Murder Unmentionable (14 page)

Brian pulled into the parking lot of L’Etoile, and Emma was surprised to see how few spaces were left. The restaurant was bustling considering it was a Monday night. She looked around as they waited for the maitre d’ to seat them. A table for six was filled with a group celebrating a birthday. She noticed a pile of wrapped gifts next to an older woman’s chair. The private room off the main dining room was also filled, with businessmen in dark suits and ties staring at a pie chart.

The maitre d’ led them to a table for two partially secluded by a giant fake fern. Emma quickly picked up her menu to hide her nervousness.

“I think such a grand occasion calls for a glass of champagne, don’t you?” Brian peeked at her over the top of her raised menu.

Emma was startled. She’d been contemplating the relative merits of the duck versus the lamb. She liked them both
but perhaps she should get something easier to eat? She didn’t want to end up with a bird in her lap or sauce all over her dress. “Grand occasion?”

Brian’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. The ditching of the pea-green shag. The closing of a chapter. The official end to the seventies. At least as they relate to Sweet Nothings.” He spread his napkin in his lap. “Besides, we’re almost done with the renovations, and that’s something to celebrate as well.”

The waiter appeared at Brian’s elbow, and he sent him away with an order for two glasses of Moët & Chandon.

“You don’t look very excited.”

Emma shrugged. “I wish the police would figure out who killed Guy. Frankly, it’s casting a shadow over everything.”

“I know what you mean. Have you heard anything from that detective recently?”

Emma shook her head. “No. If he weren’t so determined to blame it on me, perhaps he would get a little further.”

The waiter glided over with their champagne and silently placed the two bubbling flutes on the table.

Brian lifted his glass and held it in the air toward Emma. “Cheers! Here’s to you. You’re looking especially lovely tonight.”

Emma raised her glass and clinked it with Brian’s. “Thank you.” She knew her face was getting red, and she hoped Brian wouldn’t notice in the dim light.

She quickly turned back to the subject at hand. “It seems to me that between us we should be able to figure this murder out ourselves.”

Brian took a sip of his champagne. “I’m going to see if I can track down anyone else who might have been at that poker game Angel’s boyfriend claimed to be at.”

“According to Kate, it’s quite possible Angel wasn’t home that night, either. But it sounded like it was some kind of
regular thing. Maybe Tom was counting on her not being there when he decided to murder Guy?” Emma shivered. She would never get used to the idea of murder, never.

“And maybe,” she said, watching the bubbles in her glass jostle each other to the top, “it’s something else all together, and we’ll never figure it out. I know Chuck Reilly doesn’t have any evidence to link me to the crime, but still…I keep hearing the prison door clanging shut.” Emma laughed humorlessly.

They looked up to see the waiter hovering near their table, pad and pencil in hand. They placed their orders and watched as he headed toward the kitchen.

There was a momentary awkward silence, but then Brian mentioned having run into one of their former teachers and soon they were reminiscing about their days at Henry County High. Brian regaled Emma with the tale of the time his entire English class had gotten up and moved to the empty classroom next door, and it had taken Mrs. Mulberry ten minutes to notice it.

“It wasn’t until she went into the desk drawer, and her glasses weren’t there that she realized we had switched rooms.”

Their laughter was interrupted by their waiter with their order—chicken
francese
for Emma. She knew the chicken would be boneless breasts sautéed in butter and lemon—easy to cut and easy to eat. She peered over at Brian’s dish. He’d opted for the osso bucco. She loved osso bucco but was afraid to have to deal with dissecting bony veal shanks swimming in a plate of soupy sauce. She could just imagine her white silk dress after two or three bites of that!

Brian obviously wasn’t as nervous as she was. Maybe he didn’t really mean this to be a date, and all she really was to him was his kid sister’s best friend. She watched as he deftly separated the meat from the smooth, round marrow bones.
Of course a couple of dots of sauce wouldn’t show on his dark blazer.

