The Bad Always Die Twice (28 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Crane

BOOK: The Bad Always Die Twice
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Seeing a note she’d jotted down about the autopsy report, Nikki next called Rob and left him a cryptic message, asking “Detective Bastone” if he could get a copy of the “paperwork” they had discussed. She wasn’t sure if there would be anything in the autopsy report that would help her, or what she was going to do with the information, but it just made sense for her to know if there were any interesting details.

Her last call before going out to show two homes was to Jeremy. He was at work, but she wanted to leave him a message. She had a little surprise for him. The night before, when she’d been riding home with Mother (Victoria had insisted Amondo drive them in the Bentley), Victoria had handed her an envelope with two courtside tickets to see the Lakers Saturday night. It was a pre-season game, but Jeremy loved basketball. Victoria thought it would be a fun date and even went so far as to offer to find an “overnight babysitter.”

As Jeremy’s phone rang, Nikki dug for a power bar in the top drawer of her desk. It was already three and the only thing she’d eaten today was some whole wheat toast she’d shared with Oliver and Stanley at seven a.m., after their morning walk, and the lemonade at Edith’s. Her stomach was growling.

“Hey.”

“Jeremy!” Nikki pulled a slightly flattened bar from her drawer. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up.” She laughed, a little flustered.

“Well, it
is
my cell phone, hon.”

“But you’re working. You never answer your phone when you’re working.”

“My three o’clock crown prep cancelled. I’m running down to the bookstore to get a book on science fair projects.”

“Science fair projects! I love science fair projects.”

“Good. I’ll put you in charge. Our first one is due November first.”

She could hear traffic in the background.

“What’s up?” he asked. “It’s not like you to call in the middle of the day.”

“I wanted to see if there was any way you could get away Saturday night . . . for a date.”

“With you?” he teased.

“Very funny.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to check the kids’—”

“To see the Lakers,” she interrupted. “Courtside.”

“You’re kidding! Let me guess, Victoria got tickets?”

“Who else?” She laughed. “You don’t think
I
have those kinds of connections, do you? Apparently, she was shopping in La Perla for camis and ran into one of the owners of the Sacramento Kings.”

“Only your mother can make that kind of connection over underwear,” Jeremy said.

“Only my mother. So the Kings are playing the Lakers and I’ve got tickets. Can you go?”

“Definitely, maybe.” He groaned. “I hope. This is really nice, Nikki. Of you
and
Victoria. I’m almost sure I can make it happen. Can I let you know?” he said hopefully.

“Sure. And if you can’t make it, I’m sure one of my newfound friends, like the bellhop at the Sunset Tower Hotel, can.”

“What?”

She laughed. “Never mind. Go buy your book on science fair projects. Call me tonight after you put the kids to bed.”

“Will do.”

Nikki grabbed her Prada and the power bar and ran for the door.

 

Both showings were a bust. She showed the first client an opulent home in Bel Air built in the style of an eighteenth-century French palace with two-story columns, gilded moldings and striking chandeliers. The client didn’t realize that a French palace (a style she said she adored) would be ornate. She was looking for a contemporary home—something she had not told Nikki when they’d spent an hour discussing her likes and dislikes. The second client didn’t like anything about the Italian villa in Beverly Park. With nine bedrooms, fifteen bathrooms, and twenty-six thousand square feet, the client was afraid the home wouldn’t be large enough for her four-member family.

Making appointments to show both clients additional houses over the next three days, Nikki finished her day job and then headed for Ramirez’s office. It would be seven by the time she arrived, but she wasn’t looking for Ramirez. Not yet. She was hoping she might bump into someone in the building working late, maybe a security cop or a janitor. She needed to find someone who had seen Ramirez, or Rex, or better yet, both together, the night Rex was murdered.

Nikki walked up and down the street in front of Ramirez’s office building and the one next door. The buildings were unusual for L.A.; they actually had their own parking lots. Most office buildings had gone to parking garages ages ago. By this time of evening, the lots were almost empty. Nikki walked into the lobby of Ramirez’s building. There was no security desk—too small a building, probably. According to the directory, there were only seven offices in the building. Nikki was standing near the elevator, considering going up to Ramirez’s floor just to snoop around, when she heard someone coming down the hall. She turned around to see who approached.

