Murder Uncorked Page 5

  Derek looked over at her. “That’s a really nice thought. Thank you.”

  Nikki could feel the port making her senses buzz in a fuzzy but good way. She was no longer cold, but very warm, and she knew that for everyone’s good, she’d better get the hell out of his house. With Derek in such a vulnerable state, the alcohol doing its job, and his musky cedar scent wafting its way toward her, she was about ready to initiate something she might regret later. “I’d better go. It’s almost dark, and I think that maybe you could use some time alone.”

  He didn’t answer right away. She wondered if his mind was on the same track that hers was, but how could it be? He’d just lost his partner and dear friend. The last thing on his mind would be getting frisky. Plus she had that rule thing about mixing relationships and business. A major no-no.

  “Let me walk you back. And, I’d feel better if Oliver went with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She said it, but she did kind of like the idea of having his large dog sleep in the same room with her.

  “I insist.”

  Derek walked her back over to the guest cottage, Oliver following. “In the morning you can just let him out. He knows his way around here, and he certainly knows where the food bowl is,” Derek said, after checking throughout the cottage.

  “No problem. We’ll be fine.” Nikki closed the door behind him, this time bolting it and not laughing at the idea of doing so as being ridiculous.

  Stilton Cheese & Port

  If you ever find yourself in the position Nikki was just in, where you’ve discovered a dead body, been interrogated by the police, and been offered a spot to warm yourself by the fireplace in the home of a gorgeous, interesting man, you should really ask for a nice bottle of port.

  Port comes only from a region in Portugal called Porto. There are two types of Porto. The first is called a wood port. This type includes Ruby Port, which is dark and fruity, blended from young, non-vintage wines. It’s the least expensive of the two.

  Another wood port is called Tawny Port, which is lighter and more delicate, blended from many vintages, and aged in casks for sometimes up to forty years and longer. This port is moderately priced.

  Finally, the second type of port is Vintage Port. This wine is aged two years in wood and will mature in the bottle over time. It is expensive, but well worth it.

  Port always goes nicely with Stilton cheese, a salty, blue-veined cheese that provides great contrast for the lush, sweet wine. Dark chocolate truffles, crisp pears, and a handful of almonds complement port nicely, too. You can’t go wrong with a port produced by Warre’s or Dow. They’re both excellent producers of this tasty treat.

  Chapter 5

  Derek did his best showing Nikki around the vineyard, explaining the operations of the winery. She could see the pain in his face; he’d changed in a matter of twenty-four hours. She could feel his sorrow in the way he walked and talked.

  They were now inside a barreling room, walking between row upon row of wooden barrels. It wouldn’t be hard to get drunk off the fumes alone inside the room.

  “Not all wines are meant to be aged once they come out of the barrel and into the bottle.” Derek said, rubbing his hand on one of the barrels. “It’s a misconception that wine will improve if it sits in the bottle longer. In reality, only ten percent of wine improves while it’s in the bottle. The rest of our wines should be enjoyed within a year of purchase.”

  Nikki nodded. She’d noticed that today he was all business. She’d told him when he’d come by the guest cottage that morning that she’d be fine, roaming around on her own, and that when he found time and felt up to it, he could give her a tour. But he’d insisted on getting it out of the way. He’d said that he needed to keep things functioning. Showing her the ropes kept him on task, and Gabriel would have expected nothing less of him.

  “So you age the wines in the barrels?”

  “Yep.”>

  She noticed that his eyes looked especially blue today. He wore a caramel-colored turtleneck sweater with jeans. She liked his down-to-earth style, not something she’d expected from a vineyard estate owner and multimillionaire.

  “We use oak barrels because there’s a biochemical interchange of phenol from the oak in the aging of the wine, which adds more flavor to the final product. There’s a difference between American barrels and French barrels, in that American barrels have a narrow belly compared to the French, which can hold as much as 3.3 gallons more wine. It all depends on the type of flavor you’re going for.”

  “These labels here, I assume they’re the type of wine in the barrel?” Nikki asked, trying hard to focus on Derek’s words, but having a difficult time not allowing lustful thoughts, as well as morbid ones from yesterday’s after-math, to distract her. The combination of the two had her all tied up in knots, and she was wishing she hadn’t had a half a pot of coffee that morning. Her nerves were abuzz.

  “They are. If they’re a combination of grapes, say it’s a mix of Cabernet, Merlot, and Syrah grapes. We list them by the content of which is the strongest grape in the barrel. See here.” He pointed to another label on the barrel. “This defines the wine. We list the appellation, which is of course Napa Valley, then the varietal composition, which for this wine is Chardonnay. The alcohol content is 13.9 percent. The list continues with the pH, the brix at harvest, which means the sugar content, what the residual sugar is, how many months the wine stays in the oak, the case production, and, finally, the winemaker.” Derek turned his face away from hers for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” She knew he wasn’t, but she couldn’t help asking.

