Murder Uncorked Read online

  His anger was obvious as he raised his voice and his face flushed. “Another thing, if you think that I’m a killer, then what the hell are you doing sitting next to me on a tractor?”

  “You don’t strike me as a killer,” she shot back at him. “I’m only searching for answers.”

  “Why? What’s it to you? Why do you care so much? Don’t give me some trumped-up answer about trying to make a decision on if you want to take Malveaux’s offer for a job.”

  She started fidgeting with her earring stud—a nervous habit. She honestly didn’t know the answer to that.

  He waved a hand at her. “Forget it. If I had to guess, I’d say that you have a thing for Malveaux, and you still haven’t stepped out of your role as Detective Martini.”

  Nikki grimaced and shrunk back in her seat.

  “I told you I caught a few episodes. Wasn’t the format, Detective Martini figures out the mystery, captures the bad guys, saves the day, and gets her man? If I were you, I’d try to remember that this is the real world, and you might want to put the flame out on that crush of yours and be careful.”

  “What do you mean?” Was that a threat?

  “There’s obviously a killer out there, and I’m not it. If I were you, I’d watch my back and my heart. Malveaux got his heart crushed by that ex of his, and I wouldn’t count on him to fall for anyone, anytime soon.” Boy. Did this guy know how to deflate a girl or what?

  He started up the tractor. “That answer your questions?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Andrés finished collecting grapes from the various areas and headed back up the hill.

  Nikki mulled over the information in her mind. She did have one more question for him.

  Andrés brought the tractor to a halt at the top of the hill, gathered his various bags of grapes in one hand, and walked around to the side of the tractor, offering Nikki his free hand. She took it. “Thanks.”

  “What? You’re looking at me kind of funny again,” he said. “Ask away, because you’re obviously not finished.” He started walking up to the open patio, heading to the hydrometer to take his measurements.

  She followed behind him. Here goes. “Where were you last night?”

  He stopped, turned around, and smiled. “With a group of friends. Then, I went home with someone and stayed all night.” His smile widened. “I can give you her number if you’d like, and you can ask her yourself.”

  Nikki clenched her fists, feeling the embarrassment rise in her cheeks. He’d bested her again. “That’s okay. Thanks.”

  “Don’t forget to come back and have that glass of wine with me,” he hollered after her.

  She climbed into the truck, embarrassed and frustrated. Andrés was not the killer. She believed him, and it wouldn’t take his last-night’s lover to confirm it for her. There were still plenty of unanswered questions and a handful of suspects.

  She remembered the smirk on Tara’s face the night before when she’d found Minnie’s body. Nikki got the distinct feeling looking into that vulture’s face that she was satisfied the attractive accountant was dead. There was something vicious behind these murders, and Nikki wondered if Tara played a role in all of it. Tara had been seeing Gabriel. Derek also said she had an obsessive personality. No kidding.

  Then there was the clandestine meeting between Patrice and Meredith. Their bizarre conversation with regard to Gabriel and him not going to work for Cal, and the need to keep Derek in the dark didn’t make any sense to Nikki. In the dark for what? Not to mention, the two women obviously had some type of relationship going on other than mere friends. Were they the ones behind the murders? Nor could Nikki forget Simon and Marco, and Cal’s impression of the two of them. They, too, were an odd couple who appeared to have secrets to hide.

  With Andrés out of the running, which Nikki found herself relieved about, she figured it was time to again put her amateur sleuthing skills to work and see what she might come up with on her own.

  After taking a ride into town and consuming the cure-all for hangovers—French fries and a quarter pounder with cheese—she used her cell phone to get Cal Sumner’s number from Information. She wanted to ask him what he knew about Meredith and Patrice. A voice-mail recording answered. Nikki decided to hold off leaving a message.

  She drove back to the Malveaux Estate. All was quiet. It was early Sunday afternoon, and since Malveaux had harvested two months earlier, there were no workers out. There was plenty of time before she needed to start getting ready for dinner.

  Nikki locked up the truck and set out for a walk to the Malveaux business offices on the far side of the winery. Maybe the accounting books Minnie kept would tell her something.

  She felt awful about it, but she actually had to break into the main offices, using her handy dandy Swiss Army knife.

  Minnie’s office reminded Nikki of the young woman. She had liked beautiful things. Her walls were adorned with vineyard landscapes, but not of California wine country—Tuscany. Minnie did have a thing for Italy, Italian men and countryside. There was a vase of fresh daisies on the corner of her desk. Nikki couldn’t help but wonder if Minnie had picked them the day before. It was so strange to think that less than twenty-four hours had passed since she’d first met a very alive Minnie Lark. Mortality was a bizarre thing.