“Can I help you?” asked a man in his late twenties with shaggy, dark hair and a mustache. He was wearing khaki pants and a matching shirt and carrying a black bag of garbage. “Everyone’s gone home for the day.”

“Mr. Ramirez’s office staff gone, too?”

He spun the garbage bag and tied it with a twisty-tie. He reminded Nikki a little of Johnny Depp. “Just me and the dust bunnies.”

“Ah.” She smiled
the smile
. “So, you provide custodial services?”

He smirked. “I’m the janitor. But it’s not a bad job. Pays good and I pretty much work on my own. I do three buildings on this street. Five till one. As long as I do my job, my boss stays off my case.”

Nikki took a step toward him. “Do you work weekends?”

“Just Saturday.”

“Every Saturday?” she asked.

“Every Saturday.”

“Do . . . do people here in the building work on weekends?”

“They work all kinds of crazy hours. I like it better when they don’t.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m kind of a loner.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he said slyly. Then, “Teddy. Teddy Cruz.”

“Nikki Harper.” She offered her hand and he dropped the bag of garbage to shake it.

“So why are you snooping around here, Nikki Harper?”

“Snooping?” she asked, surprised by his forthrightness. “I wasn’t snooping.”

“I saw you when you pulled into the parking lot. You walked up and down the street, then all the way around the building. You checked out the cars in the parking lot and you spent a couple of minutes checking out the directory. You didn’t need to ask about Mr. Ramirez’s staff. You already knew the place was empty.”

She half-smiled. “Maybe I was snooping, Teddy. Well, not so much
snooping
, as . . . having a look around. Were you working three weekends ago on a Saturday night?”

“I work every Saturday night, five to one. I told you that.” He looked her over more closely. “You a cop?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. P.I.?”

“Sort of.” She spun her finger. “So back to that Saturday night. It was October second.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

“Was Mr. Ramirez working?”

“He
works
a lot of nights,” he said, an odd tone in his voice. “He’s got a lot of different assistants, if you know what I mean.” He winked.

Nikki lifted a brow. If it worked for Victoria, it could work for her. “Was Mr. Ramirez, um, working
that
night?”

“Did his wife send you? Did she, like, hire you to follow her husband? Catch him cheating on her so she can divorce him and take him to the cleaners in the settlement? That’s why I’m never getting married. Not that I have anything for anyone to take from me at the cleaners.” He chuckled at his own joke. “My girlfriend keeps talking about getting married. But no way.”

“I wasn’t hired by Mrs. Ramirez. But this is important, Teddy. Do you know if Ramirez was working that night?”

He pushed the trash bag with the toe of his brown work boot. “Mmm. Don’t know. His car wasn’t here.” He shrugged again.

“But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t. Sometimes he parks down the street and walks over.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I guess so if his wife sends a P.I. after him, it won’t be so obvious that he’s dicking around.”

She nodded. “So . . . you don’t know if he was working that night.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Can’t remember or don’t want to say?”

He gave her a shy smile. “Can’t say. That Saturday night, I was kind of . . . off the job for a while.”

“Off the job?”

He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “You don’t work for Teeter, do you?”

“Teeter?”

“Mr. Teeter, my boss.”

She shook her head. “I don’t work for anyone. Well, I do. I’m a real estate broker; I’m doing this for a friend. A friend who’s in trouble.”

“She one of Mr. Ramirez’s
assistants
?”

Nikki laughed. It wasn’t probable, but it was certainly possible. “No. Not that I know of.” She moved her bag to her other shoulder. “So that night. Did you . . . leave? Is that why you’re not sure if Mr. Ramirez was in the building?”

“I didn’t exactly leave,” he said sheepishly. “See . . . my girlfriend and I got in this big fight Friday night. It was over something stupid, but she threw my crap out in the hallway of our apartment building. Then she tweeted all her friends and told them what a jerk I was. I cut out and spent the night with a buddy. Came to work Saturday and she stopped by. Apologized. Begged me to come home.” Another sheepish grin.

