Silenced By Syrah (8 page)

Nikki nodded. She could understand Janie’s mother’s reasons to an extent. The woman had protected her daughter for so long and had been her only parent, but decided going into her last days that everyone deserved to know the truth. “Why didn’t they tell you before your mom passed?”

“She was in a lot of pain at the end, and they realized that I couldn’t handle the stress. I think both of them had enough sense to let me clear my head before adding any more pressure on me. I mean really, can you see it? Your mom is dying and then this man who is your boss turns around and tells you that he’s your dad. I’m glad Georges waited and that my mom agreed to it. I think I would’ve really freaked.” Janie pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“How did you react when Georges told you?”

“It was weird. You know, we were in the car and he started talking about my mother and how they met twenty-two years ago and all of that, and I knew. I’m the one who blurted it out while on the Bay Bridge, on the way here to the vineyard, that he was my dad.”

“How did you feel?”

“Relieved. I really did. No matter what, I always wanted to know who my dad was, and I felt relieved because Georges has been so great to me. I mean, you couldn’t ask for a cooler dad. And now . . . now I won’t even get to know him that way.” She broke out in tears again.

Nikki reached for a tissue box on the corner table, took some, handed them to Janie, and sat down by her. “Here.” She rubbed her back.

Janie’s cell phone rang with a Green Day song. She sighed and took it out of her purse. “Hello. Hi, baby.” She started crying and Nikki figured that it would have to be Janie’s husband. She decided to give Janie some privacy. She went into her bedroom and turned on her computer. She wanted to see if there was any information on Bernadette Debussey. She could hear Janie from the other room telling her husband between sobs about what had happened. “No. Don’t drive this late. You have to finish your paper and you have your final on Monday morning. Take care of what you need to, please. No. I’ll be okay. I think I’m gonna stay with this nice lady here. Nikki Sands. She lives in the guesthouse on the property.”

Nikki headed to her closet to pull out some blankets. She couldn’t send Janie back to the hotel, not in her state. She took out a pillow and a chenille blanket along with clean sheets. She’d let Janie have her bed and she’d crash on the couch.

She walked back into the family room. Janie was still talking to her husband. “Thanks, baby. Okay. Yeah. I’ll see you Monday. No, I mean it. I’m fine. You get your work done. You’ve worked so hard at school. Good luck with the paper and the final. The police want me to stay around for a few days in case they need to talk to me again.” She paused, obviously fielding his questions. “No, I have that suitcase. It was easier to use because of the roller things on them. I’m sorry. My duffel is in our closet. Use it.”

Nikki returned to her room and got on the Internet as she heard Janie say, “Okay. I love you, too. Good night.”

“Your husband okay?” she called out.

Janie came to her bedroom door. “He’s good. Worried about me. He wants to drive out here now, but I told him to finish his stuff for school. He doesn’t know about Georges being my dad, and I downplayed it. I mean, to him Georges was just my boss. It’s not like there’s anything he can do for me right now, and you’ve been really great. You don’t mind if I stay here, do you?”

“Stay. Please. You can have my room. I just wanted to look something up about Georges’ ex-wife.”

“I can already tell you, she’s a real winner.” The sarcasm in Janie’s voice was evident. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s no biggie.”

“No. Hang on and I’ll be right out. I want to ask you about Bernadette Debussey and why you think she might frame you for Georges’ murder.”

“That’s gonna take awhile.”

“I figured. You up to it?”

“Yeah. I need someone to talk to, and like I said, there was no way I was gonna tell that cop today. He kind of scared me.”

“Detective Robinson?”

“Yeah. The dude with the green eyes. He’s really intimidating.”

“Don’t let him get to you. It’s his job.” But Nikki knew that she’d let Jonah Robinson get under her skin, too, and she could certainly see how he could do it to Janie. The girl was smart but definitely lacked sophistication. Knowing how cops worked, she figured that Robinson had probably played upon and preyed on Janie’s weaknesses of vulnerability and naiveté, the kind that youth carries with it. This thought made her angry. Jerk. How dare he frighten Janie so much that she felt she couldn’t be honest with him. But Nikki hadn’t been entirely open either. Her reasoning was different, and it wasn’t a lack of honesty. She simply hadn’t been completely forthright, and if she’d had any doubts earlier in the day about the way she’d responded to Robinson, she didn’t anymore. Janie needed help and she’d come to Nikki for it, plus she’d made Nikki promise to keep her secrets under lock and key. Aunt Cara had always taught her that a promise broken harms the integrity of all involved.

