“Yup.”
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few seconds.
“What are you doing?” Nikki asked.
“I’m absorbing this information and tuning into my higher self. Intuition can lead us to the answers we seek.”
“Of course,” Nikki said. “And what does your sixth sense scream?”
“Shhh. I’m trying to connect with my spirit guide.”
“Can I ask, who is your spirit guide?”
“It depends. I have a few. Now be quiet.”
Nikki kept her eyes on the road. “Maybe I should get a spirit guide.”
“Would you shut up?”
“That doesn’t seem very spiritual—telling your friend to shut up.”
Simon opened one eye. “Do you want the help of Tsu Lao Lizu, or not?”
“Sure. Whoever that may be.”
“Tsu Lao is an ancestor of our little Violet. He was a healer in the twelfth century, and he has been one of my spirit guides for some time now. He led me to Violet.”
“How come I’m just now hearing about this?”
“A relationship with one’s guides is very, very personal, sweetie. I don’t jabber on about them.”
“Huh. Okay so what’s old Tsu telling you?”
“Give me a minute, and this time I mean be quiet.”
“Fine.” Nikki tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
A few minutes later, with one long sigh, Simon said, “Tsu says that you must look at the obvious. What appears clear to you is not and what isn’t, is.”
“Ooh. That’s helpful. So insightful. I can see how this spirit guide thing really works.”
“Am I sensing sarcasm?”
“Uh, hmmm, okay, yes. Come on, what the hell does that mean? Look at the obvious? No shit. And then what looks to be clear to me isn’t, and what isn’t clear is? Simon, as much as I adore you, where do you come up with this crap?”
“You know I didn’t have to come with you today. I don’t need this abuse.”
“You begged me to come!”
“Fine. Maybe I did. But you owed me. I was shot at your wedding. So let’s talk about what Tsu says. These photos of you in all your splendor, well they are obvious, clear. Now, there are no photos of you after the chaos. Are you sure that Renee took the photos? Where did you get them? Who gave them to you? I doubt Renee did, or else we wouldn’t be going to see her.”
Nikki swallowed hard. “A friend gave them to me.”
“What friend?”
She sighed. “Andrés.”
“Andrés? Smoking hot Spaniard Andrés? Salsa-hot-on-you Andrés? Old flame, luvva, Andrés?”
Nikki shot him an “I’m gonna kill you” look. “First off, we never became lovers. And, yes, that Andrés.”
“Oh, girl.”
“Don’t ‘oh, girl’ me.”
“I only have one question, and one statement.”
“No.”
“Yes, I do. And you are going to answer me. How is it that you are in touch with your former luvva? And don’t you know it is bad business to be talking to the former luvva while you are getting married to my brother?”
“Simon, do you enjoy getting on every one of my nerves?” She went on to explain how she’d come to be back in touch with Andrés. She didn’t add that Andrés had mentioned he still loved her and that she’d been having dreams about him.
“I see.”
“What does that mean?”
“What’s clear here, or what may not be to you, is that . . . Well, let’s start with what is clear. Andrés gave you the photos and told you that Renee took them. What may not be so clear but should be is that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t Renee taking those photos but Andrés! Have you ever thought about that? Maybe your former luvva is feeling jilted, and he decided to take a shot at you, literally.”
Thirty
“YOU are ridiculous,” Nikki said. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with. Andrés doesn’t want me dead. He loves me.”
“What!”
Uh-oh. Cat outta the bag. She sighed. “He told me the other day that he still loves me.”
Simon clucked his tongue. “Dear God, this is so, so, so seedy and Gossip Girl.”
“Right there, right on the last nerve,” she warned. “It’s not like that. I told him that I am in love with Derek and we are getting married. Besides, maybe Andrés did feel jilted, but why would he take out Kenny? And trust me, Andrés is no killer.”
“No. He’s a luvva.” Simon fell into hysterics.
“Here’s her office. No more jokes, no more Tsu Lao or whatever his name is, or any spirit guides for that matter. This part of the discussion is over. Now do you want to help me or not?”
“I’ll help you, but this conversation is far from over.”
Nikki slammed the car door and walked toward the building of Rothschild Publishing. Being irritated didn’t help one with the thinking process. How was she going to incorporate Simon into this little shenanigan? They stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor. Nikki approached the receptionist’s desk. “Hi. I’m here to see Renee Rothschild.”
“Do you have an appointment?” An eclectic looking young woman with blue black hair asked.
“Yes.” She lied. And gave the woman her name.
The woman scanned her appointment book. “I don’t have you down.”
“I know our appointment was today.”
“Let me go and see Ms. Rothschild. I’ll be right back.”
“Tell her that it’s very important.”
The woman walked down the hall without looking back. Nikki hoped that Renee would see her. Knowing Renee, her curiosity as to why Nikki was there would get to her. She was right. A moment later, the receptionist came back and told her that Ms. Rothschild was in her office waiting to see her. She glanced at Simon. “Wait here.”
His jaw dropped but he sat down on the sofa and picked up a magazine.
