Corked by Cabernet (23 page)

“I suppose.”

“I know. I get off on tangents. Iwao joined us with the hopes of becoming my publisher and promoter in order to take what I’m doing to his country and make me what he called me the other day, ‘a superstar.’ That’s not what I’m about. I’d hoped that through being with us, Iwao would discover there is real truth in what I say and what people discover through these workshops and that it isn’t simply a dollars-and-cents game.”

“I see. You have a loyalty to Inspiritus and Rich Higgins.”

“I do. To Rich’s mother actually. Rich is new at this and sometimes we don’t see eye to eye. He can have a tendency to only think about the bottom line. But he is coming into my family, and because of that, I think I can guide him. My family and my daughter will be a part of his growth and experience.”

“You really don’t allow much to bother you.”

“No. It’s a waste of time. But what’s happened with Iwao and Mizuki does bother me. I didn’t know Mizuki at all. This was the first time that I’d met her. I’d heard of her, although she’d never joined Iwao at a workshop event.”

It was not the first time his daughter Sierra had met her, however. Nikki thought about revealing that photo to him and then decided against it.

“Do you have any idea who would want to kill them and why?”

He shook his head. “No. But as you already know, people are not always what they seem.”

“That’s the truth.”

He stood. “I better get back and see what my girls and son are up to and start the day. I like your suggestion. I think what I’ll do after breakfast is have the meditation be focused on feelings about these deaths and then we can have some discussion if people are open to it. You’re a good teacher yourself. Will you be joining us at all?”

“Maybe for a bit, but I’m having some people over for dinner tonight. In fact, I’d love it if you and your family joined us around six.”

“I think that would be wonderful. Thank you, and thank you for listening and teaching me.”

Ollie licked his hand as he got up to leave. Nikki walked him to the door and, closing it behind him, leaned against it. Yes, people definitely aren’t always who they seem to be. The question was, whose mask was the killer hiding behind?

NIKKI showered, dressed, and then dropped off the applications with Hayden before heading out to do the grocery shopping for the evening affair.

“Did you find out anything?” Hayden asked.

“No. Everything looks kosher to me.”

Hayden sighed. “Good. I’m glad I could help.”

Nikki didn’t want Hayden to know what she’d learned about Kurt. If Hayden wanted to, she could read the applications herself and make her own determinations, but there was no need to rile the woman up. She’d been decent enough to let Nikki have them.

She’d tried to call Derek on her way to the store but he didn’t answer. Was he ignoring her? He wouldn’t do that. She didn’t like that in almost three days they’d hardly spoken. Was he angry with her? And what about this Sophia? Argh, Nikki was driving herself nuts with thoughts like that. It was totally ridiculous. Derek was simply busy making his deal with Vicente Salvatore and she knew that couldn’t be easy. If it were her deal, she’d have given up on the old man a while ago.

After putting the groceries away, she made herself a sandwich, allowed Ollie to eat half of it, and then tried Derek again. This time the call went straight to voicemail. Huh! Okay, then. She knew she should go down and see what was going on with the S.E.E. group and touch base with the boys. Ollie whined at her.

“You’re right. I’ve been ignoring you. Want to go for a run?”

Ollie stood up and made the sound he always did before they went on a run—it sounded kind of like a dying seal. She was never sure exactly what that meant. Either he dreaded getting up, but did it to please her. Or it was the sound of sheer joy at the prospect of stretching his long legs. It didn’t matter. She’d been planning on running with him that morning and then she’d blown it off. Now they were heading out. She’d go check out the meditation program afterward for an hour, see if she could learn anything new, then get back home and start fixing the meal.

Once on the trail, hearing her feet pound the earth beneath her as she weaved in and out of rows of grapevines, making it a game for Ollie, Nikki let go of thoughts of murder, notions of beautiful Italian women trying to scam her lover, and philosophies from New Age, old age, or whenever. It was her, the ground, and the dog—all moving together.

At one point she sprinted up the hill on the shadiest section of the vineyard. That was the best place for Chardonnay grapes. In the newest vines taking hold, small buds illuminated the ends as the sun cast down a soft, light yellow, like a baby chick’s new fuzz. As she went farther up the hill, Ollie at her feet still, the vines matured and twisted into fruitful plants with grapes filling with their sweet juices. The ends of these plants now glowed a soft green that she was certain no artist had ever captured. This scene was God’s painting.

When the pair reached the top of the hill, Nikki looked out over the Malveaux vineyards—awe-inspiring rolling hills of grapevines in all shades of greens and purples, intermixed with dark chocolate soil and almost an earthen red soil in other areas. Ollie sat down next to her, panting, also taking it in. She scratched his head. “What do you say we get some water?”

He wagged his tail and they were off again down the hill this time. As they rounded the back side of the hotel, the Dumpster that Housekeeping used glared at her. The sun beat down on the green metal. Nikki stopped in front of it. The note that Juan wrote to Iwao had never been found. It could be in the Dumpster. How hard could this be? She could just rummage around a bit. Right? Ooh, yuck! Ollie sat down and looked up at her.

“I’ll just see what’s at the top. You stay.” She opened up the lid and luckily found that all the trash bags were tied up the way Housekeeping had been asked to do. It kept down on the flies in the area. She pulled out the bags and that was when things got messy.

