by Cat Chandler
Nicki smiled as she tilted her head away. “I thought a view would be nice.” As soon as she said it, Nicki mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Mario’s had only one floor and the view near the window consisted of the sidewalk and parked cars. “Of the moonlight,” she added. “You can’t see any moonlight from the back of the restaurant.”
“Well, you look great in the moonlight, babe.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “Might be more of those magical witch powers you have.”
“Uh huh.” Nicki sighed and sat in the chair Rob was holding out for her. She might be spending a long night dodging a conversation she simply didn’t want to have. At least not at this point in their relationship.
Rob reached over and took her hand. “So tell me how you’ve been since we last talked?”
“You called me last night, Rob, and we talked then. Not much has happened since.” Nicki smiled. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was to get Rob going on his favorite subject. “How did your meeting go with Mr. Rossi?” Mario Rossi was the head wine buyer for The Catalan House chain and Rob’s boss. The question worked like a charm. It only took a second for Rob to be off and running on his latest plans on getting ahead in his career. Nicki listened with half an ear and idly wondered if all the males from Italy who now lived in California were named “Mario”. Rob’s boss was Mario, the owner of the restaurant was Mario. Maybe she should do some research on those statistics the next time she did a piece featuring Italian wine.
“What did the detective say?”
Rob’s question took her off guard.
“What detective?” Arson was too small to have any detectives. Its police department only had a chief, one deputy and an office clerk, all of whom Nicki was now on a first-name basis with, thanks to finding a dead body not too long ago at a popular local winery.
“The one from New York who worked on your mother’s case?” Rob gave her hand a squeeze.
“Oh. Detective Wilson.” Nicki looked down at the linen tablecloth and bit her lower lip.
Every three months or so, Nicki would steel herself and call the NYPD detective to get an update on the progress of the investigation of her mother’s murder. Which was usually to say she called just to hear the gruff but kind detective tell her there was nothing new to report.
Julie Connors had been stabbed to death right outside her apartment building, and her killer had never been caught. It was living with the memories that had leaped out from every corner of the city that had finally driven Nicki, along with her two best friends who loved her mother almost as much as Nicki did, to move from New York out to the West coast.
She’d made a good life for herself here, in the beautiful wine country just north of San Francisco, but what had happened to the only parent she’d ever known, right in the middle of the city she’d grown up in and had always loved, could still bring Nicki to tears just at the thought of it.
Fighting the moisture gathering in her eyes, she shook her head before looking up at Rob. “He said the usual thing. No new leads, no breaks in the case yet. He gave me a different name to call. Mom’s case has been reassigned to another detective.”
“Well that sounds a little encouraging,” Rob said, his eyes and smile softening as he interlaced his fingers with hers. “A fresh perspective might be just the thing.”
Nicki shrugged. “The new detective is in the cold case squad.”
Rob blew out a breath and lifted her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m sorry, babe. The next time I’m in New York, I can go over to the police department and talk to this new detective, if you like. See if I can get your mother’s case moved to the top of the pile.”
Top of the pile. Nicki sighed. That was certainly the honest way to look at it. But just thinking of it that way made her feel as if her mom didn’t mean much. At least not to the New York City Police Department. Although Nicki knew better. They had tried their best, but the killer hadn’t left them much to go on.
The waiter interrupted the gloomy conversation to repeat the nightly specials and take their orders. After he’d delivered a very good pinot noir to their table, Rob raised his glass to Nicki.
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you that my boss was very impressed with how you solved George Lancer’s murder, and he’s completely forgiven you for running out the only night you managed to show up for his class.” Rob grinned at her.
Tucking her thoughts about her mom away for the moment, Nicki smiled back at him while indulging in a mental shrug. “Really? How very generous of him.”
Two hours later as they were getting ready to leave, the restaurant owner himself stopped by the table.
