Chapter 15
Nikki and the boys
checked into The Clift, and, luckily, Simon and Marco wanted some
alone time. She agreed to meet up with them later in the lobby for
a glass of wine and “an evening out on the town.” To the boys that
meant starting around eight. No idea what could be in store with
that, but she was determined to go with it. That was just in case
her phone call to Derek didn’t work. She really needed a glass of
wine before dialing his number. A little liquid courage could come
in handy at that moment, but more than that, she needed a clear
head, and only had a couple of hours to use it.
She dialed Derek’s
office number and got his voice mail, then tried his cell with no
luck. She sucked it up with the third call and got his answering
machine at home. It was after hours at the winery and he wasn’t
answering any of his numbers. Was he screening his calls? What if
he didn’t want to talk to her at all?
She looked at the clock on the side table next to the bed in her
room. It was a little after five. He was probably out on his
evening walk or having a glass of wine with the staff. Occasionally
he hung in there for the employees’ nightly ritual of mixing and
matching potions to see who had the potential to be the next
winemaker. It was a joke among the crew. Nikki didn’t participate
much, as she liked to get either a walk or another run in before
imbibing. Plus she wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to drink
every day. The man who she thought was her father for the first
seven years of her life made a practice of tippling the bottle
daily, and because of it he wound up dead.
She chewed on the
side of her lip as Derek’s message played out. Then after the beep
she went for it. “Hi, Derek, it’s me, Nikki. Listen, I think there
is a misunderstanding between us about the other night. You know,
about dinner. We really need to talk. I would love it if you came
into the city tomorrow, and had dinner with me. On me. I mean, I’ll
pay. I hope you come. We’re staying at The Clift. Uh, if you want
to meet me, call me on my cell. I’m thinking around seven.” The
machine ran out of time. Smooth. Real smooth. Nothing like sounding
like an idiot, and a desperate one at that. No time to sulk. She
had a few more phone calls to make. She needed to speak with
Susan’s sister Jennifer, and hopefully Blake Sorgensen. The other
star in those very risqué photos she’d seen at the Waltman Castle
had finally returned from his jaunt to Cabo.
She decided to call
Jennifer first, after finding the number listed under Susan’s name.
Her odds thus far of Blake answering his phone didn’t seem to be in
her favor.
After the first ring,
a woman answered. “Where are you?” she hissed.
“Uh, excuse
me?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought
you were someone else. I have a date tonight and he’s late.
Who’s this?”
“Hi. I’m Nikki Sands
and I knew Susan Jennings.”
“Who didn’t know her?
What do you need?”
“Is this
Jennifer?”
“Yes? Again, what the
hell do you want?”
Nice phone manners.
What had Nikki expected? It wasn’t as if Jennifer Jennings exuded
class the other day at the wedding and thereafter during the police
interrogation. “I’m having a hard time with accepting Susan’s
murder. You see, I also know the woman who has been accused of her
murder, and I don’t think she did it.” Staying as close to the
truth as possible. Putting into practice that new motto of
hers.
“The police think she
did it.”
“I understand that,
but I’m not so sure. I was wondering if maybe I could come by so
that you might answer a few questions for me?”
“Are you like some
detective or something?”
Nikki recognized that
Jennifer was becoming irritated with her and knew she had to do
something quick to keep her on the line. “I’m not a detective. Like
I said, I would hate to see an innocent woman go to jail, wouldn’t
you?”
“No. What? I don’t
give a rat’s ass.”
New tactic needed
here. “Fine. Indulge me, please. I’ll buy you a drink or
two.”
A sigh came across
the phone. “Tell you what, why don’t you make your way to my
place.” She gave her the address on Brannan Street, close to the
embarcadero, in the North Beach area. “If I’m still here and Paulo
hasn’t shown up, maybe I’ll go have a drink with you, just so I can
get the hell outta here, and then when he does show up and I’m not
here, it’ll teach him a lesson never to do that to me
again.”
