Pamela’s jaw dropped.
“You know, for a time I started to wonder what it was that made you and Susan such pals; you seemed so nice, the opposite of her. Was I wrong, or what?” Nikki was right on that account—birds of a feather do flock together, and Susan and Pamela had been two of the same kind. Pamela may have loved Antoine, but she was a killer, exactly like Susan was.
Pamela stood, hands on hips. “What in the hell? You should be halfway to rigor mortis by now.”
“Sorry.” Nikki grabbed for her wineglass on the side table. “Would you look at that? I don’t wear that shade of lipstick, but it looks like you do. Oops, I must’ve picked up your glass when you went to get the crackers and cheese. Sorry.”
“What? Oh my God, Oh my God.” Pamela wrapped her hands around her neck, and stood looking around as if something or someone in the room would save her.
Nikki laughed. “I figured you might try and poison me, too, since that’s your modus operandi, but I fooled you.”
Pamela screamed at her with a sound of rage, and lunged for Nikki, hitting her in the stomach. Nikki fell to the ground on her side. Pamela scrambled to her feet and started to come at Nikki with her hands at the ready to lock around Nikki’s neck. Nikki reacted by hooking her leg around Pamela’s and kicking her in the calf. Pamela stumbled. It gave Nikki enough time to stand up. She ducked her head low and dove straight for Pamela’s gut, pushing her to the ground and knocking her down.
Pamela flailed her arms and hands, hitting Nikki repeatedly on the back. Pamela being the larger woman, she was able to roll them both onto their sides, and she did manage to get her hands wrapped around Nikki’s neck. As Nikki struggled to remove Pamela’s hands, she felt like she was beginning to lose consciousness, and a dismal thought crossed her mind that maybe Pamela would win. Then the voice of angels rang out.
“Marco, I don’t think it’s female mud wrestling. Get her.” It was Simon.
Marco jumped on Pamela, and both he and Simon pulled her off of Nikki, and then pushed her away from her. Nikki sat up to catch her breath. Marco held Pamela’s arms back behind her.
Pamela yelled at her. “You can’t prove a damn thing other than we had a silly little catfight between us.”
Nikki stood up and straightened herself. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She reached for her purse and pulled out the tape recorder. “It’s all right here.” She waved the recorder in Pamela’s face.
“Oh, no, you have to get me to a hospital. The poison.”
“Oh, please. I lied. I wasn’t sure if you’d put poison in the glass, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.” She then explained what she’d done to further elude Pamela’s plans. “I’m not a killer. Even if you may not deserve to live, and a judge will determine that, I wouldn’t murder anyone.”
Nikki dialed the police on her cell phone.
They arrived and took Pamela into custody. Detective McCall stayed behind and questioned Nikki, along with the boys. As they were getting ready to leave, Marty and Kristof showed up, aghast at what had occurred in their absence.
Marty’s face scrunched up in a look of despair. He’d been duped again. Nikki wondered if he’d fallen in love with Pamela. She felt sorry for him.
Kristof sat down at the bottom of the staircase, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. They were best friends.”
“They were both murderers. Pamela murdered Susan for killing her husband, Antoine,” Nikki said.
“Is that what Pamela told you? That Susan killed Antoine?” he asked.
“That’s what she claims.”
“That’s preposterous. I can’t believe any of this. I am happy though to know that it wasn’t Isabel who murdered Susan. I never thought her capable of doing such a thing,” Kristof said.
“It might have been decent of you to let her know that when she was first arrested and accused, especially since you were so close not that long ago,” Nikki replied.
Marty’s head snapped around and he glared at Kristof. Oh yeah, little boy bad had some explaining to do to dear old dad.
A crew of investigators showed up to search through the castle. They woke Sara who came ambling in through the French doors off the patio that led to the guesthouse. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked, waving her cane in the air.
“It’s okay, Auntie, they caught the real killer,” Kristof said. “Isabel Fernandez didn’t do it.”
“The real killer? I’m not surprised that Miss Fernandez didn’t kill that bimbo you married for about five minutes. Who did it? That other bimbo who was hanging around here? What’s her name Martha? Marcy?”
“Pamela,” Marty replied.
“Right. Dumb hussy, too. Who figured it out?” She looked at Nikki, and then pointed at her. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re a smart cookie. I know.”
Nikki nodded.
“How did you know, Auntie?” Kristof asked.
“I used to write mysteries, remember?” She smiled at Nikki who returned the smile.
Nikki remained baffled at how Sara Waltman had written a mystery similar to the real life one that had gone on. Or at least there were the similar aspects. Nikki shrugged it off. After all, fact was stranger than fiction.
That thought running through her mind, she glanced at the portrait of Ben Waltman. The eyes didn’t seem so lifelike to her any longer.
“Old bastard,” Sara said.
“What?” Nikki asked.