“Are you planning on staying in Paris after you and your aunt open Sweet Nothings?”

Emma hesitated. She hadn’t thought it through yet. She’d always assumed she’d stay long enough to get Aunt Arabella’s shop on its feet and then she’d head back to New York to resume her career. She glanced up at Brian. Now she wasn’t at all sure that that was what she wanted.

Emma fiddled with her spoon. “I’m not sure. What about you?” she asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from her.

“Oh, I’m staying here. I’m launching my own firm and plan to specialize in renovating older homes. Besides, there’s nothing for me to go back to in Nashville. But I’d rather talk about you, Amy.” Brian glanced up, a stricken look on his face. “Emma. I’m so sorry, I meant to say Emma.”

Before Emma could say anything, the waiter arrived with the dessert menu. Brian insisted they share a chocolate molten lava cake, L’Etoile’s signature confection, but Emma had lost her appetite.

Brian had paid the check and they were lingering over coffee when his elbow caught his cup and sent rivulets of coffee splashing across the white tablecloth. Emma jumped up as the brown puddle got closer to her edge of the table.

“I’m so sorry.” Brian jumped up, too, and began dabbing at the mess with his napkin. “Liz always says, you can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere.” Emma noticed that his face had turned a dark, dusky red. So, Brian wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

Suddenly the whole thing struck Emma as unbearably funny, and she began to giggle. Brian glanced up, surprised. Then he began to smile, and he, too, began to giggle. Soon they were both convulsed with laughter.

“Let’s blow this place before they realize the mess we’ve
made,” Brian said breathlessly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

He grabbed Emma’s hand. “Come on. Let’s get out while the going’s good.”

They bolted through the front door of L’Etoile, and into the close, damp night air. Brian kept hold of Emma’s hand as they made their way toward his car, still dissolving every now and then into fits of giggles.

Brian beeped the car doors open and reached for the passenger-side handle. He looked down at Emma and their eyes locked. Suddenly she didn’t feel like laughing anymore. Her heart hit warp speed as she stared into Brian’s blue eyes. For one endless moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he let out a deep exhale and opened the car door with a flourish.

“Madame, your coach awaits.”

Emma plastered a smile on her face as she slid into the darkened car. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she was deeply disappointed. She wasn’t sure, but had she closed her eyes in anticipation of Brian’s kiss? She closed her eyes now—in embarrassment. What an idiot she was! Brian just didn’t see her as girlfriend material. Besides, who was Amy? Was she the one who was really on Brian’s mind?

Brian slid into the driver’s seat, and Emma could feel her face burning in the darkness. To cover her discomfort, she dug around in her purse and pulled out her phone. She’d turned it to vibrate during dinner and needed to check her messages.

There were two—one from her mother in Florida, and one from an unknown number. Emma pressed some buttons and held the phone to her ear.

She was startled when she heard Nikki’s voice come through her BlackBerry.

“Hi, Emma? Call me.” The disembodied voice sounded strange in the darkness of the car. “You know that earring
you found? I know whose it is. And I think it leads to Guy’s murderer.”

“What!” Emma exclaimed suddenly.

“What is it?” Brian glanced at her quickly before returning his gaze to the darkened road in front of them.

“That was Nikki.” Emma relayed the message.

“She actually said that?” Brian pulled over to the shoulder of the road. “She thinks she knows who murdered Guy?”

“Not exactly. But she seems to think this earring is going to lead us to the murderer. She wants me to call her back so we can arrange to meet.”

“Well, you’re not going alone.” Brian looked up and down the road before making a swift U-turn to take them away from town, back toward the Beauchamp Hotel and Spa. “Call her and tell her we’re on the way.”

THE quiet, soothing atmosphere of the Beau was at odds with the rapid beating of Emma’s heart. She focused on the trickling water spilling over the rock wall supporting the front counter. She tried some yoga breathing—in, out, in, out. Her heart continued to beat at her breastbone like a prisoner trying to escape a cell.