  “It’s hard. This was where Gabriel’s work came to fruition. This row we’re walking down is where he was putting together some new and interesting wines. He liked to experiment. You see, we sell a good share of our grapes to other wineries, and they in turn use their vintners to make the wine they desire. It’s how we make the bulk of our money. But what you see on this row here comes from the grapes we don’t sell off, which is about ten percent, and that ten percent happens to be the best of the best on the vineyard.”

  “Sort of like the cream of the crop,” she said. Derek smiled, and her stomach did that flip-flop thing again. It was good to see him smile; even better that she’d caused him to do so.

  “Exactly, the cream of the crop. I’ve got plenty of people in this valley wanting to purchase grapes off that particular section of my land, but no matter what the offer, I keep saying no. The fact is, that small percentage of our grapes is what sets us apart from all the others here in wine country. The grapes that come from that section are grown in loam soil. Loam soil is the perfect mixture of silt, sand, and clay. It drains well and produces supreme grapes, which in turn obviously produce superb wines. Every vintner wants to grow grapes from loam soil.”

  “Jealousy runs thick, I take it?” They walked through the large wooden doors of the barreling room and found themselves outside. Bright, warm sunshine hit their faces, even though the air was still quite cool. It was nearing noon. The sweet smell of wet soil and fruit filled the air. It was fresh, lush, and nearly intoxicating.

  “I suppose it’s possible that there are some folks out there jealous of what we have here at Malveaux. And, I’m sure I’ve been the topic of gossip once or twice around town.”

  The soles of their shoes squeaked slightly against the damp soil. She was glad she’d brought her Keds. “Do you think its possible that one of the locals with a bad case of jealousy could’ve murdered Gabriel?”

  “I’ve thought a lot about that, and, yes, I think that’s possible. Gabriel was a renowned winemaker. He won awards continuously through the years, and I don’t like saying this because he was my friend, but Gabriel could be somewhat of a braggart. He didn’t hesitate in letting on to people about who he was and how many awards he’d won. That kind of thing.”

  “Is there anyone in particular you can think of that this might have really bothered?” Nikki asked, thinking sh
e could be on to something here.

  Derek nodded. “It’s a far reach because the man I’m thinking of appears to be a good man. He kind of keeps to himself, is a hard worker. He’s liked around town. I don’t know him well, though. But I do know that he and Gabriel had this competitive thing going.”

  “Who is it?”

  “His name is Andrés Fernandez. He’s from Spain and works down at Spaniards’ Crest Estate. The owners are a group of Spanish businessmen, most of whom reside in Europe. They produce small but elegant production wines around the world. They own and operate some of the best wineries, especially in Spain and various locations in Europe. Andrés runs the show here in Napa.”

  “What was the rivalry between Gabriel and Andrés?”

  “I’m not certain. He and Gabriel got into it at a winemakers’ dinner a few months ago. I also heard that they got into it again not that long ago at the opening of Andrés’ sister’s new restaurant. I couldn’t make the event, and Gabriel didn’t want to talk about it afterward, saying it was just hot air between two winemakers. I didn’t push it. It was none of my business. Plus, I’m not one for gossip. Gabriel had his issues, and there were things that I didn’t like about my friend, like the way he used women, at least that was in my opinion. He claimed that the women he dated understood his rules, and everyone was happy with that situation. I don’t know about that. He seemed to have a way of mesmerizing women, people in general. He was very charming that way, and there were also a lot of other wonderful things about him. I suppose we’re all a bit like that. Complicated.”

  “Hmmm. Yes. Most of us do seem complicated. With this Andrés, do you think whatever the problem between them was could be enough to motivate him to murder Gabriel?”

  Derek shrugged. “It’s no secret that both men didn’t care for one another. Andrés doesn’t strike me as the murdering type, maybe a recluse, but not a murderer.”

  Nikki made a mental note of this, knowing she’d have to go visit Andrés Fernandez.

  “I have another thought for you in regard to your special ten-percent lot of grapes.”

  “I’m all ears.” He smiled.

  And blue eyes, and strong shoulders, and kissable lips. Get a grip. “Here goes. With Gabriel gone, so is the production of your premier wines. Face it, you’ve told me several times now that he was one of the world’s renowned winemakers. To replace him will be no easy task. You’ll lose at least a year’s worth of profit from your premier wines, maybe more, and thus have to consider selling that special ten percent of grapes off to the various wineries around town.”

  Derek stopped walking for a minute and faced her. “You’re good. And thanks for reminding me of the road I have ahead of me in replacing Gabriel,” he said.

  She winced at his bluntness. “I’m sorry. I guess I was rattling off theories.”

  “No, it’s all right. The truth hurts. Not only is my good friend gone, I now have to find someone who can make wines the way he did, if I want to maintain the reputation of Malveaux and not become merely a wine-box winery.”

  “I doubt that would ever happen.”

  “I know. I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’ve got to say, your theory is a decent one. You should’ve studied law. Where did you learn so much about this stuff?”

