“All I can say is we got a good tip from a trustworthy source, and that’s that. Read the paper tonight, and you’ll get your information. I’ve got to take my suspect down and book him.”
Nikki rolled her eyes at her and lowered her voice. “Use your head, Jeanine. This man was set up. I’d put money on it. Your murders aren’t over, and even if they are, you let the killer get off scot-free by arresting an innocent man.”
Jeanine shoved her hands into her uniform pants pockets and swayed back and forth from one foot to the other. “Really? Do you know something that you haven’t told us, Miss Sands?”
“Of course not.” Maybe a few things, but . . . Nikki heard the child in the house cry out again. She turned toward the house. “It’s a gut feeling.”
“I can appreciate that, and believe me, I understand where you’re coming from. You had a great cop show there for a while. I am really sorry it was canceled, like I told you. But the facts are, Miss Sands, you are not a bona fide police officer. That’s my job.”
“You didn’t do your job, then.”
Jeanine Wiley turned red in the face. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take Mr. Sanchez down to the station. A word of advice. Leave the police work to the real police. And, I lied, your show wasn’t that good. I was being nice.” Jeanine walked away.
Nikki called out after her. “What about Manuel’s children?”
“CPS will be here soon. Mr. Malveaux is in there with them now.”
Child Protective Services. A rush of memory filled her mind, of her childhood best friend—the one she’d shared the best-friends’ charm with—being taken away by them, and for Nikki never to see her again. “Oh, no,” she muttered as she walked into Manuel’s house, spotting Derek sitting on the couch with Manuel’s children.
The little girl was sitting prim and proper, her hands in her lap—very stoic. Nikki recognized that behavior, and her heart hurt even worse for this child, even more so than for her little brother who was huddled in the corner of the sofa crying and wailing in obvious pain and confusion. At least for him, he was in touch with his feelings and could let them out. His sister, on the other hand, had probably taken over the mothering role in the house after her mother’s death and was now trying to remain strong for her baby brother. Nikki shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she tried desperately to hold them back. Her crying would not help these children.
Derek’s face was drawn and as pained as her heart felt.
“It can’t be true,” she whispered.
He shrugged and shook his head. Nikki could see that something needed to be done here and fast.
“Hi, kids,” she said in a soft voice. The boy buried his face deeper into the pillow, muffling his cries. The girl looked at her suspiciously. “I’m Nikki, and I’m a friend of your daddy’s.”
“You’re here to take us away,” the little girl said dully. “Like they took my daddy away. Like God took my mommy away.”
Nikki knelt down next to the sofa and took the girl’s icy cold hands from her lap, holding them in her own. “Oh, no. No, I’m not going to take you away, and I promise your daddy will come home, too.”
Derek gave her a sharp look.
“I’m here to make you and your brother pancakes. You like pancakes, don’t you?”
The boy peeked out from the pillow, his sobs becoming whimpers. He nodded his head.
“They’re his favorite,” his sister replied.
“They are? Hmmm, I thought so. Have you ever had chocolate chip pancakes?”
This even got a smile out of the girl. “No. I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so, huh? Well, if you don’t think so, then you’ve never had them, because I guarantee that you would remember chocolate chip pancakes.”
“All we have here is cereal, and it’s kind of stale.”
“I can solve that,” Derek chimed in. “I happen to have chocolate chips and all the necessary ingredients to make pancakes over at my place.”
“Why, Mr. Malveaux, that would be so kind of you. You don’t by chance have any bacon or sausage? I bet two beautiful, smart, growing children like these two, would love some bacon or sausage with their chocolate chip pancakes.”
“You know what? I do have some bacon at home. I’ll be right back with it.” Derek stood up, mouthing the words “thank you,” to her. She smiled back.
While Derek was gone, she sat down on the couch in between the two children. “You know what? You both know my name, but I don’t know yours. Don’t tell me.” She pointed to the girl. “You must be Snow White?” The girl shook her head, a slight smile spreading on her lips. “Cinderella?”
“Nope.”
“Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.”
“Nah, her name is Catalina,” the little boy said, looking up from the pillows.
“That was my next guess,” Nikki replied, elated that he’d spoken to her.
“Mateo,” Catalina cried out.
“Ha. Now I know both of your names. Okay, let’s get ready to make some chocolate chip pancakes.” She jumped off the couch and took both of the children by the hand.
“When is my daddy coming home?” Mateo asked.
Nikki lifted the small boy up onto the kitchen counter. She looked him straight in his large brown eyes. “That’s a good question, and I wish I knew the answer.” Mateo started to tear up. Nikki rubbed his arms through his pajamas. “But I know that your daddy loves you very much, and he will be back.”
Mateo’s lower lip trembled as he stifled his sobs. “What if he never comes back? Like my mama. What if he’s gone forever, like Mama?”
