Derek returned the sarcastic nickname exchange and said, “That’s right, that’s terrible, sweetie.”
“Derek?” Nikki heard a woman’s voice in the background. “Your ravioli is on the table. It’ll get cold.”
“Hi, Sophia. I’ll be with the table in a moment. I have an important call here.”
“Sophia? Who is Sophia?” Nikki asked, her blood pressure rising by the second. Anyone with a name like Sophia could mean nothing less than trouble with a capital T.
“She’s Vicente’s daughter. She’s also the family attorney and is going over these contracts with us. She’s a real stickler.”
“Okay.” Nikki didn’t have a more intelligent response in her repertoire. She hated when she sounded jealous. For all she knew, the woman was an ugly hag. “Is she pretty?” Ooh. She closed her eyes tightly. Now why on earth did she have to go there? That was even stupider than responding with the “okay.”
“She’s attractive, I guess. If you like her look.”
Not the answer you want to hear from your boyfriend. Her look? Don’t even pursue this one any further, Nikki warned herself. In fact, talking about the murder suddenly appeared like an easier conversation to have.
“I can’t believe this happened on the wine train. Do they have any idea who did it? And Simon says that the workshop is still taking place.”
“Yes. Alan felt that was the best way to go. And no, Detective Robinson really isn’t sure who did the crime, or if it was one of the members or someone who worked on the train. My guess is that he’s exploring all the angles.”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. The only way Nikki could tell that Derek was still there was by the background noise.
“Jonah Robinson is investigating the murder?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She shifted uncomfortably against the wall. “Is that a problem?”
“No. He’s kind of different, and I thought when he was investigating Georges’s murder that he kind of had a thing for you.”
She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
“Derek, we really need you at the table.” Nikki heard Sophia’s voice again.
“I’m sorry, babe.”
Another freaking endearment. Bad sign. “You have to go, I know.”
“I do, but listen to me. I know you too well, and this is not the ideal situation here. You there, in the middle of a murder investigation. Me here, not watching your back. It’s not good. You better not be poking into this thing. Keep Ollie with you and promise me you’ll stay out of Robinson’s way and let him do his job.”
She bit her lower lip. “I promise,” she muttered. Crap. She hated when he made her make promises that she absolutely knew she couldn’t keep. That was like holding a cookie jar out to a five-year-old and saying, “Now promise me you won’t eat one when I go back and clean my room. You be a good boy, Johnny, and watch Sesame Street.”
Please! And that was the problem: Derek knew she couldn’t keep that promise and she knew she couldn’t keep it, but she made it anyway.
“You better not be crossing your fingers behind your back, Nik. I mean it this time. Keep your word, and just stay away from Robinson. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Enjoy your ravioli.”
And with that, he was gone and she was left standing outside the tasting room, cell phone in one hand, empty wineglass in the other, knowing she’d made empty promises to the man she loved. What a scoundrel! How to live with herself? She looked at the empty glass. She could refill. That might make it easier. No. No. She couldn’t do that.
Okay, since the empty promises had been made and she already knew she’d break them and feel all that guilt and shame, she figured, what the hell? Nikki went to see if she could talk again with Mizuki.
Cheese Ravioli with Sweet Italian Sausage and Bracco Chianti Classico
Sophia! Sophia! That could not be good. All women named Sophia are sexpots and gorgeous. It’s a well-known fact. And Derek is having ravioli with her at an Italian restaurant! Hmmm. Well, the only consolation Nikki can have in this moment is that she knows she makes the best ravioli around. So, when Derek takes a bite of that ravioli he’s eating there with Sophia, he won’t be able to help remembering Nikki’s divine cheese ravioli with sweet Italian sausage.
Got to have a good bottle of Chianti when eating ravioli, right? Yeah, well, Derek better not be with that Sophia! When he gets back to Napa, Nikki will have to make him her ravioli and pair it with her favorite Chianti by Bracco Wines owned by Lorraine Bracco of The Sopranos. The Chianti Classico is an elegant red wine with flavors of black cherry and plum. It’s aged in new Slovenian oak barrels for a year. It’s a fantastic wine for pasta and meat dishes.