“I’ll be there in ten
minutes.” Nikki hung up the phone. Her call to Sorgensen would have
to wait. She prayed Paulo wouldn’t beat her to the punch. She ran a
quick comb through her hair and applied lip gloss. Then jetted down
the stairs and hailed a cab.
Nikki handed the
cabbie a ten and didn’t wait for any change when he pulled up a few
minutes later near Ghirardelli Square. Susan and Pamela’s place was
located around the block from the square, but the cabbie couldn’t
park because it was Friday evening and the area was filled with
tourists.
She walked the block
and found the building where she pressed the intercom. Someone had
spent some cash to get into this place, with its complete Victorian
charm painted in a royal blue and trimmed in teal. Nikki couldn’t
see Susan living here. It was too cool. Pamela, maybe, but
Susan?
“Is that you, Paulo?”
a voice rang out over the intercom system.
“No, actually it’s
me, Nikki Sands.”
A minute later the
front door swung open. On the other side stood the woman Nikki
remembered as Jennifer Jennings. She wore another slinky dress like
the one she had worn at the wedding, although this one was in
fuchsia and barely covered her ass. If stereotypes proved true in
this case, it was starting to appear as if the Jennings girls were
not exactly raised with much couth, especially
Jennifer.
Nikki recalled those
few moments at the wedding when she witnessed the two siblings
arguing, and then, watched as Susan gave her sister a check. Had
Jennifer been riding on her sister’s coattails? If so, how much of
the money that Susan was giving her had come from Susan’s bank
account versus Kristof ’s? It wouldn’t make a good motive for
murder to kill off the goose laying the golden eggs. However, Nikki
also couldn’t forget the hatred for Susan in Jennifer’s eyes,
followed by the complacency Jennifer seemed to express over her
death.
“Come on in. My
jerk-off boyfriend still hasn’t made it, and I’ve been calling his
freaking cell phone all afternoon. He better have a good excuse is
all I have to say, because if he continues to pull this crap with
me, I might have to call it quits. Men! You know what I mean, don’t
you?”
Nikki nodded.
Befriending Jennifer was probably going to be the best route to
take. “Don’t I ever, girlfriend.”
Jennifer turned on
her four-inch heels that were straight out of a strip club, and
raised an eyebrow to her. She turned back around, click-clacking on
the walnut hardwoods inlaid with a decorative diamond of pine every
third plank. The pattern was gorgeous, and, once inside the living
room, the pattern switched with the pine floor being the main wood
in the space. Jennifer Jennings was living in style.
Maybe calling her
girlfriend wasn’t so sharp.
Once inside the main
rooms of the house Nikki could see where it reflected Susan—a lot
of chrome and black and cream, with fresh purple lilies in a vase
on top a black and cream marble coffee table. Susan must’ve had a
lily fetish. The main room opened up into the kitchen, which had to
have been great for entertaining purposes.
Jennifer swung open
the door on the chrome refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of
Stoli from the freezer. “Screw waiting to get to a club for a
drink. Maybe the loser will show up by the time we’re
done.”
The kitchen
atmosphere was a bit warmer than the living room because of a
gorgeous set of cherry cabinets, which were carried all along one
wall into a dining area as they scaled down from full cabinets to a
book shelf.
Jennifer wagged the
vodka at her. “Want some? I need to take the edge off. I’m telling
you, if Paulo doesn’t get here soon, I’ll just about have a shit
fit.”
Wasn’t she already
doing that? “No, thanks. Some water might be nice.”
“Suit yourself.”
Jennifer first poured herself a tall glass of the vodka on ice with
a splash of club soda, then got a glass of water from the tap for
Nikki. Real congenial type. “So, you came here to talk about my
sister, huh? What do you want to know?” Jennifer leaned against the
kitchen island.
