The Dead and the Beautiful

by Cheryl Crane

  “If the fish-tank guy and the dog walker had access, who knows who else could have walked in the back or the front doors?” She looked at him, thinking out loud. “What kind of security is on the gates, front and rear? The front gate was wide open when I got there, but that might have been because of all the emergency vehicles.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then lifted the coffee cup, holding it short of touching his lips. “I came here to let you know what was going on, not to pick your brain on the evidence. Obviously, this is a police matter.” He took a sip.

  “Obviously.”

  “Which means I don’t want real-estate agents—”

  “Broker,” she interrupted.

  “Brokers interfering with my investigation.”

  “The way brokers have interfered in investigations before?” she said, referring to the murder of her mother’s next-door neighbor the previous fall. Nikki was the one who had figured out who actually killed him, and even called Dombrowski to hand the murderer to him on a silver platter.

  “Stay out of this, Nikki. Please,” he beseeched with one hand. “I’m saying please.”

  She scrutinized him. “So why did you come here to tell me about Alison’s arrest?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Because I thought you’d want to know. Your boyfriend will want—with Ms. Sahira having a teenage daughter and all. Someone might want to pick her up from school before it hits the news. Or maybe I came because it was an excuse to see you.”

  Nikki shot out of her chair, his last comment barely sinking in. “I have to go.” She pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk and grabbed her ancient, beloved Prada shoulder bag. It was supple tan leather, shaped more like a feed sack than a handbag, with a long strap and only a few pen marks and water stains. “I don’t want Jeremy to hear from someone else that his sister’s been arrested.” She came around her desk. “Has she already been picked up?”

  He checked his watch. “Should have been. I told them to wait until the daughter had left for school, but get there before Ms. Sahira left Dr. Fitzpatrick’s house for the morning.”

  Nikki crossed her office.

  Dombrowski opened the door for her.

  She halted in the doorway and looked up at him. “Thanks, Tom. I appreciate this.”

  He nodded and she was out the door.

  Jeremy had a high-end office in a high-end building not far from Windsor Real Estate, on Wilshire in Beverly Hills. He practiced general dentistry, but his star past made him popular with celebrities. They appreciated the confidentiality he and his staff offered and the spa-like atmosphere of the office itself. That had been his wife Marissa’s idea.

  Nikki entered his waiting room. It was plush and decadent, decorated in gold and red as if Jeremy’s patients were royalty. Which in a way, many were. She walked past Brad Pitt and one of his kids. At the front desk, Jolene, a cute blonde, smiled. She was wearing khaki pants and a tight, low-cut, green T-shirt. The two additional receptionists behind the counter were wearing identical T-shirts. Monday, they would be wearing the same T-shirts in teal. But Fridays, Fridays were green tee day. Jeremy liked order. He didn’t mind that his staff wore different colors on different days, as long as they wore the same color, the same day every week.

  “Ms. Harper, nice to see you.”

  “You, too, Jolene,” Nikki said, subdued. “Is Dr. Fitzpatrick busy? I mean, I know he’s busy, but I need to speak with him.”

  “He’s just finishing up with a patient.”

  “I’ll wait in his office. Can you tell him I’m there?”

  “Sure thing,” Jolene sang.

  Nikki went through a closed door, into the back, and walked into Jeremy’s office. It was expensively furnished, but in good taste: oxblood leather and cherry wood with one wall covered in paneled, cherry wainscoting. She dropped into one of the two leather armchairs in front of his massive desk. His desk was clean, of course. Neat. A computer monitor and keyboard. His cell phone. Framed, candid photos of the kids and a leather cup of pens. She noticed that the picture of Marissa on his desk was gone. He must have removed it recently because the last time Nikki was here, maybe a month ago, the framed photo had been there, behind the children’s. Another sign Jeremy was moving on, recovering from his wife’s death from cancer. As much as anyone could recover from such a thing.