Sara pointed to the portrait with her cane. “He woke me up from my nap.”
Everyone in the room was now looking at Sara.
“He did. Said that he was on his way to a better place, tired of watching over me and the rest of this family. Said we were all hopeless anyway. I told him good riddance, and that’s when I came in here to see what the hell was going on.”
“You were dreaming, Aunt Sara,” Kristof said. “Great Grandpa does not haunt this place.”
At that moment the portrait on the wall slipped and tilted to the side. The room went silent for a minute. “Sure he doesn’t,” Sara replied. “You told me you were leaving, you old coot, now get on with it.”
A light breeze traveled through the family room, and then the air settled into stillness. Sara winked at Nikki. Nikki said a silent “thank you” to Ben Waltman, not knowing whether or not he had had anything to do with helping her out that afternoon, but she certainly didn’t want him haunting her, so a thank you was indeed in order. And, at that moment, so was a full glass of wine.
Chapter 25
“Red or white?” Nikki asked Isabel as she perused the wine selection at Grapes, while Isabel made dinner for herself, Nikki, and Andrés, who was, as usual, running late.
“Let’s start with champagne,” Isabel replied.
“Excellent idea,” Nikki said. “Should we wait for Andrés?”
They simultaneously said, “Nah.” Then laughed together.
“I missed that so much in this week that I never thought would end,” Isabel said.
“What? Wine?”
“No. Laughing with you, and thinking same thoughts and having you here with me.” Isabel set a tray of Gruyère toasts with caramelized onions and prosciutto in the oven. “And I have missed this.” She glanced around her restaurant that she’d closed for the evening so they could have a peaceful dinner. The media had been hounding Isabel since her release the day before, but Andrés had hired a handful of security guards and the reporters were getting the picture, although both women knew they’d be back. They were probably busy doing research on Pamela and talking with former lingerie models to get the real scoop on Pamela Leiland. Or pestering Carmen Ferrino, which Nikki truly hoped they weren’t, but it was inevitable. Carmen had nothing to do with helping Pamela murder Susan.
Pamela knew when the police took her in and interrogated her that she was sunk. She copped to the entire thing, plus it was on Nikki’s handy dandy recorder. Pamela admitted that the day she’d visited Carmen at the pesticide company she found
a few moments alone in the warehouse by claiming she needed to use the restroom. That’s when she was able to pocket the poison.
“And I have missed cooking, especially for people I love.”
“You must be talking about me,” Andrés said, walking through the front door. He came over to Isabel and wrapped his arms around her. “I know I’ve seen you a million times since yesterday, but I can’t stop hugging you, ’Mana.” He kissed the top of her head.
Nikki wiped away happy tears. Andrés looked hot. There was no other way to think it or say it. He had the life spark back in his eyes and the smile on his face, and the love he felt for his baby sister made him beautiful.
He let Isabel go and reached for Nikki, whom he pulled into his arms. Ooh, and he smelled good, too. She had to banish these thoughts. For goodness’ sakes, Derek was finally expressing interest and seemed to be reciprocating her feelings, and now she was lusting after the Latin lover. If she didn’t know herself better, she’d think she was a sex-starved, love-starved, horny woman. Well, it had been a while. Stop it.
“Thanks for everything you did,” Andrés said.
“No need to thank me. Now, we’ve waited for you to open this champagne.” She pulled away from him and winked at Isabel as she picked up the bottle of champagne from the counter that she’d started to open right before he’d sauntered in.
“Certainly.” He took the bottle from her hands, his fingers grazing hers. He popped the cork and poured a glass for her. He licked the remnants of bubbles spilling over the sides of the flute.
“Oh, boy, is it hot in here, or what?” Isabel fanned herself with her hands and grabbed a flute, shoving it in front of Andrés. He laughed and Nikki tried to ignore the comment.
Champagne poured, Andrés made a toast. “To Isabel and to freedom.”
“To Isabel,” Nikki said.
They clinked their glasses together and drank champagne late into the night, until they were all a bit too looped to do anything but walk to Isabel’s house, where they crashed for the night.
When Nikki woke the next morning she was on the couch with Andrés arm wrapped around her. A vague memory of watching a romantic comedy came over her, and although they hadn’t kissed—because Nikki was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep—she was also pretty sure they’d come close.
With both Andrés and Isabel still asleep, she quietly grabbed her things and walked back to the restaurant, where she got in her car and drove back to her place. She’d have to tell Andrés that there was no future for the two of them. She was in love with Derek. Wasn’t she? And they were having dinner together that night, and Nikki had a feeling that what was brewing between them was going to come to a head. Andrés was simply sweet and handsome and just a friend. Only a friend.
