The Bad Always Die Twice (26 page)

Nikki’s thoughts were going a mile a minute. A business meeting? He met someone on Saturday night? Was it his killer?

“What business meeting? With who?”

Tiffany shook her head. “
Hey
didn’t say. But he
lyde
. Rex
lyde
to me again.
Ah
looked in his bag when
hey
was in the shower.
Hey
had a first class
playne
ticket, all right. But only one.
Hey
wasn’t takin’ me.
Hey
jest called me up and fed me that
lahne
so
Ah’d
go to the hotel in the stupid hat and have sex with
hym
.”

Nikki covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing. It wasn’t funny. It was sad. How could this poor girl be so naïve? And so hurt by the truth? She felt so bad for Tiffany that she wanted to give her a hug.

“Listen, Tiffany. I know you have to get in to work, but I just have a few more questions. Where was he going? What did the plane ticket say?”

“It
sayd hey
was goin’ to Pa-pete.” She scrunched up her face. “
Ah
don’ know where that is.”

Pa-pete? Pa-pete? Where the heck was Pa-pete
?

“You’re sure it said Pa-pete?” Nikki asked Tiffany.

“That’s what it
sayd
.”

Pa-pete
. Nikki tried to think. Then it suddenly occurred to her what the ticket must have said. “Was he going to
Papeete?
In Tahiti? It’s spelled P-A-P-E-E-T-E.”

“That was it,” she said.

“Okay, so what happened after Rex got out of the shower, after you found out that he’d lied about taking you with him?”

“
Ah
don’ know.”

“You don’t know?”

Tiffany slung her canvas bag on her shoulder and looked longingly at the employees’ entrance. “Because
Ah
left. Last
Ah
saw Rex,
hey
was in the shower. He was singin’.” She smiled sadly. “It was the theme song
tuh
his TV show.”

“And then what did you do?” Nikki prompted.

“
Ah
did what any girl would do.
Ah
went home and cried. Then
Ah
ate a half a gallon of Rocky Road ice cream.”

“But that wasn’t the end of it?” Nikki pressed. “Was it? What happened Saturday night?”

“
Ah
went
tuh
Mrs. March’s house.
Ah
was so mad,
Ah
was gonna tell her what a
li’r
Rex was.
Hey lyde tuh
me and
hey lyde tuh
her. About
bein’ deid
.”

“But Mrs. March was having a party and the parking attendant wouldn’t let you in.”

Tiffany’s eyes grew wide. “How
deid
you know that?”

“Tiffany, let me tell you something I learned the hard way many years ago. Nothing happens in this town, ever, that everyone doesn’t eventually find out about.” She squeezed the young woman’s shoulder. “Why don’t you give me your cell number and then go on into work? I’ll call you if I have any more questions.” She entered Tiffany’s name in her BlackBerry.

“Well, okay,” Tiffany said hesitantly. “But
Ah
don’t have too many minutes left on my plan this month. So if ya don’t mind, we could just meet or somethin’ if we need
tuh
talk more than a minute or two?”

Nikki knew she couldn’t discount anything, but Tiffany certainly didn’t sound like a killer. Nikki put Tiffany’s number into her phone and said good-bye. Walking to her car, she hit her speed dial. There was no answer. Victoria’s cell phone was still MIA, apparently. She called the house and got Ina. Amondo picked up next and Nikki finally got Victoria.

“Can you meet me for lunch?” she asked, not giving her mother a chance to speak. “We need to talk about the case.”

“Can’t do lunch, Nicolette. The girls are coming for lunch.”

The girls
Victoria referred to were a group of older women who had been friends forever. All had been in the business in one form or another; Hollywood had been built around them.

“That’s okay. I really should do some work. You want me to come over or would you like to go out for dinner? We haven’t been out in a while.”

“Let’s go out.”

“Where? You name it.”

“I’ll have Amondo make us a reservation for Osteria Mozza,” Victoria said, obviously delighted.

Nikki grimaced and got into her car. “Mother, we won’t be able to get in there tonight.”

“Nonsense. I know the hostess. Nice girl. I’ll call her myself if I have to. Seven-thirty? Maybe that nice Mr. Batali will even be there.”

Nikki knew better than to argue any further. “See you there,” she said with a grin.

