The Dead and the Beautiful (23 page)

He didn't answer right away. Then, “You want to tell me why I should?”

“Nah.”

“Well, it so happens that I have.”

“And,” Nikki said, “you found out that he's been making a deposit the first week of every month. A large one,” she dared. It was just speculation, of course. “I'd even go so far as to guess the first Friday of every month.”

Again, quiet.

“I'd also guess that if you were to subpoena Alison Sahira's bank accounts records, which I'm sure you already have, you would not find withdrawals of the same amount around the same date each month.”

“You saying that Ryan Melton was blackmailing someone, but not Alison?”

She could tell by the tone of his voice that everything she had said was correct. He already knew Ryan was getting money from somewhere. He did not, however, know where it was coming from. But he knew it wasn't from Alison.

“You want to get together and talk about this?” Dombrowski asked.

Nikki thought about Hazel and Betsy. Had one of them killed him? It was certainly possible, but the fact that Angel had been out jogging the same time poor Ryan was getting himself killed nagged at her. It couldn't just be coincidence that he was out jogging when his supposed friend was being murdered, could it? “Nah,” she said to Dombrowski. “Not yet.”

“Nikki—”

“Sorry. Gotta run, Detective. Have a nice weekend.”

Chapter 23

T
he following morning, Saturday, Nikki gathered her dogs' leashes and a travel water bowl for them. Jocelyn had gone with Jeremy and his kids to LEGOLAND. Alison had left earlier to meet with a potential client. She'd lost several jobs due to her arrest, but interestingly enough, the idea that she could possibly have committed a murder intrigued some people. Alison said she was getting enough calls that she could choose which jobs to take.

As Nikki walked the dogs to the car, her cell rang. She juggled the dogs' leashes, a small bag, her phone, and a bottle of water. “Hello.”

“Nicolette.”

“Good morning, Mother.”

“How are you?” Victoria asked.

Nikki unlocked her car door. “Fine.” There was something in Victoria's tone that worried her. “Why?”

“Because, frankly, I'm worried about you. I've been thinking about this. And . . . if you won't talk to me . . . I think you should consider
seeing someone.
”

Nikki opened the back of her Prius. “See someone? Mother, what are we talking about?” She lifted Stan, then Ollie, into the kennel they shared.

Victoria exhaled impatiently. “A shrink, a therapist. Whatever you call them these days. As you know, Nicolette, I've always thought that things that are private should remain so. I don't believe in airing unmentionables in an office any more than in public, but—”

“Go back.” Nikki dropped the bag that contained the dogs' water bowl and water for them. “
Why
should I see a psychiatrist?”

“This is not the kind of thing we should speak of over the phone, Daughter. Where are you?”

“At my house. The boys and I are going for a walk in Runyon Canyon Park.” Nikki's plan was to see if there was anyone there who knew Alison. Alison took her clients' pets there all the time. There was a certain camaraderie between dog owners; maybe Nikki could learn something about Jeremy's sister she didn't already know. If not, at least she'd have a nice morning with the dogs before meeting her friend Ellen for lunch. Maybe a walk in the sunshine would help her work through the information she'd gathered yesterday.

“Ah. Fresh air and exercise will be good for you,” Victoria declared. “I could use a nice walk. Come get me and we'll go together. We can talk.”

“Mother—”

The phone clicked.

Nikki groaned. Then headed to Roxbury to pick up Victoria.

 

“We should have taken the Bentley,” Victoria complained as they got out of Nikki's Prius. “There's more room. It's a very nice car.”

“It
is
a nice car,” Nikki agreed, letting the dogs out of the kennel. “But not really the kind of car one takes to the park.”

Nikki led Stanley and Oliver through the secondary gates to the area of the park where she would be able to let them run off-leash.

If she was alone, she might have taken the trail up to Indian Rock. Hero Trail was the toughest hike in the park, with a slope that led to the spine of the ridge, where there were amazing views to the west and to the south. But no hike to the ridge today, not with two dogs and a mother.

“Isn't this lovely,” Victoria remarked. She was dressed in a pale blue jogging suit, pristine white athletic shoes, and, of course, her pearls. Big sunglasses rounded out her ensemble.

Nikki leaned down to release the spaniels. “There aren't many public places dogs can run off-leash. I think it's great that the city allows it here.”

The dogs took off, but only ran ten feet before looping back to circle Nikki and Victoria.

