When the pair reached the top of the hill, Nikki looked out over the Malveaux vineyards—awe-inspiring rolling hills of grapevines in all shades of greens and purples, intermixed with dark chocolate soil and almost an earthen red soil in other areas. Ollie sat down next to her, panting, also taking it in. She scratched his head. “What do you say we get some water?”
He wagged his tail and they were off again down the hill this time. As they rounded the back side of the hotel, the Dumpster that Housekeeping used glared at her. The sun beat down on the green metal. Nikki stopped in front of it. The note that Juan wrote to Iwao had never been found. It could be in the Dumpster. How hard could this be? She could just rummage around a bit. Right? Ooh, yuck! Ollie sat down and looked up at her.
“I’ll just see what’s at the top. You stay.” She opened up the lid and luckily found that all the trash bags were tied up the way Housekeeping had been asked to do. It kept down on the flies in the area. She pulled out the bags and that was when things got messy.
There was something so wrong about going through others’ trash—and so disgusting. Ollie sat there looking as grossed out as she was. She riffled through items that made her want to barf, but she kept on going. And into the fifth bag, she hit pay dirt. A crumpled-up, handwritten note on legal paper. She unfolded it. Keep the party for yourself this time. I’m done dealing with you. This had to be the note, didn’t it? Juan was right. The note had not been signed, yet this had to be his just by the tone of it. Who else could have written it? Ruben? Maybe. Anyone else? Nikki didn’t have a clue but knew she needed to get this to Robinson and she desperately needed to wash her hands. At least twice. With antibacterial soap.
She shoved the note into the waistband of her running pants and started off toward the café to get herself and Ollie some water and wash her hands. She’d take a shower as soon as she got home.
They kept a water bowl in the kitchen of the café for Ollie. When she got there, Nikki scrubbed her arms and hands a few times with soap and water and then got herself a bottle of water. Setting the bottle down, she spotted someone sitting alone in the corner of the café. The way the sun shone over the open-air café made it difficult to see the person’s face. Honeysuckle and ivy cascaded throughout the café from overhead and up the side of the walls, casting shadows on the ground and in the corners.
The kitchen faced the café, like a trattoria—very wine country chic. Nikki squinted. Who was that?
Ollie followed her out of the kitchen and she walked over to the person. It was a woman. She looked up as Nikki and Ollie came toward her. It was Sierra Sansi. Her face was tearstained and she looked miserable.
“Sierra? You okay?”
“Sure, I am. I’m perfect, just like the rest of my family.”
Now what was the comeback to that?
Twenty-five
THE only way to handle a loaded statement like the one Sierra had dumped on Nikki was to ask a loaded question. “Why aren’t you perfect?”
Sierra’s sad blue eyes, the same as her father’s, looked at Nikki. “There are too many reasons.”
Nikki was dealing with a victim. Or a psychopath . . .
“Oh, come on, Sierra. I realize I don’t know you all that well, but you seem fine to me. You seem like a great young woman.”
“Ha! My sister doesn’t think so, my mother doesn’t think so, and my brother definitely doesn’t think so.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Do you smell that? Something smells like trash.”
“Hmmm. No. I don’t.” She wasn’t about to tell Sierra about her Dumpster escapade. “What about your dad?” Nikki pulled up a chair opposite Sierra and took a seat. Ollie dutifully plopped down next to her. The Mexican pavered floor probably felt good against his skin.
“My dad thinks everyone is perfect. No one can do any wrong in his eyes.”
Nikki cupped a hand under her chin and leaned her elbow on the table. “Have you ever thought, Sierra, and again, I don’t know you very well, but I do know people tend to be their own harshest critic, so have you ever thought that maybe it’s not about anyone else in your family or outside your family? Maybe it’s you expecting yourself to be perfect. I understand you do martial arts. That type of discipline demands a certain level of perfection, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t do it anymore. You really don’t smell anything rotten like?”
Nikki did her best to will the stench off her body. “Nope. I heard you were really good at martial arts. Why did you quit?”
