Imitation of Death (17 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Crane

BOOK: Imitation of Death
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Gwen looked like she wanted to say something. She just needed a little nudge. Nikki glanced at the jungle of tattoos on her arm.
Tattoos . . .
She leaned on the counter. “You plan on getting more tattoos? You know . . . finishing up that sleeve?”
“Ah . . . I’d love to finish my sleeve right to the wrist.” Gwen ran her hand down the length of her arm. “But tats are pricey. Good tats.”
“Would you like a gift card for five hundred dollars for that tattoo parlor on
LA Ink?
Free?”
Gwen looked at Nikki. “Are you trying to
bribe
me?”
Nikki felt her face flush. She stood up to her full height. “I . . . it wasn’t so much—”
“I love it!” Gwen declared, slapping the counter with her palm. “I swear to God, you ever dump that boyfriend of yours, you give Gwendolyn a call.” She curled her finger, beckoning Nikki.
Nikki stepped closer, again.
“I tried to give your card to Astro,” she whispered, keeping an eye on the gym floor and its occupants. “But Kaiser snatched it right out of my hand.”
“He
took
it?”
She nodded. “Then he and that weird girlfriend of his and Astro talked over at the incline press. Kaiser seemed hot. Then Astro took his bag and left and he hasn’t been back since.”
“Weird,” Nikki said, thinking out loud.
“
Right
,” Gwen said.
Nikki looked at the orange-head again. “You have a home address for Astro?”
Gwen hesitated.
“Look, I won’t tell Astro how I found him and I sure as heck won’t be saying anything to Kaiser.” Nikki waited. “And I was serious about that gift certificate. Someone gave it to me.” (Barely a lie. And totally harmless.) “It’s just lying in a drawer. Someone might as well use it.”
“You sure
you
won’t use it?”
“Fairly sure,” Nikki said.
Gwen thought for a minute, then turned to the computer on the counter. “Hang on.” She hit a couple of keys, then grabbed a notepad and jotted an address down. She ripped off the top page and slid it across the counter to Nikki. “If anyone asks—”
“I didn’t get it here.” Nikki glanced at the piece of paper, then slipped it in her bag. “Thanks, Gwen. I appreciate this. I’ll drop off the gift certificate tomorrow.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
A young woman in matching shorts and a bra top approached the front desk. “Excuse me,” she whined.
“Have a good day,” Nikki said cheerfully to Gwen, and walked out the door.
In her car, Nikki pulled the photo of Victoria out of her bag—she didn’t want to wrinkle it. As she closed the door and tossed the photo on the passenger seat, she spotted an envelope sticking out from beneath a folder she’d planned to drop off with her client.
The unfamiliar business-size envelope had been between the mail she’d picked up at her house the day before and the comparative analysis for a client she’d dropped on the seat that morning. The envelope had her name written across it . . . in letters that appeared to have been cut from a glossy magazine, à la ransom-note style.
 
 
“What the heck?” she muttered. And ripped open the envelope.
Chapter 17
N
ikki unfolded the piece of ordinary printer paper. Like the outside of the envelope, cuttings from a newspaper or magazine were glued together to make the words.
 