Nikki looked Bernadette Debussey up on Google and immediately several links popped up. She opened the first one and read a story from the
San Francisco Chronicle
dated April 19 of the previous year. Nikki found several more articles from the
Chronicle
dated through August. There weren’t any more articles to find after August 27—the date when Bernadette Debussey was sentenced to spend the next two decades in prison.

Chapter 7

The following morning Nikki poured Janie a cup of coffee and then one for herself. She brought over a couple of bowls of oatmeal and a side of bacon, her fat allotment for the day.

“You’re really nice to do this and let me stay here. When Trevor comes tomorrow we’ll go back to the hotel. I was afraid to stay there last night because, you know, I mean, what if someone knows I’m Georges’ daughter and they come after me, too?” Janie said.

Nikki hadn’t thought about that but could see why Janie might. But foremost on Nikki’s mind was the question that had plagued her all night after reading through the articles on Bernadette. She didn’t have a lot of time to get the story straight in her head before heading out to see how Simon and Marco were doing, and Derek, too. She knew they’d all have to pull together to do damage control and manage the guests at the hotel until the police gave the okay for them all to go. There were a few people Nikki wanted to track down today. Baron O’Grady was for sure on her list because he
had
been Georges’ partner and friend. Maybe he would have an idea about who might have wanted to kill Georges. She also wanted to speak to Charlotte, Georges’ spa therapist yesterday, who had conveniently left before Nikki had found Georges dead in the water.

“I learned a lot about Bernadette last night.” Nikki sat down and picked up a piece of bacon. Before taking a bite she pulled the fat off, which didn’t leave a whole lot of the meat. “You helped put her in jail? You didn’t tell me that she was in jail.”

Janie poured almost half a carton of cream into her coffee and spooned in several sugars. “Yeah. She deserved it.”

“From what I read, she did. Why don’t you tell me your version?” Nikki sat back and took a bite out of the bacon. Mhhm, nothing like that smoky, salty, fat flavor.

“Well, the chick went ballistic, you know. Here she and Georges are, sitting pretty in their Pacific Heights mansion, and after my mom died Georges was cool enough to let me have the guesthouse until I could figure out what I was gonna do. It wasn’t like I could stay at my mom’s place. Too hard.”

“I’m sure.”

“I don’t even get why Bernadette wigged. I started going out with Trevor about a month after my mom died and we spent a ton of time together. He’s great. You’ll love him. But anyway, one day Bernie—that’s what we called her—comes home, and at first she was way cool with me. We hung out and everything. She’s only five years older than me, so it was good ’cause I needed a friend and everything. But then she saw that Georges and I were hanging out more and more. It wasn’t because he wanted into my pants. Duh. I knew that, too. He was into her. I think Georges was kicking it with me because he wanted to get to know me better. After all, I was his kid.” She looked away, and when she looked back, her eyes had again filled with tears. “I’m sorry. It’s pretty hard. I liked him. I think I loved him, you know. I did. I am sorry, but he was my dad. That’s a total reality for me now. Now that he’s gone.”

“I understand.”

Janie wiped her face with a napkin and swallowed some coffee. “Bernie flipped out because she thought Georges and I were messing around. One day when I was at work with him in his new restaurant, she ransacked the guesthouse and she shredded my clothes, and the worst part is, she smashed several paintings that my mom had done. Sure, my mom was no Picasso, but she liked to paint and I liked what she painted. She’d left me those pieces and Bernie ruined them.” Janie shook her head. “Unbelievable. I went straight to Georges, who believed me because she’d gone crazy on him, too, that night, accusing him of sleeping with me. Once he found out what she’d done to my stuff, he kicked her out and filed for a divorce the next day. She was so pissed. I mean she signed a prenup, so she was getting nothing.”