“How are you this evening? I’m sorry to be so late in greeting you tonight.” The short balding man with the bushy black mustache gave a slight bow from his waist. “I’ve had to seat the guests. Our hostess didn’t return from her break, and it took my daughter until just now before she could get here to help out. The younger generation!” Mario threw up his hands in a dramatic gesture. “They’re so quick to answer every message on their phones about hair-dos and boys but not about work.”
Nicki peered around the owner and glanced over at the hostess station where am obviously grumpy Lisa was shuffling menus. “I doubt if that has changed much over the years, Mario. But what happened to Catherine?”
Mario’s outstretched hands lifted even higher. “Who knows? One minute she’s here instead of there, then she tells me she will be taking her dinner break at home so she’s there instead of here. She needs to be more reliable.”
“Well yes, of course,” Nicki agreed. “Did you call her?”
“I had Antonio call her. She didn’t answer. She is not reliable.”
“She went home for her dinner break when she works at a restaurant?” Rob snorted as he shook his head.
Nicki shot him an exasperated look before turning her attention back to Mario. “She’s always struck me as being very responsible. She doesn’t live far from here. Do you think you should send someone to check on her?”
“I have no one to spare.” Mario sighed. “We are very busy tonight. Every chair here and in the bar is full.” He gestured toward the tables behind him before giving Nicki a pleading look. “You know where she lives, yes? Maybe you could do this small favor for me?”
Rob immediately shook his head. “I have some other plans for the evening.”
“Which I’m sure won’t suffer from making a short detour,” Nicki quickly overrode Rob’s objections. Other plans were certainly an acceptable excuse in the city, but not in a small town where everyone was expected to pitch in and help each other out. Aside from her career being dependent on staying on the better side of all the local residents, Nicki just plain liked them as well. “We’d be happy to, Mario. We were about to leave, so I’ll have Catherine give you a call as soon as we see her.”
Gathering up her purse and coat, Nicki led an annoyed Rob out of the restaurant. Once out on the sidewalk, she turned and smiled at him. “It won’t take long, Rob. Her house is close enough to walk there if we wanted to.”
Rob’s frown disappeared and a gleam came into his eyes. “A walk in the moonlight sounds perfect.” He took her hand firmly in his and looked around. “Which way do we go?”
Wishing she’d kept the idea of a walk to herself, Nicki pointed across the square with her free hand. “Just a block or two from here.”
“Fine.” Rob started off, almost pulling Nicki along as he headed for the dimly lit path leading through the center of the square.
“Maybe we should stick to the sidewalks,” Nicki suggested. Suddenly she wasn’t too keen on the idea of too much moonlight.
Rob grinned down at her. “What’s a romantic walk without a little privacy?”
“It’s Arson, Rob, not San Francisco. There’s plenty of privacy on the sidewalks at this time of night,” Nicki pointed out. And there were also streetlights. At least that would cut down on the intimate atmosp
here naturally provided by a warm dark night.
Rob swung their joined hands back and forth. “Ah, come on, babe. What objection can you have to taking a romantic walk with your boyfriend…” His voice trailed off as he stopped and stared up at the statue in the middle of the square. “Right past a giant sculpture of some grapes.”
Nicki couldn’t blame him for laughing. It really was a ridiculous piece of art. But she felt obligated to defend her adopted town. “Since all the businesses in Arson are dependent on the wine industry, the town council thought it would be very appropriate.”
“What?” Rob laughed. “Arson doesn’t have any founding fathers, or war heroes, or even an artist who can create a good art deco piece?”
“The only founding father tried to burn the town to the ground,” Nicki said, rolling her eyes and tugging on his hand when he laughed even harder. “Come on. Let’s get to Catherine’s before we’re arrested for disturbing the peace.”
Much to her relief, Rob started walking again. She didn’t want any of the residents who might be passing along on the mostly deserted sidewalk to hear her boyfriend laughing at their statue. It was a small town, and Nicki had learned just how fast gossip could travel. Her landlady, Maxie, was the master at hearing about everything that went on in town. Nicki wouldn’t be surprised if she got a call about Rob’s behavior the minute she walked into her townhouse.
