The Dead and the Beautiful (6 page)

“Jeremy didn't post my bail,” she said in a small voice.

Nikki waited for an explanation. When Alison didn't go on, Nikki pressed, “Okay, so who did? Your ex-husband?”

Alison laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. “Farid? Are you kidding? He'd let me die of thirst before he offered me water from the hose in the backyard.”

Again, Nikki waited. Again, Alison wasn't forthcoming with information. “Then who posted your bail?” Nikki asked pointedly. To Nikki's knowledge, Alison had no friends; it was the way Farid had liked it.

Just then the door to the garage opened into the kitchen. Jocelyn walked in, backpack flung over her shoulder. When she saw her mom, she ran to hug her. “I thought you were in jail,” the teen cried, her arms tight around Alison. “I'm so glad you're not in jail.”

Jocelyn was gorgeous in all the ways her mother wasn't. Even at fourteen, it was obvious she was going to be a beauty. She had her father's dark complexion and dark eyes, and an athletic build. She carried a certain air of confidence you didn't usually see in teenagers, which amazed Nikki, considering the fact that Alison was the polar opposite in that area.

Jeremy walked in behind his niece and frowned when he saw his sister. “I went to post your bail and they said you'd already been released. Who the hell posted your bail, A?”

Alison still had her arms around her daughter. She looked over Jocelyn's shoulder sheepishly. “I can't tell you.”

Chapter 6

“W
hat do you mean you can't tell me?” Jeremy bellowed.

Nikki turned to look at him, wondering who the heck this guy in Jeremy's kitchen was. It certainly wasn't Jeremy. Had aliens taken over his body?

Aliens?
Where did that come from? She'd been reading too many Dean Koontz novels.

“Jeremy,” Nikki said calmly. She took a step toward him and placed both hands on his chest. “Let her catch her breath. Let Jocelyn get something to eat and then maybe you and Alison can—”

Jeremy brushed by her, jerking at his Gucci watercolor tie. “I'm going to change.” He walked past his sister without saying a word to her. “Is Maria here?”

“She's putting laundry away.” Nikki waited until she heard his footsteps in the hall before turning to Alison. “You need to tell him what's going on.”

Jocelyn had let go of her mother's shoulders but was still holding her hand. “You need to tell
me
what's going on, Mom,” the teen said. “Uncle Jeremy wouldn't tell me anything in the car. He had me called to the office in the middle of a biology quiz and said he was signing me out for the day. Then we went to his lawyer's office, but he made me sit in the lobby. Like, for hours. Mom, were you really arrested?”

Alison just stood there in the middle of the kitchen, looking scared and lost.

“Mom,” Jocelyn urged, “you should sit down. You look like you're going to pass out.”

Nikki followed the teen's lead and took Alison's other arm. They led her toward one of the kitchen stools.

Jocelyn was not only beautiful, but she was wise beyond her years. Nikki had a feeling she'd seen more of real life than most Beverly Hills kids had.

“Sit,” Nikki instructed. “I'll get you a glass of water.”

Jocelyn backed her mother up to the stool. “What were you arrested for? Please tell me you haven't been calling Dad and hanging up again.”

Alison just shook her head.

Nikki came back around the island, carrying the glass of water. “Jocelyn's going to find out, Alison,” she said as gently as she could. “It's going to be all over the news. It's probably already been tweeted across the country.”

“It's not true, Jocelyn,” Alison whimpered, tearing up. “What they're saying. I didn't do it.”

“Now you're scaring me, Mom.” Jocelyn sat on a stool next to Alison's and rubbed her mother's arm. She was wearing jeans and a cute, flowered, fuchsia T-shirt. “What do the police think you did?”

Alison sat on her stool, frozen.

“Drink,” Nikki insisted, pushing the glass into her hand.

Alison drank as Nikki and Jocelyn watched. “They . . . they think I . . . I . . . I can't even say it.” She looked up at Nikki. “I'm going to lose custody. I'm going to lose my baby.” She set the glass on the counter, spilling some of the water with her wobbly hand. She lowered her head to her arms on the granite countertop.

“What's she talking about?” Jocelyn pleaded. “Tell me the truth, Nikki. She never wants to tell me the truth. She thinks I'm still five years old.”

Nikki glanced at Alison, who still rested her head on the counter. She didn't like the idea of getting in the middle of a mother/daughter thing, but how could they not tell Jocelyn? Ryan's murder had made the headlines of every newspaper and had been the opening piece on all the news magazine shows on TV. An arrest would land the case on the front pages again. The kids in school would be talking about it. They'd all be talking about Jocelyn.