  Nikki rummaged around in Minnie’s desk drawers, feeling like a criminal as she kept sneaking peeks over her shoulder, even though she knew no one was there. Everything appeared normal. The drawers were filled with to-do notes, invoices, billing statements, and of course, in the largest file cabinet, several rows of accounting books.

  She pulled one out and thumbed through it. It was from a few years ago, the same year that Derek and Meredith married, and before the bistro was opened. This particular book only kept the accounting for grapes sold to other vineyards. Derek wasn’t kidding when he’d told her that was where the bulk of their cash came from. She couldn’t help wondering how the murders were going to affect the business and the Malveaux reputation.

  There was an entire row of the accounting books, and Nikki skimmed through them, losing track of time as she got lost in the numbers. She thought about taking a few of the books back to the cottage, but then nixed that idea, in case someone went looking for them. Something tugged at Nikki’s conscience. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew it was about the books.

  She glanced outside Minnie’s window and then at the clock on her desk. The time had flown by. She’d been in there for three hours and really hadn’t come up with much. She didn’t want to be trapped inside Minnie’s office after dark, plus she had to meet Derek for dinner around five, but her gut told her to keep looking.

  She pulled out three more books. One of them was for the bistro. It appeared at first glance that there was nothing suspicious. However, the expenses did seem kind of high. Granted, the bistro was upscale to match the winery itself, but the costs appeared to be quite grandiose. It didn’t make a lot of sense to be spending twenty dollars per serving plate at wholesale cost. Why would Derek allow that? Most folks, especially when eating at a bistro-type place, don’t come in for the fine china. Twenty bucks in these parts wasn’t that big of a deal, but when buying several dishes and replacing them on a frequent basis, that could dig into the profits some. The glasses, too, were expensive, even the water glasses. Nikki made a mental note to make it over to the bistro when she got the chance, and take a look at the dinnerware, to see if she could determine if it was worth the price. It didn’t seem wise for a restaurant that was raising charity funds to blow through that much cash. The winery was where the money was being made.

  According to the books, the flatware was purchased from Remick Restaurant Supply. She noted that as well, and decided to get in touch with them. Was Derek not paying as close attention to the books over the last few months, but simply trusting that Minnie was doing her job?

  Nikki skimmed farther down the books and noted that there were also some deposits under
a category labeled Wine Club. That was another topic to research, as it appeared to garner quite a bit of income for the winery. She recalled Derek telling her that the wine club had been set up to provide charity funds for the Leukemia Foundation.

  She stole a glance outside of Minnie’s window. The sun was going down, and she needed to get back to the cottage and change for dinner. But first she was going to photocopy a few pages out of the accounting book and show them to Derek.

  The copy room was down the hall from Minnie’s office. She flipped on the light and jumped back. She laughed. How stupid that simply flipping on a light switch would startle her. Her nerves were far more on edge than she realized.

  She found the switch on the copier and turned it on. The hum of the machine buzzed throughout the small room. She opened up the top cover, placing face down the first page she wanted to copy. She had run off three pages when a thought occurred to her. Maybe she should check some of the prior years’ books a bit more carefully to see if there’d been a price increase with the dinnerware, or even if they’d changed supply companies at one time. She also wondered if the Wine Club entries were entered in previous years.

  She turned to go back to Minnie’s office to see what more she could find while the copier machine finished doing its job. She walked out the door into the now dim hall leading back to Minnie’s office. A flash of movement passed by out of the corner of her eye. It all happened so fast, she didn’t have time to focus on what she’d seen. The next thing she felt was something hard and heavy whacking her on the head. Nikki fell to the ground.

  Chapter 14

  “Miss Sands? Nikki Sands?”

  Nikki blinked her eyes several times, trying to focus. The pain in the back of her head throbbed worse than any migraine she’d ever had. “Ugh,” she moaned. “What happened?” she asked, sitting up and facing Manuel, the vineyard worker she’d met recently.

  He bent down on one knee and held out a calloused and weathered hand to her. Gratefully, she took it as he put his other arm behind her and gently helped her to her feet.

  “Everyone is out looking for you. Señor Malveaux is very worried.”

  “He is?” She rubbed the back of her head, feeling matted hair mixed with what she could only assume was dried blood. How long had she been in here? She could see that it was dark outside.

  “Very worried. He was getting ready to call the police if we didn’t find you soon.”

  The realization of what had happened to her made her dizzy, and her stomach lurched.

  “Miss Sands?” Manuel asked with trepidation in his voice. He held her up.

  “I’m okay, a bit dizzy is all.” Someone had tried to kill her, or at least hurt her. Thank God she had such a hard head, which was always what Aunt Cara told her. It was too hard for her own good. At that moment Nikki could hear Aunt Cara’s voice in the back of her aching head, screaming at her to get her ass back home and forget about vineyards, wine, hunky men, and especially, trying to solve murders.