“So what were you talking about this morning when you suggested I see a psychiatrist?” They walked side by side. Nikki was wearing black yoga capris and a worn blue T-shirt.

Victoria glanced at her. “I think this business with Jeremy's sister has brought up . . . feelings in you. About what happened.”

“I'm fine.”

There were at least a dozen other dogs running around: two pugs, a French bulldog, three Labs, a Bernese mountain dog, and several mutts.

“It was a terrible thing, Nicolette. You did what you had to do to protect yourself, and your friend. But that doesn't mean—”

“I don't think about it. Ever. Alison's arrest has nothing to do with me,” Nikki said, feeling as uncomfortable as her mother sounded.

Victoria had been there that night for Nikki after Nikki killed Albert Tinsley with his own handgun. But she and her mother didn't talk about it. They
never
talked about it.

“No, actually, it does,” Nikki admitted. She glanced at her mother, then at the dogs running ahead of them. Stanley had stopped to sniff the black Bernese mountain dog. “But only because you taught me how important it is to stand by someone you think is being falsely accused.”

Victoria adjusted her sunglasses. “I would have stood by you, had you been guilty.”

The tears that stung her eyes surprised Nikki. She was glad she was wearing sunglasses; otherwise, she would have been embarrassed. She looked up to check on the dogs. Ollie had already plopped himself down in the grass, but Stan was still checking out the Bernese that was apparently part of an entourage. A pug sat beside the Bernese, and a Golden Lab circled them both. “Come on, Stan,” she called. “He's a lot bigger than you are. He'll eat you for an appetizer.”

The woman with the Bernese laughed. She was a slender blonde wearing a bandanna and hiking shorts. Early thirties. Three dog leashes hung from a carabiner hooked to a loop on her shorts. “Don't worry,” she called. “He's a big sweetie.”

“Stanley!” Nikki called, slapping her thigh. He ignored Nikki. “Sorry,” she said, approaching them. Victoria kept walking along the path.

“No problem. Stanley and Bingo are buddies. Aren't you, guys?” The blonde leaned down to scratch Stan's head. Bingo just stood there, looking like a big, black bear, tongue lolling contentedly.

“Oh?” Nikki said. “You know Stan and Ollie?” She pointed to Oliver, who was rolling in the grass, probably in something disgusting.

“We're friends, aren't we, Bingo?” the blonde said.

“What a cute name.” Nikki put out her hand. “Okay if I pet him?”

“Bingo's cool.”

As was Bingo's owner. She was wearing amber aviator glasses with her bandanna tied like a cap. Sort of a chic, hippie look.

“Nikki Harper.” She gave a little wave.

“Prudence.” She slapped her forehead playfully. “I know, what were my parents thinking? And that's Roko.” She pointed to the pug seated in the grass. “And that crazy gal”—she indicated the Lab that was still running in big circles around them—“is Cindy.”

Stanley began to lick Bingo's paw, which was bigger than his little, fluffy Cavalier King Charles head.

“Nice to meet you, Prudence, Bingo, Roko, and Cindy.”

“We used to run into your dog walker all the time,” Prudence said. “That's how we know Stan and Ollie.”

“Alison?” Nikki looked up with interest, then glanced around to locate her mother.

Victoria had stopped to speak to an elderly woman.

Nikki returned her attention to Prudence. “You know Alison?”

“Yeah. Actually, we used to hang out once in a while after we left here. I'm a dog walker, too,” she explained.

Nikki nodded. She got the impression that Prudence didn't know anything about Alison's arrest.

“We'd go for coffee or a sandwich,” Prudence continued, “but then she got into party planning and she didn't have as much free time. You know, trying to juggle both businesses.”

Party planning?
Nikki thought. Alison didn't have a party planning business. She used to own a party
store,
but that was a while ago. It went bankrupt
before
she started the dog-walking business.

“When was the last time you saw Alison?” Nikki asked.

“Oh, I see her all the time. I saw her here last week. We say hi. Chat while we walk the dogs, but we haven't gone for coffee in . . . gosh, since Christmas. She doing okay?” Prudence asked.

“She's doing well. Actually, she's my boyfriend's sister, so I see her all the time.”

“Cool. Well, she's nice. Shy, but nice. I like her.”

“She is nice. And a hard worker. I . . . didn't realize she was getting back into party planning,” Nikki said, trying to sound casual. “She say who she was planning parties for?”