 
Oh my God! Was this a death threat?
Nikki dropped her hands, with the paper, to her lap and looked around. Cars passed on the street. A woman dressed in a navy blue suit hurried down the sidewalk in heels, a gym bag in one hand, a cell phone in the other. No one was paying any attention to her.
Nikki hit the LOCK button on her car door. Then she hit it a second time, just to be sure . . .
Then, she realized she was being silly. The car had been locked when she just got in it. It had
not
, however, been locked at her mother’s overnight. There was no need. The property was gated.
Heart pounding, she opened the letter and read it again.
It still said the same thing.
Hands a little shaky, she folded it carefully and slipped it inside its envelope. She set the envelope on the passenger’s seat and started the engine of the Prius.
But then she just sat there, hands on the wheel.
What should she do now?
She was scared, but probably not as scared as she should have been. The threat made her angry. All she was doing was looking out for Jorge’s best interests.
Who the heck had gone to the trouble of writing that note and leaving it in her car? The
why
was pretty simple—because she was on to someone.
But who
could
have left it there?
Only someone with access to her car, parked in her mother’s driveway, in the last twelve or so hours. The envelope hadn’t been there when she left her car in the driveway the previous night. Only someone with access to the security code to the front gate could have done it.
She ran quickly through the short list of names: her, Victoria, Amondo, and Ina. Then there were those who provided services to Victoria, but, unlike many celebrities, her mother was very selective as to who could gain access without permission. Many people in Beverly Hills had florists, manicurists, even massage therapists coming and going as they pleased. But not Victoria.
Besides those who lived in the house, and Nikki, the only people who could get through the front gate without someone in the house unlocking it were Jorge and his crew . . . and the pool boy who came every other day or so.
Rocko.
Who Eddie had fought with the day of the party.
Nikki took a deep breath, exhaled, and took another.
She’d heard a mower earlier . . . when Melinda was there, but by the time Nikki got out of the shower, he was gone.
Melinda had been there
. Obviously, she didn’t do it. Her son was the one who had been murdered. Besides, she’d walked right up to the front door and rung the doorbell. Ina had said so. But that meant if Melinda could have walked from the Bernards’ to Victoria’s, through the side-yard gate, anyone else in the Bernard household could have walked through it, too. Anyone on the Bernard property could have entered the Bordeaux property by the unlocked gate, left the note on Nikki’s front seat, and gone back through the gate without being seen.
Had Ginny
really
been sleeping in, as Melinda had thought? Could
she
have left the note? Was Lissa at the house? And who else had access to the Bernards’ security code at the front gate? Not Ashley because she had been waiting at the gate when Nikki gave her the Jay-Z tickets. Maybe Abe’s assistant? And Rocko, who also cleaned the Bernards’ pool. And who knew how many other service people?
Nikki decided, at that moment, that she was calling a security service
today
and making arrangements for cameras for Victoria’s property, whether she liked it or not.
Nikki glanced at the envelope on her seat again. Should she call Dombrowski? No. He would tell her to stop talking to people, and to keep her nose out of cop business. She’d keep it to herself... at least for now.
Nikki punched the address Gwen had given her for Astro into her GPS and pulled away from the curb.
 
