Silenced By Syrah (16 page)

Thank God Ollie hadn’t been in the house with her, or Janie for that matter. If they’d been inside and hadn’t noticed anything, then they both could have . . .
That
thought was too horrific to think about.

Derek came in from the kitchen with a plate of sliced apples and cheese. He set it down on the coffee table and took a seat across from her, a look of concern on his face. “I thought you might want to nibble on something.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if I could eat anything right now, though.”

“I understand. Nikki, I was wondering when the last time was that you changed the batteries in your smoke detectors. They should have worked.”

She nodded. The thought had already crossed her mind. She usually stayed on top of things like that, and if her memory served, it had been about four months ago that she’d changed them. She’d done it in the midst of some cleaning. Hadn’t she? Damn, her mind was fuzzy right now. “I
think
the batteries were fine.”

He frowned. She had to remember that the cottage was his home, too. He
did
own it. Her stay there was a part of the arrangement they’d made because she was the winery manager, and when she’d moved to Napa, Derek seemed more than eager to have her close by. What had occurred to change that? The flirting stopped, the mixed signals were no longer mixed but almost always simply business, and that was before she and Andrés had become . . . whatever it was they were. Nikki didn’t have a clue, and here she sat in his family room drinking tea while he appeared to want to comfort her, and yet the standoffish attitude still remained. Did he blame her for the fire?

“I’m glad you weren’t trapped in there,” he said.

“Me, too.”

“I called Andrés. I thought you might want to go and stay with him.” Derek sank back into his chair.

Her head snapped up. She did not need this right now. “What? Why would you think that?”

“You
are
together. You’re dating, a thing, an item, you know.”

“No, Derek,
you
don’t know. For one thing, yes Andrés and I are dating and we like each other and he’s my friend, but for God’s sake, you and he make me crazy with this control thing about me, like I’m some doll you can toss back and forth.”

He looked at her incredulously, his eyes wide.

“I’m not a rag doll, and you don’t know our situation. We’re not even sleeping together.” Oops. Now, why had she gone and said that? It really wasn’t any of his business. And, it wasn’t like he even cared. That much was obvious. “But, good. Fine. I’m glad you called him.”

Derek’s face reddened. “If you’d like, you could take a room at the hotel.”

She sighed. “Right now, I don’t know what I want. I’ll have to weigh my options and see how
I
feel.”

There was a knock at Derek’s door. He answered it and there stood the fire marshall along with Detective Robinson. Oh God, as if things couldn’t get any worse. Janie stood behind them. The detective asked her to wait outside. The girl looked injured and tried to peer around him. She waved at Nikki, who tried to smile back at her. The detective shut the door in Janie’s face. Nikki watched Robinson cruise in, and had to wonder: was he only an ass to her, or was it with women in general? Nah, it was her. She could tell by the smirk on his face. Ah, she was not gonna get any sympathy here. He already looked suspicious of her.
Great
.

The fire marshall had that family man look about him—the opposite of Detective Cool—clean shaven, trim hair, silvering around the sideburns and he smelled of smoke and oddly enough, musk. Probably bathed daily in his cologne to get the smoke smell off of him. The look in his eyes seemed to be sympathetic, and he smiled kindly at Derek and Nikki. “I’m terribly sorry for the loss of your home.”

Derek nodded. Nikki didn’t say anything. What was there to say?

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he continued. “The fire was not accidental.”

“Arson?” Derek asked. “Someone deliberately started that fire?”

“Yes. Afraid so.”

Derek sat back down, collapsing in his chair. He looked like Nikki felt—like he’d just been punched in the stomach.

“Who? Why? What in the hell?” Derek asked.

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” the detective said. “It’s possible that this fire could be connected to Mr. Debussey’s murder.”

“Excuse me?” Nikki asked, finally finding her voice. “I don’t understand. I was in my home. Are you saying that someone could have been trying to murder me, too? It’s not like I had a strong connection to Georges. We knew each other, but why would anyone kill him and then me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Robinson replied. “There could be a few scenarios we need to look at, if the fire is connected in any way with Mr. Debussey’s murder.”

