“Why would he do that? Want to keep you two apart?” Nikki asked.
“Control. And for this.” He held out Sierra’s hand. “The ring. It has been in my family for over two hundred years and my uncle is a traditionalist. Or he was, anyway. He did not want me to give this to a white woman. He had an arranged marriage already planned for me, and the woman I was supposed to marry already had the ring. When the police called and told me what had happened, I went to her and she gave it back. I think she may have been as relieved as I was. I know there’s another man she’s in love with and now she’s free to be with him. And”-he beamed at Sierra-“I’m free to be with the woman I love.”
Sounded like a decent motive right there. “Do they still have arranged marriages in Japan?” Nikki asked.
“Some. Old families. Old money. A lot of tradition,” he replied.
“Sounds to me as if your uncle was a complicated man.”
Jen smiled. “To say the least.”
“We are together now and that’s what counts. I hope they find this killer and we can put everything behind us and move on with our lives,” Sierra said.
“Me, too,” Nikki replied. “I better get back inside and see if anyone else needs anything. Do you?”
They didn’t. Nikki closed the sliders behind her, full of questions about Jen and Sierra.
Her mind was racing with these questions, along with questions about Kurt Kensington. His strange behavior and what she’d learned about him on his application still made him look like the number one suspect in her book. She wished she could get Robinson to see eye to eye with her on that. There was also this Gonzales-Pearlman angle, and she knew that Robinson felt the answers were snarled up in that web.
She shook her head. Wherever the answers lay as to who had committed the murders, they weren’t going to be found tonight.
Dessert went over as well as dinner, and before long everyone was getting ready to leave. Everyone except for Alyssa and Robinson. Petie had fallen asleep with his head in his mother’s lap on the couch.
Nikki said good night to the guests who were leaving. Marco kissed her on the cheeks as usual. “Beautiful, Bellissima. Lovely party. Thank you.” She kissed him back.
Simon wrapped an arm around her and leaned a head on her shoulder. He glanced at Alyssa and Robinson. “You are good. I’m impressed, Snow White.”
Nikki didn’t bother the couple, who continued to talk while she did most of the dishes. It was after ten when they told her good night and Robinson carried Petie out to the car for her.
Alyssa walked ahead with Petie’s bag. Robinson thanked her.
“Learn anything?” she asked.
“Not a damn thing about the investigation.” He smiled. “But I did discover you sure can cook. I had a great time, Nikki.”
She closed the door behind Robinson. She wanted to tell him what she’d discovered about Kensington, her thoughts on Jen and Sierra, and give him the note. But at that moment, after seeing him with Alyssa and Petie, she decided to wait until the morning. Maybe tonight she hadn’t been able to tie this mystery together, but at least she was making people happy.
Partygoer Chili with Hahn Estate Merlot
Nikki has herself in one spicy mess, but at least she’s good at mixing things up. Way to go on the matchmaker front. If you have to put together a shindig for a group of your family and friends, or else enlightened dysfunctionals (who could also be family and friends), then fix a pot of chili and uncork this simple, soft Merlot by Hahn Estate, with fruit flavors of black cherry and raspberry that are the perfect pairing with this chili.
SPICE MIX A
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp garlic salt
3 tbsp chili powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
SPICE MIX B
3 tbsp chili powder
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tbsp brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp onion powder
CHILI
1 tbsp cooking oil
3 lbs London broil, cut into 1/4” cubes
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
8-oz can chopped green chilies
8-oz can tomato sauce
12-oz can beer
13-oz can beef broth
13-oz can chicken broth
3 tbsp chipotle hot sauce
1/2 tsp Tabasco sauce
In a large Dutch oven, heat cooking oil over medium heat and cook beef until brown on all sides. Add onions, peppers, tomato sauce, beer, beef broth, chicken broth, and spice mix A. Bring to a boil, lower heat, and simmer for about 1 ½ hours.
Stir in spice mix B, chipotle sauce, and Tabasco. Simmer ½ hour longer.
Twenty-eight
THE night had been interesting on so many fronts. Nikki was tired but she wanted to write it all down and sort through her thoughts. Ollie climbed up next to her. “You’re getting spoiled,” she said. “Wait until your master gets home.” Thinking about Derek made her sad. She wished he’d call.
If there was anything at all to that “ask and you shall receive” verse, or the law of the universe stuff, then it must’ve been working because the phone rang and on the other end was Derek.
“It is so good to hear your voice. Why haven’t you called?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said, sounding exhausted.
“Of course I would. Is everything okay?”
“For the most part.” Derek’s voice sounded funny.
“Derek, what in the heck are you talking about?”
“I don’t think this thing between us and the Salvatores is going to work out.”
“Why? What gives?”
“Today, Vicente decides he wants to go to the Catskills. It’s freezing-ass cold and he wants to drive to the Catskills. Let me remind you that the biggest snowstorm ever is going on here.”
Uh-oh. He’d had a few drinks. Not like Derek to sound tipsy and even then some. He would often have a glass or two of wine in the evening, but never enough to make him slur. And he was definitely slurring tonight. “Uh-huh.”
“Right. We all get in the limo, and don’t ask me why I agreed to this. Right now I feel so stupid.”
“Who is ‘we all’?”
“Vicente, and get this, he has a bodyguard.”
“Is he in the mob?”
“I wonder. Total ass, though.”
“You’re kind of scaring me.” She scratched Ollie between his ears, reminding herself that there was nothing to be scared of with him right there.
“And his daughter was with us, too.”
“Sophia, right?” She jumped up and went straight for the computer. She’d forgotten to Google “Sophia Salvatore.” She kept the phone in the crook of her chin. Ollie did not follow her. Bad dog.
“Yeah, yeah. Her.”
“Oh.” Oh. Sophia Salvatore was listed on some site about Italian winery owners. The photo was small. She stood next to her father, but small or not, Nikki could tell she was gorgeous. Just as she’d thought. “What happened?”
“Okay, so we get halfway there, going as slow as can be, and even the bodyguard is trying to explain to Vicente that we should go back to the city, but you think that old fart is listening to anyone else? No. Claims he’s on his death bed practically and may never get back here and something about his aunt who moved to the Catskills when he was a boy and he wanted to go back because he’d spent a summer with her before she died and it was the best time of his life. Talk about sentimental.” Man, was Derek rambling tonight.
“Oh, Derek.”
“It gets better. We get out and the driver gets lost, and the next thing I know, we start having car trouble and the driver has to pull over. He calls his dispatch service and they tell him it’s gonna be at least two hours before anyone can get out there. So, we’re sitting there with the heater on, and I’m still trying to make a deal with this guy, and all he wants to do is drink port and shove his daughter on me while telling me I need to marry her.”