“This is a surprise,” Renee said, standing up from behind her desk. As usual she was dressed to the nines, tall, tan, and beautiful. Perfection personified. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Nikki tossed the photos onto Renee’s desk. “Can you explain these?”
She slowly picked them up and thumbed through them. “Looks like you on your wedding day.”
“Right. The wedding that wasn’t.”
Renee smiled. “So sorry about all of that.”
“Sure. Thanks. Why were you at the church that day and why were you taking pictures of me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Renee crossed her arms and sat back down in her chair.
“You’re not going to sit there and tell me lies. This is serious, Renee. Simon was shot. He could have been killed. The police think that the bullet was meant for me. Now one of Derek’s friends has been found dead at the winery, and I would think that the police might have some questions to ask you if they knew you were at the church snapping candid shots of me. Especially since it’s a known fact that we’re not exactly BFFs.”
Renee’s lower lip turned down and she placed her hands on her desk. “What friend?”
“What do you mean what friend?”
“What friend of Derek’s was found dead?”
“No one you know. An old college buddy. I want some answers, Renee.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “I was not there. Okay. I wasn’t. I sent a photographer in. One of those types that blends in no matter what. Hell, I figured you’d invited all of Napa and half of Sonoma.”
“Why?”
“I wanted a story.” She shrugged. “I had an idea.”
“What do you mean you had an idea? What kind of idea?”
“I’m not permitted to discuss it,” Renee replied.
“You’re not permitted to talk about it? You send in someone to take photos of me that I’m not aware of, then chaos ensues, you write up your nasty gossipy piece, and now you tell me it has something to do with some i
dea you have and you can’t tell me, but it involves me?”
“Bingo.” Renee pointed at her and winked.
“I think you might want to rethink that, because if you don’t start yapping, you can believe that when I leave here I will be going straight to the police, and I will tell them all about this.”
Renee shrugged. “Go ahead. Threats make my day.”
“You’re a real piece of work,” Nikki said.
“So I’ve been told. I’m busy. Here are your photos.” Renee shoved them back across the desk toward Nikki. “See yourself out. Oh, and tell Derek and Andrés that I send my best.”
Nikki stormed out of her office. Simon’s eyes widened upon seeing her. “We’re leaving.”
He stood and followed her onto the elevator. “I take it that didn’t go too well.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You may want to take a look at this.” He held up a newsletter.
“I don’t want to read anything.” They made it to the bottom floor and stepped out.
“You should read this,” he said.
“Simon. No. I’m not in the mood.”
“Just take a little look at the photo on this page.” He turned over a page on the newsletter that read Publisher’s Insiders at the top.
Nikki stared for a few seconds. “Oh my God.”
“Told you.”
She grabbed his hand and turned around, hitting the up button on the elevator.
Thirty-one
“WHERE did you find this?” Nikki asked, pushing the fifth floor button on the elevator.
“It was on the coffee table with all the reading material.”
“This is huge!”
“Um, I sorta thought so, too,” Simon replied.
The photo in the publishing industry newsletter was of Renee and a group of other industry players, many with drinks in hand. The caption beneath the photo read, “Island party in Coronado, CA during the Publisher’s Insiders conference.” It had everyone’s name listed after that. Next to Renee in both the photo and written word was none other than Kenny Loughton. Kenny, Kenny. Derek’s Kenny. And he was leaning his head on Renee’s shoulder looking rather cozy.
“She knew Kenny, or at least this looks like it, and, oh my God . . .” Nikki said stepping off the elevator and heading toward Renee’s office.
The receptionist stood. “Excuse me. Yoo-hoo. No, no, no. Where are you going?” She trotted in behind Nikki and Simon.
“I left my purse in Ms. Rothschild’s office.”
“You have your purse. It’s on your shoulder,” the woman said.
“Oh, I-I . . .”
Simon stopped and held out his good arm. “Listen here, sister, Ms. Rothschild could very likely be involved in a crime. Or have been involved in one. See my shoulder here all bandaged up. Yeah.” He nodded. “You see it. Well, little Ms. Rothsahootytooty just might be a wee bit responsible for it.”
“I’m calling security,” the woman said.
“Oh no, no. Call the cops for God’s sakes,” Simon said.
Nikki grabbed the good arm. “She’s calling security on us, dumb ass. Now come on.”
“Hey, there is no need for nasty words,” Simon said.
Nikki opened Renee’s office door. She wasn’t there. She stormed back to the receptionist. “Where is she? Where did Renee go?”
The woman shrugged.
“After we leave here we will be in touch with Detective Jonah Robinson of The Sonoma County sherriff’s department. And when my friend told you that Renee might have been involved in a crime, he wasn’t joking. Now you can either tell me where she is, or mix yourself up in something you don’t want to be mixed up in.”
The woman sighed. “She’s on her way to the airport.”
“What?” Nikki shouted.
“Vacation.”
“A vacation?” Nikki said.
“Yes.”
“She didn’t say anything about a vacation when I was in her office.”