Nikki pulled the child close to her, hugging him. “I promise, he’ll be back. I don’t make promises that I can’t keep, okay?”
“Okay.”
Thankfully at that moment Derek walked through the door with the goodies in hand, and for an hour the four of them cooked and ate, and even laughed some. The time wound into the eight o’clock hour. Nikki heard a car pull up in front of Manuel’s house. She gave Derek a knowing look; he returned it. This was not going to be easy.
Catalina looked up from the picture she was drawing with Nikki. “Who’s that?” she said, her voice laced with fear.
Nikki swallowed hard. “Listen, Catalina, you are going to have to go and spend some time with some very nice people for a little while.”
Nikki hugged Catalina. She raised her eyebrows at Derek.
He pulled Mateo up into his lap. A car door outside the house slammed shut.
A moment later a knock at the door caused all four of them to turn and look. Derek set Mateo on the chair next to him and got up to answer it. Nikki noticed that Catalina had gone back to the same stance she’d taken when Nikki first walked through the door—the ever-so-courageous child. Once again, Nikki wanted to cry.
Mateo ran over to her and held onto her leg.
The woman at the door was tall, thin and middle-aged, with cropped dark hair, and blue eyes accentuated by tiny lines, which made her appear friendly and caring. She wore a sincere smile and in a calming voice said, “Hello, I’m Mrs. Stein. You must be Mateo and Catalina.”
Neither child said a word. Mateo held Nikki’s leg tighter.
Finally, Catalina said, “We don’t want to go with you. We want to stay right here.”
Mrs. Stein sat down at the table across from Catalina and Nikki. “I know you don’t, but I’m sorry, you have to.” Catalina looked at Nikki with imploring eyes.
Derek picked her up. “Catalina, it’s only for a little while.” Catalina shook her head. “No. I want to stay here and wait for my daddy.” With the mention of their father, Mateo started crying again.
“I’m really, really sorry. It’s best if we do this quickly,” Mrs. Stein said, directing her words at Nikki and Derek.
Nikki wanted so badly to keep the children here. She didn’t know the protocol, but she couldn’t let them go without saying something. “Can’t they stay with me, or with us?” Her e
yes pleaded back and forth between Derek and Mrs. Stein. The word us slipped out, but it didn’t matter. Nikki was willing to say anything to spare the children any further pain.
“I’m afraid not. At least not until the paperwork is processed, and then you’ll have to contact their social worker and see what kind of arrangements you can work out with him.” She pulled two cards from her purse. “This is my card and Mr. Martin’s, who will be their social worker. We really should be going. Can you help?”
The last thing Nikki wanted to do was help put either one of these children in the back of Mrs. Stein’s car. She froze on the chair. Derek set Catalina down, taking her by the hand. He lifted Mateo up and began to walk out. Catalina followed obediently, but first she turned and looked at Nikki, an unmistakable sadness in her eyes. Nikki got up and came over to her. “Wait. Can I have a hug?” she asked.
Catalina put her small arms around Nikki’s neck. “You promised to bring my daddy home, remember?”
Nikki nodded, fighting back the tears. “I remember. I cross my heart.” She walked out with them and stood outside the car door as Mrs. Stein started the engine, watching the children, tears in everyone’s eyes. As they drove away, Nikki held her breath, knowing that the promise she made had to be kept. She would find the real killer and see to it that Manuel Sanchez came home to his precious children.
Chapter 17
Hours after Manuel’s arrest, Nikki dressed in black pants and silk blouse, ready for Gabriel’s funeral. She and Derek hadn’t spoken much after Manuel had been carted away, and his children put in the backseat of Mrs. Stein’s car. There wasn’t much either of them could say. She could see that he was visibly shaken and as distressed as she was. He did, however, ask her to dinner again for the evening—some where quiet where they could talk. She said she was game, even though she was sure that what he wanted to talk to her about had to do with her snoop session in the business office. She’d have to come clean. She didn’t want to keep lying to Derek.
She didn’t know if she should be going to the funeral or not, but her instincts told her it was advisable. She wanted to watch the faces of the mourners, see if she could pick out anything strange among them. Who knew? A gesture or an overheard remark could lead her down the right path.
Derek left early for the ceremony, wanting to go over the details with the pastor. Nikki could’ve driven the truck, but opted to ask Simon and Marco for a ride, hoping to discover if they were harboring a secret.
At twenty minutes before one o’clock Nikki found herself scrunched up in the backseat of Simon’s Mercedes convertible with Marco driving.
“It is not believable about that worker,” Marco said.
“Manuel?” Nikki replied.
“You knew his name?” Simon butted in.
“Yes. I met him the other day. Derek introduced us.”
Marco turned around and faced Nikki. “He did? Why would he do that? Fashion designers would not mix with the backstage helpers. Why would the datore di lavoro associate with the commoner?”
