How to Dine on Killer Wine: A Party-Planning Mystery by Penny Warner

suggested.
    “I doubt it,” Dennis said. “I think he did something to rub her the wrong way. She was always on his case, from the moment they moved here. But still, it wasn’t enough to make him want to kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking. Whoever did this has to be some kindof mental case. I should know. I was always getting threats while I was governor of California. Luckily nothing ever came of them.”
    “It was awful how she died,” KJ said, wincing. “A corkscrew. How bizarre.”
    “Did any of you see anything last night at the wine tasting that seemed unusual?” the detective asked the four of them. “Anything that might have been suspicious?”
    They all shook their heads. Then Nick Madeira turned to his wife. “Wait a minute. Claudette, when you went to the restroom, you said you stopped to admire Rob’s collection and noticed the glass was broken on one of them.”
    “Yes,” Claudette said, “but I didn’t think anything of it.”
    “What time was this?” the detective asked her.
    “Oh goodness, I have no idea. I was in and out several times.” She blushed, talking about her trips to the bathroom. Or was it something else that caused her to color?
    “Was Rob there?”
    “I might have passed him in the hallway. But then, I passed several people on their way to use the facilities.”
    Uh-oh
, I thought, a sinking feeling settling in my gut. While I was glad the focus had temporarily been taken off me, I had a sense Rob was quickly becoming a viable suspect. Naturally his fingerprints would be on the frame. That didn’t mean anything. But would they also be on the Killer Parties corkscrew inside the frame? And on the one used to kill JoAnne Douglas?
    I stood back, taking it all in, and remembered what Brad had taught me about determining who might be a suspect. It had to be someone who had MOM—motive, opportunity, and method. It sounded as if Rob had motive, since he wanted to protect his property from JoAnne’s new bill. He certainly had method—the corkscrew—but why would he use the one in the case? It would point directly to him. Why not one of the corkscrews on the serving tables? Weren’t they strong enough to do the job?
    As for opportunity, everyone at the party had gone down that hallway to the bathroom. And anyone could have stabbed JoAnne under the table. Had she been hiding there all evening? Had she been killed there, or murdered elsewhere and her body dragged to the party table? And when had it happened? Before the party began or after it ended, when fewer people were around? Then again, maybe the killer did it during the party, when everyone was busy drinking, eating, and socializing.
    Hopefully the ME would have a more specific time when she finished her exam.
    Brad was on the phone when I found him a few minutes later. He held up a finger to let me know he’d be done in a minute, so I waited and watched the EMTs place the body into a body bag and transport it to the ambulance. The officers, including Detective Kelly, looked as if they were packing up. Apparently they were done interrogating the witnesses.
    Brad hung up. “What’s up? Learn anything eavesdropping on everyone’s conversations?”
    How well he knew me.
    “A little,” I said. “What about you? Who were you talking to?”
    “Luke.”
    That would be Detective Luke Melvin from the San Francisco Police Department and Brad’s good buddy.
    “What about?”
    “I asked him if he could do a criminal record search on a few of these people.”
    “And?”
    “He said he’d get back to—”
    Brad stopped midsentence. Someone was shouting. I turned to see Rob arguing with Detective Kelly, shaking his head and gesturing with his finger. He kept repeating the words “No! No! I told you!”
    “Either you come to the station for questioning on your own,” Detective Kelly said, “or I’ll take you into custody in handcuffs right now. Is that what you want?”
    Rob shot a frantic look at Kyle, who stood