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Page 11


  Nikki wanted to ask Pamela more about Jennifer, but Marty entered the room with Sara draped on one arm and a bottle of wine in his other hand.

  “Well, Nikki. How nice to see you. It’s not our best moment in time, but your company is always a pleasure.”

  “Thank you, Marty. I came by to give the family my condolences. I’m not certain I can make it to the services tomorrow.”

  “That’s understandable. Would you stay and have dinner with us?”

  “Oh, no, thank you.”

  “You will stay for some hors d’oeuvres, young lady, and tell us all about how you solved that murder last year over at the Malveaux place,” Sara insisted.

  Nikki really didn’t want to travel down that road again. She hadn’t solved anything, the answers from Gabriel’s murder had fallen into her lap, and she hated when people glorified her.

  Marty must’ve sensed her uneasiness. “Leave her alone, Aunt Sara. You read all about it in the papers. I’m sure she’s had her fill of that bad business. Besides, who wants to talk about murder at a time like this, after what’s happened here?”

  Sara wobbled over to the sofa that Nikki was seated on and planted herself next to her. “I do.”

  “Of course you do,” Marty interrupted. “She loves mysteries, even tried her hand at writing them years ago. They weren’t half bad either. Agatha Christie-type, but a bit more contemporary.”

  “Contemporary?” Sara said. “Marty, is that your word for sexy? If so, it sucks. I wrote some damn good sex scenes and told a good tale. I only published two of the books and then the publisher went kaput and I stopped writing. Took the wind right out of my sails.”

  “Really? Do you have any copies?” Nikki asked, amused.

  “Go upstairs into my room, Marty, and get one from the library.”

  Marty did as his aunt ordered and a few minutes later he was back with a worn, torn paperback.

  “Van Waltman?” Nikki asked running her finger across the name on the cover.

  “My publisher thought that writing under a man’s name in those days might garner me more fans. Dumb shit. Should’ve kept my own name. You read it and tell me what you think.”

  “Aunt Sara, eventually we’ll have to wash your mouth out with soap,” Marty said.

  The ninety-year-old Sara gave him the finger.

  “I will.” Nikki thanked them and excused herself.

  Pamela and Sara said goodbye and Nikki didn’t think she got the same vibe coming from Sara toward Pamela that she had about Susan. However, maybe they were being civil for the guest. Nikki doubted it. Sara Waltman did not appear to be the type to bite her tongue about anything or anyone.

  “I heard that Isabel Fernandez was arrested for Susan’s murder,” Marty said when they reached the door. “I know that you two are friends. I really hope she didn’t kill Susan.”

  “Marty, I can assure you that Isabel did not murder Susan.”

  “She does appear to be a nice woman. I’d hate to think that was the case. I know Susan could be terrible to people. Pamela and I have discussed it, but she also had a charming, sweet side to her. That was the side my son fell in love with, and, frankly, so did we as a family. If your friend Isabel didn’t do it, I hope they find out who did.”

  “They will.” Nikki wanted to tell him that actually she would find the killer, but knew how that might sound. She waved the paperback at him and started to walk to her car. She couldn’t help wondering about his last statement about the family loving Susan, especially since Nikki knew for a fact that there was one Waltman family member who felt no love lost for Susan.

  Chapter 12

  Nikki was rounding the shrubbery in front of the Waltman Castle on her way to her car, when she heard a faint sound beyond the bushes. Dusk was setting in and the backdrop of the darkening sky behind the Gothic castle sent her adrenaline into speed zone. The place was kinda spooky in that lighting and the tale of Ben Waltman had a haunting effect at that particular moment. He of the dark eyes that looked to be watching her inside the castle sitting room. It didn’t help knowing that a murder had taken place on the grounds only days earlier.

  Her mind was quickly put at ease about ghosts and lurking murderers, when she heard quiet laughter followed by more sounds of movement beyond the bushes. Curiosity grabbed hold and Nikki needed to take a peek. She crept over to the hedge and eased down so that she could look through to the goings on at the pool. Well, now, what did we have here? A little rendezvous poolside? Kristof and Deirdre playing footsie in the Jacuzzi and drinking champagne. Shameful. Nikki’s stomach churned with nausea. Two exes making eyes at each other only days after the bride’s murder, did not, in her book, bode well.

  She inched herself forward to get a bit closer, trying to remain in the shadows of the trees. What were they talking about?

  Nikki thought she heard Deirdre saying something about how in time it’d be all right. What did she mean? That he would get over Susan? That in time it would be okay for them to show that they’re together again? That in time, they’d definitely be free from being suspected of murder, because poor Isabel would fry for killing the bride?

  Damn. The pool pump came on, making it impossible to hear them at all any longer. Only their body language to work with now. They weren’t exactly playing footsie like she thought at first. They were seated on opposite ends of the Jacuzzi, across from each other. But, they were drinking champagne. Odd choice of drinks, considering. Hell, for that matter, everyone at the Waltman Castle was drinking champagne, and the only one who sort of came up with an excuse for it was Pamela. This was getting stranger by the minute. Was Deirdre’s ploy about getting Kristof back into her life? Or was her motive about revenge? The old saying about a woman scorned flashed through Nikki’s mind. Could Miss All-American Pie have set out to get even with the newlyweds? Maybe she had plans to take Kristof out, too. Or maybe, she had plans of wheedling her way back into his life and getting her hands on the Waltman loot. Whatever the reasons those two were spending time hot tubbing together, it made Nikki strongly second guess either one of them as innocent.