  They started walking again, heading for the tasting room. “What I’m saying is mainly common sense. But when I did those few episodes of my terrible TV show, I researched a lot. I may be a bad actress, but I am a good researcher. I was also raised by my aunt, who used to be a homicide detective for the LAPD. She just retired a couple of weeks ago. I used to scour all her books and go over cases with her, when she’d bring work home. It always fascinated me.”

  “Why didn’t you go into law enforcement?”

  “I guess I always wanted to be an actress.”

  “Really?”

  “Why do you say it like that?” She crossed her arms in front of her, as they walked up to the front door of the tasting room. He held the door open for her, and she nodded her thanks.

  “I don’t know. You don’t strike me as the actress type.”

  “You must’ve seen my show,” she replied sarcastically.

  “Like I told you over dinner the other night, TV isn’t my thing. Occasionally, I’ll rent a movie. By the time I get in at night and wind down, I want to go to bed, or I’ll read a bit. It used to be that Gabriel and I, and sometimes Minnie, our accountant—who you’ll meet at the party tonight—would get together and mix up some dinner, drink good wine, and visit, but not that often.”

  “You’re not a real social type, then?”

  He shook his head. “No time. This is the tasting room. We won’t open today because of the party, but we usually open at lunchtime. You’ll see that we have tables out on the patio for people who want to bring picnic lunches and taste wines. We also have a restaurant here on the property, which is really a bistro-type of place, where we serve mainly cheeses, fruits, pastas, salads and sandwiches, and an amazing French onion soup. We only open for lunch. Part of your job will be overseeing the restaurant. There’s a full-time manager there, but you’ll be her boss, which she probably won’t care for.” He shrugged. “But that’s the way it goes.”

  “Do I get to meet her today?”

  “You will tonight.”

  “I’m going to meet everyone tonight, aren’t I?”

  He nodded. “I won’t lie to you, the manager of the bistro is my ex-wife, Meredith. It was part of the settlement that she stay on here, since she’s the one who came up with the bistro idea, anyway.”

  “You’re not putting me in charge out of spite, are you?” Nikki didn’t think he was that kind of man, but one never knew.

  “No. Actually, I suspect that Meredith is lying about the profits and the wine inventory.”

  “She couldn’t get that much from it, could she?”

  “Enough for her weekly spa treatments and a few vacations a year. We do a good business, but even if the Malveaux Estate makes millions, it doesn’t give anyone the right to steal. A percentage of the profits from the bistro go to the Leukemia Foundation. We also have our Wine of the Month Club, which takes in quite a bit in proceeds for the foundation. Minnie, my accountant, who I mentioned earlier, oversees that venture. Hopefully Minnie sticks with me. She’s got this dream of going to Tuscany and she mentions it often. But I need her to watch over Meredith. If Meredith is doing something sneaky with the bistro profits, it’s not a matter of stealing from me or the estate, but from the very ill people I want to help.”

  Nikki nodded. She could see his point, and she had to agree. If his ex was stealing money from the bistro, she was both coldhearted and calculating. “What about your accountant? Has she found anything off in the accounts? Have you asked her to look into it?”

  “She hasn’t found anything concrete yet, but Minnie agrees with me that something isn’t adding up. I’m hoping that with new pairs of eyes and ears around here, someone with a fresh perspective can help figure it out.” Derek’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his jeans pocket and flipped it open. “Hello? Yes. Okay, I see. Yes, I’ll be right down.” He flipped shut the phone. “I’m sorry. That was the police. They need me to come down to the station and answer some questions.”

  “Do you want me to come along?”

  “No, no. I feel bad enough already. Last night I wanted to take you to dinner, and since that didn’t work out, I thought we’d have lunch today. But, I don’t know how long I’ll be tied up, and when I get back, I’ll have to make sure we’re set for tonight’s party. Take a rain check?”

  “Of course. You do what you need to do. Mind if I hang in here and look around?”

  “No. Why don’t you stop by my place around four-thirty? If I have everything for the festivities all sewn up, we can take a quick walk down to the vines and have a glass of wine before getting ready for the party.”

  “Sounds good.” He waved at her, and she watched him leave. With Derek gone, she to
ok notice of the tasting room and all its beauty. The architecture itself was amazing, with rounded walls and arches that led from the sitting room into the area where the wine was poured. Fantastic art by Miguel Nuñez adorned the walls, showing the gilded golden beauty of the women in his paintings. Mocha-colored leather chairs covered in vine-and-grape-tapestry patterned seat cushions were grouped around wrought-iron and wooden tables. This room alone she could live in.

  As she wandered around appreciating the art and the room, an eerie sensation came over her. She glanced all around the room, which was dead silent. That same sensation of being watched that she’d had the other day, right before discovering Gabriel’s body, caused her adrenaline to start pumping. Nikki told herself it was mere paranoia. She moved toward the door to leave. As she did, she heard a loud commotion from the back room, where she presumed the wines were kept. She and Derek hadn’t ventured that far back into the room. She’d been working her way toward taking a look at it, when the feeling had come over her. Goose bumps snaked down along her arms.