The Bad Always Die Twice (19 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Crane

BOOK: The Bad Always Die Twice
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Tiffany sniffed. “
Ah
don’ know who
kielled Reyx
if tha’s
whatcher
askin’ me.”

“I understand. I just need to be clear as to your relationship with him. Were you having an affair with him?”


Ah
wouldn’t say that.” She looked down at her feet. She was wearing sneakers. She sighed and looked around the parking lot again. “
Ah
did take money from
hiem
, okay?
Fur
. . .
fur
companionship.”

“You mean for . . . sex?” Nikki said as nonjudgmentally as she could. And, honestly, she didn’t feel judgmental. The poor girl looked barely old enough to have graduated college. An opportunity Nikki doubted had been available to her. “Okay,” Nikki said slowly, thinking about what Kelly had said about them running away together. “So . . . you . . . you had a business arrangement, but you weren’t, like, in love with him?”

Tiffany shook her head, her gaze on the pavement again. “
Hey
was nice to me’s all. He
payd
for my actin’ classes. He was gonna pay for a new augmentation.” She looked down at her breasts and tears began to slip down her cheeks. “And then
hey
was
dayd
. The plane crash.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “It was awful.
Reyx wadn’t
the kind of person to
dah
like that, ya know?” she said in her sweet southern drawl. “
Ah
remember
thanking
there was somethin’ not
raht
there.
Ah
thought it was his lawyer.”

“You thought it was his lawyer?”

Tiffany started to walk again. Fast. Luckily, Nikki was wearing her sensible shoes.

“What do you mean, you thought it was his lawyer, Tiffany?”

She stopped beside a beat-up blue sedan. An old BMW. “
Ah
thought Alex sab-o-taged the
playne
, or somethin’. You know, people can do that. Do somethin’
tuh
the engine so’s it bursts
intuh
flames. I thought Alex killed him. Okay?”

“By Alex, you mean Alex Ramirez?”

Tiffany nodded, looking away. She was leaning against the driver’s side door. Nikki sensed she might bolt at any moment.

“How did you know Alex Ramirez, Tiffany?”

She shrugged one slender shoulder. “Met him a couple ’a times with
Reyx
.
Ah
didn’
lahk
him much. Ya know?” She dared a peek at Nikki. “The way
hey
looked at me . . .
lahk
he coulda jus’ eat me
raht
up.”

“So what made you think Alex had something to do with Rex’s death . . . when he supposedly went down in the plane crash?”

Again, the pretty shrug. But then she met Nikki’s gaze and there was an honesty in her eyes that held Nikki’s attention.

“Somethin’ ’bout him a body jest couldn’ trust,” she explained. “Somethin’ in his beady eyes.”

The words that came out of Tiffany’s mouth sounded like a line from a bad western, but Nikki knew exactly what the girl meant. She knew Alex Ramirez and she had never cared for him. She’d always thought he and Rex were perfect for each other.


Ah
gotta go,” Tiffany said, slipping her key into the door.

“Sure.” Nikki backed up a step so Tiffany could swing open the door. “Just one more question, Tiffany, and then I’ll let you go.” Nikki made eye contact with her, her hand on the car door. “Did you know that Rex didn’t die in that plane crash? Did you know, at any point after the crash, that he wasn’t dead?”

She didn’t try to look away this time. “
Ah swayre
to God,
Ah deidn’t
know.”

Chapter 16

W
hen Nikki walked into Victoria’s bedroom suite, her mother was seated on the couch, looking stylish as always, today in a black jogging suit, with her pearls. She wore no makeup (apparently, no public appearances today) but she had such a flawless complexion that, even at her age, she was beautiful without a hint of foundation or a stroke of mascara.

She was on the phone, so Nikki sat down on the other end of the couch and shuffled through the stack of magazines on an end table. Her mother always had an eclectic choice of reading materials:
Variety, Ladies’ Home Journal, The New Yorker, People, The Economist, Soap Opera Digest,
and the
Boston Review
. She flipped through the latest
New Yorker,
half-listening to her mother on the phone.