  If Deirdre wanted to get hot and heavy again with Kristof rather than get even, did she kill Susan to get her out of the way and frame Isabel, knowing how brutally Susan had treated Isabel? Or did Deirdre know about Kristof and Isabel’s fling and saw an opportunity to get both Susan and Isabel out of the picture?

  She had to get closer and hear what they were saying. The pool pump turned off and Nikki made it around to the pool house, only feet away from where the Jacuzzi was.

  “I can’t believe that Isabel Fernandez could be guilty of murder,” Deirdre said. “I don’t really know her, but I’ve been in her restaurant and she was a sweet lady.”

  “I don’t know her very well either,” Kristof remarked.

  What a liar.

  “But I can’t imagine her killing Susan either. I don’t want to believe it. Had I thought anyone could’ve murdered Susan, it would’ve been her sister, Jennifer. From the time she showed up here the other day to even after Susan was found, she bad-mouthed her sister and gave Susan nothing but grief,” Kristof said. “But the police say that they have some good evidence against Isabel.”

  “I noticed that Jennifer and Susan didn’t seem to get along too well. What was that all about?”

  “I asked Susan, but she said that their relationship has always been strained. The two of them didn’t grow up in the best situation and Susan made her success on her own. I wonder if Jennifer is in Susan’s will? God, I don’t know if Susan even had a will. We never talked about those things. Why would we? We had a future together. That’s what we talked about.”

  “Did Jennifer’s boyfriend go back to the city with her?”

  “That goof, Paulo? Yeah, he’s there at the condo with her. I hate to think of them going through Susan’s things, but neither Pamela nor I can think of going there right now. I can barely go through her things that are here.”

  Deirdre slinked
closer to Kristof. “I’ll do it for you. Whatever you need. I’ll do it.”

  “You’ve been so good to me, and after everything that has happened between us.”

  Deirdre set her champagne flute on the side of the Jacuzzi and put her palms on Kritsof ’s cheeks. “That’s all in the past.” She kissed him on the forehead. “As I said, I’ll do anything you want.”

  Nikki leaned against the pool house wall. Would Deirdre also do anything possible to get him back into her life?

  Deirdre stepped out of the pool and wrapped a towel around herself. “I’d better go. I know it’s dinnertime, and your family will start to wonder where you are.”

  “Won’t you stay for dinner? I feel so awkward around everyone right now. Like all eyes are on me.”

  “I want to. I really do, but it might not look right. I think I should go home.” She leaned down and kissed him again, this time on the cheek.

  Nikki decided now was a good time to make her exit. She skirted around to her car, a lot of questions spinning in her mind. As she went to open the door, she felt the heaviness of a large hand on her shoulder and she swung around, frightened and ready to go Jennifer Garner a la Alias on whoever it was.

  “You scared me,” she said seeing Marty there.

  “I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to. I thought you had already left. Then I saw your car still here when I came out to make sure I’d put my Rolls in the garage. It’s the one car I have to make sure is in at night.”

  “I understand.” Nikki shifted from one foot to the other. Something about Marty Waltman at that moment didn’t feel right. He was looking at her in a strange manner, eyes kind of bugged out, intense, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips. Maybe he’d had a few too many already. The goose bumps sliding down her arms caused her to rub them up and down. She really wanted to get in her car and hightail it outta there.

  “Were you out for a walk?” Marty asked.

  “Actually, yes, I was. It’s such a beautiful piece of property, and I thought it would be a lovely time of night, and that I would take a stroll.” She could hear the tremor in her voice, and that it had crept up an octave.

  “I would’ve shown you around. There are lots of interesting facts about the vineyard, and then, of course, the winery is just up the hill. I enjoy showing off where the finest wines in the region are made.”

  “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “It wouldn’t have been a bother, Nikki. Did you check out the pool? I believe my caretaker turned the waterfalls on earlier this evening. It’s quite gorgeous at night.”

  Nikki placed a hand on her hip and clucked her tongue. Waving a finger at him. “You know, I missed the pool. I simply love the vines. That was what I wanted to look at.”

  “Next time you’re over, you should come see the pool, maybe take a swim. I keep it heated year round.” He sighed, crossed his arms in front of him and rocked back on his heels. “Kristof loves the pool and swimming. He has ever since he was a small boy. I’m so worried about him right now. He’s suffered a great loss.”

  “It is tragic. He’s lucky to have a supportive father and family.”

  Marty’s glasses caught the last rays of sun, shadowing them, making it impossible for Nikki to see his eyes behind the lenses.

  “There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for my son. He had some difficulties during his childhood and I’ve made it my job to ensure his happiness.”

  “As I said, he’s very lucky.”