“He means the boss man, and I can tell you why my brother would do that, because that’s Derek. Always trying to be a do-gooder. Whatever floats your boat. Marco, watch the road and quit looking at me,” Simon scolded, then glanced over at his lover. “We know what floats your boat, now don’t we?”
“You have such a . . . how do you say? Silly bone?”
“Funny bone,” Nikki corrected Marco.
“So what is he like? The killer?” Simon asked.
“I don’t know him that well. I’d only met him a couple of times. He seems like a nice man.” Nikki was not about to let on to these two knuckleheads her theory that the police had the wrong man behind bars. Hell, for all she knew they were the real killers.
“I heard he had a diary and wrote some dreadful things about the industry and Malveaux Estate, and how he blamed the industry for his wife’s death,” Simon said.
“Please. Where did you hear such a foolish thing? The man probably could not read or spell. How could he write in a journal?” Marco asked.
Nikki clenched her hands together. She agreed with Marco that it was unlikely Manuel kept a journal, but not for the reasons he so ignorantly touted. Fact is, most men don’t keep diaries. “Where did you hear that?” Nikki said in the nicest voice she could muster, pouring on the Southern charm that still existed deep down.
“I have my ways,” Simon grumbled, obviously not happy that his lover had chastised him. “We do know people who run in the media circles.”
Tara Beckenroe’s face flashed across Nikki’s mind.
“No, it was not a journal. I have heard it was some paintings, some very violent and dark artwork that the man did that was the cause for the polizia to look onto him. You know what I hear? I hear that he has a past in Mexico. Yes. It is true. I hear that he killed someone there,” Marco said.
“Where did you guys hear all of this?” Nikki could barely contain herself, listening to this rubbish slip off their tongues.
“Darling, one doesn’t live in Napa Valley for as long as I have without having friends in high places. We would be fools to reveal our connections to you. But, I can say that they’re reliable,” Simon replied. “I do have to add, though, that I am a bit shocked by the turn of events. I was terribly suspicious of Derek, even though he’s my brother and all.”
“Half brother,” Marco chimed in.
“Right. Half brother, but really I did think he did it. Everyone knows that Meredith and Gabriel were fooling around, and Derek can be a bit jealous at times. I was confused, though, as to why he’d knock off his accountant.”
“No need to worry about it any longer,” Marco said, grabbing Simon’s hand and winking at him. “Our reliable sources say the right man is in the jail.”
“I’m sure,” Nikki said, deciding that the only way to get some info out of these two was to join their lowly ranks. She put on her most syrupy voice. “So, what do you two know about Meredith?”
“Tut, tut. Not a wee bit jealous, are you?” Simon asked.
“Should I be?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But she’s not the only one who’s left her heart in Derek’s bedroom, if you know what I mean,” Simon said. “He’s broken many hearts in his day.”
“I’m not concerned with any hearts other than Meredith’s.”
“Meredith is still pining for Derek, it’s obvious. She mopes around the house like a lovesick teenager. Too bad for her. If she’d only stayed home and eaten bonbons while my brother traveled on business, she might still be doing the hanky-panky with him. But nope, she had to flaunt herself all over town. She’s a trampy one. At least she could’ve been discreet about her infidelity. C’est la vie. And, that thing with Cal Sumner is a fraud. He might not think so, but it’s so obvious. She’s recently mentioned to me how she wanted to get back together with Derek.”
Nikki tightened the scarf around her head as Marco sped up, remembering the conversation she’d overheard between Meredith and Patrice. Were the two women in fact lovers? What was their plan concerning Derek all about? She wished Marco would put the top up, but she was just along for the ride—and a bit of a fact-, or at the very least, a rumor-finding session.
“Anyway, Meredith messed up real bad with my brother. He’s not the forgiving kind. But, she was smart because she grabbed onto my mother like a bee on honey, and they’ve been close pals now for a few years. No one can figure that one out, certainly not me.”
“Where did she come from?”
“Meredith? You know, I don’t really know. I think I remember something about her being from a small town in Nebraska or Kansas, or one of those out-of-the-way, no-life-type places.”
“She is not so elegant, I think, as she pretends to be. I do not see the class in her to be married to a Malveaux,” Marco interrupted, reaching over to take Simon’s hand.
“My mother adores her, though, and pushed hard for Derek and Meredith to become an item. I think that her beauty blinde
d Derek, and the fact that our dad had died only a year earlier, caused him to seek out love in all the wrong places. It was hard on all of us when Daddy died, and Derek fell for Meredith’s wiles. I could never understand it. Anyone could see she was a small-town, poor girl from the time she came here. She’s since tried desperately to earn her stripes among the rich and famous.”
Nikki wondered if they were digging at her. So what if they were? Let them get their jollies. This was the most she’d been able to collect on Meredith, and she was going with it. She only hoped they were telling her the truth and not playing her. Nikki shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. “What about her parents? They didn’t come to the wedding?”
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