Murder Over Cocktails: The 2nd Nikki Hunter Mystery (Nikki Hunter Mysteries) Read Free Page B

other in the same way. It was as if we became different people after taking those vows. Of course the marriage was ill fated from the start, since I had accepted Gary’s proposal only to get out of my parents’ house. I discovered that being married is not the same as being on your own, and seventeen is too young to understand commitment. At least it was for me. The divorce was final before my eighteenth birthday.
    My second husband, Hugh, was a charming Englishman who was anxious to live in the States. I had an affair with him while he was here on vacation, and impulsively agreed to marry him to ease the process of immigration. I was twenty-four at the time. INS laws have since changed, but then we were only required to live together for six months before filing for divorce, after which Hugh would be allowed to remain in the country. Even though we were only going through the motions, I noticed a shift in the relationship after the wedding. I started looking at him more like a science project and less like a human being and I started picking at his flaws. Hugh is now a successful antiques dealer in San Francisco. I hear from him occasionally, but we’re not close.
    Husband number three was Drew. Drew was a romantic, which was a new experience for me. He brought me flowers every week. Once he pulled the petals off a dozen red roses and scattered them over the sheets on our bed, then made love to me on top of the petals. They permanently stained the sheets, but I didn’t care. Drew also used to go to the gym with me. It was great having a workout buddy. His mother was a terrible bitch, so when I got cranky and critical after the wedding he took it in stride. The part that didn’t work had to do with his desire to be a father. I’d known since my teen years that motherhood was not in the cards for me. It’s something we should have discussed during our courtship, but didn’t get around to until it was too late to turn back. We divorced after four years. I’m just now regaining some of the self-esteem I lost when that chapter of my life ended. I’m happy for him and his new wife. They have triplets.
    My point is that marriage often ruins a perfectly good relationship. If everything is going well and you’re happy with each other, why risk screwing it up just so you can feel secure about the future? I’m sure there must be some good reason to get married, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what it is.

    Bill answered on the third ring. I got in the habit of counting the number of times a phone rings when I was interning with Sam Pettigrew, my old mentor. Details like that go in every report.
    “Detective Anderson.”
    “PI Hunter,” I said.
    “Hey, Nikki. What’s up?”
    “I’ve got a new case I’d like to discuss with you. Do you have time for a lunch break?”
    “No,” he said. “When and where?”
    “How about The Diving Pelican? My treat.”
    “One-thirty?”
    “Great. And, Bill, I had a wonderful time last weekend.”
    “Me too.” I could feel him smiling through the phone.
    Bill showed up at 1:45. I locked the office and we walked across the marina to the restaurant. It was late summer, sunny, and warm with a light breeze coming off the water. We ordered at the counter and went back outside to find a table.
    The Diving Pelican is the only restaurant in the marina. Bennett, who owns and runs it with his wife, is a cranky old curmudgeon who has become a friend. He always makes sure I’m well taken care of.
    “You want to hear about my case now or after we eat?” I asked Bill.
    “That depends. Are you going to ruin my appetite?”
    “Maybe a little.” I smiled.
    “Let’s get it over with then,” he said.
    “Okay. I got a call this morning from someone who says he was burglarizing a house in the Woodside Hills and happened across some videotapes. He said the tapes appear to be home movies of the owner of the house committing multiple murders.”
    I let that sink in. Bill said