by Ann Roberts
“Great. Tell Jane I said hello. Tell her that I approve of her latest girlfriend. That woman is hot.”
Ari frowned. “And where did you meet this person?”
“At Hideaway. We literally ran into each other in the back room. Neither of us was paying attention to where we were going. We were, both, uh, concentrating on other things.”
She closed her eyes. “That’s way too much information,” she said, annoyed. “Why don’t I come by your office in the morning with the paperwork?”
“Huh. My keen detective abilities sense a bit of jealousy. Are you jealous, Ari?”
The humor in Biz’s voice was evident, but Ari didn’t want to play along. “Hardly.”
“I’ve upset you,” Biz correctly concluded. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry for bringing up my sexual exploits, and if my flirting bothers you then I’m sorry twice.” She sighed heavily over the phone. “It’s just that I can’t help it. I want you to be jealous and I want to flirt with you.”
“You can’t, Biz.”
Another heavy sigh. “I know. The last thing I want to do is piss off Molly especially when she’s in the middle of a gang shooting.”
“What are you talking about? Is Maria Perez’s murder gang related? That hasn’t been reported.”
“They only mentioned it in today’s paper briefly but they’ve kept it quiet. My sources in the department are telling me that she was the brother of a gang lord, and it’s a possible angle.”
Her mind swirled with concern over Molly’s safety. Gang members had no respect for the police. When she’d attended the police academy, she’d worked with the gang unit for a short time, learning the procedures and potential dangers of investigating gang shootings.
“Ari, are you still there?”
“I’m sorry, Biz. You’ve just surprised me. I didn’t know. Look, I’ll come to your office in the morning, and we’ll take care of this paperwork. You’ll have your loft by noon, okay?”
“Great. Again, I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you somehow?”
A thought came to her. “Actually how hard would it be for you to do a background check for me on Warren Edgington?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been hired by Edgington’s wife, Christina. She doesn’t believe he killed himself. She thinks he was murdered.”
Ari headed up Rural Road to Jane’s condo pondering Edgington’s death and the fight he’d had with Stan Wertz right before he died. There was something fishy about her client, and her gut told her that he had something to do with Edgington’s death.
She debated whether or not to call Molly, but she realized she had no concrete proof and more than likely her suspicion was baseless, grounded only in her supreme dislike for her client. And she imagined it would be another day at least before Molly would speak to her again. She could call Biz back, but there was something about her that made her nervous. She didn’t know why every time she thought of the P.I., her hands started to sweat.
No, the person to talk to was Jane.
A silver Benz sat in Jane’s driveway and she wondered if Jane had traded in her Porsche. When Jane didn’t answer the doorbell, she called on her cell. Just as she was about to hang up Jane threw open the front door, her phone pressed against her ear.
“What?” she barked.
She noticed Jane wore only a slinky silk robe that barely covered the tops of her thighs. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t know you were busy.”
“I’m entertaining,” Jane whispered into the phone.
Ari giggled. “Why are we still talking on the phone when we’re standing in front of each other?”
Jane flipped her phone closed and dropped it into the pocket of the robe. “You’re early.”
Ari checked her watch. “Only by ten minutes.”
Jane sighed. “Ten minutes can make all the difference.”
“Am I interrupting?” she asked.
“No, I was being facetious. That’s my word of the day,” Jane said with a grin. “Besides, we’ve already done it five times, and Laurel has to get to work.”
Her eyes widened at Jane’s announcement. “I’m shocked.”
“What?” Jane responded. “Five’s my average. It’s no big deal.”
“No, but screwing your client is.” She immediately thought of Wertz propositioning her. “I thought you didn’t like Laurel Jeffries.”
Jane’s blood red fingernails traced the neckline of her robe. “We’ve had a meeting of the minds. I found her the cutest little bungalow in the Willow area, and she was so overjoyed that she gave me a choice—a day at the spa or her. Guess what I picked?” A wicked smile crossed Jane’s face as her eyes glanced up the staircase.
Ari turned to see Laurel descend, dressed in a gray suit, the smile of a news anchor plastered on her face. After a quick wink in Ari’s direction, she went to Jane for a passionate kiss, her right hand slipping under the sheer fabric and roughly groping Jane’s breast.
“Will I see you later tonight?” Laurel murmured into her mouth.
“Absolutely,” Jane said before their tongues collided again.
Ari excused herself into Jane’s kitchen, rather sure that there would be at least one more coupling in the foyer before Laurel left. She poured herself a glass of wine and picked up the newspaper, noticing that the Maria Perez murder was the headline of the local section. She instantly thought of Molly and the pressure she must be under. She buried herself in the article, trying to block out the moans emanating from the living room. Laurel would definitely be late.
The front door slammed shut, and Jane appeared in the kitchen, her face flushed and her cheeks rosy. “That was a wonderful way to end the afternoon,” she proclaimed.
Ari set the newspaper down and stared at her friend. “I thought you’d made a few new rules, one being a clear division between clients and lovers?”
Jane shrugged her shoulders and made herself a vodka and tonic. “The line was clearly divided. We didn’t go to bed until after I got her a house. Now, that’s not to say that there wasn’t some heavy petting and nudity in her new kitchen.”