“No, no, I can’t say that I make potato salad often. You should e-mail me the recipe, though, so I can give it to my housekeeper.” Victoria paused, then chuckled. “I agree, even girls our age need to watch our figures, but it doesn’t hurt to treat ourselves occasionally, does it?” Another chuckle.

Nikki felt herself frowning. Who the heck was her mother talking to? Never in her entire life had she heard Victoria exchange recipes with someone.

“Well, do send me that recipe. And I’ll have Ina jot down that shrimp salad recipe.” Pause. “No, she speaks English. When she wants to,” Victoria added with a bit of
tone
.

Nikki met her mother’s gaze and mouthed,
Who are you talking to?

Ellie,
Victoria mouthed back. Then, “It is quite a privilege, and I thank God every day for my good fortune.”

Ellie? Who’s Ellie?
Nikki mouthed.

Victoria motioned as if placing a crown on her head.

The queen? Victoria was speaking to Queen Elizabeth? Nothing would surprise her . . .

Frowning, Nikki got up and went to a small refrigerator, choosing a bottle of sparkling water. Her mother was still going on about Ina and the shrimp salad.

Nikki unscrewed the cap and took a drink. The bubbles tickled her nose. She was thinking about the houses her company currently had for sale in the price range and area Mrs. Hearst was interested in. There were plenty of houses on the market, but they always tried to show Windsor properties first, for obvious reasons.

Victoria was laughing again, and Nikki was intrigued. Who could her mother be talking to? Nikki didn’t know anyone named Ellie. Though Victoria had a large circle of
acquaintances,
she had a small group of
friends
, and her mother had never been one for chatting on the phone.

“Yes, yes, but we’ll talk again,” Victoria said. “Send me that recipe and you have a wonderful birthday. Enjoy that cake and have a slice for me.” She was still chuckling as she hit the off button on the cordless phone and dropped it on the couch beside her.

“Who was that?” Nikki asked.

“You never were good at lipreading, Nicolette. I told you. It was Ellie.”

“Ellie who? Queen Ellie?”

“Queen Ellie of what country? Who said she was a queen?” Victoria tucked her feet up beneath her. She was wearing the sheepskin boots Nikki had given her two Christmases before. They looked cute on her, and very hip with the jogging suit.

“I don’t know what country, Mother.
You
were the one saying she was a queen.” Nikki imitated her mother’s hand gestures, pulling an imaginary crown over her own head.

Victoria scowled. “She was the birthday girl, not the queen! That was my birthday girl mime. Remind me not to play charades with you.”

“What birthday girl?” Then Nikki realized who she was talking about. Julius the bellhop’s grandmother in Idaho.
Her
name was Eleanor. “Oh my gosh! You called her? You actually called Eleanor in Idaho to wish her a happy birthday?”

Victoria reached for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, but seeing Nikki’s frown, left them where they were. “Of course I called her. I told you I would, didn’t I? You called and asked me and I said I would, so I did. Her birthday isn’t until Sunday. I may call her again on Sunday,” she thought aloud. “Make her day.”

“I can’t believe you called her.” Nikki was smiling as she sat on the edge of the couch beside her mother and gave her a big hug. “That was so nice of you.”

“My fans are important to me. Are you saying I’m not nice?”

“Not at all. I’m saying you are.” Nikki took a sip of water. “I wouldn’t have blamed you a bit if you didn’t want to call. It’s got to be awkward.”

“It wasn’t awkward. Ellie was very pleasant. Spunky for eighty years old. She still drives; she has an F150, whatever that is. I told you I would help you with your investigation. I was helping.”

Nikki’s recollection was that her mother had been
against
any involvement in Jessica’s case, but she knew better than to bring up that little tidbit. “I appreciate your help,” she said, meaning it. “I’ll give her grandson a call in a day or two, if I haven’t heard from him. See if he found out what name Rex was using at the Sunset.”

“What are you going to do with the information?”

“I don’t know.” She took another sip of water. “But I’m learning that it’s smart to just keep asking questions. And listen. I just have to keep in mind that everything I hear isn’t necessarily the truth. Guess what I found out today?”

Her mother eyed the cigarettes. “I can’t imagine.”

“Rex was cheating on Edith with a girl who worked at a diner on Santa Monica.”

“I imagine he was cheating on Edith with many waitresses from many diners.”

