He was losing her. Somehow he had to reach her, to make a connection. Get her to talk to him, to open up. In desperation, he leaned in and kissed her, passionately, on the lips.
Nikki didn’t resist. But neither did she respond, not really. It was as if someone had hit her ‘off’’ switch. As if her entire emotional, inner world had shut down, short-circuited. As if Derek Williams’ death had been one trauma too many.
At last, Goodman pulled away. ‘A name?’ he asked again, softly.
‘Luis Rodriguez.’ Nikki sighed. ‘Anne Bateman’s ex-husband. Derek Williams believed he might be involved, in the murders and in this “ring”. He thought the Badens might be connected too, but Rodriguez was his big obsession. Those are the only names I have.’
Goodman frowned. ‘Luis Rodriguez is a developer and a philanthropist. He probably gives more money to anti-drug charities than anyone else in Mexico.’
‘I know,’ said Nikki.
‘Gives to the police too,’ said Goodman. ‘Why on earth would Williams think he’s involved?’
Nikki sighed again. ‘Derek was convinced he ran a massive illegal drug operation. He said the LAPD and FBI knew all about it but turned a blind eye.’
‘That’s baloney,’ Goodman retorted angrily. Then he reminded himself that Derek Williams was dead, and it no longer made sense to pick a fight with him. ‘And the Badens?’
‘I don’t know.’ Nikki rubbed her eyes. ‘I know he thought Valentina’s charity was some sort of front for illegal activity. And that maybe Willie was helping Rodriguez in other ways here in LA. But, like I said, it was Rodriguez he really cared about.
‘He said he had new information and he was going to tell me more tonight,’ said Nikki. ‘Something to do with Rodriguez and the Russians and this new drug Krokodil and corruption. According to Williams, City Hall was involved, and some investment banks. Even charities, like the Badens’ Missing. Oh, and the cops,’ she added. ‘Corrupt cops. From the drug squad.’
‘But he never told you any names?’
‘He never got the chance, did he?’ Nikki observed bitterly. ‘I can think of some corrupt guys in your drug squad, if you’re interested. Or ex-drug squad. One person in particular springs to mind.’
Mick Johnson’s name hung unspoken in the air between them.
‘OK.’ Goodman leaned back on his chair. Apparently satisfied for now, he signaled to the barman and signed the tab for both of them. ‘Was there anything else? Anything at all you can remember that might help us figure out who killed Derek Williams and why?’
Nikki contemplated telling him about the phone call she’d received earlier from Brandon Grolsch. She’d been going to tell Williams, but now Williams was gone. Somebody should know, surely? Somebody should be investigating it, trying to find Brandon, to help him. Why not Goodman? Goodman who flirted with her and rescued her and shouted at her and kissed her. Goodman who she could have loved, in another life.
But something held her back.
Derek Williams had never trusted Goodman. And Nikki had trusted Derek Williams. He’d been the only one left she did trust completely. And now he was gone too.
‘No. There’s nothing,’ she told Goodman.
Reaching down, he picked up her overnight bag.
‘I’m taking you home,’ he said firmly.
‘I can’t go home,’ she protested. ‘It’s not safe.’
‘Not your home,’ said Goodman. ‘Mine.’
Their eyes met, and for a brief moment Nikki allowed herself to imagine what her life might be like if she let this happen. If she let Lou Goodman step in and take care of her, take over. Let him make the decisions, keep her safe, slay the dragons and banish the demons.
It was a lovely idea. Like most fairy tales.
But it wasn’t to be.
It was far too late for all that.
‘You’re very sweet,’ she said, kissing him on the lips, with feeling this time. ‘But I can’t.’ Gently but firmly she prized her bag from his grip.
‘Why not?’ he asked, his fingers still touching hers.
‘Because a long time ago, I gave my heart to my husband,’ said Nikki. ‘And he broke it. I’m sorry, Lou. There’s nothing left to give.’