At precisely seven-thirty, Nikki and Victoria were seated at Osteria Mozza on Melrose and Highland. There were certainly more expensive places to dine in L.A., but since it had opened a few years ago, it had been Victoria’s favorite place to dine. She and
the girls
came here all the time.

“It’s so nice to have you with us, Ms. Bordeaux,” the hostess said, handing Victoria a menu.

“Lorena, this is my daughter, Nikki Harper.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Lorena has a little girl,” Victoria told Nikki from across the table. “Tabitha. Isn’t that a sweet name?”

“Sweet.” Nikki opened the menu, eager to make her selection. Every time she came, she chose something different. Her plan was to eat her way through the entire menu.

“Raúl will be your waiter,” Lorena was saying. “But let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Ms. Bordeaux.”

“Thank you, dear.” Victoria smiled
the smile
, flashing those Bordeaux blues.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Nikki said, reaching for her water glass as the hostess walked away.

Victoria was removing her reading glasses from a silk pouch. “What’s that, Nicolette?”

“Remember people’s names.” She was glancing at the antipasti list. Should she get the Ribollita “Da Delfina,” or the grilled Santa Barbara prawns? “I’m so bad at that. And you, you remember the hostess’s daughter’s name?”

“It’s only polite, dear, to know the names of the people who provide you with services.”

Nikki’s gaze strayed to the list of items available on the mozzarella bar. She’d need to go to the gym by the time she finished this meal. “Okay, so I need you to help me think through everything I’ve learned in the last day.” She glanced up. Her mother looked gorgeous as usual with just the right amount of makeup and perky lip stain. “Are you going to have a cocktail?”

Victoria lifted one perfect eyebrow.

Nikki smiled. “Cocktails it is. So here’s what I know so far.”

By the time they had placed their order for appetizers and entrées, Nikki had gone over everything Julius, Marquette, and Tiffany had told her and their cocktails had arrived. Nikki ordered a Sicilian Etna Rosso, and Victoria a margarita with specific instructions on how she liked it made. Victoria was a good listener and didn’t interrupt, for once, while Nikki talked.

“So, let’s see our timeline,” Victoria reviewed. “Rex checked into the Sunset Tower on Friday, probably flew in that day. He calls his bimbo—”

“Mother, she’s not a bimbo. She’s really a nice girl. I just think she’s struggling to keep from being eaten alive by the big bad world.”

Victoria sipped her margarita. “So the
nice girl
goes to see him Friday night, they dine and . . . do what
nice girls
do with men who buy them steaks in hotel rooms, and then she finds out he isn’t really taking her to Tahiti.” She relaxed in her chair. “But the
nice girl
actually saw the plane ticket. Rex really was going to Tahiti?”

“That’s what she said. But obviously
she
wasn’t.”

“So, Saturday night the
nice girl
goes to Edith’s to tattle on Rex. The whole woman scorned thing . . . but she’s turned away at the door.”

“Right. Meanwhile, Rex went to this
business
meeting.”

“We can’t assume anything. Maybe he lied to her. Maybe she lied to you. That aside, business meetings don’t usually take place in the evening, unless someone’s doing something shady.”

“Or doesn’t want to be seen,” Nikki pointed out. “Obviously Rex didn’t want to be discovered: checking in under the false name, eating in his room.” The wine was excellent, earthy with a hint of dark cherries, reminding her of a burgundy.

Victoria slid forward in her chair and leaned over the table.
“Ramirez,”
she whispered.

“Ramirez?”

“
That’s
who he was meeting. His agent. If Rex ran away before he faded away, the only reason he would come back and risk discovery would be because of money.”

Nikki smiled mischievously. All day she’d tried not to think about Rex and what had happened, hoping that if she let it sit on a back burner, it would all make sense. What she should have done was just told Victoria and let her make sense of it all.

“Edith said that she thought Ramirez was stealing from her. What if he was in on Rex faking his death and was supposed to be sending Rex money—”

“But Ramirez was stealing from Rex, too? That’s exactly what happened in
Kiss Me Once,
remember?” Victoria said. She had starred in
Kiss Me Once
. “There were two brothers bickering over their father’s fortune and, meantime, the sister, Emiline, was stealing from them both.”

