“What do you mean, what you found?” Nikki asked.
“Show her the photos, Marco.”
Marco pulled out his cell phone and scooted in next to her. “These are the books he had. The ones you asked us to look for.”
Nikki looked at the thumbnails of the photos. “I don’t understand.” She was looking at a photo of a book. It looked to be some type of comic book.
“They’re graphic novels. Very popular in Japan and the cool thing for teens in this country. They read from the back to the front, and when you look at the photos, they tell a story. Look at these.” Marco brought out a handful of books from his shopping bag. “We think we got copies of every book that Kurt had stored in his room.”
“You guys are smart, but tell me what caused you to do that? What about the books made you think to go out and buy copies?”
“Look at this one.” Simon tossed her one of them.
Nikki started from the back as they suggested. It showed a GI Joe-type hunting a businessman who had wronged a group of people.
“Interesting.”
“We thought so. See, we can be like you, too.” Simon kicked his feet up on the coffee table.
“Like me. What does that mean?”
“I think he means smart,” Marco answered.
“No, I meant snoopdavilicious.”
“Snoopdavilicious?”
“Come on, Snow White. You’re snoopy. We all know it. All of Sonoma County knows it, and your davine and delicious.”
“I think it’s divine,” she said.
“No. It most definitely is not. It’s davine.”
“I guess I’m flattered.” She shook her head. “Okay, so since you two are so snoopdavilicious, what is your gut telling you about these books?”
“That Kurt is a total flipped-out comic book nut,” Simon said, sounding proud of himself.
“Beyond that.”
Simon took his feet off the table and leaned forward, his face turning so serious it almost made Nikki laugh. “Okeydokey. Here’s what we think, because we talked about it.” He looked at Marco, who nodded. “Kurt lives in a fantasy world, a violent one. He reads these Japanese comics, then he comes here as part of the Sansi group. He sees Iwao. Ooh, he thinks. Bad Japanese man just like in my book. I must take him out, like the hero in the book.” Simon leaned back, clearly pleased with himself. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re nuts, too,” she said.
“No, really. Think about it.”
“We forgot to tell you, Bellissima, that Kurt has dog tags.”
“Dog tags?”
“Yes, like the kind you wear in the army,” Simon said. “He’s a trained killer. Now that’s a theory. Oh, ding, ding, ding.” He tapped the side of his head excitedly. “This just came to me. What if Kurt Kensington is a trained killer who was hired by someone else to kill Iwao and Mizuki?”
“I think I could believe that, but what about the taunting of the police with the cork-in-the-mouth thing?” Nikki asked.
“Maybe whoever hired him is beyond prosecution. Maybe Kurt is being protected by someone untouchable, like a government agency, and Iwao really was a bad guy or someone trying to harm our country and now Kurt is trying to plant diversions by doing the crazy stuff.” Simon was talking at warp speed, caught up in his titillating theories.
“Okay, Jason Bourne, say that’s true, why kill Mizuki?”
“Because she’s also bad.” Simon propped his feet back up on the coffee table. Ollie sidled up to him and Simon shooed him away. “I’ll be Jason Bourne any day, by the way. I looove Matt Damon.”
“I thought you loved me,” Marco said.
“Don’t be silly. You know what I mean.”
“Guys!”
They both looked at her.
“You could be on to something.” Nikki had thought of the organized crime angle before. What if Iwao did have some kind of bad business deal? From all accounts with Juan Gonzales (and possibly Ruben Pearlman), he’d done so. What if he’d screwed over someone he shouldn’t have and Kurt Kensington was simply a hired gun, or like the other two men, Kurt had a direct link to Iwao? Had Iwao done something to piss him off, too, and Kurt, being a loose cannon, snapped? “Hold that thought.” Nikki jumped up from the couch and took the applications off the counter. “We have work to do, boys.”
“Wait a minute, are those what I think they are?” Simon asked.
“Yes, and I don’t need a scolding. Let’s start with Kensington.”
“What does she have there?” Marco asked.
“The S.E.E. applications,” Simon said.
Marco brought a hand to his mouth. “No!”
“I do.”
“Bellissima, you have gone too far.”
“No. I have not. Maybe we can read these over and find the crazy person who did this. It’s worth a shot and I say we start with Kensington.”
“Don’t fight it, babe. It’s a losing battle.” Simon knew that there would be no stopping Nikki now. “At least you know that you can remove ours from that pile. Go ahead and hand me some.”
“You are a quick study, my friend,” Nikki said.
Simon shrugged, and took a handful from the stack of folders.
Marco followed suit and Nikki opened up Kurt’s file. She skimmed over the usual name and address stuff and then read the essay section. The first question was, Who are you? Kurt’s first sentence was, I am a killer.
“Okay, guys. I think I may have something.” Nikki continued reading and shared the content with her now captive audience. “Kensington was in Iraq with the special forces. He killed a civilian and was put on trial for it. He says that he was guilty of the crime but thought the man was a terrorist and he was discharged from the army after the trial. He has since been seeing a shrink, who suggested he find his soul and spiritual side again-thus his application to become a member.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Simon said.
“Good? Good? No. The guy is an admitted killer,” Nikki said.
“He thought the man was a terrorist,” Marco interjected.
“Yes, but the thing is, this guy knows how to kill, and from reading this, he does seem a bit unstable,” Nikki said.
The boys couldn’t disagree with that. Over the next couple of hours, way late into the night, they all read over the applications. Nothing else really stood out. Yes, everyone had some kind of dysfunction and turmoil. They were all seekers of enlightenment, but nothing screamed at Nikki the way Kensington’s application had. Combine that with his horrific dream board, and as far as she was concerned, he appeared certifiable.
The three of them lay back on her couch looking stoned and feeling wiped out.
“You did good, boys. Thank you. I needed your help. But I have to tell you that you scared me to death tonight. You can’t tell me that it took you five hours to break and enter the suite and then head on over to Barnes & Noble.”
“It did take some time to locate the books,” Marco said. “But that’s not the only reason it took so long.”
“Oh,” she said. “I get it.” Oops. She did not need any intimate details.
“You have such a dirty mind, Snow White. It’s not what you think.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” they both said.
“After Marco heard about the vision board and the baby idea I’ve been mulling over, he was kind of surprised. We needed to talk.”
“Yes, we did,” Marco added.
“And after we talked, we had a wonderful dinner of grilled salmon in this amazing Pinot sauce, and some champagne. Then we went to the bookstore and found the books, and then we came straight here.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me?” she asked. “What’s the champagne all about?” They drank champagne only on special occasions or to celebrate.
“Well, Snow White.” Simon looked at her with tears in his eyes. “Marco and I are going to have a baby. We are going to find a mother to have our child. In fact, we want to know if you’ll have our baby.”
Twenty-three