“Since you grew up in New York City, you have to miss the museums and night life there,” Rob said.
“Sometimes.” Nicki did miss all the lights and activity on occasion. But not as often as she used to. Small-town life and spending her evenings curled up in her pajamas with a good book and a cup of cinnamon coffee had become the perfect way to end her day.
They’d reached the other side of the square, so Nicki steered him toward one of the tiny side streets.
Rob stopped and pulled her around to stand in front of him. “Have you thought about coming back to San Francisco to live? You enjoyed the year you spent there before you moved up here, didn’t you?”
Nicki sucked in a deep breath. “Yes. But I really do love my life here, too. I have good friends and a growing career.” She smiled. “Not to mention that fabulous gourmet kitchen Maxie put into the townhouse. I could never find anything like that in the city. At least not in my budget.
“Maybe not.” Rob frowned. “But between attending all the events you write articles about and penning those novels of yours, how much time do you have to cook? Wouldn’t it be nice to go out and have a gourmet meal cooked for you whenever you want?”
“Oh look,” Nicki exclaimed in a bright voice. “We’re here. And see, the lights are on.” Nicki pulled Rob up the short walkway and onto Catherine’s front porch. After giving the doorbell a good push, she stepped back and waited. When there was no movement from inside the house, she tried ringing the doorbell again.
“Lights are on but it looks like nobody’s home,” Rob quipped. He took a step to the side and tried to peer through a gap in the curtains.
“Stop that,” Nicki whispered. “Catherine will think you’re a peeping Tom.”
She ignored Rob’s offended pout and reached out to try the doorknob. It turned easily in her hand.
She opened the door as Rob stepped back to stand behind her again. He leaned down close to her ear. “I’m not supposed to look in a window but it’s okay for you to walk into a house uninvited?”
Nicki raised a finger to her lips. “Shh.” She pushed the door open and took a half-step inside. “Hello? Is anyone home? Catherine, it’s Nicki Connors.”
She stepped further inside, with Rob following her in. He closed the door behind them.
“Now what?” he asked.
“We’ll just look around to be sure she hasn’t fallen or something,” Nicki said. She wandered into the living room, past a glass case filled with dolls. She paused for a moment to glance at the pictures lined up along Catherine’s mantel. They were mostly shots of her and a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Catherine, except for the bright streaks of color in her hair.
“Holy shit!”
Nicki whirled around. Rob was standing with his back to her, beneath the arched entryway into the dining room. When he didn’t turn around to tell her what he was looking at, Nicki walked over to stand beside him.
Her eyes opened to a full-moon size, and she slapped her hand against her mouth to smother her yelp of shock.
There in the middle of the large formal dining table, with its pristine lace tablecloth, was Catherine Dunton. She was lying with her face down in a plate of pasta, some of which was splattered across the table, leaving stains on the white lace wherever it had landed. A large carving knife was sticking out from her back.
Rob put his arm around Nicki and swayed a little. When she glanced up at him, his complexion had turned to a pasty white. As he leaned more heavily on her, Nicki quickly backed them both out of the archway and into the living room. Her petite, five- foot-two frame would be no match for Rob’s almost six feet, if she counted the inch-high lifts he always wore in his shoes. If he collapsed, she’d go right down with him. Thankfully, she managed to get him to the couch where he sank down in a heap. Leaving him there, she fished her cell phone out of her purse and dialed the number for the Arson police department.
Nicki almost dropped the phone when Chief Turnlow’s voice came on the line.
“Arson PD.”
“Chief? Is that you?”
“Last time I checked it was.” The chief’s dry tone carried across the tiny speaker in the phone. “And this sounds a lot like Nicki Connors.”
Nicki sighed in relief. At least she wasn’t going to have to ask the nighttime answering service to track the chief down. “It is, Chief. I’m at Catherine Dunton’s house.”