  At that moment Derek rushed through the front doors of the office building. He saw her and ran over to her. “Thank God.” He touched her hand. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  “She’s got a bad bang on the cabeza, Señor,” Manuel said, making a fist and lightly thumping the side of his own head.

  “What in the hell happened here? Furthermore, why were you in here?”

  No response. What was she to say to that? Oh, I broke in and was snooping around, seeing if I could find out who’s knocking people off around here. No, she couldn’t say that. Then a second revelation slammed her. Where were the books she’d been copying when someone decided to take her out? If they were still on the copy machine, then Derek would for certain figure out what she’d been doing. But, if they were gone, then that meant that there probably were some dirty happenings going on with the cash around here. If that was the case, Nikki knew it would all be connected to the killer.

  Derek was staring at her. He shook his head. “Never mind, Nancy Drew. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what you’ve been up to.” He put his arm protectively around her. “More important, we need to get you over to the hospital and have that head checked out.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted.

  “He’s right, Miss Sands,” Manuel said. “Someone hit you on the head. You should go to the doctor. It could be dangerous.”

  Nikki thought it sweet that the man should care. He didn’t even really know her.

  “If you don’t go,” Derek said, “I’ll insist you tell me what you were doing in here tonight.”

  Well, there was no choice there, now was there? “Fine,” she replied. “I’ll go. By the way what time is it?” she asked.

  “It’s six-thirty,” Derek said.

  Which meant she’d been unconscious for over two hours.

  “We also need to call the police,” Derek said. “Someone hurt you. I don’t like any of this. I really think you should go back home until it all settles down here.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m not going. Um, my purse is in the copier room, I think.” That wasn’t possible because she hadn’t even brought a purse with her. She’d put her driver’s license and a few bucks in the back pocket of her jeans before leaving that morning, but she needed an excuse to get into the copy room to see if the accounting book was still there.

  “I’ll get it,” Manuel said.

  “No. I can do it.”

  “He can get it for you,” Derek said.

  Damn! “Okay. I have to use the rest room.”

  “I’ll take you,” Derek insisted.

  “I think that’s something I can do on my own,” she replied.

  “I know that. I’m just going to go inside the stalls first and make sure nobody is hiding out.”

  “Oh.”

  They slowly walked to the bathroom, his strong arm a comfort around her. Luckily they passed by the copy room, and Nikki was able to get a peek inside. She didn’t see the accounting book. She also knew that she’d left a couple of them sitting out on Minnie’s desk. She realized she wouldn’t be able to get back in there, but she had the sneaking suspicion that they were probably missing, too.

  “Miss Sands?” Manuel said coming out of the copy room, as Derek went inside the rest room. “There’s no purse in there.”

  “Really? I could’ve sworn that that’s where I left it.”

  Derek came out and told her it was okay to go on in.

  “I’ll look around for it,” Manuel told her.

  Once inside the stall, Nikki sat down on the toilet. She really didn’t have to pee, but it made for a good excuse to get past the copy room. Her head feeling like it was trapped in a vise, she sighed. What to do here? Nikki knew that if there wasn’t a Derek Malveaux standing outside the bathroom door waiting for her, she’d have been out of this place the second she’d found the dead winemaker.

  She gave herself ample time, and then left the rest room. Manuel explained that he still hadn’t found her purse but that he would look a little while longer and then lock up for Derek. Derek thanked him and took Nikki outside. A cold chill enveloped her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. A heavy mist settled on the vineyard. The spookiness of it sent shivers throughout Nikki, along with the thought that she’d been unconscious inside that building by herself for so long.

  Derek’s Range Rover was outside the business office, even though he wasn’t that far from the house. She saw two figures approaching.

  “Thank goodness you found her,” Simon said, Marco at his side. “We were beside ourselves thinking maybe the killer had gotten to you, too.”

  “You poor thing,” Marco said. “What happened to you? You don’t look so good. Your hair, I am so sorry, but it is such a mess.”

  Derek shot him a nasty look.

  “Oh. My apology please. Accept it. No?” Marco said.

  “Thanks for your help,” Derek said to them. He opened the door for Nikki and helped her into t
he SUV. They left his brother and Marco in the dust.

  “They were helping you look for me?” Nikki asked.

  “Believe it or not, they were.”

  Nikki was sure that both Simon and Marco had their motives. She wasn’t buying into their concern whatsoever. “What made you start looking in the first place?” she asked.

  “When I came to the cottage about five to take you to dinner and you weren’t there, I thought maybe you’d gone out for a run and were late. After a half hour of waiting on the cottage porch and you still weren’t back, I started to worry. The farther the sun went down, the more my gut told me that you weren’t out for a jog. I also knew you hadn’t gone into town, because the truck was here. It bugged me, too, that Oliver wasn’t with you. He was waiting at my place earlier before I left to meet you. I put him inside my house, then went over to the cottage.”