She obviously wasn’t
going to ask Nikki if she wanted to sit down. Nikki set her water
glass down opposite the hostess with the mostest. This was not a
welcome visit. “I got the feeling that you and Susan weren’t
exactly close.”
There was a long
pause. “You know there was a time, a long time ago when we were
really close, but it’s funny how time, and money change a person.”
Jennifer motioned around the condominium.
“You two didn’t have
money growing up?”
Jennifer laughed and
took a big slug of her vodka. “Shit, no. We weren’t rich
at all. I take it you didn’t know Susan
very well?”
“No. I only saw her a
few times,” Nikki replied.
“Yeah, well, even if
you knew her, she wouldn’t have told you the truth about our
upbringing.”
“You can’t be ashamed
about where you came from.” That was an out and out lie, because
shame filled Nikki every time she thought about where she came
from. “People can’t help that.”
“What are you, some
Pollyanna type or something? Of course you can be freaking ashamed,
but, hell, the truth is the truth, and as much as my sister was an
ass, she did do a damn good job of pulling herself up and out. But
she had quite a bit of help along the way, unlike some of
us.”
“What do you
mean?”
“You saw my sister,
all blonde and tall. Boobs out to here, and boy, did she know how
to use everything God or the plastic surgeon had given her to her
advantage.”
“I take it that it
hasn’t been so easy for you?”
“Easy? Easy? Ha! No
way. It’s been hell, but now I’m doing okay.” Another glance around
the condo.
“Did you inherit this
place?”
Another long pause
and swig off her drink. “Yeah, big sis finally kicked down for
something. It was like pulling teeth to get her to do it, but, you
know, who would’ve thought she would get herself killed? I figured
it was a pipe dream that I’d ever have a place like this. I know
she wanted to leave it to her bosom buddy, but I convinced her that
blood was thicker than water.”
“She had a will
then?”
“Hell, yes. She had a
lot of moolah on her own without that Kristof dude. But a lot was
never enough for her, if you know what I mean. She wanted to be the
female Trump all the way. I heard that she even tried to pick up on
Trump himself in the past, but he was all into that Melania model
chick he’s married to now. He blew old Sis off like she was
nothing. Kinda funny, I think, cause my sister had this theory that
she could get any man in bed and then empty out his pocketbook.
With most men she was right.”
“You mentioned her
bosom buddy? Are you talking about Pamela Leiland?”
“The one and only.
Those two are or were two peas in a pod.”
“They knew each other
for a while, I take it?” Nikki asked and took a sip of her
water.
“I guess. I hadn’t
seen my sister until like the last six months, when I saw her in a
photo in one of those glossy magazines. You know, of the rich and
famous, and there she was, all boobs and smiles and willing to die
for Kristof Waltman and flashing that humongous diamond ring of
hers in the picture. I figured I’d better get my ass out here when
I saw that, and congratulate the happy couple in
person.”
“Where were you
living?”
“In a freaking pit in
Phoenix, and my sister glamming it up kinda got me thinking that
blood is thicker than water, and she was my only living relative,
and, well, you know, family shouldn’t be so far apart from one
another. I told her if she put me on the payroll that I would keep my mouth shut about where
she really came from. I got the impression that her moneybags new
hubby didn’t have a clue what she was all about. I know he had an
idea there was no money for us growing up, but he didn’t know the
extent of the story. That much I’m sure of.”
Nikki shifted her
weight from one foot to the other. She was starting to dislike
Jennifer as much as she had Susan. She was an opportunist. Nikki
knew that several of her family members could easily become just
that if they learned that she was earning a decent figure these
days.
The front door
slammed, and Jennifer’s head snapped around. Nikki turned to see
the man who had accompanied Jennifer to the wedding the other day,
all tall, muscular, good-looking in a kind of slimy way. Like a
greased up Antonio Banderas. His dark eyes were shrouded with a
long fringe of lashes. Damn, if he didn’t look like he’d just
walked straight out of one of The Godfather flicks.