Brian looked cool, calm and collected, but Emma could see the pulse beating in his temple, and the minute, jerky movements of his jaw as he clenched and unclenched it.

A different woman was behind the counter tonight, although she was wearing the same uniform of white tunic and black yoga pants.

She smiled broadly as Brian approached the desk.

“Welcome to the Beauchamp Hotel and Spa,” she said by rote, but the warmth directed at Brian seemed real.

Brian explained that one of their guests had called and was expecting them.

The desk clerk smiled, picked up the house phone and dialed the number of Nikki’s room. She listened intently then placed the receiver in its cradle.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no answer. Miss St. Clair does not appear to be in her room.”

Brian smacked himself on the forehead as if suddenly remembering something. “Sorry! She did say she was about to jump in the shower and that she’d leave the door open for us.”

The woman’s forehead creased into a frown. “I really shouldn’t…”

Brian gave her his most winning smile. “Would it be all right if we just went up and checked to see if the door is open? If not, we’ll come right back down and wait until she answers her phone.”

The woman shrugged and looked around. “I’m really not supposed to, but…” She jerked her head toward the elevators. “It can’t really do any harm.”

Brian and Emma turned and started to head toward the elevators.

“If the door isn’t open…” the woman called after them.

“Don’t worry.” Brian gave her another big smile. “We’ll come right back down and wait.”

THE corridor was as quiet as it was the last time they visited, the plush carpeting swallowing the sounds of their footsteps.

“Do you think Nikki is really out?” Emma whispered as they rounded the corner toward her room.

“Don’t know,” Brian admitted. He glanced at his watch. “It’s kind of late to be out and about in Paris, Tennessee. The sidewalks get pulled in pretty early around here.” He grinned ruefully. “More likely she
is
in the shower or just
didn’t get to the phone on time. Fingers crossed.” He held up his hand.

The bulb in the sconce opposite Room 251 was burned out, making the hallway especially dark and shadowy. Brian peered at the room numbers closely.

“This is it.” He raised his hand and rapped on the door. He turned to Emma in surprise. “It’s open.”

Emma started toward the open door to Nikki’s room, but Brian held up a hand.

“Let me go first.”

Emma shivered. “Okay.” She was more than happy to let Brian be the one to enter the room. She didn’t know why, but she had the awful feeling that this wasn’t going to be good.

The living area of Nikki’s suite was messy but empty. A stack of crumpled newspapers threatened to tip off the coffee table, and a film of cigarette ash smudged the thick glass surface. Emma was shocked to see several cigarette butts half buried in the lush pile carpeting. The crystal bowl Nikki had been using as an ashtray was missing.

“Nikki?” Brian called.

Emma tagged behind as Brian went around the corner of the suite and peered into the kitchen. An empty container of expensive bottled water stood in the sink.

“Shall we look in the bedroom?”

Emma was reluctant, although she didn’t know why. “Shouldn’t she have heard us by now? Maybe she went out and accidentally left the door open.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Brian’s face was grim. “Something doesn’t seem right to me.”

Emma silently agreed with him. Brian peered into the bedroom, but it, too, appeared to be empty. Emma breathed a sigh of relief. The bed had been turned down, and an orchid and a sachet of chamomile tea had been left on the pillow.

Brian gestured toward them. “Classy.”

“I guess she really isn’t here.” Emma started backing toward the door.

“There’s still the bathroom.”

Emma’s heart sank. She did
not
want to look in there.

Brian’s broad back blocked the entrance to the bath. Emma couldn’t see around him, but she heard the strangled noise he made as he backed swiftly out of the room.

Emma got only a glimpse of the scene, but she didn’t need more than that to know that Nikki was dead. The missing crystal bowl was on the floor beside her head, and Emma was pretty sure it would turn out to be the weapon that put that sickening dent in Nikki’s skull.