  Nikki didn’t dare contemplate what that would mean for her and Jeremy. They’d been in sort of a holding pattern for a while. He had definitely moved to boyfriend status, but they’d never talked about what that meant. What it could mean in the future. Which was just as well, because Nikki didn’t know what she wanted or how she felt about Jeremy. She knew she loved him, but they had been through so much, together and apart, that she didn’t know where their relationship could lead. Her mother’s seven marriages had turned her off to the whole institution, but she’d learned a long time ago to never say never. Something else her mother had taught her.

  “Hey, everything okay?” Jeremy walked into his office, looking very handsome and very professional in his shirt and tie and white lab coat. He took one look at her face and closed the door. “Everything’s not okay.”

  She shook her head. “Jeremy—”

  “Alison did it, didn’t she?”

  “No, no, of course not.” She was momentarily taken aback, not only by his accusation, but by the way he made it. As if he’d thought all along that his sister had killed someone. She rose from the chair. “But she’s been arrested.”

  There was a glisten in his eyes and he looked away. His hands hung at his sides. “I’ll have to get money together to post her bail.”

  She rested her hand on his chest. This was the Jeremy she knew, not the accusing one. He was the kind of man who would bail his sister out because it was the right thing to do, not because he thought she was innocent. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “I’ll have to call my attorney. He can find out what her bail will be set at.” He was talking to himself, not really her. “Move money around.” He swore under his breath, something he rarely did.

  “Jeremy, this is a mistake. She didn’t do this.”

  He turned his gaze on her, his facial expression hard, something she wasn’t used to seeing. Jeremy was usually so easygoing, so slow to pass judgment. “No? How do you know?”

  “Because this is Alison. Your little sister. She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “No? Ask her to tell you about the armed robbery she was involved in.”

  Nikki’s mouth dropped open. For a second, she thought she might have to close it manually. “Armed robbery?” she whispered. “When? Not recently?”

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, as if speaking of it literally tasted bad. “No, it was before she met Farid.”

  “Alison was involved in an armed robbery?” Nikki repeated. “You mean she was accused of being involved.”

  “She was involved. A man was seriously wounded. Alison didn’t pull the trigger, but she knew it might get pulled.”

  Nikki was flabbergasted. “But . . . but she never went to jail.”

  “Not for more than a couple of nights, because I bailed her out. She lied to me. Promised me she had nothing to do with robbing this convenience store in East L.A.”

  “But . . . but if she was guilty, she would have served time in prison.”

  “Doesn’t always happen that way, Nik. There was an error on how the evidence was filed or something. She got away with it. They all did. She and her friends.”

  Nikki didn’t know what to say.

  She didn’t think Jeremy did either. He walked around his desk and sat in his high-backed, leather-upholstered chair. “I need to make some phone calls.”

  “For a murder charge, a judge will have to set bail,” Nikki said quietly. “That could take a few days.”

  He nodded. “Right. I still want to call my attorney now. And catch one of my stockbrokers before he heads off for a long weekend in Catalina. Could you tell Jolene to
reschedule the rest of my day?”

  “Sure, of course.” She picked up her bag, hovering.

  He lifted the telephone from its cradle and looked at her across the desk. “Jocelyn,” he groaned. “I need to get to Beverly Hills High School and get her out of there before someone starts tweeting that her mother’s been arrested for Ryan Melton’s death.”

  “That’s what Detective Dombrowski thought. He’s the one who told me that Alison was being arrested. I can’t sign Jocelyn out, though. I don’t have her mother’s prior permission.”

  “I can.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “I’ll take care of it. Can you be at the house when the kids get home from school?”

  “Sure, of course.” Nikki was relieved to have something to do. “I’ll see you later,” she said as she went out the door.

  He didn’t answer.

  At four-thirty in the afternoon, Nikki was in the kitchen making Jeremy’s youngest a snack when Alison rushed into the kitchen.

  “Is she here? Is Jocelyn home?”

  Nikki was surprised, bordering on shocked, to see Alison. She couldn’t imagine how she could have posted bail so quickly. Jeremy must have pulled some strings somehow. She glanced down at little Katie. “Would you like to take your snack in the living room and bug your big sister?”

