Not One Clue_ A Mystery - Lois Greiman [98]
Mist had enveloped the lower regions, wreathing the valley in silvery spray, leaving just glimpses of paradise below.
A handful of guests had been airlifted in. I have no idea how Solberg had managed it, but as the newlyweds kissed, a golden eagle swooped down from a craggy outcropping of red rock. For a moment it was perfectly backdropped against the bubbling perfection of a blue-velvet cloud and a fit violinist’s poignant rendition of classical music.
I felt my throat tighten with tears.
“How you holding up?” Rivera asked. We hadn’t had much time to discuss things.
I turned to find him watching me and shrugged. “This is the first time my bridesmaid’s dress didn’t have an ass bow the size of the Mojave and I don’t get to wear it.”
His gaze never left mine. “She looks happy.”
I glanced at her. “She had a near-death experience. She’s not thinking clearly.”
“How’d you know she’d break the window, then hide in the closet?”
I took a seat on a nearby rock and watched the ridiculously happy couple. Maybe if I was lucky Solberg would die of ecstasy. Although, I had to admit, he had really come through in the clinch. Jackson’s medical report said he had sustained three broken ribs and a cracked humerus. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer abusive millionaire junky.
“Actually, I thought she’d hide under the bed,” I said.
“I’m told there wasn’t a bed. Just a mattress.”
“On Starsky and Hutch, Emma hid under the bed.”
Rivera gazed out over the silvery, mist-shrouded valley. “Who pretended to be Emma? Starsky or Hutch?”
“It was Emma’s sister. Hutch’s love interest. Almost broke my heart. I had a huge crush on him. Had his poster on my wall for most of a decade.”
Rivera shook his head.
“What? You didn’t think he was good-looking?”
“I think you’re a nut job,” he said. “But I’m kind of glad you’re alive.”
I stared at him a moment, then glanced away. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you right away. Jackson said there would be retribution if the cops got involved.” I could feel the tears welling up again. But at least it was just a remnant of fear now and not some stupid-ass emotion brought on by the flight of an oversized raptor soaring on the haunting strains of “Für Elise.”
“Is that the term he used? ‘Retribution’?”
I nodded. “In Glendale the night he was shot, and on the phone.”
“So that’s how you knew it was him.”
“That and my twenty-one-second conversation with Laney.”
“I never thought that Texas Ranger show would be worth all the daylight it took to film it.”
“Are you kidding? Do you know why Chuck Norris doesn’t wear condoms?”
“Please. Not Chuck Norris jokes.”
“Because there is no protection from Chuck Norris.”
“Oh God.”
“The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.”
He groaned.
I smiled and watched the flight of a distant bird. “So it wasn’t Nadine who broke into my house at all.”
“She did send the letters. But Lavonn was responsible for the B and E. Nadine just saw the opportunity for some airtime when the cops showed up at her door.”
I scowled. “Any publicity is good publicity?”
“I guess that was her line of reasoning, but you’d think that would exclude incarceration,” he said.
“She’s trying to start her own business.”
“Just like Jackson.”
I gave that a moment’s thought. “So he was the original producer of Intensity?”
“Looks like it. Nothing’s sure yet, but he seems to have the necessary knowledge. He owns a fair amount of real estate, some of it under other names. We’re searching for labs.”
“With all that money you wouldn’t think the packet Lavonn shoved in my pocket would be particularly significant.”
“I suppose he didn’t want you finding it and putting two and two together. Besides, it was a hefty amount. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it in your jacket pocket.”
“I had a few other things on my mind. I wish I had made the connection earlier, though. Before Lavonn vandalized my poor house.”
“She said she was scared what Jackson would