Corked by Cabernet (27 page)

“You and your theories. I’m a cop.”

“You know what I mean by bad ‘boy.’”

“I suppose so. But hey, I like your friend and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

There was a softness in his voice that she’d never heard before. The sincerity rang true and she hoped that her matchmaking would pay off for all involved.

“You were good with her little boy, too.” Nikki finished loading the dishwasher and walked over to the cupboard to get out Ollie’s food. He heard her opening the can and moved at a rate much faster than his usual drag-along self.

“I like kids. Actually I love kids.”

“Robinson?”

“Yeah, Sands?”

“You okay?” She dumped the food in the bowl, and tossed the can. Robinson didn’t sound right.

“I’m fine. I . . .” He let out a long sigh. “I had a little boy once. His name was Neil. After Shaq. You know, Shaquille O’Neil? I’m a fan.”

“Oh.” Nikki didn’t know what to say. She’d had no idea and she had a feeling Robinson was verging into territory she wasn’t sure she wanted to enter with him.

“I lost him when he was about the same age that Petie is. I lost him and his mom. Five years ago. To a car accident.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, Sands. I don’t talk about it much, but after playing with Petie last night and meeting his mom, I don’t know what happened, but like I said, I haven’t felt that good in a long time. It reminded me of what living is really all about. All this other stuff don’t mean so much without a real life. I guess I have my work, and I do a decent job, but that’s about all I have now. And, you know, I’m starting to remember that isn’t what really counts. It’s family. And it’s friends. You know it is. That’s why you’re who you are and why you do the things you do for people. You get that.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” She’d never thought about it, but she supposed she did get that—sort of. She didn’t have a close family, other than Aunt Cara. But she had her friends and they were as much a family as any could be. And of course, she had Derek.

“I guess that’s it then. I wanted to say thanks and I’ll be by sometime this morning. I want to speak with Juan Gonzales and Ruben Pearlman again before they leave about their dealings with Yamimoto. I’d also like to talk with the nephew some more.”

“Okay. Good. I have something for you that I forgot to give you last night.” She hated to shift gears on him after what he’d unloaded on her, but she knew he’d already shifted. He didn’t want to talk about the tragedy in his past any further. She told him about the note she’d dug out of the garbage and her idea that maybe it was the one Iwao had thought Juan had sent to him. She also filled him in on what she’d learned about Kurt and Jen’s possible motives.

“Nice work. I’ve already got a jump-start on Jen Yamimoto. I want to be sure he flew in from Japan. When I called the number for him there to tell him what had happened to his uncle, I got a voicemail message in Japanese. I left a message to have him call, but I didn’t tell him about his uncle, so he must have heard it elsewhere. I’ll come on by and get that note from you in a bit. I think Jen’s probably clean, though. I’m looking deep into this Gonzales and Pearlman angle. Those dudes lost a lot of money with Yamimoto. Money can be a great motive to kill.”

“Right. I don’t know about Ruben Pearlman, but as you’ve reminded me before, that’s why you’re the real detective. I’m sitting down to write out some of my impressions and some of the things I’ve learned over the last few days.”

“You’re good, Sands. On all levels, you’re good.”

She hung up the phone with a different feeling about Robinson. She’d liked him and his quirkiness before learning of his wife and child, but now she thought she might just understand this guarded detective.

NIKKI didn’t know how this investigation would end. She was stumped, and from everything she could tell, so was Robinson, although he seemed convinced that Ruben and Juan were involved. Maybe Juan was, but she simply could not imagine Ruben having anything to do with the murders.

She called Derek’s cell and got no answer so she turned on The Weather Channel. It sounded like things were going to be clearing up back East and planes might actually start flying. Her fingers were crossed that Derek was in the air and on his way back home to her.

“Ollie, want to go for a run?” Ollie didn’t move off the couch. “Not interested today, huh?” That was fine. She should check in with Alan and see where everyone was and if he wanted to set up a time when he and Derek could talk further about their negotiations.

Nikki decided to take a run on her own first, this time without the revolting trash-hunting activity on the side. Once out in the fresh air, she felt a real sadness—almost an emptiness. How had she failed to really help Robinson? The one time when she’d actually been
asked
to help solve a crime and she hadn’t been able to put two and two together. Dammit. There were too many pieces and none of them fit.

Running down through the Chardonnay grapes, she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced back to see Kurt Kensington. She didn’t like that one bit. She mentally scolded Ollie for preferring a nap over jogging. Perhaps she should have had the same mentality?

“Howdy,” Kurt said, coming up next to her, breathing hard and sweating.

“Hi.”

“Sansi told all of us that we could head out today. Guess he wants to do a lunch first. You know about that?”

“No. I planned to meet with him after my run. See if I could track him down. Did you enjoy the time you had here?” She didn’t know what to ask him. The only real encounter she’d had with him was during the dream board session, when she’d determined that he was a no-good creep. His bizarre application only strengthened the possibility that he could very well have killed two people—brutally. She knew he was capable of killing.

“I did. I’ve learned a lot, believe it or not.”

“Good.”
Oh, Lord, get me out of here.
She kept trying to keep distance between them but he had no problem keeping up with her.

“I know you don’t like me. I know you think I’m crazy. I’m not, though.”

Sure, that was reassuring. “I did think your dream board was strange.” What else was she going to say? The guy was crazy!

“Maybe so. I do have a dark sense of humor. I went through some bad stuff in Iraq.”

She kept on running.

“I’m not a bad man, Nikki. I’m not. I’m who I say I am. I thought when I came here that I wanted to write the scary stuff. The violence and murder and horror, because that’s all I’ve lived over the last few years.”