  Katie bobbed her head and grinned.

  Nikki gave her a plastic Hello Kitty plate with cut-up carrots, apple slices, and peanut butter on it. “Go for it.”

  Katie galloped out of the kitchen.

  Nikki turned to Alison. “Jocelyn’s not with you?”

  “With me?” Alison’s usually pale face was even paler. She had no makeup on and looked as if she’d had a rough day. Maybe been arrested and spent time in a holding cell. She wrung her hands. “Nikki, I was arrested this morning for Ryan Melton’s murder. How could Jocelyn be with me?” She was beginning to sound panicky. “She was in school. Did she not go to school?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine.” Nikki wiped her hands on a dish towel and approached Alison. “She went to school as far as I know. Jeremy was going to pick her up early . . . in case someone heard about your arrest before we . . . before Jeremy had a chance to tell her himself. But weren’t you with Jeremy? Didn’t he bail you out?”

  “He was going to post my bail?” Tears filled her eyes and she looked at the floor. “I can’t believe he’d do it again. After . . . the last time. After what I did.”

  Nikki exhaled. She didn’t know when the right time to talk about that with Alison was, but she was sure it wasn’t right now. “I’m confused. How did you get here? Did Jeremy post your bail and then not pick you up?” That didn’t sound like him, but she was beginning to realize that Jeremy wasn’t the same person with his sister as he was with everyone else on the planet.

  “Jeremy didn’t post my bail,” she said in a small voice.

  Nikki waited for an explanation. When Alison didn’t go on, Nikki pressed, “Okay, so who did? Your ex-husband?”

  Alison laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. “Farid? Are you kidding? He’d let me die of thirst before he offered me water from the hose in the backyard.”

  Again, Nikki waited. Again, Alison wasn’t forthcoming with information. “Then who posted your bail?” Nikki asked pointedly. To Nikki’s knowledge, Alison had no friends; it was the way Farid had liked it.

  Just then the door to the garage opened into the kitchen. Jocelyn walked in, backpack flung over her shoulder. When she saw her mom, she ran to hug her. “I thought you were in jail,” the teen cried, her arms tight around Alison. “I’m so glad you’re not in jail.”

  Jocelyn was gorgeous in all the ways her mother wasn’t. Even at fourteen, it was obvious she was going to be a beauty. She had her father’s dark complexion and dark eyes, and an athletic build. She carried a certain air of confidence you didn’t usually see in teenagers, which amazed Nikki, considering the fact that Alison was the polar opposite in that area.

  Jeremy walked in behind his niece and frowned when he saw his sister. “I went to post your bail and they said you’d already been released. Who the hell posted your bail, A?”

  Alison still had her arms around her daughter. She looked over Jocelyn’s shoulder sheepishly. “I can’t tell you.”

  Chapter 6

  “What do you mean you can’t tell me?” Jeremy bellowed.

  Nikki turned to look at him, wondering who the heck this guy in Jeremy’s kitchen was. It certainly wasn’t Jeremy. Had aliens taken over his body?

  Aliens? Where did that come from? She’d been reading too many Dean Koontz novels.

  “Jeremy,” Nikki said calmly. She took a step toward him and placed both hands on his chest. “Let her catch her breath. Let Jocelyn get something to eat and then maybe you and Alison can—”

  Jeremy brushed by her, jerking at his Gucci watercolor tie. “I’m going to change.” He walked past his sister without saying a word to her. “Is Maria here?”

  “She’s putting laundry away.” Nikki waited until she heard his footsteps in the hall before turning to Alison. “You need to tell him what’s going on.”

  Jocelyn had let go of her mother’s shoulders but was still holding her hand. “You need to tell me what’s going on, Mom,” the teen said. “Uncle Jeremy wouldn’t tell me anything in the car. He had me called to the office in the middle of a biology quiz and said he was signing me out for the day. Then we went to his lawyer’s office, but he made me sit in the lobby. Like, for hours. Mom, were you really arrested?”

