me that he was changing and he loved me, and you know men, all of that stuff. But, I knew that he loved beautiful women. And, Andrés’ sister is a beautiful woman.”

  “Are you saying that Gabriel was also sleeping with Andrés’ sister?” Man, did the guy get around or what?

  “No. Isabel, that’s Andrés’ sister, wanted nothing to do with Gabriel. But, according to Andrés, who talked to me about the incident at the party, Gabriel would not leave Isabel alone. He’d call her, and when they’d run into each other around town, come on to her, and this really bothered Isabel, who complained to her big brother.”

  “Who reacted like most protective big brothers would.”

  “Exactly.”

  Aha! The key to the clue as to why Andrés really despised Gabriel so much. Nikki also couldn’t help wondering about Minnie. Why wouldn’t an intelligent, lovely woman like her send someone like Gabriel packing? What wonderful quality
did this guy have that everyone around him fell prey to his charms? That is, apparently everyone but this Isabel and her brother. She couldn’t help thinking poorly of the deceased, however; the more she learned about Gabriel, the more she didn’t like about him. “Have you told the police any of this?”

  “No. Of course not. Andrés is my friend. I like his sister. They’re good people. There may have been bad blood between him and Gabriel, but I don’t think he could do something like kill Gabriel.”

  “But you can’t help wondering, can you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t. But I can’t go to the police, and besides I’m sure that they’re aware of the difficulties between them. There were a lot of people at that party, and someone must have said something to the police by now.”