Michele Scott
Corked by Cabernet
The fifth book in the Wine Lover's Mystery series, 2009
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.”