  Alison just stood there in the middle of the kitchen, looking scared and lost.

  “Mom,” Jocelyn urged, “you should sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

  Nikki followed the teen’s lead and took Alison’s other arm. They led her toward one of the kitchen stools.

  Jocelyn was not only beautiful, but she was wise beyond her years. Nikki had a feeling she’d seen more of real life than most Beverly Hills kids had.

  “Sit,” Nikki instructed. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  Jocelyn backed her mother up to the stool. “What were you arrested for? Please tell me you haven’t been calling Dad and hanging up again.”

  Alison just shook her head.

  Nikki came back around the island, carrying the glass of water. “Jocelyn’s going to find out, Alison,” she said as gently as she could. “It’s going to be all over the news. It’s probably already been tweeted across the country.”

  “It’s not true, Jocelyn,” Alison whimpered, tearing up. “What they’re saying. I didn’t do it.”

  “Now you’re scaring me, Mom.” Jocelyn sat on a stool next to Alison’s and rubbed her mother’s arm. She was wearing jeans and a cute, flowered, fuchsia T-shirt. “What do the police think you did?”

  Alison sat on her stool, frozen.

  “Drink,” Nikki insisted, pushing the glass into her hand.

  Alison drank as Nikki and Jocelyn watched. “They . . . they think I . . . I . . . I can’t even say it.” She looked up at Nikki. “I’m going to lose custody. I’m going to lose my baby.” She set the glass on the counter, spilling some of the water with her wobbly hand. She lowered her head to her arms on the granite countertop.

  “What’s she talking about?” Jocelyn pleaded. “Tell me the truth, Nikki. She never wants to tell me the truth. She thinks I’m still five years old.”

  Nikki glanced at Alison, who still rested her head on the counter. She didn’t like the idea of getting in the middle of a mother/daughter thing, but how could they not tell Jocelyn? Ryan’s murder had made the headlines of every newspaper and had been the opening piece on all the news magazine shows on TV. An arrest would land the case on the front pages again. The kids in school would be talking about it. They’d all be talking about Jocelyn.

  Nikki took a deep breath. “She was arrested for Ryan Melton’s murder.”

  “Ryan Melton!” Jocelyn stared at Nikki. Blinked. “The star?”

  “Actua
lly, he’s not a star,” Nikki clarified. “His wife is Diara Elliot. She’s the star.”

  “But Mom doesn’t even know Ryan Melton.” She looked at her mother. “Mom, you don’t know Ryan Melton, do you?”

  “He was a client,” Nikki explained when Alison didn’t say anything.

  “My mom knew Ryan Melton? She walked his dog? For real and true?” It was the first time Jocelyn sounded like a teenager since she’d come in the door. She looked at her mother. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?” When Alison just sniffled, Jocelyn looked to Nikki.

  “Client confidentiality,” Nikki explained.

  “For a dog?”

  Nikki shrugged. “People are funny in Hollywood.”

  “Right,” Jocelyn exhaled. She glanced at her mother, then back at Nikki. “Why do they think she did it? My mom would never hurt anyone. When my goldfish died, she couldn’t flush it. I had to do it. And I was, like, six.”

  “I don’t know the details,” Nikki said. Which was true. Mostly. “But I’m going to find out.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.

  Nikki heard Jeremy’s footfalls on the stairs. She reached out and gave Jocelyn a half hug. They had never been on hugging terms either, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

  Jocelyn didn’t pull away.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Nikki assured the girl.

  Jocelyn nodded bravely.

  Nikki gave the teen some space. “Why don’t you go see what the girls are doing? Maybe start homework? Give your mom and Uncle Jeremy a few minutes to talk?”

  “He’s really mad,” Jocelyn murmured. “I’ve never seen Uncle Jeremy mad like this. He’s always so nice.” She walked over to her mother and laid her hand on her shoulder. “You going to be okay if I go hang out with the kids for a while? I’ve got a big geometry test on Monday to study for.”

  “I’ll be okay.” Alison’s voice was muffled by her arms.