Nikki took a deep breath. “She was arrested for Ryan Melton's murder.”

“Ryan Melton!” Jocelyn stared at Nikki. Blinked. “The star?”

“Actually,
he's
not a star,” Nikki clarified. “His wife is Diara Elliot.
She's
the star.”

“But Mom doesn't even
know
Ryan Melton.” She looked at her mother. “Mom, you don't know Ryan Melton, do you?”

“He was a client,” Nikki explained when Alison didn't say anything.

“My mom knew
Ryan Melton
? She walked his dog? For real and true?” It was the first time Jocelyn sounded like a teenager since she'd come in the door. She looked at her mother. “Why didn't you tell me, Mom?” When Alison just sniffled, Jocelyn looked to Nikki.

“Client confidentiality,” Nikki explained.

“For a
dog
?”

Nikki shrugged. “People are funny in Hollywood.”

“Right,” Jocelyn exhaled. She glanced at her mother, then back at Nikki. “Why do they think she did it? My mom would never hurt anyone. When my goldfish died, she couldn't flush it. I had to do it. And I was, like, six.”

“I don't know the details,” Nikki said. Which was true. Mostly. “But I'm going to find out.” That, at least, wasn't a lie.

Nikki heard Jeremy's footfalls on the stairs. She reached out and gave Jocelyn a half hug. They had never been on hugging terms either, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Jocelyn didn't pull away.

“It's going to be okay,” Nikki assured the girl.

Jocelyn nodded bravely.

Nikki gave the teen some space. “Why don't you go see what the girls are doing? Maybe start homework? Give your mom and Uncle Jeremy a few minutes to talk?”

“He's really mad,” Jocelyn murmured. “I've never seen Uncle Jeremy mad like this. He's always so nice.” She walked over to her mother and laid her hand on her shoulder. “You going to be okay if I go hang out with the kids for a while? I've got a big geometry test on Monday to study for.”

“I'll be okay.” Alison's voice was muffled by her arms.

Jocelyn looked at Nikki as if to say,
Will you take care of her?
Nikki nodded.

Jocelyn was walking out of the kitchen with her backpack on her shoulder at the same time that Jeremy was walking in. He closed the pocket doors behind him.

“All right, Alison. Tell me what the hell is going on.”

At the sound of his abrupt tone, Alison lifted her head from the counter and turned on the stool. “I . . . I don't know.”

He took another step toward her. “You
don't know
? You spent the day in jail and you
don't know
what's going on?”

Alison trembled at the sound of his voice.

“Jeremy.” Nikki brushed his arm with her hand.

He took a deep breath. Exhaled.

Alison sat there on the stool, hanging her head, staring at the Italian tiled floor.

“Why were you arrested, Alison?” Nikki asked. “What evidence was strong enough for them to actually arrest you? Was it just because your fingerprints were on the dog leash?”

“What dog leash?” Jeremy looked at his sister's teary face. “Ryan Melton was killed with a dog leash?”

“With Alison's fingerprints on it,” Nikki admitted. “But that's not enough evidence to convict someone,” she went on quickly. “I'm surprised Dombrowski would issue a warrant on that lame evidence.” She looked at Alison. “Is that all they have on you? Just the dog leash?”

Alison's lower lip quivered.

“Jeez,” Jeremy muttered, shaking his head. “What'd you do, Alison? Huh? What'd you do?”

“I didn't kill him. You have to believe me.” She burst into tears. “I . . . I didn't . . . k-kill him, but . . . but . . .”

Nikki let go of Jeremy's arm and stood in front of Alison. Now she was getting annoyed. “You didn't kill him, but you
what
?”

“I . . . I . . . l . . . lied . . . to . . . to the . . . p-police. I . . . I think they . . . they know. The . . . the security tapes.”

“You lied to the police? Not again. Really, Alison? What, you didn't learn your lesson the first time?”

“I was scared!” Alison shouted, surprising not only Jeremy and Nikki, but, apparently, herself.

Nikki threw both her hands up as if refereeing a boxing match. Jeremy turned away and strode to the other side of the kitchen.

“You lied about what, Alison? What did you tell the police that wasn't true?”

Jeremy was now pacing.