Gruyère Toasts with Prosciutto,
Caramelized Onions,
and Sherry with Simi Sonoma
County Chardonnay
This is a simple dish to be enjoyed with the best of friends. Even though Nikki, Isabel, and Andrés chose to open champagne to celebrate Isabel’s freedom, this appetizer also pairs well with a bottle of Simi Sonoma County Chardonnay. The fruit used in this Chardonnay comes from the Carneros and Sonoma’s Russian River regions. This wine has a creamy, buttery texture enhanced with flavors of pineapple, toffee, pear, and a touch of cinnamon. It’s aged in French oak, which gives it that big bold California Chardonnay flavor.
1⁄4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 large onions, thinly sliced
1⁄4 cup fino sherry
11⁄2 tsp caraway seeds, lightly toasted
Salt and pepper
12 slices rye bread or French baguette (depending on
personal taste)
1⁄2 cup whole-grain mustard
10 oz Gruyère cheese, shredded.
12-oz package of prosciutto
Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil in each of 2 large skillets. Add half of the onions to each skillet and cook over moderately low heat until nicely browned, stirring occasionally. Scrape all the onions into one skillet. Stir in the sherry and caraway seeds and cook until the sherry is completely absorbed, about 1 minute. Season with salt and pepper.
Preheat oven to 400°. Lightly spread 1 side of each slice of bread with the mustard and arrange on a large baking sheet. Top with the onions, cheese, and prosciutto. Season with pepper.
Bake the open-faced sandwiches for 6 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and the edges of the bread are toasted. Transfer the toasts to a cutting board and cut each into 4 triangles.
Chapter 26
For the last time that week, Nikki and Derek had taken a rain check on dinner and they were finally able to get it together. Nikki had avoided speaking with Andrés all day. She knew she’d played the tease and wasn’t too happy with herself. She knew she’d have to call him in the morning and talk about the night before. Hopefully, he was on the same page as she was and would chalk up their cuddling to drunken antics.
“I can’t believe we’re finally having dinner sans interruptions from the boys or anyone else for that matter,” Nikki said, shaking Andrés from her mind.
“Including your alter ego,” Derek replied.
Nikki puckered her lips into a faux frown and scrunched her eyes into a look of mock devilishness. “You don’t mean my evil twin, Nancy Drew?”
“Yeah, she’s the one. Except I’d say you’re the evil half. If I remember from the couple of Nancy Drew books I read, she was pretty sweet; and you? I’m not sure I’d call you sweet.”
“Gee, thanks.” She laughed and took a bite of her dinner, finishing it up. They were at the Glen Ellen Inn, which defined romance with its warm colors of peach, burgundy, and gold, all lit up by candlelight and the fireplace in the corner, next to where they were seated. “We’re finally alone and I’m waiting with bated breath to hear what it is you wanted to talk to me about all week.”
Before he answered her, Derek motioned for the waiter and ordered strawberry shortcake along with a dessert wine for both of them. “I like to celebrate with dessert.”
“You’re going to make me wait until they bring dessert, aren’t you?”
He nodded, a sly grin and a glint in his baby blues. “You know it.”
“Fine. I’m a patient woman.” Minutes later their dessert arrived. Nikki took a bite. “Excellent. Now will you tell me?”
“I’ve decided to build a boutique hotel and spa at the vineyard. What do you think?” Derek asked.
Nikki set the fork back down on her plate. “A hotel and spa?”
“Mhhm.” Derek brought a finger up to the side of her mouth, touching it gently. “You got a little whipped cream there.”
The heat rose in Nikki, flowing through her body. “Thanks,” she replied in a whisper.
“Yes. It was actually Simon and Marcos’ idea, but I like it, and I think you’re a natural to help out with this. You have great taste and I trust you.”
“Wow. That sounds wonderful.”
“I think so, too. We’ll have about thirty rooms and the spa will be great. You know, with massages and luxury body treatments with warm grapeseed oils and soaking baths with the essence of grapes.”
“Massages? That does sound good.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Derek brought his wine glass up for a toast. Nikki watched as he set the glass back down. What was that look on his face? Melancholy? Frustration?
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. I was thinking that I have a special bottle of wine in my cellar saved for a celebration.”
“Oh, well, this is an excellent wine.”
“It is.” He nodded and smiled warmly at her. “Besides we can save that bottle for another special day.” He sighed and glanced away for a second.
She wondered what weighed so heavily on his heart.
He looked over at her, taking his free hand and grasping hers with a slight squeeze. He again raised his glass to toast. “To the Malveaux Inn and Spa and
great massages.”
Chapter 27
A knock on Nikki’s door catapulted her off the sofa. Was it Derek? It had to be. He’d left her so confused, especially after all the flirting over dinner and the build up from being with him in the city. How much more could a woman take? She opened it. There stood Andrés. He stormed in, a look of intensity on his face. He almost appeared dangerous, but Nikki knew better.
“We have to talk,” he said.
“Okay. You’re right, we do,” she replied. She knew she should’ve called him earlier and laid it all out on the table.
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