“Who told you that I was good?”
“Actually, your sister did.”
“Hayden said that?” There was a spark in Sierra’s eyes.
“Yes, she did. She even mentioned that you had done some movie-related stuff, like stunts and choreography for a martial arts movie.”
“That’s true, but not now. It was kind of a passing phase. It wasn’t for me.” Sierra fidgeted with the ends of the white tablecloth.
“Oh, come on.” Nikki coaxed. “There is far more to this than you’re telling me. You said the other night on the wine train, before everything went south, that I seemed like I’d be a good best friend. Tell me your story.”
Sierra looked at her, and a gaze that Nikki recognized crossed Sierra’s face. She knew it because she’d had that same look in her own eyes many times—from that early distrusting age of about four. “Look, I’m only here to listen. I like your dad. I think he’s cool. I think he has some good philosophies and a nice energy about him. I’ve actually learned a few things from him in the last couple of days, including that sometimes the best soul to share your fears and doubts with is the soul of a stranger.” Okay, so Alan had not said that to her, but it kind of sounded like something he would say.
“You buy into that crap?”
Ooops. Maybe Nikki was wrong. “Well, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes. I straddle the fence, you know? When my life is good and on target, I think my dad is a genius. But when it all goes to hell, I think he’s full of it.”
Nikki sat back. “Let me guess . . . These days you think he’s full of it?”
She nodded. “Basically. I do. But he believes it. My mother believes it, so does my sister even though she says she doesn’t know. She’s too pragmatic for such spiritual matters.”
Nikki smiled at her. She was jaded but funny. She could relate to Sierra. “I like people and I think you seem like a nice woman, but if you don’t want to share with me, it’s fine. I need to check in with the meditation your dad is running. Thought I might give it a half hour or so, and then I have to get home and start fixing dinner for tonight. Your dad told you about it, right? You coming?”
She nodded.
“Good. If you ever need a friend, some people think I’m okay.” Nikki knew it was evil. In all sincerity, she meant it, though, and wanted to hear the woman’s woes and felt for her, but c’mon! There was no denying that she wanted to find the truth about Iwao and Mizuki. If in becoming Sierra’s friend she learned something that could help, then whom had she wronged? She had to get this girl talking—especially about her connection to Iwao and his nephew. And that meant it was not beneath her to use reverse psychology.
Nikki stood. “See you tonight. Come on, boy.” Ollie perked up. Well, his ears did anyway.
Sierra grabbed her hand. “No. Sit down, please. I need to talk to someone, and like I said, sometimes I think my dad is brilliant, and since he thinks a stranger’s soul is better than that of someone you know, here goes nothing.”
Nikki hoped she wasn’t going to hell for that little lie. She looked upward for a second. The words “sorry” and “forgive me” flashed through her mind. Surely God would understand that she’d only stretched the truth in the name of justice. Wouldn’t he?
“I was really into martial arts.” Sierra looked at her. “And my dad had a connection, actually through Juan Gonzales here, and was able to get me on as a stunt choreographer for a movie and it was good. I enjoyed it.” Her voice sho
ok when she spoke.
“Sierra?”
“I met someone on the set and I fell in love with him. He was, um, well, he was Iwao Yamimoto’s nephew,” Sierra stammered.
“Really?” Of course, Nikki knew this, but Sierra telling her opened up a whole new group of possibilities to explore.
“Yes.” Sierra closed her eyes, tears forming. “It was one of those things that you hear about or see in a movie—true love at first sight.” She wiped her face. “I started martial arts when I was seventeen. I’d been getting into some trouble and my dad could see that I wasn’t going to go with the flow, like Eli or Hayden. I needed another outlet. I got good at it and I liked it. It also got me away from the party scene. Then three years ago, after one of these workshops, my dad introduced me to Juan Gonzales. He’d recently joined the group.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I was curious about how long a member can be a member before there is any turnover?” This was a question Nikki had forgotten to ask Hayden but had been curious about it.