“Don’t tell me she’s harassing you to become a client? Do you want to make a citizen’s arrest?”
Nicki bit her lip and darted a look toward the doorway to the dining room. “Um. Not exactly, Chief.”
“Please do not tell me you’ve found another dead body, Nicki Connors.” The chief’s clearly annoyed tone of voice made Nicki wince.
Resigned to having to face a very irritated Chief Turnlow, Nicki sighed. “Well, now that you mention it.”
Chapter Thirty
“Tell me again why you were in this house, Nicki.” The chief crossed his arms over his broad chest and gave her the stare Nicki was certain he’d perfected during his twenty years as a homicide detective on the Los Angeles police force. Topping Rob’s usual six feet by a good two inches, the chief was heavy set, with a smooth-shaven face and a receding hairline. The fact was, he looked every inch a cop as far as Nicki was concerned, and she doubted if he’d ever considered being anything else. And if she hadn’t gotten to know him during his last murder investigation when the two of them had bumped heads, she’d be withering away about now under that intense stare of his.
“Mario asked us to come,” Rob blurted out. He’d recovered from his near-faint and now stood with one arm around Nicki’s shoulders. “He said his hostess hadn’t shown up after her dinner break was over and asked us to come check on her. You can ask Mario yourself, Chief. I’m sure he’ll back me up.”
“I’ll do that,” the chief said. “Mind telling me who you are?”
“I’m sorry.” Nicki quickly apologized. “This is Rob Emerson. He lives in San Francisco. Rob, this is Chief Turnlow.”
“I live in the Marina district,” Rob said holding out his hand. “And I’m Nicki’s boyfriend.”
The chief executed a brief handshake before leaning back and looking Rob over. “Her boyfriend.” He glanced over at Nicki with one eyebrow raised, as heat started to creep along her cheeks. “You don’t say.”
Rob looked between Nicki’s red face and the chief’s raised eyebrow and frowned. “Is there something I don’t know?”
The chief shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m the police chief, not a matchmaker.”
Nick
i glared at the chief while she pulled Rob to one side. “Don’t pay any attention to him. It’s just small-town humor. Even you’ve said how strange it can be. Maybe we should wait out on the porch.”
“Wait for what?” Rob asked.
“What time did you two arrive?”
Nicki turned back around at the chief’s question.
He had a small notebook in his hand with a stub of a pencil poised over it. “I’m assuming you came together?”
“Yes, we did,” Nicki said.
The chief nodded, made a note, and then pointed at Rob. “Let’s start with you, Mr. Emerson.” He glanced at Nicki. “Why don’t you find somewhere else to be while I talk to your boyfriend. And then I’ll get your statement.”
Nicki instantly perked up. She’d love to have a chance to walk around. Just a little. There certainly shouldn’t be any harm in that.
“And I meant somewhere in this room,” the chief said, instantly dashing her hopes to snoop a bit. “On second thought, your idea to wait out on the porch is a good one. Go ahead and do that. You can show my deputy and the coroner how to find the body once they arrive. That would be a useful civilian sort of thing to do.”
Nicki pursed her lips and huffed all the way to the front door. “What’s there to show? Go in the door and turn left,” she muttered to herself. “It’s not as if this is Buckingham Palace and you need a GPS to find your way around.”
“Have something you want to add, Miss Connors?” the chief called after her.
“Of course not, Chief. I’m going to stand on the front porch like any good private citizen would.”
It was less than three minutes before Danny Findley, the lone deputy in the Arson police department, screeched his car to a halt in front of Catherine’s neatly landscaped cottage. He waved at Nicki as he opened the trunk of the cruiser and grabbed a gym bag. Slamming the trunk lid shut, he bounded up the walkway with the ease of the top-notch linebacker he’d been a decade before in high school. His brown eyes lit up as he grinned at Nicki.
