“I’ll just see what’s at the top. You stay.” She opened up the lid and luckily found that all the trash bags were tied up the way Housekeeping had been asked to do. It kept down on the flies in the area. She pulled out the bags and that was when things got messy.
There was something so wrong about going through others’ trash-and so disgusting. Ollie sat there looking as grossed out as she was. She riffled through items that made her want to barf, but she kept on going. And into the fifth bag, she hit pay dirt. A crumpled-up, handwritten note on legal paper. She unfolded it. Keep the party for yourself this time. I’m done dealing with you. This had to be the note, didn’t it? Juan was right. The note had not been signed, yet this had to be his just by the tone of it. Who else could have written it? Ruben? Maybe. Anyone else? Nikki didn’t have a clue but knew she needed to get this to Robinson and she desperately needed to wash her hands. At least twice. With antibacterial soap.
She shoved the note into the waistband of her running pants and started off toward the café to get herself and Ollie some water and wash her hands. She’d take a shower as soon as she got home.
They kept a water bowl in the kitchen of the café for Ollie. When she got there, Nikki scrubbed her arms and hands a few times with soap and water and then got herself a bottle of water. Setting the bottle down, she spotted someone sitting alone in the corner of the café. The way the sun shone over the open-air café made it difficult to see the person’s face. Honeysuckle and ivy cascaded throughout the café from overhead and up the side of the walls, casting shadows on the ground and in the corners.
The kitchen faced the café, like a trattoria-very wine country chic. Nikki squinted. Who was that?
Ollie followed her out of the kitchen and she walked over to the person. It was a woman. She looked up as Nikki and Ollie came toward her. It was Sierra Sansi. Her face was tearstained and she looked miserable.
“Sierra? You okay?”
“Sure, I am. I’m perfect, just like the rest of my family.”
Now what was the comeback to that?
Twenty-five
THE only way to handle a loaded statement like the one Sierra had dumped on Nikki was to ask a loaded question. “Why aren’t you perfect?”
Sierra’s sad blue eyes, the same as her father’s, looked at Nikki. “There are too many reasons.”
Nikki was dealing with a victim. Or a psychopath…
“Oh, come on, Sierra. I realize I don’t know you all that well, but you seem fine to me. You seem like a great young woman.”
“Ha! My sister doesn’t think so, my mother doesn’t think so, and my brother definitely doesn’t think so.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Do you smell that? Something smells like trash.”
“Hmmm. No. I don’t.” She wasn’t about to tell Sierra about her Dumpster escapade. “What about your dad?” Nikki pulled up a chair opposite Sierra and took a seat. Ollie dutifully plopped down next to her. The Mexican pavered floor probably felt good against his skin.
“My dad thinks everyone is perfect. No one can do any wrong in his eyes.”
Nikki cupped a hand under her chin and leaned her elbow on the table. “Have you ever thought, Sierra, and again, I don’t know you very well, but I do know people tend to be their own harshest critic, so have you ever thought that maybe it’s not about anyone else in your family or outside your family? Maybe it’s you expecting yourself to be perfect. I understand you do martial arts. That type of discipline demands a certain level of perfection, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t do it anymore. You really don’t smell anything rotten like?”
Nikki did her best to will the stench off her body. “Nope. I heard you were really good at martial arts. Why did you quit?”
“Who told you that I was good?”
“Actually, your sister did.”
“Hayden said that?” There was a spark in Sierra’s eyes.
“Yes, she did. She even mentioned that you had done some movie-related stuff, like stunts and choreography for a martial arts movie.”
“That’s true, but not now. It was kind of a passing phase. It wasn’t for me.” Sierra fidgeted with the ends of the white tablecloth.
“Oh, come on.” Nikki coaxed. “There is far more to this than you’re telling me. You said the other night on the wine train, before everything went south, that I seemed like I’d be a good best friend. Tell me your story.”
Sierra looked at her, and a gaze that Nikki recognized crossed Sierra’s face. She knew it because she’d had that same look in her own eyes many times-from that early distrusting age of about four. “Look, I’m only here to listen. I like your dad. I think he’s cool. I think he has some good philosophies and a nice energy about him. I’ve actually learned a few things from him in the last couple of days, including that sometimes the best soul to share your fears and doubts with is the soul of a stranger.” Okay, so Alan had not said that to her, but it kind of sounded like something he would say.
“You buy into that crap?”
Ooops. Maybe Nikki was wrong. “Well, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes. I straddle the fence, you know? When my life is good and on target, I think my dad is a genius. But when it all goes to hell, I think he’s full of it.”
Nikki sat back. “Let me guess… These days you think he’s full of it?”
She nodded. “Basically. I do. But he believes it. My mother believes it, so does my sister even though she says she doesn’t know. She’s too pragmatic for such spiritual matters.”
Nikki smiled at her. She was jaded but funny. She could relate to Sierra. “I like people and I think you seem like a nice woman, but if you don’t want to share with me, it’s fine. I need to check in with the meditation your dad is running. Thought I might give it a half hour or so, and then I have to get home and start fixing dinner for tonight. Your dad told you about it, right? You coming?”
She nodded.
“Good. If you ever need a friend, some people think I’m okay.” Nikki knew it was evil. In all sincerity, she meant it, though, and wanted to hear the woman’s woes and felt for her, but c’mon! There was no denying that she wanted to find the truth about Iwao and Mizuki. If in becoming Sierra’s friend she learned something that could help, then whom had she wronged? She had to get this girl talking-especially about her connection to Iwao and his nephew. And that meant it was not beneath her to use reverse psychology.
Nikki stood. “See you tonight. Come on, boy.” Ollie perked up. Well, his ears did anyway.
Sierra grabbed her hand. “No. Sit down, please. I need to talk to someone, and like I said, sometimes I think my dad is brilliant, and since he thinks a stranger’s soul is better than that of someone you know, here goes nothing.”
Nikki hoped she wasn’t going to hell for that little lie. She looked upward for a second. The words “sorry” and “forgive me” flashed through her mind. Surely God would understand that she’d only stretched the truth in the name of justice. Wouldn’t he?
“I was really into martial arts.” Sierra looked at her. “And my dad had a connection, actually through Juan Gonzales here, and was able to get me on as a stunt choreographer for a movie and it was good. I enjoyed it.” Her voice shook when she spoke.
“Sierra?”
“I met someone on the set and I fell in love with him. He was, um, well, he was Iwao Yamimoto’s nephew,” Sierra stammered.
“Really?” Of course, Nikki knew this, but Sierra telling her opened up a whole new group of possibilities to explore.
“Yes.” Sierra closed her eyes, tears forming. “It was one of those things that you hear about or see in a movie-true love at first sight.” She wiped her face. “I started martial arts when I was seventeen. I’d been getting into some trouble and my dad could see that I wasn’t going to go with the flow, like Eli or Hayden. I needed another outlet. I got good at it and I liked it. It also got me away from the party scene. Then three years ago, after one of these workshops, my dad introduced me to Juan Gonzales. He’d recently joined the group.”