Murder Uncorked (6 page)

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Authors: Michele Scott

BOOK: Murder Uncorked
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Derek laughed. “The tea not strong enough for you?”
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s very good, but after this afternoon, and your Napa Valley police force interrogation, I think I’d like something a bit stronger.”
“Can’t blame you. Why don’t you follow me in and warm yourself by the fire.”
That did sound very inviting. His place was as cozy as her guest cottage, but in a very masculine way. The furniture was done in distressed leathers and warm woods, the walls were painted a golden tone, and a Navajo rug blanketed the hardwood floor in front of the fire. Nikki fell into an oversized chaise. Oliver plunked himself in front of the fireplace and wagged his tail at her. Derek handed her an aperitif glass. She looked at the tawny colored contents and couldn’t help but ask, “Port?”
“I’m going against the grain here. Port, as you know, is usually an after-dinner dessert drink, but in this case, something with a higher alcohol content might do you some good.”
“Hmmm.” She took a sip. The slight sweetness of the port added to the warmth it sent down into her stomach.
“I am a Napa Valley vineyard owner, and for me to serve you something from Portugal is not exactly protocol.”
“It’s good. You can’t tell me that all you drink is California wines.”
“Shhh. No, of course not. It’d be ridiculous of me to do that. There’s so much to experience in wines. Gabriel understood that.” Derek walked over to a corkboard in the kitchen and pulled a photograph from it. He came back over to Nikki and handed it to her.
“You and Gabriel?” There was Derek, his arm around the other man in a brotherly fashion, along with a slew of other folks. A golden-haired, attractive woman was on the other side of Gabriel. They were all covered in dirt, everyone holding a glass of wine up into the air. Gabriel had a brooding, Italian look about him, with hooded dark eyes and a gaunt face, his nose pronounced and very Roman. He was thin, but manly looking. His smile appeared honest and bright.
“At last year’s crop planting.”
“Is the woman his girlfriend? They look pretty cozy,” Nikki remarked, noticing that the woman hung onto Gabriel tightly.”
“Tara Beckenroe? No.” Derek kind of laughed. “Well, I shouldn’t say no. I think in Tara’s mind they were pretty close at the time. They spent a few nights together, and Tara became kind of obsessive. She gets that way when she decides to go after something.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” Nikki said.
“In regard to Tara? Yeah. Let’s just say she doesn’t play coy. She’s a barracuda, and she’s made a few attempts at getting to me. I’m not interested. Gabriel showed her some interest, and she was all over it. But Gabriel wasn’t the kind of man a woman could tie down easily. Tara is the kind of woman who likes to get her man. Gabriel liked to
date
a lot of women. She wasn’t exactly thrilled when he told her to back off.”
“Looks like a quite a celebration.” Nikki flapped the picture in a slight motion.
“We were celebrating the planting of grapes that we both felt could revolutionize California dessert wines.”
“You two were close?”
Derek nodded. “We are, I mean. . . .” He took a sip from his port, obviously not knowing how to finish the sentence. He set his glass down on the end table next to Nikki, giving her a saddened half smile. “Gabriel was getting closer and closer with each season to making a dessert wine that almost copied the exact taste of wines from the Porto area in Portugal. We’d developed a neutral grape brandy along with a couple of grape varietals that, once mixed together, would have been a phenomenon. But now . . .” Derek brought his glass up to his lips and took a slow sip.
“Did you know Gabriel for a long time?”
“A while. He came to the vineyard about a decade ago, about five years before my dad died. I liked him right away. He was funny, with a real stereotypical Italian macho attitude. I got a kick out of him. He was a great chef, too. He didn’t know anyone here, and I met him in a wine shop down the road when I was delivering some wines. That was back before Malveaux Wines really took off, and I was doing a lot of the footwork myself.”
“Admirable.”
“No. Not really. Hard work is how it gets done. My brother, really my half brother, doesn’t even come close to understanding that concept. But he’s another subject. Anyway, I overheard Gabriel talking to the shop owner, asking why he didn’t carry any Italian wines. I laughed at that, because being in Napa at a smaller wine shop, it was obvious why there were no Italian wines there. Gabriel took my laughter as an insult. But it got us talking about wines, and we wound up corking a bottle of mine and drinking it. He bragged, claiming that he could make a better bottle than what I’d shared with him, and again I laughed. He said that he’d prove it. So I took him up on it and brought him here. Before long, our old winemaker who never got along well with my dad was out, and Gabriel was in. I worked alongside him for a bit, but then I was needed more on the business end of things when my dad began showing his age and grew quite fragile.”
“I’m so sorry. It sounds like you’ve had quite a bit of loss in your life.”
Derek set his glass down on one of the wooden tables and walked back into his kitchen, which overlooked the family room. His back was to her as he opened the refrigerator. “I think we all have.”
She heard the deep emotion in his voice, signifying to her that he was choked up. In such a short time, the story of Derek Malveaux and his vineyard had grown quite complex.
Derek came back out of the kitchen after a few moments, refilled her glass, and set down a tray of blue-and-green veined cheeses, walnuts, and pear slices. “I’d hoped to invite you out for a nice dinner, but I don’t think I’m up to it. I don’t know what to do about tomorrow night.”
She reached across him for a piece of cheese, her arm grazing his chest. “Please, don’t worry about me and dinner. This is perfect. The day has gone by quickly. I suppose when there’s a murder involved . . . Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound crass.”
“You didn’t. You didn’t even know Gabriel. I’m sorry that you’re here under these circumstances.” He grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl in the tray.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m still interested in the job, that is, if you still want to consider me.”
“Nothing has changed. In fact, more than ever, I’m going to need some help around here. Gabriel was one of the finest winemakers in the country, not to mention my friend. It’ll be hard for me to concentrate, and I’ll need a pair of eyes to watch over my shoulder.”
Nikki wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she decided to let it go for the time being. “You mentioned something about what to do concerning tomorrow night. Are you referring to the benefit?”
He nodded. “I don’t see how I can cancel. It’s not only to raise money for the Leukemia Foundation, but it’s an annual tribute to my mother’s memory. She passed away from the disease when I was a kid. I hold the event yearly, and we raise a great deal of money. It’s also when we release the new vintages for the season. Gabriel usually does it. He makes quite a toast.” Derek brought his hands up to his face. “This is very hard.”
“No worries. I understand. I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here, but I think you should go forward with the benefit. From what you’ve told me about Gabriel, that’s what he would’ve wanted, and in a way, you can extend the idea of celebrating his life by showing off his latest creations.”
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.

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