There was something so wrong about going through others’ trash—and so disgusting. Ollie sat there looking as grossed out as she was. She riffled through items that made her want to barf, but she kept on going. And into the fifth bag, she hit pay dirt. A crumpled-up, handwritten note on legal paper. She unfolded it.
Keep the party for yourself this time. I’m done dealing with you.
This had to be the note, didn’t it? Juan was right. The note had not been signed, yet this had to be his just by the tone of it. Who else could have written it? Ruben? Maybe. Anyone else? Nikki didn’t have a clue but knew she needed to get this to Robinson and she desperately needed to wash her hands. At least twice. With antibacterial soap.

She shoved the note into the waistband of her running pants and started off toward the café to get herself and Ollie some water and wash her hands. She’d take a shower as soon as she got home.

They kept a water bowl in the kitchen of the café for Ollie. When she got there, Nikki scrubbed her arms and hands a few times with soap and water and then got herself a bottle of water. Setting the bottle down, she spotted someone sitting alone in the corner of the café. The way the sun shone over the open-air café made it difficult to see the person’s face. Honeysuckle and ivy cascaded throughout the café from overhead and up the side of the walls, casting shadows on the ground and in the corners.

The kitchen faced the café, like a trattoria—very wine country chic. Nikki squinted. Who was that?

Ollie followed her out of the kitchen and she walked over to the person. It was a woman. She looked up as Nikki and Ollie came toward her. It was Sierra Sansi. Her face was tearstained and she looked miserable.

“Sierra? You okay?”

“Sure, I am. I’m perfect, just like the rest of my family.”

Now what was the comeback to that?

THE only way to handle a loaded statement like the one Sierra had dumped on Nikki was to ask a loaded question. “Why aren’t you perfect?”

Sierra’s sad blue eyes, the same as her father’s, looked at Nikki. “There are too many reasons.”

Nikki was dealing with a victim. Or a psychopath . . .

“Oh, come on, Sierra. I realize I don’t know you all that well, but you seem fine to me. You seem like a great young woman.”

“Ha! My sister doesn’t think so, my mother doesn’t think so, and my brother definitely doesn’t think so.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Do you smell that? Something smells like trash.”

“Hmmm. No. I don’t.” She wasn’t about to tell Sierra about her Dumpster escapade. “What about your dad?” Nikki pulled up a chair opposite Sierra and took a seat. Ollie dutifully plopped down next to her. The Mexican pavered floor probably felt good against his skin.

“My dad thinks everyone is perfect. No one can do any wrong in his eyes.”

Nikki cupped a hand under her chin and leaned her elbow on the table. “Have you ever thought, Sierra, and again, I don’t know you very well, but I do know people tend to be their own harshest critic, so have you ever thought that maybe it’s not about anyone else in your family or outside your family? Maybe it’s
you
expecting yourself to be perfect. I understand you do martial arts. That type of discipline demands a certain level of perfection, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t do it anymore. You really don’t smell anything rotten like?”

Nikki did her best to will the stench off her body. “Nope. I heard you were really good at martial arts. Why did you quit?”

“Who told you that I was good?”

“Actually, your sister did.”

“Hayden said that?” There was a spark in Sierra’s eyes.

“Yes, she did. She even mentioned that you had done some movie-related stuff, like stunts and choreography for a martial arts movie.”

“That’s true, but not now. It was kind of a passing phase. It wasn’t for me.” Sierra fidgeted with the ends of the white tablecloth.

“Oh, come on.” Nikki coaxed. “There is far more to this than you’re telling me. You said the other night on the wine train, before everything went south, that I seemed like I’d be a good best friend. Tell me your story.”

Sierra looked at her, and a gaze that Nikki recognized crossed Sierra’s face. She knew it because she’d had that same look in her own eyes many times—from that early distrusting age of about four. “Look, I’m only here to listen. I like your dad. I think he’s cool. I think he has some good philosophies and a nice energy about him. I’ve actually learned a few things from him in the last couple of days, including that sometimes the best soul to share your fears and doubts with is the soul of a stranger.” Okay, so Alan had not said that to her, but it kind of sounded like something he would say.

“You buy into that crap?”

Ooops. Maybe Nikki was wrong. “Well, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes. I straddle the fence, you know? When my life is good and on target, I think my dad is a genius. But when it all goes to hell, I think he’s full of it.”

Nikki sat back. “Let me guess . . . These days you think he’s full of it?”

She nodded. “Basically. I do. But he believes it. My mother believes it, so does my sister even though she says she doesn’t know. She’s too
pragmatic
for such spiritual matters.”

Nikki smiled at her. She was jaded but funny. She could relate to Sierra. “I like people and I think you seem like a nice woman, but if you don’t want to share with me, it’s fine. I need to check in with the meditation your dad is running. Thought I might give it a half hour or so, and then I have to get home and start fixing dinner for tonight. Your dad told you about it, right? You coming?”

She nodded.

“Good. If you ever need a friend, some people think I’m okay.” Nikki knew it was evil. In all sincerity, she meant it, though, and wanted to hear the woman’s woes and felt for her, but c’mon! There was no denying that she wanted to find the truth about Iwao and Mizuki. If in becoming Sierra’s friend she learned something that could help, then whom had she wronged? She had to get this girl talking—especially about her connection to Iwao and his nephew. And that meant it was not beneath her to use reverse psychology.