“Did you and your girlfriend maybe go off for a while?” she asked.

The grin grew more sheepish. “We were in the car.”

“Ah.” A good reason not to be peeking into parked cars, she supposed.

“But Mr. Ramirez might have been here because there was a car leaving when I got out of my girlfriend’s car. And it wasn’t Mr. Ramirez’s.”

“What kind of car?”

He thought for a minute. “A white Benz. Nice. It went tearing out of here.”

“A white Benz? You’re sure?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

“No. Wait. The car that burned rubber out of the parking lot was a BMW. The Benz was parked. Later, after I went back to work, I remember looking out the window and noticing it was gone, too.”

“You saw a BMW speeding away?” Nikki asked. “What color was it?”

He thought for a moment. “Blue. Three hundred series, I think. The little one.”

A blue BMW. Tiffany had a blue BMW . . .

Nikki looked up at the janitor. She was already trying to decide what her next move would be. She needed to talk to Thompson, and Rob, and maybe Edith’s staff again. And the car attendant at the airport. “Thanks a lot, Teddy. You’ve been a big help.”

She walked out of the lobby into the parking lot. But first things first. Tiffany.

 

Nikki was waiting for her when she walked out of Barney’s Beanery at the end of her shift. When Tiffany spotted Nikki getting out of the car, Nikki thought for a minute that the girl was going to run. Instead, Tiffany walked, deflated, shoulders sagging, to Nikki’s car.

“Tiffany, after you went to the party that Saturday night, did you go to Alex Ramirez’s office?”

“What?” She grimaced. “No.
Wheye
would
Ah
go
tuh
his office?
Ah
don’ even know where it is.”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. Were you having relations with Ramirez?”

The girl looked at Nikki as if she’d asked if the girl had cooties. “You mean sex? Ewww. No.”

“Did you follow Rex there, then? Argue with him?”

She opened her eyes wide. “No! No,
Ah deid
not.
Ah
already tol’ you exac’ly what
Ah
done.”

“But you lied to me before, Tiffany,” Nikki pointed out. “What if you’re lying to me now?”


Ah’m
not. This is dif-rent.” She walked to her own car.

Nikki followed her. “Tiffany, someone saw your car that Saturday night in Ramirez’s parking lot. They also saw Rex’s rental car there. They saw you speed away.”

“They
deid
not because
Ah
wasn’t there.” She thrust her key into the lock of her car door. “
Ah
swear
Ah
wasn’t.”

“Then why would someone say you were?” Nikki put her hand on the girl’s arm.

Tears ran down Tiffany’s cheeks. “
Ah
wasn’ there.
Ah
swear it.
Ah
left
Reyx’s
house and
Ah
went straight home and
Ah hade
cupa-noodles fur din-ner and
Ah
changed my kitty’s litter box.” She sniffed and turned big eyed to look at Nikki. “Ya think someone’s tryin’
tuh
frame me?”

Nikki scowled. She didn’t know who or what to believe anymore. “Why would they?”

Tiffany squared her shoulders. “
Ah
don’t know. But ya said yer friend didn’ kill
Reyx
but he was found
deid
in
her
apartment. If someone might be tryin’
tuh
frame her, maybe he’s doin’ the same thin’
tuh
me.”

What if Tiffany was right?

Nikki was still standing in the parking lot when Tiffany drove away in her beat-up car, smoke belching from the tailpipe. From the sound of the engine, the car was on its last legs. Could Tiffany
burn rubber
if she tried?

As Tiffany drove away in a cloud of blue smoke, it occurred to Nikki that she hadn’t brought Thompson’s name up to her again. In the back of her mind, she was still wondering if there was some connection between Tiffany and Thompson.

Maybe it was time to just ask him.

Chapter 24

N
ikki knew that Edith knew that she’d come for more than a signature on the mold inspection report for the house. Nikki also knew that Edith knew that, for now at least, Edith’s secret about knowing that Rex was alive and her argument with him was safe. It was Edith’s fear that Nikki would go to the police implicating both her and Thompson as suspects that most likely motivated her to
invite
Nikki over.

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