He was slow to answer, as if he was searching for the right words. “We did. We met through the group and had some things in common. And you know we did some business together.”
“Yeah? What kind of business?”
“We did some film work together. Why all the questions?”
“I don’t know. I find it curious that everyone here seems to have forgotten that this man was murdered last night and some of you knew him rather well.”
He laughed but Nikki didn’t think there was anything slightly humorous about their conversation. “You have a curious nature, don’t you?”
“I suppose that I do, but more than that, I find the situation disturbing, especially considering that you knew Iwao and did business with him.”
“What am I supposed to do? Sulk? Is that what we’re all supposed to do, Ms. Sands?” His tone turned nasty and Nikki didn’t care for it at all.
“A little mourning couldn’t hurt,” she said pointedly.
“You didn’t know Iwao Yamimoto, did you?”
“No. I only just met the man.”
He picked up another glass of wine on the table next to them. “Right. Let me tell you something. Iwao was not always the most ethical of human beings. In fact, he’d screw anyone over if given the chance.”
“Sounds like you two had some difficulties. Is that why you wrote him a note when he arrived here?” Juan frowned at Nikki’s question. “I remember Iwao mentioning it to you on the train and I got the feeling it wasn’t a pleasantry or a welcome card.”
“I feel I’m being attacked here. I never wrote Iwao a note, a card, nothing. I was confused when he said that to me.”
Nikki studied him. Was he telling her the truth? She remembered the night before when Iwao made the sarcastic remark to him about the note; Nikki had sensed something was off between the two of them. Neither one wanted to be around the other. “I’m not attacking you. I apologize if you feel that way. I suppose it’s what you said-I’m curious is all.”
He nodded. “Right. I didn’t write nothing, like I said. He had to have misread the signature. You know, everyone who did business with Iwao had difficulties, even his nephew. There are at least a few people in this room who would agree to that. Not me. I hate to be rude, but since the police have interrogated me, I don’t feel like having this conversation again in a social situation. I’m here to have fun.” Juan Gonzales walked away from Nikki, leaving her dumbstruck.
Most people didn’t walk away from her, not even when she was digging for information. She had to find out what his problems were with Iwao and why he clearly didn’t like the man. Not only that, she had to find the note that had been left for Iwao, and see if it had been Juan who’d written it-or someone else, as he’d insisted. How was she going to do that? Could it still be in Iwao’s room?
A note. What did you do with a note someone wrote to you? Especially if it was someone you didn’t care much for? Throw it away. That seemed the logical explanation. Unless it was a threat-maybe you kept those? The police had gone through Iwao’s room this morning, but what if Housekeeping had gone through it before that? She had to ask Mizuki if Housekeeping had been in their room, before she’d been moved out of there. If so, then that meant there was only one place a note could be: the Dumpster. She was not going there. No. First things first. See if she could somehow communicate with Iwao’s mistress.
The police had asked the hotel to move Mizuki out of the suite she’d shared with Iwao so that they could check the room out further. Alyssa had taken care of the switch that morning. Nikki could use the excuse that she wanted to be sure everything was suitable in the new room. How she would do that, Nikki wasn’t sure. The loud, slowly spoken English she’d tried last night hadn’t gone over too well. But dammit, she had to try.
Maybe she could get away and check on Mizuki right now. Where were Simon and Marco? They should have been back by now. Had they found anything more incriminating against Kurt Kensington, who was now busy chatting up Sierra Sansi? Sierra, Nikki noticed, did not seem to be pouring the booze down like she had the night before. Was there a reason for that? Sierra was a martial artist who had worked on films. Was she also a great actress? Nikki sighed. What she needed was some time to sit down alone and analyze last night’s events by herself. Something was amiss but she was having trouble putting it together in the middle of this wine tasting.
She was not done picking at Juan Gonzales. She didn’t care that he thought she was rude. She’d try a different tactic, because she planned to find out what his beef was with Iwao.
Juan was now engrossed in a tense-looking conversation with Ruben Pearlman. They glanced at her as she came toward them.
Juan started to walk away and Ruben smiled awkwardly at her. Then her cell phone rang. She could hear it from behind the counter-even over the din of people’s voices. And she also knew it was Derek. She’d set a certain ring tone for him-ABC’s “The Look of Love.” Yes, she was a teenager in the eighties.
She grabbed the phone off the counter and took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, sweetie.” Oh, no, now she was doing the endearment thing that they so did not do, and surely it would tip him off to the presence of winery shenanigans.
The tone in his voice told her that he’d already been tipped off. “Hi, yourself. I just got off the phone about five minutes ago with Simon.”
Shit. Boy, when she got her hands around Simon’s neck, she was going to wring it as hard as she could.
“Yes,” she said, hearing the hesitation in her voice.
“I understand that there is a situation out there.”
“Can you give me a sec? I have to walk outside. I’m actually doing the wine-tasting event for the S.E.E. members right now.”
“I can wait,” he replied, his voice stern.
Nikki grabbed a glass of wine from the table before heading out and took a larger than usual sip while making her way out the side doors. She brought the phone back up to her ear. “I can hear you now.” She could also hear noise in the background where he was and decided to try to change the course of the conversation. “Where are you?”
“I’m at a restaurant that one of the Salvatores’ relatives owns in Manhattan.”
“Oh, Italian. Good. What are you having?”
“Ravioli. I think. Stop what you’re doing and tell me what’s going on out there, Nik.”
She sighed. “Well, there’s been a hiccup with Alan Sansi’s event here.”
“A hiccup? My brother told me that hiccup was actually a murder.”
She cringed. Man, when she found Simon… Where was he anyway? He’d obviously spent some time on the phone with his brother. Thanks for the heads-up! “Yes. One of the S.E.E. members was murdered last night on the wine train.”
“Jesus, Nikki. Could you have called me?”
“You were on a plane,” she protested. “And then I knew you had meetings and were busy, and what could you do anyway?”
“Not a whole helluva lot considering I’m stuck here in the city. Have you seen the news?”
“No. I’ve been kind of busy myself. What’s the problem?” She leaned against the stone wall that housed the tasting room.
“Only the biggest snowstorm the East Coast has seen in fifty years. The planes are grounded. I don’t know when I can get home.” Nikki heard the frustration in Derek’s voice. “As soon as Simon told me what happened, I called all the airlines, but I already knew no one was getting out of here tonight. It’s been all over the news. It started early this morning and hasn’t let up.”
“That’s terrible, honey.” Terrible, my ass. Secretly, she couldn’t help being a little glad that he was stuck out there. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he would have already been on his way to JFK if he could to get the first flight home. Nikki was not ready to give up playing Colombo anytime soon; there was a killer in Napa and she hadn’t earned her Nosy Nikki name for nuthin’.