Silenced By Syrah

Table of Contents

 

 

Praise for Murder Uncorked

“All the sparkle, complexity, and romance of a fine champagne. This mystery is one you’ll want to read right through with a bottle of good wine and some of the author’s tasty canapés at your side. I loved it and look forward to more installments.”
—
Nancy Fairbanks

 

“A superb amateur sleuth tale starring an upbeat heroine and a fabulous prime suspect.”—
Midwest Book Review

 

“A perfect blend of murder and page-turning fiction!”

—
Holly Jacobs

 

“The first in a series that has great potential . . . The Napa Valley is a lush setting, and foodies will drink in the wine lore and will savor the recipes for tasty tidbits.”

MURDER UNCORKED
MURDER BY THE GLASS
SILENCED BY SYRAH

SADDLED WITH TROUBLE

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

 

SILENCED BY SYRAH

 

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / March 2007

Copyright © 2007 by Michele Scott.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

 

eISBN : 978-0-425-21452-7

 

BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks
belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

Nikki Sands was going to die. She squirmed, knowing that her eyes were dark with fear. Her stomach tightened into a knot, making her feel like she was about to heave, as a barely audible sound escaped from her lips—like a faint cry for help. She did the only thing a woman in her position could. She smiled. The two men she had feelings for walked toward her: Derek Malveaux, her boss, and her maybe, kind of, boyfriend, Andrés Fernandez.

She snapped her attention back to the group of people in front of her, pouring another taste of wine for each of them and recommending a recipe for an appetizer that would match the wine. This time the wine was the Malveaux Estate Syrah, also known as Shiraz. “The nice thing about the Syrah grape,” she said to some of the many people she’d spoken to that day, “is that it pairs well with just about every kind of food.” She received nods and praises from the folks tasting the wines. “The chef has paired the Syrah with what is called a Pissaladiere, which is a French style white pizza. Feel free to take a copy of the recipe.”

Nikki pointed to a pile of cards with various recipes created for the day’s event by the vineyard’s chef, Georges Debussey. She tried hard not to look at Derek or Andrés, who had now joined the small audience. Hopefully the damn tremor in her voice was unnoticeable.

With voiced approval from the group, she finished up. “I’m sorry to say, ladies and gentlemen, that’s all I have. If you would like to order any of the wines you’ve tasted here today, please go into the gift shop, where you’ll find a table with the discount prices. We appreciate your coming out to Malveaux and hope you will enjoy the wines. If you’d like to go back and retaste any of today’s wines, feel free; and don’t forget, the spa and hotel are offering half-price packages this weekend for accommodations and services.”

“And,” Derek Malveaux added as he and Andrés neared the table, “remember that tonight is the opening of Georges on the Vineyard. We’ll look forward to having you.” He flashed his brilliant smile at them, his blue eyes lighting up his face.

The group walked through the courtyard of the new Malveaux Inn and Spa, set on the back forty of the Malveaux Estate and Winery where Derek, the owner of the vineyard, had been convinced by his brother Simon to build the mission-style boutique hotel and spa. They had been in operation for a little over a month now, but the opening of the restaurant had been behind schedule due to interior decorating conflicts.

Derek faced Nikki. “It looks to be going well,” he said. “I ran into Andrés here and told him that I knew where you were.” He gave Andrés a friendly, guy kind of pat on the shoulder.

Nikki smiled, knowing the quiver at the corner of her lips had to be giving her away. They’re just men, not anything out of the norm here. But talk about opposites. And, because she was either weird, demented, or probably a combination, and truth be told it had been quite some time since she’d shared her bed with anyone—not that just anyone would do—she craved both of them. What the hell was wrong with her? Derek was as blond and golden as if he had leaped straight from a Tommy Bahama ad, and about the most down-to-earth man she’d ever met. Andrés, well, “luscious” would fit nicely. Passionate, artistic, sensually dark all the way to the brown, almost black eyes that the Spaniard, at that moment, had turned her way. Not good. How to weigh charming and grounded against luscious and creative? “Great. So you decided to stop by, then?” Nikki asked.

“I did. I want to be certain we were still planning on dinner
esta noche
. I couldn’t reach you by cell, and I have to go take care of some business in the city for a couple of hours,” Andrés said. “So, when I saw Derek finishing up a tour of the hotel, I asked him to help me find you.”

“I had it turned off, my cell, because I’m working. I can’t take calls when I’m doing a tasting.” Did she sound like a dope or what?
Confidence. Exude confidence
. “Yes, yes. We are on for tonight. You betcha. I know it’ll be wonderful. Georges Debussey is a master. I’ve eaten at his place in San Francisco, and the food is divine. And the cookbook he’s been working on with Derek is going to be great.” She looked at Derek. “I took notes on the wine information for the book. Georges is a little nutty.” She shrugged. Right now she got the distinct feeling that she was looking a little cuckoo herself, rattling on and on, but she couldn’t stop. She had to fill the air with something. “And the poor designer. I caught her walking to the car last week in tears because he wanted something different for the drapes and she just let it all go on me. Telling me she didn’t think she could do it, and that her kid had been sick with the flu, and that she’d have to work overtime to get it all done. I thought she was going to kill him.”
Take a breath.
“In fact, I have a meeting with Georges at the restaurant here in a little while, because I got a message that he wanted me to come into the kitchen and talk about the wines and what they would work with tonight. I just hope he doesn’t yell at me. With that temper of his . . .”
Shut up. Shut up. For God’s sakes quit
rambling
. She realized both men were watching her as if she’d landed from another planet. She couldn’t help wondering about it herself.

The band that Derek hired for the event started playing and saved Nikki. Ah yes, the fluted sounds of Peruvian music filled the air. She reminded herself to breathe again, and this time did so. “Pretty music.”

“It is,” Derek said and looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt. “Well, it’s nice to have seen you, Andrés. It looks like you’ll be here tonight, so I’m sure I’ll get a chance to visit later on. Right now I need to see how things are running over at the spa.”

Andrés shook Derek’s hand. “Yes. Thank you for leading me to this beautiful woman.”

Derek nodded at the two of them. “Nice work, Nikki. Thanks.”

She watched him walk away. If that wasn’t weird . . . Sure he was only her boss, but he’d also been her friend over the last couple of years since she’d come to work as the Malveaux Estate Winery manager, and his assistant. Then there were those moments when their eyes lingered a little too long on each other, or a joke told between them insinuated something. Something ever so slight, but it was there. Wasn’t it? Could it all be a matter of hallucination on her part? Maybe Derek Malveaux simply enjoyed the art of flirting. She’d given him plenty of opportunities, and he hadn’t grabbed one. But when she’d reached out to Andrés, he’d not only taken it, he’d run with it!

Andrés cleared his throat. “This looks to be going nicely. Are you having a good time?”

She shrugged. “It’s work, you know.”

“Uh-huh. And, Derek? He’s only your boss?”

“What does that mean? Of course, he’s only my boss.”