He walked over and
lifted Jennifer off her feet. “Hi, love muffin.”
That was gross. Love
muffin? Eeww.
Jennifer laughed and
then suddenly remembered that she was angry with him as she beat
her fists into him. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He
kissed her in what some would call a passionate kiss; to Nikki it
was nothing short of disgusting. “I was in a meeting with
the boss, and I told you before how
that can go.”
The boss. Nikki’s mind went into a tailspin as her
imagination got carried away with her. What if Jennifer convinced
her sister to include her in her will, then the boyfriend, old
Paulo, who it sounded like had some kind of mafia connection—for
God’s sakes, who emphasizes boss the way he just did?—and Jennifer
decided to axe Susan and take the plush condo and whatever else
they could get their hands on? And, now Nikki was standing right
there in the middle of them. What if they turned on her because she
was sniffing around? It wasn’t like Jennifer had held back any of
her feelings toward her sister and the way she’d wormed her way
into Susan’s will.
Paulo’s gaze turned
toward Nikki. “Who is this?” he asked in a smarmy way, trying in
Nikki’s estimation to be charming. Not even on the
chart.
“Oh, her? That’s
Nikki . . .”
Nikki stretched out
her hand and Paulo took it in his and kissed it. Double eeww!
“Sands.” She finished the introduction for Jennifer.
“Yeah, she’s got some
questions about Susan. She doesn’t think that chick they threw in
the slammer out in Sonoma did it. She’s her friend.” Jennifer
cocked her head to the side, placed a hand on her jutted out hip,
then picked up her glass for a drink of the vodka mix.
Nikki tightened her
purse strap over her shoulder. “I think I should probably be
heading out. I know you two have plans.”
“Wait a minute. Wait
a freaking minute,” Jennifer said. “What the hell is this?” Nikki
watched as Jennifer pointed out lipstick stains on Paulo’s white
button-down. “You haven’t been in a meeting. You’ve been screwing
someone else. I told you, Paulo. I freaking told you that if you
pulled that shit again on me then you were a goner, and I freaking
mean it. Damn you.” She slapped him hard across the face, and
turned around, storming out of the room, vodka drink still in hand.
“And, by the time I walk back in here, you better be freaking
gone!” A slam of the door resounded from the back of the
condominium.
Nikki tried to smile
at Paulo. This was awkward.
He turned to her.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s nothing. She’ll be out in fifteen
with a new outfit on, cause I set a present on the bed for her when
I first came in. See, I snuck in first, put the present on the bed,
and then came back and shut the front door, so she wouldn’t know.
Now she’ll be all giddy, because there is nothing that woman likes
more than gifts. She’ll forget all about being upset with me.
Besides, it was just my secretary giving me a kiss good night, you
know, like a friendly kiss on the cheek. Once Jen mellows out, I
can explain it to her and she’ll get back with the
program.”
Sure, fella.
Whatever. “I really need to get going. Can you tell her that I said
goodbye?”
“You don’t want to
stick around? We’ll take you for some dinner. If you’ve got some
questions about Susie, I can probably answer them. I know a thing
or two about Miss High and Mighty.”
This piqued Nikki’s
interest, but, dammit, she really wanted to get the hell out of
this place with the two wannabe Sopranos actors, and move on to her next freak
show. Never in a million years would she have thought she would’ve
looked forward to hanging out with the Boys of Summer at a drag
queen show, but, by golly, at that moment that sounded like a
top-of-the-line option. “That’s fine. I have plans for dinner
already myself.”
“Too bad.” He pulled
out one of his cards and flipped it to her. “If you change your
mind, give me a ring. We can meet up for lunch or something.” He
winked at her.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll do
that.” Nikki headed for the door and didn’t breathe until she’d
closed it behind her and headed down towards the square to mix in
with the crowd milling around. She wanted to get far away from that
condo, because those two inside that place were definitely
nutcases, and possibly murderers as well.