“There’s kind of an unofficial rule, because my dad doesn’t like rules or really believe in them. He feels that a member should head out on their own when they’re ready, but the unsaid rule is after five years, so I think that either this year or maybe next will be Juan’s fade-out. But some people only come in for one year, or even just one event, and then they’re finished with it. I think some don’t want to pay the annual dues or they feel like they got what they needed, but others stay for a while. Mr. Gonzales is one of those and so is Mr. Pearlman.”
Nikki figured there could be a clue within the length of time that the men had been members. One of those gut feelings. “So, your dad introduced you to Juan because he was involved with movies?”
Sierra nodded. “More than that. Juan had a girlfriend who’d written a screenplay, kind of like a romance version of Kill Bill.”
“Not sure how that would work,” Nikki quipped.
“It didn’t exactly. But my dad told Juan that I was a black belt and that martial arts was my thing, and Juan asked my dad if I would come and do some choreography and stunt work for the movie.”
“I take it that you did?”
“I did and that’s where I met Jen. He was the star of the production, and from the minute I saw him, he took my breath away. Like I said, it was love at first sight.”
Nikki could understand that. It hadn’t necessarily been love at first sight for her, but it had at least been lust. Derek said he’d felt the same way. Too bad it had taken so long for them to get it right. “Did you meet Iwao Yamimoto while doing that movie?”
“Yes. He was one of the financiers on the film and he’d been behind Jen getting involved. I don’t think Jen ever wanted to be any kind of star. In fact, I know he didn’t, but Jen was like a son to Iwao in many ways. Iwao and his wife had never been able to have children and Jen’s parents both died when he was pretty young. Iwao and his wife, who is really Jen’s aunt, raised him. Jen was very close to his aunt. But then when he was a teenager, he said that she started having some emotional problems that escalated until she had to be institutionalized. I know it really affected him because she was like a mother to him. And his uncle was always involved in his life.”
The way Sierra said the word “involved” sounded almost bitter. “Did you think he intruded too much in Jen’s life?”
She sighed heavily. “I think Iwao Yamimoto was not someone who really knew how to love others, including his nephew. Control was how he worked. He saw Jen as a good way to make money. Jen is so good-looking and sweet and funny and I think Iwao always wanted to be the big man. I don’t know how to explain it, but Iwao had these dreams and visions of being, like, a Japanese Donald Trump or something. He was really caught up into the glitz and glamour of the celebrity world and also the world of big business moguls here in America.”
“You didn’t like Iwao, did you?” Nikki reached down and gave Ollie a scratch on the head.
“I won’t lie. No. I didn’t. I thought he used Jen. I thought he used a lot of people and I’m not surprised that he’s dead.”
“What about Mizuki? Did you know her?”
Sierra looked down, her face darkening. “A little bit. I met her once when Jen and I went to Hawaii. His uncle and Mizuki were there. We couldn’t really speak to each other. She was very submissive and didn’t speak English, but she seemed like a nice person. I liked her from what I knew. It made me not like Iwao even more. I know that I shouldn’t say that because he’s dead.”
“What happened with the movie?”
“It went nowhere. Juan Gonzales and Ruben Pearlman, who did the musical score and helped finance the movie, lost a ton of money. And I’m pretty sure that when Iwao put it all together, he inflated everything. Juan brought Ruben in, and the irony is, that’s how Ruben got involved with the S.E.E. members. Then Iwao insisted I help him get in with my dad.”
“I would bet there were some hard feelings between Ruben and Juan toward Iwao.”
She shrugged. “I think so, but my dad is big on forgiveness and preaches it. He knew a little about what had gone on between the three men because I’d told him. My dad is hands-off, though. He doesn’t like to get involved in other people’s problems and he hates gossip. I think part of the reason he let Iwao join is because he wanted the three of them to figure out the lesson behind their journey together.”
“And how about you? You didn’t stay with Jen?”
“No.” She became noticeably emotional again at the mention of this.