12 oz fresh sweet Italian sausage links
1 cup beef broth
1 cup chopped onion
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp olive oil
28-oz can whole Italian-style tomatoes
¼ cup tomato paste
¼ cup dry red wine
2 tbsp snipped fresh basil
1 tsp dried oregano, crushed
¼ tsp crushed red pepper
12 oz dried or 16 oz fresh cheese-filled ravioli
In a large skillet combine sausage links and broth. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Drain off broth. Cook sausage links, uncovered, for 2-4 minutes more, or until brown, turning frequently. Remove from skillet; cool. Slice into ½-inch pieces. Wipe skillet clean with paper towels.
In the same skillet, cook onion and garlic in hot oil till tender but not brown. Stir in tomatoes, tomato paste, wine, basil, oregano, and crushed red pepper. Add sausage to skillet. Bring to boiling; reduce heat. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes, or to desired consistency.
Meanwhile, in a large saucepan or pasta pot bring 3 quarts water to boiling. Add pasta. Reduce heat slightly. Boil, uncovered, 15 minutes for dried pasta or 8-10 minutes for fresh, or till al dente, stirring occasionally. (Or cook according to package directions.) Immediately drain. Return pasta to warm saucepan. Pour sausage mixture over hot cooked pasta. Serve immediately.
Eighteen
NIKKI peered back inside the wine tasting and saw that Alan Sansi had taken center stage again. This was good for her. It meant she could head over to Mizuki’s suite.
She knocked on Mizuki’s door, hoping no one from the wine tasting was wandering the halls, but there was no response. This troubled Nikki. Where would Mizuki have gone? Maybe she was resting. Both Robinson and Nikki agreed that Mizuki had information to share. The problem was, no one had been able to get that information because of the language barrier. It was too bad the interpreter that Robinson had requested hadn’t come by when he was supposed to. She knocked again before giving up. It was dark. Ollie needed to get out and be fed. Poor guy. He was used to a lot more attention than what he’d been getting over the past couple of days.
Thoughts of Ollie led to thoughts of Derek. She didn’t like the way their conversation had ended. She figured he was angry and frustrated, which she understood. Here he was, stuck in New York, when this horrible thing had happened. But really, what could he do? The strangest thing about it all was what seemed to be Derek’s jealousy toward Robinson. He had nothing to be jealous about. The detective was just doing his job. Yes, he’d asked her to help and she’d omitted telling Derek that part. Boy, wouldn’t that have really gotten under his skin! She wouldn’t have wanted that.
Speaking of jealousy, what about that Sophia chick who’d been with Derek? A woman with a certain look. Hmmm. Nikki would have to Google this Sophia Salvatore character later. Right now she had to find out where Mizuki was. Nikki couldn’t believe that she’d left her room. Maybe she went to the restaurant for some dinner? Nikki checked but she wasn’t there.
Simon and Marco typically helped run the front desk during the evening, but since they were busy doing her dirty work-at least they were supposed to be-and Alyssa had taken off to be with Petie, one of the part-timers, an elderly woman named Edna, was at the desk for the evening.
Edna reminded Nikki of what a grandma should be-sweet disposition, gray hair, crepe-like skin that framed pretty blue eyes, and always wearing pastel colors. She walked with a little hunch to her back, which Nikki figured had to be osteoporosis setting in. Edna was a doll. The only negative was that Edna could be forgetful, and Nikki at times wondered if she was fighting senility. But she was always willing to fill in when they needed some extra help.
“Hi, Eddie.” Nikki used the nickname everyone around the winery had for Edna.
“Hi, Nikki. Beautiful night, isn’t it?”
“It is. I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a guest staying here named Mizuki, um, gosh, I don’t know her last name. She’s staying under the Yamimoto reservation, I believe.”
Edna brought her hand up to her mouth. “Oh! That was the man who was killed on the wine train.”
Nikki nodded. “Yes. I’m looking for his, his… well, I’m looking for Mizuki. She’s probably about five feet, very petite, a Japanese woman. Doesn’t speak any English. Did she by chance stop by here, or did you notice anyone like that?”