She shook her head in amazement. “Are you serious about Laurel?”
Jane delicately brought the patterned glass to her lips and sipped her drink. She set it down carefully before responding. “Honey, the word serious is right up there with commitment and relationship. We both know those are not words in my vocabulary, and thankfully Laurel has the same set of beliefs as I do.” She looked up and beamed. “We are perfect for each other, aren’t we?” Ari laughed and Jane squeezed her hand. “Enough about me for a while. Didn’t you say you needed my help?”
“I do. But you’re probably not going to like it. We could get into some trouble.”
Her eyes twinkled, and she arched her eyebrows. “Really? Does it involve danger?”
“I doubt it. But it does involve a woman in an incredibly sexy pink bra.”
Jane jumped off her stool and charged back up the stairs. She rejoined her in three minutes dressed in a tight pantsuit with very low cleavage.
“Let’s go. I’ll do most anything for a woman in a pink bra.”
Ari worked her way downtown, driving against the rush hour traffic. She’d called his office, confirming with the very polite receptionist that Mr. Wertz was indeed gone for the day, but Candy was still available and could certainly help Ms. Adams with her missing files. She recounted her suspicions about Wertz to Jane, including her encounter with him at the preview house.
“He really asked you to unbutton your blouse?” Jane asked in disbelief.
“Yes. He’s really slimy, but he’s worth a lot of money.”
Jane buffed her French nails and checked the shine. “Then he’s worth it. Period. You’ll deal with it unless he’s a killer,” she quickly added. “In that case, I’d ask for a double commission.”
“Jane!”
Ari pulled into the parking garage for the second
time that day. They strolled through the cavernous lobby, all of the business people cruising home except for Candy, who she suspected was a workaholic and devoted to her boss.
“You know what to do, right?” she asked as they boarded the elevator.
Jane sighed. “Ari, honey, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Take your time. I’ve got it covered. You’re dealing with a professional.”
She followed Jane down the long corridor to Candy’s desk, well aware that her swinging hips were sure to gain the attention of the secretary with the pink bra. When they reached the outer lobby, Candy was engrossed in her typing and unaware of their initial approach until Jane’s perfume wafted through the air. She turned to find her leaning over her desk, exposing most of her cleavage.
“Hi, I’m Jane, Ari’s friend. You remember Ari, don’t you?” Jane motioned to her and she smiled.
“Of course. Hello, Ari. Hello, Jane.” She stared at Jane, whose breasts sprawled over much of her desk demanding attention. She leaned forward as Jane whispered to her. She giggled in response, and Ari knew it was time to make her move.
“If it’s all right with you, Candy, I’m just going to slip into Stan’s office and get those files. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” Candy replied with a laugh. Jane smiled and let her index finger trail down the side of Candy’s cheek.
Ari disappeared into the office and went straight to the model. Her eyes focused on the intersection and the chosen location—the corner with the L-shaped strip mall. She studied the mini-version of Wertz’s dream carefully. It was a typical big box type store, one that would never have a secondary use if the Hometown City Center failed. A spec list sat next to the model, listing the square footage, amenities and projected date of completion—Christmas. She shook her head unable to believe that in less than ten months the entire corner would be transformed.
How could that be? The tenants didn’t even know they were losing their shops. There was something illegal about his deal. She grabbed her cell phone and snapped a few pictures of the model and the spec sheet.
She went to his desk and computer. His screensaver flashed neon colors and the Hometown logo. As she suspected he relied entirely on Candy, not even bothering to shut down his computer or lock his desk. She rifled through his drawers, not knowing what to look for and finding nothing but standard office supply items—and a vibrator. She was sure she knew who played with Stan and his little toy. She tapped on the mouse and the screen filled with his desktop icons, none of which looked suspicious. She clicked on his document folder and was told to enter a password. His E-mail was also protected and she didn’t have time to try to figure it out.
She clicked on his personal calendar and scrolled backward looking for anything that suggested a connection to Warren Edgington. She hoped for a specific reference such as Meet Warren and kill him, but there were no entries that mentioned him or the Hometown City Center property. A thud reverberated under her feet and she froze. She looked at the door, expecting Candy to burst into the room, but no one entered. Everything else in the office was in place except for a strange modern print that hung slightly askew as if someone had moved it recently. She pulled the painting from the wall to discover a safe. She halfheartedly flipped the metal handle certain that the lock was engaged. Her hunch was correct and the door didn’t budge.
She quickly replaced the painting and opened the office door slowly. Jane and Candy had disappeared but she found the source of the thud—a large crystal paperweight lay on its side in front of Candy’s desk making a deep impression in the plush carpet. She searched through the files and stacks of correspondence next to her computer and the pile of papers in her inbox. It seemed Wertz participated in every decision and micromanaged each of his stores.
She quickly scanned the desktop amongst the knickknacks and personal photos. A few memos with sticky notes awaited her attention, but they contained typical information about meat sales and freezers. There was no way to tell what was important.
Candy’s screensaver materialized—a picture of a convertible BMW. And how could she afford that? Perhaps it was just a dream or maybe a Beemer was Wertz’s way of buying her silence.