“When we were in Hawaii together, I thought Jen was going to propose to me. He wanted to tell his uncle about our plans for the future. We’d talked about marriage. Then I woke up on the last day and Jen was gone. Iwao told me that he’d gone back to Japan and gave me a letter Jen had written for me.”
“What?”
“I know. It didn’t make sense to me then and it still doesn’t. All he wrote was that we weren’t meant to be together and he wanted me to find someone else.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Did he ever contact you again?”
“No. I tried to find out where he was and had no luck. Iwao said that he was back home and had met someone else. He actually told me this when he came here on Thursday. I was shocked to see that he was here. I didn’t think he and Juan and Ruben had ever dealt with their issues. Knowing I would be here after the breakup with Jen . . . it didn’t make sense that he was here. The only thing I can think of is that he is completely motivated by money and that he desperately wanted to get my dad and Eli to publish their books with his company. He had some big plans to turn my dad into a celebrity motivational speaker. He told my dad that he was going to get him on television here and in Japan and together they would be rich.”
“That’s not your dad’s motivation. The money.”
“No. Not at all. Anyway, that’s my saga . . . and I do feel better after talking to someone. It’s hard in my family. Even though we’re supposed to be who we are, it isn’t always possible.”
Nikki reached across the table and covered the woman’s hand with her own. “I think who you are, Sierra, is a good person.” She smiled. “And I’m sorry about the way things happened with you and Jen.” Nikki couldn’t imagine if Derek left her without any explanation. And then to find out he’d wound up with someone else? Unbelievable.
Sierra looked up, past Nikki, her lips quivering. Her face paled.
“Sierra, are you okay?”
“Jen,” she replied.
Nikki turned around to see a handsome Japanese man—sculpted cheekbones, dark hair slicked back, brown eyes trained on Sierra’s face. Jen Yamimoto stood between the arches of the café and the hotel lobby.
Twenty-six
NIKKI stood up and walked over to the man. She introduced herself. Sierra hadn’t moved from the table.
“Hello. I’m Jen Yamimoto. I’ve come because I’ve been informed of my uncle’s death.” He looked past Nikki. “Sierra?”
&nb
sp; She finally stood and came toward them. “Jen.”
“I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t know that my uncle had come for a workshop. The police told me when they called me, but oh, wow, it’s so good to see you.”
Sierra stared at him.
Jen looked at Nikki, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry. Could you excuse us?” Then he looked back at Sierra.
Nikki glanced at Sierra, who was beginning to cry again. She didn’t know if she should leave her alone with a man who’d broken her heart. “Sierra, is that okay?”
“Yes,” she replied in a whisper.
“If you need me, please call my cell phone. It’s on the list that I gave everyone when they checked in,” Nikki told her.
She nodded and Nikki called for Ollie, who jumped up.
Back into a run, she and Ollie headed down to the house. She had a big meal to put together and her time spent with Sierra didn’t leave any room for her to head over to the meditation and yoga for the afternoon. Not to mention the fact that she smelled like garbage.
There were a lot of things Sierra had said that Nikki needed to process, and now with Jen Yamimoto showing up, there was an additional element racing through her mind. Jen might have had a motive to murder his uncle. Had he really just arrived in the Napa Valley?
Twenty-seven
NIKKI didn’t have as much time to prepare as she’d hoped. She hadn’t made a meal for this many people in a long time and she’d lost her knack for it. Ollie was underfoot the entire time she diced, chopped, and sliced, and she nearly tripped over his large frame more than once. She should have gotten takeout. Pizza would have been ideal.
She looked at the clock and could see she had less than an hour left. When she’d come home from her outing, she’d showered, towel-dried her hair, and donned a robe before preparing the meal. Now she needed to pull herself together quickly before the guests arrived, so she put the cornbread in the oven, stirred the chili, and headed into her bedroom. Once there, she sprayed on the perfume that Derek bought her, the one that smelled like cherry blossoms and something sweet, maybe vanilla. Oh, and did it remind her of the night he gave it to her. The night he suggested they live together.
Corked by Cabernet Page 17