“That weekend she came back and torched the guesthouse?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah, and all my stuff. The police found her fingerprints and everything. She says she didn’t do it, but c’mon, it’s so obvious.”

“Some people aren’t too bright. I’m sorry about your mom’s paintings and all that you’ve lost.”

“Me too. Listen, can I stay here today? I don’t really want to talk to anyone.”

“Sure. I’ve got to go into the office and see what’s going on there and then over to the hotel for some damage control. It might be Sunday, but with what’s happened I’m sure my boss will hold a meeting. But before I go, can I ask you, since Bernadette is behind bars, why or how do you think she could have murdered Georges and framed you?”

Janie set her spoon back in her oatmeal and swallowed. “Bernie knows lowlifes, you know what I mean? The rumor I heard was that her brother was in a gang, and bad news. Georges didn’t let him come over, and that upset Bernie because she was close to her brother. I never met him. Georges got mad at her one time for bailing him out of jail. I think that maybe she could have had her brother or one of his friends kill Georges.”

“That said, how could she frame you, and why?”

“She’d frame me because she blames me for her getting sent to prison. You know, some people can’t take responsibility for their actions, and Bernie thinks that it’s my fault she’s in jail. I even got a letter from her that says so.” Janie got up and took her notebook out of her backpack. She brought it over to the table and opened it. It appeared to be an entire schedule from Georges’ day—yesterday. It even had the time he was supposed to have met with Nikki to discuss the wine pairings for dinner, and his spa treatment appointment.

Janie took out a letter from a pocket in the notebook. “Read this.”

The letter said that if Janie had never come into Georges’ life, Bernadette wouldn’t be in jail and the reason she’d ruined her clothes and paintings was because Janie was always with Georges, that it was disrespectful to Bernadette. She went on to write that she did not burn the guesthouse down and that Janie should have known her better than that and that Janie’s testimony was what put her in jail. She also wrote how betrayed she’d felt by Georges. That part Nikki found really interesting. It sure did sound like Bernadette Debussey needed help.

Nikki handed the letter back to Janie. “She’s pretty angry. I see what you mean. Did you tell Detective Robinson any of this?”

“I did. I told him what I thought about Bernadette and what I knew about her brother being a criminal. He said that he’d check into it.”

“It may be a good idea to show him this letter. Think about it. You may be right: if Bernadette is as angry as she sounds and if she and her brother are close, who knows.” Janie nodded. “By the way, do you know where Baron O’Grady is staying?”

“He’s at the hotel. I saw him there. Why?”

“Oh, for some reason when he was late yesterday I assumed he’d come in from the city.”

“Well yeah, he had, but then he checked in.”

Nikki drank the rest of her coffee. “Baron. Is he a good guy?”

“Totally. He and Georges were best friends. I haven’t talked to him, but I’m sure he’s devastated.”

“I think I’ll go by and see him.”

“Tell him I’m thinking of him. Okay?”

“Sure. If you need anything else please feel free. There’s food in the fridge and you can watch TV or listen to the stereo, go on the Internet. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks. You really would make a great mom.”

Nikki wondered. Maybe. She showered, then pulled on a pair of khakis and took out a silk shell in a paisley pattern of pinks and reds. Pretty and summery, and she knew that the June day would be hot, probably a tad humid, too. After drying her hair, she pulled it back and dabbed on some blush, a little mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Funny how at almost thirty-seven she was just starting to like the way she looked, even with the slightly noticeable lines around her eyes and on her forehead. She’d spent so many years trying to be glamorous, doing all the tricks with the makeup, applying self tanner to give her that
natural
California glow, but now it all seemed kind of humorous when she thought about it. Maybe inching toward forty wasn’t so bad after all. And, maybe Janie was right about her being a good mom. The time clock
was
ticking and she
did
want a family. At least she thought she did. Andrés’ face flashed into her mind, and then the thought of Spain, and of going there with him. Could she do it?
Should
she do it?

Nikki didn’t have any answers to her questions. She slid into her sandals and finished getting ready, then said a quick good-bye to Janie. She did the half-mile hike to the winery’s business offices and, as she suspected, found Derek there.