“No. I’m afraid I haven’t, dear.”
“Hmmm. Okay. I’m worried about her is all.”
“Why don’t you try calling her room?” Edna suggested.
“Good idea.” Nikki picked up the house phone and dialed the suite number. The phone rang until it went to the hotel voicemail. She decided to try again. Still no answer. She could understand Mizuki not answering the phone because of the language barrier, but still Nikki redialed the number enough times that anyone would have picked it up had they been in the room. Nikki placed the receiver back on the phone.
What to do? Here was the thing: there could be something in Mizuki’s personal belongings that could help find the killer, and if she was not in the room, Nikki would have an opportunity to check it out. It seemed like Robinson would have already searched the room himself. He could do that, couldn’t he? Probably not without a search warrant, but had Mizuki’s room been a top consideration yet? Nikki didn’t believe so. Nevertheless, searching private belongings really was wrong-plain and simple. Yes, she’d asked Simon and Marco to do it, although for some reason having them search Kensington’s stuff hadn’t seemed as wrong as it would be to go through Mizuki’s things. She was a nice woman who’d been thrown into this horrible mess. Robinson should really let her go home. Man, she was overthinking this stuff. Her frazzled brain only made everything more confusing and complicated.
“Are you okay, dear?” Eddie asked.
“Fine. I’m fine.” She smiled at her. “You know, I think I might check on her, take her some tea. If she isn’t in her room, I can leave it for her as a treat.”
“That would be nice,” Eddie said. “I’ll get you the key to the room. You know a funny story. I left my house keys here the other day, and when I got home, I couldn’t get into the house. My neighbor came over and reminded me that I keep a key under a potted plant.” She laughed but looked kind of sad at the same time. “Getting old is a bitch.”
Nikki put an arm around her. “Aw, Eddie. Come on. You’re not getting old. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone gets forgetful sometimes.”
“I am getting old, hon, and it’s not sometimes. It’s happening more often. Soon I may have to retire for good.”
“I hope that’s not the case, but we’ll understand. You let me know what you need from me and Malveaux, okay?”
“You’re a good girl.”
A few seconds later, Eddie came from the back room with a key for Nikki to enter Mizuki’s suite. “Here you go.”
Nikki told her they would have coffee next week when the event was over and talk about the future. She thanked her and went outside to head back up the stairs. Then she knocked again on the hotel door. Still no answer. She looked around, put the key in the hole, and turned. The door opened and she pushed it slightly, calling out Mizuki’s name. She opened the door wider. No one was there, but Mizuki’s suitcase was on the bed and looked to be half-packed.
The clothes in the suitcase all looked expensive. Nikki peered down at them-designer labels, including the shoes. Was Mizuki headed home? Had Robinson told her that it was okay to go?
She hesitantly lifted up some of the clothes. Wait a minute. Here was a DVD case. Maybe this was the DVD that Iwao kept trying to hand to Alan. There was no one around so Nikki opened the case. There was a DVD in it, but there was no label. It was just blank. What could be on it? Nikki wanted to know but she couldn’t do that. This was the woman’s private belonging. She squeezed her fists together and closed the case up, placing it back down on the clothing.
Nothing in the room seemed out of the ordinary. It was quiet except for the roaring of the gas fire. Why had she left that on? She must not have gone far. Nikki also spotted a silk robe over one of the chairs facing the fireplace.
Nikki looked a little closer around the room. Typically, in every room, a bottle of Malveaux wine would be on the console table. Every day, if it was empty, a new one would be replaced by the staff. There wasn’t one there. Nikki looked around the room; it wasn’t anywhere. She’d have to talk to Housekeeping about this. She ran her finger over the desk for dust. There was a little. Whoever had been cleaning this room would have something to answer for. While she was at it, she figured she’d better check the bathroom and make sure they’d replaced the towels.
When she came around the corner, she stopped. The room started that spinning thing it did whenever this type of thing happened to Nikki-which was becoming far too often. There, lying on the floor, with her eyes wide open with a corkscrew lodged into her chest and a wine cork stuffed into her mouth was Mizuki. Dead.