Murder Over Cocktails: The 2nd Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) (12 page)

“To your new life,” she said.

That sounded ominous. I took a sip. It was the best champagne I had ever tasted.

“Champagne usually gives me a headache,” I confessed.

“Just have a little,” she urged. “Then we can take a swim. The pool is heated.”

“Okay,” I said, mentally cringing. I’m really not much of a swimmer.

If we were both in the pool I wouldn’t be able to get to my gun, but she wouldn’t be able to get to her knife either. I’d have to be the first one out. This was getting complicated.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I said, reaching for my purse.

“You remember where it is?” she asked.

“I always remember where the bathroom is.” I gave her a disarming smile and winked, but my legs felt weak as I walked into the house.

Inside the bathroom I locked the door behind me, whipped out my cell, and hit redial.

“Nikki?” Bill sounded frantic.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Where the hell are you?”

“We’re at the house in Atherton,” I whispered. “I don’t know the address. It’s on a side street just north of Menlo College. Look for my car in the driveway.”

“You should leave.”

“Just
get
here, damn it. We’ll be in the backyard by the pool. I’ll stall her as long as I can.”

I disconnected without saying good-bye and immediately regretted it. It might be the last time I ever spoke with Bill. I considered calling him back, but I was feeling anxious about leaving Maggie alone for too long. If I aroused her suspicions now it would all have been for nothing and more innocent women would die. I checked the position of the Ruger in my purse before returning to the backyard, where I found Maggie sitting at the table sipping champagne, in her underwear.

“You started without me,” I said.

I set my bag on the ground as near the pool as I could manage without being obvious, then picked up my champagne glass. I took a sip, set the glass back down, and took off my jacket. I wasn’t wearing a blouse. At the gym I always use the dressing rooms rather than disrobing in front of other women. Probably my upbringing. When I started kindergarten, Mom told me to never let anyone see my panties. Now here I was, taking off my clothes in front of a woman who not only wanted my body, she wanted to take my life. I was not psychologically prepared for this.

I slowly removed my shoes, shorts, panties, and bra, and stuck a tentative toe in the water. Maggie was right. It was warm. As I was about to jump in I felt a hand on my shoulder and forced myself not to flinch. Maggie was standing very close. Her spectacular breasts were bared, and she pressed them against me as she leaned in for a kiss. I closed my eyes and tried not to think. As our lips connected, she pushed me backwards into the water and followed me in.

I knew what Maggie liked from watching her videos, and I played my part with Oscar-winning aplomb, in spite of the fact that I was almost nauseous with fear. When it was over I swam to the side of the pool nearest my purse and pulled myself out.

“I need a cigarette,” I said. “You want your champagne?”

Maggie was coming up the steps at the shallow end, her face in shadow. She didn’t respond. I reached into my bag and repositioned the Ruger so I could easily slide my right hand around the grip. I took out my cigarettes and lighter, and set the purse on the table, leaving the top open. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Maggie silently walked toward me. I picked up one of the towels and wrapped it around my shoulders as Maggie stepped into the light. Her pupils were dilated and her lips were compressed into a scowl.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

I held the cigarette in my left hand, keeping my gun hand free. Maggie was silent. She approached the table and reached for her bag. I reached for the Ruger. As Maggie’s hand went into her purse, her lips pulled back exposing her teeth in a chilling grimace. She lifted out the knife I’d seen in the videos, clutching it in her fist, and moved around the table toward me. I had the Ruger out in a flash. I dropped my cigarette on the ground, raised the gun, and seized the grip with both hands. I shouted, “Stop!” But Maggie kept coming, oblivious to the weapon I was pointing at her chest. We were only two feet apart when I pulled the trigger. Her arms flew forward as she was blown back into the pool.

I stood, frozen, still holding the gun double handed, waiting for Maggie to climb out of the water and attack again. Eventually she floated to the surface. The look on her face is something I’ll never forget. It was serene, almost blissful. I gazed at the small hole in her perfect chest, and the shock hit me like a cement truck.

I lowered the gun, stepped back onto the lit cigarette, barely noticing the pain, and fell into a deck chair. I set the gun down on the table with trembling hands, still watching her lifeless body in the pool, and reached for my phone. The neighbors had probably heard the shot and called the police by now. I needed to get dressed.

As I hit redial, I heard the sound of running feet rounding the corner of the house. I pressed my knees together and held the towel protectively over my breasts. Bill leapt through the wall of cypress, gun drawn, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. He looked me up and down, checking for injuries, then slowly turned his head and saw what was in the pool.

Chapter 24

“O
h shit,” Bill groaned.

He turned to face me and I saw the compassion in his eyes. He lowered his gun, sliding it into the holster, then crossed the distance between us and pulled me into his arms. I started crying and I couldn’t stop. Bill had to dress me. He didn’t bother with the panties and bra. He just got me covered and stuffed my undergarments in his jacket pocket.