She checked Candy’s calendar which was incredibly organized. Her handwriting was impeccable and she annotated many of the entries with sticky notes, receipts or follow-up phone messages. Ari cracked a grin. She and Candy could be great friends.
She flipped back to Monday and her heart stopped. Candy had crossed out all of Monday afternoon and written Dr. Murris. There were no other notes, but she’d obviously expected to be gone for several hours—and wouldn’t know whether Stan had returned to the office at one o’clock as he’d told the police.
She flipped back a few more days, the sticky notes fluttering with each turn of the page. She’d reviewed nearly two weeks when a name on a receipt caught her eye, Drachman’s Fine Smokes. The notes indicated Candy had left early one afternoon and gone to the Smoke Shop to make a purchase. The receipt only listed a number and the price, thirty-five dollars.
She threw open the lid of Candy’s desktop copier and stuck the receipt on the glass. She heard laughter—Jane’s cue. Once the machine had spit out a copy of the receipt, Ari flipped Candy’s book to February first and copied the evidence that proved her absence.
Jane’s shrill laughter exploded into the room, and Ari heard a door open behind her. She quickly returned Candy’s book to her desk, grabbed an empty file folder and dropped onto the couch. She hoped she didn’t look totally out of breath as she stood to greet a smiling Candy and Jane, whose tongue was fastened to her earlobe.
“Now, baby, c’mon,” Candy coaxed. “Not in front of Ari. Did you find your folders?” Candy asked.
“Oh, yes. Thanks.”
Candy nodded and returned to her desk, her hand caressing Jane’s buttocks as she swept by.
“Thanks again, Candy. We need to go, Jane.”
Ari reached the elevators and waited for the car to arrive. When the doors slid open, Jane still had not appeared. She held the door for almost a minute before Jane marched down the hallway, Candy watching her departure from her desk.
“I hope you got what you needed,” Jane said. “That woman was an animal.”
“I’m sorry it was so painful,” she cracked. She pulled the copies from her pocket and showed them to her.
“So maybe Candy killed her lover,” Jane said. “Wertz thinks she’s at the doctor’s and she’s really over in the garage using the flask she bought. Or she lied for her boss and he did it.”
“Or nobody did it and he really committed suicide,” Ari said with a sigh. She watched the blinking red numbers count down to the ground floor. “It’s probably nothing. I’m sorry I dragged you down here for nothing.”
“Nothing?” Jane snorted. “I had a much better time than you did.”
“I take it you saw the pink bra?”
In one quick gesture she pulled the bra from her purse, and waved it under her nose.
Chapter Nineteen
Molly was sure it was over. Ari had called repeatedly but never left a message. She remembered the look on her face during her drunken rage that morning. It was fear. She’d never let the box of jealousy fly open in Ari’s presence. She kept everything buried and only revealed what she wanted Ari to see—until now.
“Here,” Vicky said, dropping a scotch in front of her.
She shook her head. She wasn’t going to get stopped again. “No, I’m done. Bring me some coffee.”
“You sure you want to turn down a free drink from a beautiful lady?”
Vicky motioned to an attractive blonde on the other side of the bar. Their eyes met and the blonde held up her shooter in salute and downed it, thrusting her significant cleavage out in the process. She slapped the shot glass down on the bar and smiled at her.
She smiled and sipped her drink. One more wouldn’t hurt.
The blonde left her stool and dropped next to her. “You look li
ke you could use a little something.”
“Thanks for the drink. That was nice of you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and Molly could hear the thickness of her speech. “I’m on my last one. I’ve had a hell of a week, but after I finish this I’m going home.”
Molly pointed at the empty shot glass in front of her. “I guess you’ve already finished.”
The blonde eyed the shooter and laughed heartily. Her breath stank of tequila and Molly imagined she was way over the legal limit. There was no way she could drive.
“How are you getting home?” Molly asked.
A depraved smile crept across her face. “Are you tryin’ to pick me up?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve got a girlfriend. I just don’t think you should drive. Is there someone you could call?”
The woman shook her finger as if to make a point. “Now see, that’s the problem. I just broke up with the one person I could call. Isn’t that always how it goes? You break up and find yourself in a bar and the person you’d call is the reason you’re there in the first place.”
Molly chuckled. She was right. The woman was a natural beauty and her impulses stirred. She couldn’t help it. She bit her lip to remind herself that she was faithful to Ari. They sat in silence, stealing glances at each other.
“What’s your name?” Molly finally asked.
“Lola,” the woman replied, grinning in a way that told Molly she was lying. “And you’re Molly, the cop.”
“How’d you know?”
“I asked.” She nodded at Vicky. “And I’d like you to drive me home,” she added, in a suggestive tone.
So there it was, an opportunity. She could pour out her frustrations with a stranger and fill the void in her heart that Ari created. Lola’s long fingernails trailed down her thigh intensifying the heat between her legs.
“I couldn’t drive you home right now,” she croaked, practically unintelligibly. “I’m not sober myself.”
Lola’s cool expression read between the lines. “And what sort of citizen would I be if I didn’t help a member of the law enforcement community?”