The fire marshall excused himself, explaining he had more work to do at the scene.

“What type of scenarios are you talking about?” Derek asked.

Robinson didn’t answer right away, almost as if he was trying to decide if he wanted to let them in on his thoughts. “Maybe there was evidence in Ms. Sands’ home that someone was trying to hide.”

Nikki gasped. “I resent that. Are you accusing me of something, Detective?”

“No, Ms. Sands, I’m not. Should I be?”

Derek shot him a dirty look. “Nikki had no reason to kill Georges, and furthermore, she was inside her house when it burned down and was nearly trapped inside. I hardly think that qualifies as someone wanting to get rid of evidence.”

“Unless things got out of hand before she could get out, and she didn’t realize it until it was too late. Ms. Sands
was
an actress, from what I understand.”

“Yeah, I was. So? You know what, Detective, this conversation is ridiculous and over. Unless you have some kind of evidence pointing at me and you want to charge me with a crime, I’d suggest you leave.” Nikki stood up. “I don’t get you. What is your problem with me?”

“You put your nose where it doesn’t belong. You have no respect for law enforcement. I’ve heard the stories and if I’m right, I’ve got a feeling you’ve already involved yourself in this case. It’s possible you may be involved in Mr. Debussey’s murder, but more than that, I think you’re poking around where you shouldn’t be.”

“I am not involved in any way with this situation. And, you, Detective are bordering on harassment. As for my not having any respect for law enforcement, that’s the biggest crock I’ve ever heard. I was raised by a Los Angeles homicide detective. I have a ton of respect for your job, but you know what, I don’t have any respect for you, because from what I can see you’ve got it in for me so bad, you can’t point your own nose in the direction it should be going on this case.”

“Really now? And, what direction might that be?” The detective shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

She shrugged. Derek stood watching them, obviously not knowing what to say.

“Funny thing is, I got the feeling you
do
know where I should be looking.”

“You’re the cop, you figure it out,” she replied.

“I’ve got questions for you, Ms. Sands. Lots of them.”

“Yeah, well, I know my rights as a citizen, and if you want to ask me any more questions, you need to speak with my attorney.”

The detective spun on his heels and walked toward the door. Upon reaching it, he turned back around and pointed a finger at her. “I’ll be watching you.”

“Guess what? I’ll be watching you, too.” She turned away as well and walked into Derek’s bathroom, not able to take another second of having to deal with Detective Robinson. She splashed cold water on her face. Of all the nerve. When she was done, she looked up to see Derek standing in the doorway. He came over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. They stood like that for a moment, looking at each other in the mirror. Him with his wavy blond hair, etched cheekbones, and golden skin, her with her light brown hair, green eyes, and far less golden looking skin—cream-colored, maybe. She closed her eyes and turned into him, the tears coming. He held her there, pulling her into his chest. She cried like that for several minutes.

Her sobs quieted. “Are you snooping like he says?” Derek asked.

She pulled away from him. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “A little.”

“Nikki.”

“I know. I can’t stand him, and I don’t trust him. You see the way he is with me. I don’t know what his beef is.”

“I think he said what it is, pretty plain and clear. He wants you to let the police do their job, and yeah, he isn’t exactly ‘couth’ about it, but he does have a point. Have you ever thought the man is looking out for your safety, too? I don’t want you snooping anymore, either. You could have been killed tonight, and what if his theory is right? What if the fire at the cottage is tied into Georges’ murder? What if someone for some reason wants you dead, too? You could have died tonight, Nikki, and I don’t know what I would . . .”

Another knock on the door pulled him away from her before he could finish his sentence. This time it was Andrés. He ran to her and took her in his arms. They felt as good as Derek’s. Dammit. Damn Detective Jonah Robinson. Damn killers. Damn men, especially ones who smelled good, with strong arms. Damn, damn, damn.

Andrés held her out at arm’s length. “I came as soon as I heard. Derek called.” He glanced at Derek. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Derek mumbled.