He told me not to touch anything, then he called the Atherton police and told them who he was and what had happened. Bill sat down next to me and we waited in silence. The longer we sat there, the more chaotic my emotions became. I felt guilty because I had killed another human being. I felt proud that I had survived, and I was grateful to be alive. Also, I felt unclean after having sex with someone I wasn’t attracted to and didn’t care about. By the time the police arrived I was a basket case.

Bill talked to the officer in charge in hushed tones while I chain smoked. My hands were still shaking. My brain eventually began to function with the infusion of nicotine and I realized that I had saved countless innocent women from being brutally murdered and dismembered. I also realized that Bill had been right: I would never be the same, and this would probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

The evening was turning cool by the time the forensics team arrived and started cataloging evidence. Maggie’s body was fished out of the pool and placed on a gurney in a zippered bag. They took the Ruger, of course. They also went through my purse and bagged my speed loader. I managed to function well enough to request receipts for those items.

I waited anxiously for Bill and the Atherton PD to locate the video camera. They finally found it wedged discreetly behind a planter box.

I was eyeing the bottle of Cristal when Bill approached the table where I was huddled.

“You okay?” he asked, stooping down.

“No. I’m cold, I want a drink, and I want to go home. When can I go home?”

“There’s a problem.” He looked over his shoulder at the other detectives, and lowered his voice. “We can’t find the knife.”

I sat very still for a moment, letting what he’d said sink in. I couldn’t remember seeing the knife after I’d pulled the trigger. I had to grab hold of the table to keep myself from curling into a fetal position.

“Look in the pool,” I said. “Can I borrow your jacket?”

Bill took off his sport coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. I slid my arms into the sleeves.

“We’re going to drain the pool,” he said, “but it doesn’t look like there’s anything down there.”

“Well, it has to be
somewhere
. Jesus. Tell them to watch the fucking video.”

Bill gently took my hand. “When we finish up here we have to go down to the Atherton PD. We’ll watch the tape and you’ll have to answer some questions. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay! What took you so long to get here anyway?”

I had no right to be angry with Bill, but I was scared and I needed to lash out at someone.

“I couldn’t find the house,” he said, quietly indignant. “Have you called Elizabeth to let her know you’re okay?”

“No. I’d better do that. Maybe I should page Jack, too.”

Bill’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t say anything. I picked up the phone and found I couldn’t remember Elizabeth’s number. I had to go through my contacts list and look it up. As I was dialing I remembered the tapes at Maggie’s house.

“Bill!” I said, my voice cracking. “They need to search Maggie’s house. The videotapes.”

“I gave them the address,” he said. “They’re waiting for the warrant.”

“The what?”

“The search warrant,” he said.

“Why do they need a warrant?”

“It seems there’s a brother listed at the same address.”

“Oh. Maybe he lives in the guest house. Tell them to look in the family room of the main house. The black cabinet under the TV.”

I finished dialing Elizabeth’s number, and it rang only once before she picked up.

“Nikki?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“No, but I’m alive, which is more than I can say for Maggie.”

“Holy
shit
. What happened?”

“Bill lost us in traffic and Maggie took me to the house in Atherton. She pulled the knife before he could get here, and I had to shoot her.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, “Where are you, exactly? Give me the address. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Elizabeth to the rescue.

“That’s okay,” I said. “We won’t be here much longer. We have to go to the police station. They can’t find the knife.”

“You mean the scissor thing? What do you mean they can’t find it?”

“When I shot her I didn’t see where it went. It’s pretty dark out here. They’re draining the pool, but they may not find it until daylight.”

“I could meet you at the station.”

“No. Get some sleep. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”

“Okay, sweetie. Call if you need me.”

“I will. Is Jack with you by any chance?”

“No. I haven’t seen him tonight. Why?”

“I need to let him know what happened. Do you have his pager number?”

“Yeah. You want me to call him?”

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. And ask him if he’s ever seen a man on Maggie’s property. Evidently she has a brother.”

Bill drove me to the Atherton PD and one of the uniformed officers took my BMW, so I would have it when we were done. We didn’t talk much in the car. Bill held onto me with his right hand and drove with his left, which isn’t easy when you’re driving a stick shift.

The Atherton Police Department doesn’t look the way you’d expect a government office to look. It’s quite urbane and has the smell of money about it. Bill parked around the back and silently ushered me inside.

For some reason I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d done something criminal. In my mind I knew that was silly, but I was having trouble persuading my emotions to follow reason. I was seriously afraid they were going to lock me up.

I was allowed to rest in the break room while Bill and the officers involved in the investigation viewed the video. The room was carpeted and contained a couch, two round tables with chairs, three coffee makers, and a soda machine. The couch was overstuffed and comfortable. I put my feet up and fell asleep. Bill woke me around 11:00 with a Styrofoam cup of something hot, black, and oily looking.

“Drink this,” he said.