“Oh, this is bad,” Alison moaned. “This is so bad. Farid's going to take Jocelyn.” She began to rock back and forth. “He's going to take Jocelyn, and then he's going to move back to Saudi Arabia and I'm never going to see her again.”

Nikki grabbed both of Alison's hands in hers. “You're not going to lose custody. Now look at me. Look at me and listen.”

Alison slowly raised her gaze. Tears ran down her sallow cheeks.

“Tell me what you lied about.”

Again, Alison's lower lip trembled. “I . . . I said I was in the house because I was bringing Muffin back. But . . . but that . . . it wasn't exactly true.”

“You
weren't
returning the dog?”

“No. I mean, yes, I did take Muffin home. But . . . then I went back again. That's when the fish guy told me he was dead.”

“Why did you go back after you dropped off the dog?”

“I can't tell you,” Alison blubbered.

Nikki exhaled. Alison continued to sob. Jeremy continued to pace.

“Okay, okay,” Nikki said after a moment. She patted Alison on the back. “It's all right. But you can't lie to the police. Do you understand me? You can't lie to Detective Dombrowski. He's a good guy. He's a fair guy, but he's smart. He'll catch you in a lie.” She had a whole mouthful of questions, but she knew she wouldn't get any answers as long as Alison was hysterical. “Just tell me you understand.”

She nodded, taking a shuddering breath. “I understand.”

“And you can't lie to me either,” Jeremy said.

Nikki looked over her shoulder at him, then back at Alison. “Who bailed you out?” she asked quietly. Calmly.

“I . . . I don't know. I . . . I'm not supposed to say anything to anyone.”

“Who told you that?”

Alison tried to hang her head, but Nikki tugged at her hands.

“Who?” Nikki repeated.

“My attorney.”

“What attorney? You hired a defense attorney already?”

Alison shook her head. “I don't have money for an attorney. I don't know who hired her. The attorney . . . she said it was a . . . a concerned citizen.”

“A
concerned citizen
?” Jeremy asked. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Alison shrugged, fighting another wave of tears. “I don't know, Jeremy. I swear, I don't. She . . . she took care of my bail; then she picked me up at the holding facility and she dropped me off here.”

“
She
who?” Nikki asked.

Alison fumbled in her pants pocket and pulled out a business card. “Lillie Lambert.”

“Lillie Lambert?” Nikki took the card and stared at it. Lillie Lambert was one of the most well-known, highest-paid hotshot lawyers in Hollywood. Word was, Lillie Lambert was the woman to hire . . . if you or a member of your family were guilty. Just the previous year, she'd gotten a producer's son off on vehicular homicide. It had been a crazy case, worthy of plenty of Nancy Grace airtime. In the end, Lillie Lambert's client had gotten off scot-free, and another producer was forced to live with the death of his son and the knowledge that the young man responsible would never actually be held responsible.

Nikki turned to look at Jeremy. He must have been thinking the same thing, because now he was pale, too.

“I have to go to the powder room,” Alison said. She got up from the bar stool, tucked a straggly piece of hair behind her ear, and walked out of the kitchen.

Nikki walked up to Jeremy. “She didn't do this,” she said.

He wouldn't look at Nikki. “You don't know that.”

“I do,” she whispered. She looked up at him and slowly he shifted his gaze until it met hers.

“What if she did, Nik? I can't have her in my house . . .
with my kids.
”

“Why would she kill Ryan Melton? She doesn't know him. She
walks his dog.
”

“She lied to the police,” he said. “She admitted it.”

“I lied to the police once. I told them he forced me into that car.”

“That's different. You were a kid.”

“I
wasn't
a kid. I was nineteen and I knew exactly what I was doing when I got into that car.”

He put his arms around her shoulders. “Nikki,” he breathed.

“She didn't do it,” she repeated, slipping her arms around his waist. She rested her cheek on his chest for a minute. He smelled good. Jeremy always smelled good.

They just stood there that way for a minute; then he let go of her. “That time when she was arrested. For the robbery. She told me she wasn't with them in the car when they shot a man while robbing his store. She said it was a girl named Alice. There was no Alice.”

“Jeremy, how long ago was that?”

“I don't know. Fifteen, sixteen years ago. Right before she met Farid.”

“Has she done anything since then to suggest to you that she would do something like that now?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed one temple. “I just don't know that I can trust her. That I should. I mean . . . she's been arrested. The police don't arrest you without serious cause.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Why are you so quick to come to her defense? You've never been a big Alison fan.”

“Because she didn't do it.”