As Nikki recalled, things had not gone well for Emiline. In the end, she lost everything: her brothers’ love, her husband, her fortune. It had been one of Victoria’s finest death scenes. “Wait.” Nikki took another sip of wine. “So you think that Rex and Ramirez had some sort of deal where Ramirez would funnel money off what was due Edith for Rex’s residuals and send it to Rex in Tahiti?”

“But Ramirez was taking a cut for himself. A big enough cut to bring Rex back to L.A.” Victoria met Nikki’s gaze, her Bordeaux blues intense. “If Rex intended to live his life out in Tahiti, he would need that money to live.” She smiled. “And Ramirez was not at Edith’s party that night.”

Nikki’s mouth fell. “Oh, my gosh, you’re right. But . . . he said he went to his niece’s engagement party.
Here.
”

“Why do you think we’re here?” Victoria smiled.

Nikki smiled back. “So, you’re saying that maybe Ramirez met with Rex and then killed him . . . and then put him in Jess’s apartment?” It sounded far-fetched to Nikki.

“Or maybe it was the
nice girl
who killed him before he ever made it to the meeting with Ramirez. Maybe she didn’t leave Rex
singing in the shower
.” Again the eyebrow.

“But how would Tiffany get Rex’s body out of the hotel? Rex was huge and Tiffany is tiny.”

“You’re so naïve, Nicolette.
Nice girls
have friends. Big, brawny male friends.”

The waiter approached and Nikki was quiet while her prawns were served. She thought about the big guy who was a dishwasher at Barney’s.

Nikki just didn’t want to believe that Tiffany could have killed Rex. Maybe she
could
have, but Nikki was pretty sure she hadn’t. Her emotions had been too genuine that morning.

“Raúl,” Victoria said as the waiter started to walk away. “Could you get Lorena for me?”

A moment later, the hostess was tableside.

“I’ve a delicate question for you, dear.” Victoria waved Lorena closer. “Saturday, the second, did you have a private party? An engagement party?”

Lorena looked at her, obviously unsure where the conversation was going. “We did.”

“Alex Ramirez. The agent. Do you know him? I know you do,” she went on, not giving the hostess a chance to respond. “I’ve seen him here with clients. I’ve spoken to him.”

Nikki wasn’t certain if that was true, but from the look on Lorena’s face, the young woman believed her.

“Was Alex Ramirez here that night?” Victoria asked. “Did he attend the private engagement party?”

“Mr. Ramirez’s brother made the arrangements,” Lorena said uneasily.

“Of course he did. It was his daughter’s engagement. But did Mr.
Alex
Ramirez attend the engagement party?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t believe he did,” Lorena whispered.

Nikki could tell by the look on the hostess’s face that she knew she shouldn’t be giving out information about clientele, but she seemed more afraid of Victoria than of Ramirez. Wisely so.

“I didn’t think so,” Victoria said, looking like a queen holding court in the busy restaurant. “That was all I needed, dear.” She patted Lorena’s hand, which rested on the table.

Lorena hurried away before she was seduced by the Bordeaux blues to reveal more state secrets.

“Oh, my gosh,” Nikki whispered, licking her fingers. The prawns were amazing. “If Ramirez wasn’t here, maybe he
was
meeting Rex.”

“More than likely,” Victoria agreed.

“So, what do I do?” Nikki whispered, thinking surely Jessica was safe from prosecution now. “Do I go to the police?”

“Whatever for? For all you know, Ramirez is completely innocent of everything but being a conceited jackanape. Maybe
he
was at the Sunset Tower with some
nice girl
.”

“Mother!”

“It happens,” Victoria pointed out diplomatically. “And men like Ramirez are just the kind of men who cheat on their wives in wheelchairs. And then there’s the matter of Mrs. Atlas calling for Mr. Atlas at the hotel Friday night. An older woman? It
had
to be Edith, which means Edith
knew
he was alive Saturday night. The man who crashed the gate earlier in the day was most likely Rex. Did Edith make plans for a business meeting with Rex for after the party, and kill him? Did she send her beau off to the meeting to kill him while she entertained her guests? We don’t know that that young man with the silly name
got a phone call
calling him away. All we know is that Edith told us he got a call.”