Andrés pulled her close again and kissed the top of her head, which rested under his chin. “Thank God. Thank God you are all right.” He took her face in his hands. “
Dios mio.
The thought of losing you . . .” His eyes welled with tears.

It hit her hard. This man was in love with her. Her stomach swirled into a hard knot at first and then into a fluttery feeling. It was possible that her body had entered an entirely different dimension. Surreal, like she was outside of herself. She looked at Derek, who stood there—watching, hands in his pockets. What was that expression on his face? Sadness, anger, confusion?
What
?

“Maybe the timing really
is
good for you two to head off to Spain. The cottage will have to be rebuilt and after all of this, I’m sure Nikki could use time away,” Derek said.

Andrés nodded, his eyes boring into her, and she didn’t know how to respond. She heard herself say, “Yes, maybe so.” Again outside her body.

“Why don’t you come and stay with me?” Andrés asked.

She shook her head, and snapped back into the present. “No. I, um, thank you, I think I want to be alone for right now. I think I’ll stay at the hotel if the offer still stands.” She looked at Derek.

“Of course. I’ll call over there and let them know you’ll be taking a room.” He placed a quick call to the front desk at the hotel. Marco was off for the evening, but Derek settled everything for her.

Andrés looked wounded but said that he understood.

“What about Janie?” Nikki asked, suddenly remembering her houseguest. “She was outside when the detective was here. It looked like she wanted to see me.”

Derek peered out his window. “She’s still there. Someone’s with her on the porch.” He opened his front door. “Hi, Janie. Why don’t you two come on in?”

Janie and a young man entered. Janie rushed over to Nikki. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

Nikki hadn’t seen Janie much after she’d pulled her away from her burning house, because the paramedics and emergency vehicles started arriving shortly thereafter. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Janie nodded. “Okay, I guess. Worried about you.”

The man next to Janie took her hand. He was slight, only a little taller than the petite girl, not exactly handsome, but not ugly either. He had soft blue eyes, the kind that were so delicate, Nikki knew he had to squint in the sunlight. Even though, by the looks of him, he was in his midtwenties, he already had a crease between his eyes that indicated the sun got to him, or he thought an awful lot—maybe both. He was light complexioned, his hair blondish brown, more on the brown side—okay, dishwater blond. He looked like a nice guy.

“This is my husband, Trevor,” Janie said. “Thank God I got a hold of him while you were with the paramedics and he rushed out here.”

Trevor put his hand out, taking Nikki’s. “Gosh, I am so sorry Miss Sands.”

“You can call me Nikki.”

“It’s terrible. I wish I could have been here earlier, but I got held up studying for finals and working on my thesis. I’m glad I had my cell on. She caught me in the library and usually I turn it off in there. Thank you for taking care of Janie. She told me how great you’ve been.”

“No problem. She saved my life.”

“Maybe we should all be going now,” Andrés interrupted. “It’s getting late. I’ll help you get settled at the hotel.”

Nikki agreed. “We’re staying there, too,” Janie said. “Trevor went over and checked us in. That detective wants to talk to me again tomorrow. He is so not nice.”

Trevor rubbed Janie’s arm. “I’ll be there with you tomorrow.”

Janie smiled at him. “Trevor is a law student. He’s gonna make an awesome lawyer. He’s so smart. He clerks for a huge firm in the city right now.”

“Come on, baby. We should let these folks head out, and I know you’re tired, too.”

They all went to the front door and Derek said good night. Andrés left to go for his car, which he had parked at the front gate to avoid getting in the way of the emergency vehicles.

She waited on Derek’s porch for Andrés to drive her to the hotel, grateful she didn’t have to walk. Besides, Andrés clearly wanted to be there for her in any way possible.

She turned around, hearing a porch floorboard creak, and saw Derek behind her. “Nikki, I really am sorry. We’ll have the place rebuilt. It’ll be better than before.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe I should find another place.”

He didn’t say anything. Andrés pulled his car around the corner onto the dirt drive.