Nikki expected Astro to live in a condo, or maybe an apartment, a bachelor pad for a good-looking, muscly guy. She did
not
expect the little bungalow she pulled up in front of, south of Pico Boulevard, or the white picket fence. Or the fluffy, white toy poodle that barked at her from a window as she walked up the sidewalk to the front door.
Nikki rang the doorbell. The little dog barked wildly from the other side of the door. She heard it growling as the door swung open and a tiny woman with long, thin, blue-rinsed hair, pulled back in a ponytail, looked at her from behind big Edith Head glasses. She was wearing a calf-length gauze skirt and wooden beads. Nikki couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a costume or not.
“Yes?” the woman inquired. Her voice was squeaky.
Nikki wondered if she had the wrong house . . . or if maybe her buddy Gwen and the monkeys had sent her on a wild goose chase.
“Hi,” she said, looking at the older woman through the screen door. “I’m Nikki Harper. I’m looking for Astro.”
The woman looked up at Nikki; her crazy glasses seemed to magnify her eyes and the wrinkles around them. The poodle continued to bark, bouncing up and down.
“Astro Wharton?” Nikki said. “He works at B. H. Fitness on North Bedford.”
“I know where he works,” the woman said, still taking Nikki in.
“Oh, so you
do
know him?” Nikki smiled warmly.
“I should. He’s my son.” Her reply was not warm.
The poodle jumped up against the door and growled. It appeared to be foaming at the mouth now.
“Does . . . does Astro live here with you?” Nikki asked.
“He does. Do I know you?” She squinted from behind the glasses.
“Um, I’m Nikki Harper—”
“You said that.”
“Maybe you know me because of my mother?” She had to speak louder to be heard above the mad dog. “Victoria Bordeaux?”
The older woman thought for a moment. “Nope. Don’t know her.”
“She’s an actress.
Was
an actress. She’s mostly retired now.
Sister, Sister; Fifteen Green Street
?”
“Nope.”
Nikki smiled again. “Is Astro here?”
“You his girlfriend?”
Nikki noticed for the first time that a station wagon in the driveway had suitcases in the back. “I’m not Astro’s girlfriend.”
“Because you’re better looking than the last one.” She squinted. The dog continued to bark. “Is that really the color of your hair?”
Nikki ran her hand over her head. “Really the color of my hair.”
“I used to be a redhead.”
“Did you?” Nikki glanced at the car again. There was a cooler on the back seat.
Road trip
. “Are . . . are you taking a trip?”
“Why do you want to know, Miss Nosy Nikki Harper Parker?”
“Um . . .”
“To see my sister,” the woman said. “She lives in Scottsdale. That’s in Arizona. She has a pool.”
Nikki glanced at the poodle, still jumping up against the screen door, still barking, still growling. She wondered how long the dog could keep it up before collapsing in exhaustion.
“Is . . . Astro going with you? To see your sister?”
“Is this it, Ma?” The male voice came from inside.
Astro appeared in the doorway behind his mother, carrying two more suitcases. He halted, obviously startled to see Nikki. And maybe a little bit afraid . . .
The dog was still barking. “Ms. Harper.”
“I stopped by the gym. I heard you were out sick.”
He stared at her for a second, then looked at the dog. “Peaches! Enough!”
Peaches
fell silent at once and trotted out of sight.
“Sorry about that,” Astro said. He seemed nervous. He was wearing a plaid short-sleeved shirt, shorts, and a ball cap. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. She might not have recognized him on the street.
“Is this your girlfriend?” his mother asked.
Nikki made eye contact with him. “I told her I wasn’t your girlfriend, but I’m not sure she believed me,” she said with amusement.
He seemed to relax a little. “Go finish packing, Ma. I’ll load these in the car.” Astro opened the front door and Nikki backed down the steps.
She followed him to the car. “Are you okay?”
“You were looking for me at the gym?” He opened the hatch of the station wagon and slid the suitcases in with the others.
“You going somewhere?” she asked. It seemed like a lot of luggage.
“To see my aunt.”
“In Scottsdale. Your mother told me.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay, Astro?”
He cut his eyes at her and again she saw the nervousness in them. “What would make you ask?”
Nikki glanced at the door. His mother was standing there, watching them. She returned her attention to Astro, now genuinely concerned. “Are you leaving town?”
“I told you, I was—”
“I mean, are you
leaving town,
” she said, lowering her voice. “Like in a hurry . . . like getting away from someone? Something?” She was concerned, but also suspicious.
“Did someone at the gym say that?”
“No. I’m just . . .
curious
.”
“Don’t be. Why were you looking for me?”
“I wanted to give you this.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the glossy photo of Victoria.
“Wow,” he said, accepting it. “Autographed and everything.”
“Autographed and everything,” she repeated. “I got worried when I found out you’d called out sick, two days in a row. And Monday, I looked for you when I came out of the locker room. To give you my card, but you were gone.”
He glanced at the door. “Ma!”
Nikki looked up to see Astro’s mother still standing at the door watching them, trying, no doubt, to listen in on the conversation.
“All right, already,” she grumbled.
He waited until she disappeared from sight. “I can’t talk to you.”
“According to who? That Kaiser guy?”
He exhaled, letting the hand holding the photo fall to his side. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
He was the second person to say that to her today. “Neither do I.”
He held on to the photo of Victoria, as if it were a true treasure. It had been taken years ago, back in her golden days of cinema. It was one of Nikki’s favorites.
“You should stay away from Kaiser,” he said.
“I went to the gym looking for you, not Kaiser.”
“He’s dangerous.”
Nikki hesitated. “Do you think he had something to do with Eddie Bernard’s murder?”
“I don’t know.” He was holding so tightly to the photo that Nikki was afraid he was going to crease it. Not that she cared, but she thought he would.
Nikki laid her hand on Astro’s arm. “Do you know if Eddie owed Kaiser money? For drugs?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Eddie and I, we didn’t talk about that kind of stuff. We just worked out.”
“So if you don’t know anything, why do you think Kaiser doesn’t want you to speak to me?”
He didn’t answer.
Nikki tried to think . . . fast, because she had a feeling she might not get another chance to speak to Astro. There were
a lot
of suitcases in that car. “You said Kaiser was at the party that night. Did you see any trouble between Eddie and Kaiser . . . or even see them talking?”
“They talked, for sure. I was coming out of the bathroom in the pool house. They were talking. Kaiser seemed pretty angry, but Eddie just walked away.”

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