“No thanks.”

“You’re gonna need it, Nikki.”

I sat up and took the cup from him. I felt a rush of adrenaline, followed by a sense of dread.

“Why?” I took a sip of the vile brew and managed to swallow, then I set the cup on the floor and fished out my cigarettes.

“Because of the angle of the camera you can see a flash of light reflected from whatever Margaret had in her hand, but you can’t actually see that it’s a knife.”

I stared at him with the unlit cigarette in my mouth, the lighter poised. I could not believe this was happening to me. I was the
good
guy. This kind of crap wasn’t supposed to happen to the good guys. Of course, this whole business of good guys and bad guys is complicated by the fact that everybody thinks they’re the good guy.

“I need to see the tape,” I said dully.

Bill escorted me into the conference room. There were six men in plain clothes seated at the table. They all looked up when I entered. They each looked me over, and then all but one of them looked away.

“Do all these people have to be here?” I whispered to Bill.

“Yes,” he said, pulling out a chair for me. “Ms. Hunter would like to view the videotape before answering any questions,” he said. “Anybody have a problem with that?”

There was some nervous fidgeting, but no one objected. Bill rewound the tape to the point where Maggie got out of the pool and approached the table. The camera in the planter box had been behind where I was standing and slightly to my left. My face burned with embarrassment. It wasn’t bad enough that I was in a room full of men I didn’t know who were looking at my naked body on television, but all those years of working out and my butt still had dimples.

On the screen Maggie was reaching into her bag. When she withdrew her hand there was a flash of light, perhaps the setting sun reflecting off the blade’s surface. She walked halfway around the patio table, drew back her arm, and lunged at me. On the tape Maggie’s right hand, the one holding the knife, was obscured by my head. I had the gun up, shouted “
Stop,
” and fired. Maggie flew back into the pool, but there was no indication of where the knife had gone.

I suddenly felt nauseous. “Is there a bathroom?” I asked, standing up.

“I’ll show you,” said the cop who hadn’t looked away when I’d entered the room.

He was dark, either Hispanic or Italian, and he took hold of my arm as he escorted me from the conference room. I jerked away from him.

“I’m fine,” I snapped. “Just tell me where it is.”

He directed me down the hall to the left of the break room.

“Thank you,” I hissed. 

I managed to hold the salad, champagne, and coffee down until I reached the toilet. When my stomach was empty I sat down on the floor and put my head between my knees. I felt dizzy and clammy. This was a nightmare. I’d wake up in the morning and the knife would be there, on the tape. They would find it, and Maggie’s prints would be all over it. I took some slow, deep breaths and that seemed to help with the nausea.

After a while I stood up and looked in the mirror. My mascara had made dark circles around my eyes. Other than that there was no color in my face at all. I washed up and then put on blush and lip gloss. I looked better, but a good night’s sleep was what I really needed. A good night’s sleep, the comfort of my own bed, and maybe some chocolate chip cookies. That was what I needed. If that didn’t do the trick I’d have to go shopping. Spending money gives most women an endorphin rush twice as powerful as eating chocolate or having an orgasm. Okay, maybe not twice as powerful as an orgasm, but definitely better than chocolate.

When I re-entered the conference room all conversation stopped. Bill was standing at the head of the table, looking angry.

“Sit down, Nikki,” he said.

“What’s going on?” I asked wearily.

“The officers searching the Sectio house in Woodside have been unable to locate any videotapes. They found the cabinet, but it was empty.”

I sat down hard. “I don’t understand.”

“Margaret may have destroyed the tapes,” Bill said.

“Well, I still have copies of them at the office.”

Six heads turned in my direction. I looked to Bill for help, but it was too late. Over the next two hours I told the story of my anonymous client who had called about the killer in Woodside, lying just enough to keep Jack out of it. I said he’d paid me in cash by mail, and that he’d dropped the videotape copies off in my mail slot at night. I told them he had always been the one to contact me. I could have given them his pager number, but I didn’t like these guys, so I kept it to myself. They made me tell the whole story four times.

Finally Bill stood up. “If you’re not going to charge Ms. Hunter with anything tonight, I think she could use some sleep.”

They gave me the usual warning about not leaving town, and Bill walked me to my car. “I’m going to stay here a while longer,” he said. “Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I think so. Come by the boat when you’re done?”

“It’ll be late,” he said, handing me my car keys.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I need to know what’s happening and I’d really appreciate the company.”

It’s hard for me to admit that I need anybody, but at the moment my pride was the least of my concerns.

Bill gave me a long hug and waited until I was on my way before turning back to the building. I was halfway home when I realized I was still wearing his jacket. I felt in the pockets and located my bra and panties. I tried to think, but my mind wouldn’t function beyond steering the car.

When I got to the marina I locked the 2002 and walked down the companionway on unsteady legs. It was after 1:00 a.m., but the lights in Elizabeth’s trawler were still on.