Heat could tell by Soleil Gray's reaction when she and Rook entered the back of the studio that Allie had not called to tip her off they were coming. The performer was running the same routine with the male dancers they had seen her working at the rehearsal hall, only this time she was singing live to the track. The song was a hard-driving rocker called 'Navy Brat,' Nikki guessed, judging by the repeat of the phrase in the chorus. It would also explain why the boys were in white sailor suits. Soleil's wardrobe was a one-piece sequined white bathing suit with admiral's epaulettes. Hardly regulation, but it had the advantage of showing off her stunning gym-rat figure.
She spun two cartwheels across the stage into the waiting arms of three sailors, but made a sloppy landing. Soleil waved her arms to stop the track, and when it chopped to a halt, she blamed the sailors. Nikki knew it had happened because she was distracted by her.
The stage manager called a crew break. As the camera operators and stagehands left for the exits, Heat and Rook approached Soleil on stage. 'I don't have time for this. I'm on live TV at midnight, and in case you didn't notice, this sucks ass.'
'I don't know,' said Rook. 'You've got me counting the days to Fleet Week.'
The singer pulled a robe on. 'Do we have to do this right now? Here?'
'No, not at all,' said Nikki. 'If you'd like, we can do this in about a half hour at my precinct.'
'In a more official setting,' said Rook with a wink to Nikki.
'Might cut into your rehearsal a bit, Soleil. And you're right. You can use it.' Heat had decided on the drive over that this was going to be about intimidation and shaking the tree.
'You don't have to be a bitch.'
'Then make it so I don't have to be. This is a homicide investigation and I had to come back to you because you lied to me. Starting with saying you were with Allie when in fact you left her early in the night.'
Soleil's eyes darted around. She took a step as if to go, but stayed. 'OK, here's the deal. It's a reflex thing. Whenever I have something to handle like a detail thing, I always refer it to the record company.'
'That's weak,' said Nikki.
'That's the truth. Besides, I told you, I was also with Zane. Did you talk to Zane?'
'Yes, and he said you were with him at the Brooklyn Diner for all of about ten minutes.'
Soleil shook her head. 'That bastard. So much for having my back.'
'Let's forget about where you were, or weren't, that night.'
'Fine by me,' said the singer.
'Why did you lie to me about not having contact recently with Cassidy Towne?'
'Probably 'cause it was no big deal, didn't register.'
'Soleil, you knocked her out of her chair in the middle of a restaurant. You called her a pig and threatened to stab her in the back.'
She sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling, as if her answer could be found among the suspended rigs holding the stage lighting. 'Well,' she finally said, 'think about how she died. Why do you think I didn't want to tell you what I said to her?'
Heat had to admit there was logic to that, but she responded, 'I am trying to find a killer. Every time you lie to me, you're making yourself look more guilty and making me waste valuable time.'
'Fine, whatever.'
Heat brought out some pictures. 'Have you ever seen this man?'
Soleil examined the DMV photo of Esteban Padilla. 'Nope.'
'What about this man?' She handed her the police sketch of the Texan. 'Ever see him?'
'Nuh-uh. Looks like the Bad Santa guy.' She gave Nikki a smug smile.
'And what about him? Do you know him?' Nikki handed her a head shot of Derek Snow at his autopsy and watched the arrogance melt off her face.
'Oh, my God…' She let the picture flutter to the floor.
Heat said, 'His name was Derek. The same Derek you popped a cap on in the Dragonfly House last December. Is that the Derek you got a call from when you were with Zane Taft? I'm asking because you left the Brooklyn Diner and this man, Derek Snow, was murdered shortly after that.'
'I can't… I…' Soleil's face went ashen.
'We're talking two people connected to you who were killed that night, Soleil. You think good and hard and tell me what's going on. Was Cassidy Towne writing something about you? And I want the truth, no more lying.'
'I have nothing more to say to you.'
The crew was coming back onto the set. Soleil Gray pushed through them as she ran out. Rook said, 'Aren't you going to try to hold her?'
'For what? I can charge her with lying to a police officer? Go back in time and hit her with illegal discharge of a firearm? That's not getting me anywhere. The record company lawyers would have her out in time to sing on tonight's show. I'd rather save that card for when it would do me some good. Right now, what I want to do is keep pressure on her and let her freak.'
'All right. But if she blows that cartwheel tonight, it's on you.' They waited around in their back row seats for rehearsal to resume. In Nikki's experience, sometimes difficult people had changes of heart after she jammed them, and she wanted to give Soleil a breather to reflect and, perhaps, return in a more cooperative mode. But after they'd spent fifteen minutes in the freezing studio, the stage manager called a one-hour meal break and Soleil didn't come forward, so they left.
As they turned the corner into the hallway leading to the elevators, someone called out behind them, 'Oh, my God. Is that Nikki Heat?'
She whispered, 'I don't need this right now.'
Rook said, 'Maybe we can outrun this one.'
'Nikki?' said the man.
Hearing his voice again, she stopped walking, and Rook watched a look cross over her, the annoyance transforming into dawning surprise. Then Nikki turned and her face lit up into a radiant smile. 'Oh, my God!'
Rook twisted to look behind him at the lanky, sandy-haired guy in the V-neck and jeans approaching with his arms spread wide. Nikki ran to him, colliding with him, and they hugged. She squealed with glee and he laughed. And then they rocked each other back and forth, still hugging. Not sure what to do with himself, Rook shoved his hands in his pockets and looked on as the two pulled apart to hold each other at arm's length, beaming.
'Look at you,' said Nikki. 'With no beard.'
'You look the same,' he said. 'No, better.' Rook noticed his 'r' had a guttural sound, not a burr like he was Scottish, but definitely an accent.
Then Nikki gave him a kiss. Brief, but-as Rook made note-full on the lips. Finally, still holding him by one arm, she turned to Rook and said, 'This is Petar. My old boyfriend from college.'
'No kidding.' Rook put a hand out and they shook. 'I'm Jameson.'
'James?' he said.
'Jameson. And you're… Peter?' Rook was a man who could be proud of a cheap shot.
'No, Petar. Rhymes with 'guitar.' People make that mistake all the time.'
'I can't get over this.' Nikki gave Petar a shake with the arm she had around his waist. 'I didn't even know you were in New York.'
'Yes, I work here as one of the segment producers.'
'Petar, that's great. So you're the producer?' she asked.
He looked sheepishly around the hall. 'Shh, you'll get me fired. Not the producer, I'm a segment producer.'
Rook made himself known. 'You book the guests and do the pre-interviews.'
'Very good. Jim knows his stuff.'
Heat looked at Rook and smiled. 'Jim. Love it.'
Petar explained, 'The pre-interviews are to help Kirby know what to ask his guests. They get about six minutes with him once they hit the chair, so I talk to them before the show and give him a list of suggested topics, maybe some funny story that happened to them.'
'Sort of like being a ghost writer,' said Rook.
Petar frowned. 'Well, better than that. I do get my name in the credits. Listen, I have some time, do you