Prudence shook her head. “Nah, we didn't really talk about that. We talked mostly about the dogs.”

Losing interest in the Bernese, Stanley trotted away, turned his head, barked at Nikki, and headed off in the direction of Oliver and Victoria.

“Looks like you're moving on,” Prudence said, watching Stanley go.

“I guess we are.” Nikki walked away. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Prudence called after her. “Have a nice walk. Tell Alison I said hi.”

Nikki turned and waved. “I will. Enjoy the sunshine.”

When Nikki caught up to Victoria, her mother looked back at Prudence. “A friend?”

“No, Stanley just stopped to say hi. Come on, boys.” Her dogs trotted to catch up. “She said she knew Alison. That they used to get coffee after walking their dogs. She's a dog walker, too.”

“That's interesting, dear.”

“What's interesting is that she said she and Alison used to go for coffee, but then Alison got too busy with her
party planning business.
”

“What party planning business?”

Nikki frowned. “That's what I was wondering.”

 

“How do you feel about tamales?” Ellen asked as Nikki got into her new, white, Audi convertible.

“How do I
feel
about them? I feel good.”

Ellen put on her sunglasses. “I mean, do you like them? Homemade tamales?”

“Is there any food I
don't
like?”

They both laughed as Nikki buckled in and Ellen pulled away from the curb in front of Nikki's house. The two had met under unfortunate circumstances the previous year when Victoria's neighbor had been murdered, but since then, they'd become good friends.

“I want to try out a tamale place on Pasadena Avenue. Mom's Tamales. Guy told me about it.”

“Guy?” Nikki asked, pulling a scarf from her handbag to tie over her head. If they were going to hit the freeway, she'd need it. Otherwise, she'd be sporting a tangled mess for Marshall's cocktail party that evening. “As in Guy
Fieri
?”

Ellen had the most beautiful smile. She could have been a model. Instead, she became a chef. “You know him?”

“Only from watching The Food Network,” Nikki chuckled.
“Triple D: Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.”

“That's him. We've run into each other a couple of times over the last few months. Network parties and stuff. Anyway, he heard how much I love tamales, so he recommended I try these.”

“So . . . you going to end up making cupcakes that look like tamales, or vice versa, for your show?” Nikki teased.

Ellen adjusted her white ball cap. “You never know.” She signaled and turned. “So how was your morning? Have a nice walk with the doggies?”

“And Mother.”

“Your mother?” Ellen laughed. It was Victoria who had first suggested that Nikki and Ellen become friends. Ellen knew exactly what she was like. “You took Victoria hiking in Runyon Canyon?”

“We didn't hike. We went for a walk.” Nikki relaxed in the smooth leather seat. Ellen had the top down. It was warm and sunny and the breeze felt good on her face. “It was actually nice. She was on her good behavior.”

“That's always a plus.”

Nikki watched the houses, then businesses fly by as they drove out of her neighborhood and turned onto Santa Monica Boulevard. “I ran into someone who knows Alison. Another dog walker. She told me that she and Alison used to go for coffee after walking their dogs.”

“You mean before she was arrested?” Ellen knew that Alison was Jeremy's sister, and knew Nikki was looking into the circumstances of her part in Ryan's murder.

“No,” Nikki said, thinking back to her conversation with Prudence. “That's what was weird. This woman said they used to go out for coffee before Alison opened her party planning business and got too busy.”

“Why's that weird?”

Nikki looked at Ellen. “Because Alison doesn't have a party planning business. She has a dog walking business.”

Ellen frowned and adjusted her big, white, Gucci sunglasses. “I thought she had both.” She braked as the light ahead turned red.

“No, she had a party store in West Hollywood, but when the economy went south, she lost a lot of business. She ended up closing it two years ago. Then about a year ago, she started walking dogs.”

They sat at the light.

Ellen removed her sunglasses and looked at Nikki. “Nik . . . are you sure . . .” She stopped and started again. “Alison doesn't have
any
kind of party business?”

“Hasn't in years.”

Ellen thought for a minute. The light turned green and a second later, someone blew their horn behind them. She put on her sunglasses and hit the gas. “Hmm. I just assumed . . . because she asked me for a recommendation.”

“For what? When?” Nikki asked.

“Gosh, now
I
feel weird.” She glanced at Nikki, then back at the road. “Like I'm tattling on Jeremy's little sister or something.”