The woman shrugged. “All I know is she’s been planning a vacation for a few weeks and that’s where she’s off to. A vacation.”
“Where to? What airline?”
“Don’t know.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t know where she’s going. She’s private about that, and as far as an airline, she’s probably flying in the company jet. That’s all I know.”
“Sure it is.” Nikki stormed over to the elevator, dialed Jonah’s cell number and got his voicemail. She left a message about what she’d learned about Renee and what had occurred. She tried to reach him at the office, to no avail, and she called Alyssa to see if she knew where he was, but she didn’t answer the phone either. “Ugh.” Nikki nearly threw the BlackBerry across the room.
Simon took her hand. “Chill, my sweet cherry pie. Anger is of no use.”
“It feels like it could be of use right now.”
“No. No. What you need is some retail therapy. Tsu Ling is telling me that is the truth.”
Nikki growled at him.
“Very weird when you do that. I have asked you already, no hissing. I’m going to include growling in that request. Now breathe. Good girl.”
“You’re so lucky I let you live.”
“I know, darling. The feeling is mutual.” He kissed her on the cheek as the elevator descended to the bottom floor.
Thirty-two
JONAH finally returned Nikki’s call. She spoke at such a rapid clip that he had to ask her to slow down a few times.
“Relax, Nikki. I’ll come by and get the photos from you and this newsletter. If there seems to be a connection, I can get a hold of the flight manifesto for Renee Rothschild and track her down. If I think she’s somehow connected to Kenny’s death and the shooting at the church.”
“If?” Nikki shouted. “Come on, Jonah. First off, she has motive where I’m concerned. She sees me as a man stealer. When, in fact, Derek was always my man. On top of that, she was photographed with Kenny at a publisher’s conference and they looked cozy.”
“I understand all of that. But just because someone took a photo of them together and it looks like fun and games doesn’t mean that Renee Rothschild had a motive to kill Kenny.”
“But there’s gotta be a reason. I’m sure of it. If you dig a little you’ll find it.”
“Maybe, and I will look into it. But right now, it doesn’t warrant me bringing someone home from a vacation,” Jonah said. “You have to understand that. I will look into all of this. Okay?”
“Fine.” Nikki sighed. “When will you be by for the photos?”
“This afternoon.”
“Good. I have some other information you might want to be aware of that I learned last night at my little soiree.”
“If it’s important, lay it on me now,” he said.
Nikki told him all about the Lily/Jackson/Kenny scandal and the accusation that Savannah had been unfaithful with Kenny.
“Now that’s all good. I will be prying into all of that, too. You can count on it. Good work. What about Derek? What did he find out, if anything, from his pals?”
“He didn’t say much. I don’t think he learned anything new. I also think that he doesn’t want to believe it’s possible one of his friends could be a killer.”
“Right. Not many people want to believe such a thing.”
Nikki told him that she’d see him later and hung up the phone. Simon was still with her. They were pulling into the winery drive. She’d convinced him that there was no time for retail therapy.
“Jonah on it?” Simon asked, still sulking at not getting to go to Saks.
“Says he is. I don’t know. I’m sure he is.”
Simon faced her. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Drive up to the winery and help me get three cases of wine and then we have to take them to Max.”
“Max?” Nikki asked.
“The hair designer.”
“Wha
t! Uh-uh. No way. I told you we weren’t giving him any wine. I paid him two hundred and fifty dollars already.”
Simon pouted. “Nikki, I made a promise. Okay? The man did me a favor, and I know you don’t like your hair, which I think is really totally adorable on you. You look like a little pixie. Like Tinker Bell. Oh my God! Oh my God! New nickname!” He clasped his hands together and looked heavenward. “That’s it. That’s it, Tink.”
Nikki shook her head and pursed her lips together. There was no use fighting it. First it was Goldilocks, then Snow White, and now Tinker Bell. She took a deep breath in and let it out. “We’re giving him the cheapest stuff we have.”
“We don’t do cheap, Tink,” Simon said.
“Right. Come on. No, sit there.” She parked the car around the side of the warehouse. “It’s not like you can carry any cases anyway.”
“That’s not my fault you know. I didn’t ask to go and get my arm practically shot off. But thank you. I need to call Marco and make some plans. We have a date night tonight. We were hoping you and Derek could watch Violet.”
“Of course. But how about your mother and her brute of a husband? Isn’t it hard to come home for any romance with those two lurking around?”
“Tell me about it. We’re working on getting things straightened out. Hasn’t Derek talked to you about it?”
“No. About what?”
“We’re negotiating a settlement price with her to buy out the house and her share in the winery.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, but there’s a problem.”
“What’s the problem?” Nikki asked.
“You.”
“Me? Why?”
“My mother will only agree to be bought out if Derek agrees to have you sign paperwork that gives you no rights to the winery, property, all of it, if there was a divorce or in case of Derek’s death.”
“What? She’s crazy.”
“She wants it all to go to Violet.”
“I don’t like the sound of any of this. Besides Derek will never agree to that. I’m going to be his wife.”
A Toast to Murder Page 15