The way Victoria said it, the way she fluttered her lashes, made Nikki want to laugh.

“Did
she
kill him?” Victoria asked.

“Who? Edith? I don’t think so.”

Victoria motioned impatiently. “The waitress. Try to keep up, Nicolette.”

“I don’t see how she could have. She was a little bitty thing. Seemed like a nice girl. Too nice to be wrapped up with Rex March.”

“Anything short of a snake would be too good to get wrapped up with Rex,” Victoria said with a sniff. “I don’t think you can discount her, though. Edith or the waitress.”

“Mother, how can you say such a thing about Edith? You like her.”

“The fact that I like her has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not Edith could have killed her husband. In fact, the fact that I
am
fond of her makes it
more
likely she put an end to her own misery. I like a woman who can take charge of her own life.”

“The police are saying the body was moved.” She put her knee on the couch so she was facing her mother. “After Rex was dead, someone picked him up, transported him somehow, and put him in Jessica’s bed. Edith could never have carried Rex.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. If you’re going to seriously look into this matter, you have to keep an open mind. Do you remember
Curiously Dead
?” she said, naming a who-done-it she’d done in the seventies. “No one suspected the mild-mannered neighbor. She was a small woman and Alex was a tall man. Not as heavy as Rex, though, and his breath wasn’t as bad.”

“Wasn’t that Gregory Peck who played Alex?”

Victoria smiled. “He was
such
a gentleman. Handsome. God rest his soul.” She reached out to pat Nikki’s hand. “Now tell me what else you’ve found out.”

“Well, I was actually following a lead I was given in the bathroom at the Beverly Hills Country Club. Don’t ask. But I found out the lead was just gossip. Sort of. I’d been told Thompson Christopher was having an affair with the waitress, which I was half hoping was true because he missed several appointments the day Rex was found in Jessica’s bed. And he is big enough to have moved Rex.”

“Well, what did Thompson say? Where was he Monday?”

“I didn’t ask yet. He wasn’t all that receptive when I tried to talk with him the other day.” She took another sip of the water. “When I was talking to Tiffany the waitress, who did
not
have an affair with Thompson, but
did
with Rex,” Nikki clarified, “she said something very interesting. She said that when Rex’s plane crashed—”

“Which he wasn’t on,” Victoria interrupted.

“Right.” Nikki nodded. “Anyway, she said that at the time, she suspected Alex Ramirez had sabotaged the plane, causing the crash and his death.”

“Which wasn’t true either.”

“No,” Nikki conceded. “But the point is that she seemed to think Ramirez had something to do with Rex’s death. Don’t you think it’s odd that this waitress would even know Ramirez’s name?” She shrugged. “I’m not saying Ramirez did anything so convoluted as causing a plane crash, but what if, like the rumor I heard in the bathroom, there’s some truth buried in there somewhere? Ramirez was Rex’s lawyer
and
his agent. What if—”

“Nicolette, I have to put my foot down here. I don’t want you anywhere near Alex Ramirez. He has
connections
.”

“Connections?” Nikki waited for her mother to elaborate but all Victoria did was nod solemnly. “What kind of connections, Mother?”

“Mafia. Las Vegas.”

Nikki stared at her. “Is there even such a thing as
Las Vegas Mafia
?” She paused. “By the way, speaking of Vegas, I saw my brother today. He was wearing the suit from
King Creole
. The gold one.”

Victoria rose and went to her dressing table, picking up a little glass jar of moisturizer.

“He seemed good,” Nikki added.

“On his meds?” Victoria asked, her tone painfully neutral.

“I think so. Maybe.” Nikki exhaled, leaning back on the couch and stretching out. “Who knows? But he looked healthy. At least he’s eating.”

“Did he say anything about coming home?”

“He didn’t.” She decided not to bring up Jimmy’s suggestion that perhaps Victoria had been the one who killed Rex. “He came into the diner while I was looking for Tiffany. Who, actually, no longer works in the diner. She’s at Barney’s Beanery on Santa Monica now. I tracked her down there.”

Victoria rubbed moisturizer into her cheeks in a circular motion. “I’m sure her mother’s proud. So what are
we
going to do about speaking with Ramirez?”

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