  “I don’t know about luck. It’s a parent’s love. I love him dearly. He’s a good son and he deserves the best. I’d never want to see anything get in the way of him getting all that he deserves, especially now, after he’s lost the love of his life. Exactly like you deserve the best. You’ve been fortunate to find such a wonderful job with Malveaux. Derek is a very good man. You’re also lucky that after the fiasco last November and the time you put into snooping around to find Gabriel’s murderer, that it didn’t get you killed. If I remember right, you were in a very dangerous situation. Very lucky.”

  “I was, but I’m obviously okay.” There was a ring to Marty’s words that almost sounded like an offbeat threat.

  “That’s fortunate. I’m pleased you were so careful not to get hurt. Solving a murder should really be left up to the police. But I can understand curiosity. Like my aunt—always curious about life, people, things that are none of her business. She forgets the old saying sometimes that ‘curiosity killed the cat.’”

  Nikki glanced at her watch, even though she couldn’t read it in the descending darkness. “That’s my nature. Curious as a cat. Thanks again for everything. I’ve got to go.”

  “Take care, Nikki. Stop by for that swim any time.”

  “Will do.”

  Marty opened her car door for her and shut it as she started the engine, her hand on the keys shaking. She couldn’t help feeling unnerved. She waved goodbye and drove out of the Waltman property.

  Marty’s words echoed in her mind on her drive home, disturbing her to the core. He wanted the best for his son. Had he decided that Susan wasn’t the best for Kristof? Especially if he’d seen those incriminating photos of her and Blake Sorgensen. Thinking of Blake, Nikki with one hand on the wheel, punched in his number from memory now, for the dozenth time since Isabel’s arrest. He must have still been hanging out on his yacht in Cabo. She needed to talk with him, gauge his remorse, and get to the bottom of the affair the two of them obviously had. He didn’t pick up the phone, it was only his answering machine, and this was not something she wanted to leave a recorded message about.

  She flipped shut her phone, disappointed again that she hadn’t reached Blake. That fact struck a chord with her. He had left the reception in a hurry to go off to his yacht in Cabo. Interesting timing. What if he hadn’t been as drunk as she’d assumed at the reception? What if his excuse about going to Cabo was simply that—an excuse? What if it was a story to tell, to keep him from being a suspect in Susan’s murder? Could he have given Susan the poison and taken off for Mexico with the plan of not returning? Wow, this was getting crazier with each layer Nikki pulled away.

  She had no control over where Blake Sorgensen was and she knew she couldn’t sit by and wait for him to return from Cabo San Lucas, especially when she had a handful of people she considered suspects in Susan’s murder.

  And on that list of suspects was Marty Waltman. Nikki went back to reflecting on him and his strange behavior. Had Kristof ’s dad, on the spur of the moment, decided to murder his new daughter-in-law to ensure that she wouldn’t be able to bring Kristof down, or get her hands on the family fortune? More disturbing than his words was the tone he’d used with Nikki. Had he known she’d spied upon Deirdre and Kristof in the pool? Maybe he suspected that her mind churned with doubts about Kristof ’s undying love for his murdered bride. Could Marty be pleased to see Deirdre and Kristof spending time together again? Maybe he knew that Deirdre’s deep hatred for Susan had unleashed a killer in her. If so, was Marty Waltman telling Nikki to back off in order to protect Deirdre and Kristof? Was it his aim to put fear in her? So many unanswered questions. She felt like she was twirling deeper into a black hole. On top of the confusion from unanswered questions, she was also feeling fear, because dammit if Marty Waltman hadn’t put a little in her moments earlier. Afraid or not of the Waltman clan, the last thing Nikki was going to do was back off.

  Chapter 13

  Nikki arrived back at her place just as a full moon rose high above the Mayacamas, lighting the vineyard in an near-ethereal glow. She had plans to make.

  The Waltmans and company had done a fine job of creeping her out, and she felt like there were a handful of folks over in Sonoma with some type of motive in seeing Susan dead. But after her fact-gathering evening, she also knew there were a couple more people she needed to see, and those people were in the city.

  She checked her answering machine and there was a message from Derek. His voice alone put a smile on her face. Her ela
tion quickly subsided as his tone sounded a wee bit on the cold side.

  “Hi, Nikki. It’s Derek. I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel our dinner appointment for tomorrow night. Something else has come up.”

  What was that all about? Dinner appointment? Whoever called it a “dinner appointment,” unless it was all business, and they had never been just all business. Plus, they’d agreed there was no need for the accountant to join them. The formalities of spelling out who he was on the message? He sounded so distant, almost angry with her. What had she done? Maybe nothing at all and she was being paranoid for no reason.

  Not one to wait around and find out if someone was upset with her, she pulled her knit sweater back on and took the short walk over to Derek’s place. Ollie greeted her at the front door, wiggling his body incessantly. She bent down to pet the massive Rhodesian Ridgeback. “I’ve missed you, big boy,” she said. “You don’t come see me like you used to. Maybe tomorrow I can swing by and we’ll go for a run.” Ollie licked her hand as if he understood her words.