What was he trying to tell her? Adrenaline pumped through her, not just from the run, but because she was trying to carry on a conversation with someone who was at best a lunatic and at worst a killer. Fear coursed through her. Kurt was a big, strong guy and she was out here alone with him.

“I know my poster was dumb. In bad taste. War warps your mind.”

Great, now he was admitting that he was demented?

“I don’t want that in my life any longer. These past few days, I’ve realized that I want to spread light, not darkness.”

“That’s good stuff.” Why was this guy not running out of breath? She was.

He grabbed her arm and she jolted back.

“Hey!” she yelled.

“Sorry. I need to talk to someone.”

Why her? “I thought that’s what we were doing,” Nikki said.

“We were talking, but I don’t know if you’re really listening and I want your attention.”

This was not good. “I’m all ears. I promise.”

“I read these graphic novels and many times they’re violent,” he said.

“Right.” She edged away from him.

“I think I could write a book with the intensity of the graphic novels, but have it be all about good, forgiveness, and love and getting the things in life you want.”

“Like a children’s book?” Yes, he was looney tunes. Completely!

“I could do that.”

“Yes, you could. I encourage you and wish you well on all your endeavors.” Nikki started up the pace again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I really do need to talk with Alan.”

“No. I understand. I didn’t want to leave here without talking to you and letting you know that I’m like everyone else—totally normal. Or at least I want to be.”

“Thank you for sharing. Have a safe trip home if I don’t see you.” She ran faster than usual and looked back to see if he was going to keep running with her. He’d stopped and seemed to be watching her. Kurt seriously unnerved her. Maybe he hadn’t murdered Iwao or Mizuki, or maybe he had. Either way, having him run alongside her had not been pleasant.

Up at the café, she took out her cell phone and saw she had voicemail. “Hello, Nikki. It’s Hayden. My dad was wondering if he could get some of that wine you served last night to take home with us. If so, you can drop it by my room. Thanks.”

She hung up the phone and went into the café to grab a water bottle. Nikki was pleased that Alan had liked the wine enough to ask to take some with him. She hated going into the warehouse, but she’d do it for Alan.

“Hello, Bellissima.”

Nikki swung around to see Marco coming into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“I’m preparing the lunch for everyone who is leaving today from the S.E.E. group.”

“Where’s Simon?”

“Did I hear someone call my name?” Simon came dancing through the archway into the kitchen. “Look what I have.” Simon’s bubbly, singsong voice made Nikki grin. He placed a handful of photos of babies up on the refrigerator. “I’m visualizing, and guess what? We have an appointment with a private adoption agency. Tomorrow!”

“This is wonderful.” Marco gave him a hug.

“Group hug!” Simon demanded.

Nikki put her arms around the two of them and squeezed. “That’s awesome, guys.”

They talked for a few minutes about the agency and how Simon found them.

“Can I get one of you to help me get a box of wine down for Alan? He wants to take some of the Merlot home.”

“Sure, hon. You keep chopping there, sweetie,” he told Marco.

“Chop, chop.”

They started walking out of the kitchen when Marco called Simon back. He held out Simon’s cell phone. “The agency,” Marco said.

Simon turned to Nikki. “Hang on a second. I’ll be right there.”

This thing about Marco and Simon adopting seemed to be the real deal. Nikki could see it now. They’d adopt a baby girl, name her Diamond or something else bizarre like celebrities did. Then they’d deck the poor child out in designer duds made by Prada, or whoever else had the marketing brilliance to sell onesies for the price of a Benjamin. They’d feed her organics only and stuff good energy and all that vibration nonsense into the kid’s brain. Hmmm. Maybe they could adopt Nikki instead? It really didn’t sound like too bad of a life.

She flipped on the lights inside the chilly warehouse. It smelled like aged oak and fruit. The blend itself was intoxicating and Nikki took in a big whiff of it as she always did when she came in here. She closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths. Breaths to slow down . . . good stuff. Oh, man, maybe Alan Sansi and all his preaching were getting to her. She supposed she could concede there was something to all of it, especially the relaxation parts. She could get into that.

Nikki found the row she needed. There it was. The Merlot. Good stuff. She could see why Alan wanted to take some home. Looked like Alan wanted to do one of two things—either go out of this thing in style, or get totally shitfaced and forget any of this ever happened.

She’d need the ladder to get to the case she wanted. She walked to the end of the row and slid the ladder down. A light shone through a vent in the roof. There were birds flying around it. If she didn’t come in here often, this place might kind of spook her. It was huge, quiet, and cold.

Nikki made her way up about five steps on the ladder and grabbed the edge of the box to pull it out. Good thing she’d been doing some of that Core Power stuff that was all the rage these days. Nikki had gone from one exercise program to the next. She had a bad habit of watching infomercials and then ordering whatever the latest craze might be. But the Core Power yoga started after going to a class with Simon one day. She’d liked it and it had made her pretty darn strong.

When she had the box in her arms, she started to work her way slowly down the rungs. What happened next was a blur, like watercolors swirled together. Not a pretty scene, but a rather dark blend of reds, browns, and black that made Nikki think of death, blood, and murder.

She found herself on the ground. Wine bottles crashing around her, glass shattering everywhere. A bottle hit her on the side of her cheek, too close to her eye. What the hell . . . ? How had this happened?

And then she saw him—a hooded figure all in black, standing over her, a rope pulled taut in his hand. Nikki tried to move but he’d kicked the ladder on top of her, right onto her stomach. It almost felt like something had punctured her in the gut and she knew she was about to meet her maker.