by Ann Roberts
“Mol, I may have found something,” Andre announced, pointing to her infamous spreadsheet and pulling her from her misery.
She noticed it was quite crinkled and covered in coffee stains. He’d highlighted various streets and marked up the margins with his notes as he searched each address.
“Remember how I told you I wanted to concentrate on those four addresses?”
She nodded. “What are you thinking?”
He pointed at two that were conveniently located on the same page. “These are interesting. The other two are dead ends. The limited corporations that are listed actually feed into larger corporations that may be involved in some questionable activity, but I’m highly doubtful that it connects to our situation. That leaves the other two.”
He opened the spreadsheet and read his notes. “This one, Periscope Enterprises, is a front for a larger limited entity called Wayburn Incorporated. From what I can tell this is clearly a dummy front because they have absolutely no background or history. I’ve searched through a ton of websites and search engines and there’s nothing. I even came in early and did a little digging on our police sites, and I can’t find a mention. Very suspicious.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That has possibilities. It also sounds like we wouldn’t know what to do with it even if it was the right one.”
“We don’t have to know. We just go and stake out the address. If it’s related to the department I’m sure we’ll be able to make a connection.”
“You think we’ll see someone we know.”
He grinned. “Absolutely.”
A load lifted from her shoulders. They might actually figure this out. She hated dirty cops, and she felt responsible for her informant’s death. “What about the other one?”
He tapped the spreadsheet page. “This one also has promise. The listed owner is Rogue River Corporation and it’s a subsidiary of a company called Duffek Turn. No such entity is registered with the Better Business Bureau or anyone else. I even called Oregon where the actual Rogue River is located and they have no corporation on record. It’s a dummy.”
She leaned forward, her nerves tingling. “So you think that if we stake out these two houses we may see the mole.”
He shrugged. “I think it’s worth a try.”
She clapped her hands together unable to contain her excitement. “Okay, how about this weekend? Are you willing to help me out a little longer?”
“Sure, but you owe me a whole bunch of sandwiches from McGurkee’s.”
“I was thinking a steak dinner, but I’ll go with the sandwiches. They’re cheaper.”
There was a knock on the door, and Jack Adams stuck his head inside. She bit her lip, hoping she could contain her emotions. Looking at him only reminded her of Ari.
“Hey, Detective Nelson,” he said jovially. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
She waved him inside. “Not at all. Jack Adams, this is Andre Williams, my partner.”
The men shook hands as Jack surveyed the room. When his eyes met hers, he grinned.
“You’re probably wondering why I keep disturbing you and why I’ve been checking out your office.”
She shrugged. “No, actually neither of those thoughts crossed my mind.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to think I was some sort of leech. These were my digs a long time ago.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yup.”
Ari had never mentioned that fact to her, and she wondered why. Maybe it was during the period of estrangement when Jack had disowned Ari and they weren’t speaking.
“I just wanted to stop by and see how you were coming with the case. Any leads?”
He crossed his arms and she couldn’t help but notice his incredibly broad shoulders. He was a huge man, and she imagined he intimidated suspects just with his presence.
“We’re working on a few things, but it hasn’t popped yet.”
He nodded. His eyes traveled her desk and landed on the spreadsheet. “What’s that?”
She shrugged, hoping she looked nonchalant. “Nothing, really. Unrelated to the case.”
He eyed her suspiciously and said, “Well, if there’s anything this retired guy can do to help you, let me know. I’m in town until tomorrow.”
He left, and she immediately deposited the spreadsheet into her desk drawer. She wondered if he’d noticed the two addresses that Andre had circled. Her stomach flip-flopped at the realization that the Rogue River Corporation was named after a river in Oregon—Jack Adams’s adopted state. She was so focused on her thoughts that she didn’t bother to check the caller ID when her phone rang.
“Nelson.”
“I’d like to have lunch. But only if you want to.”
Ari’s quiet voice was barely audible, and Molly covered her other ear to block out the incessant noise of the precinct.
A lump formed in her throat. Her hands began to shake. “Okay.”
Ari had finished her second tumbler of iced tea by the time Molly finally appeared in the doorway of Chen’s Chinese Kitchen, nearly thirty minutes late. She looked hung over, and her suit was wrinkled. Probably the one she wore yesterday. That wasn’t a good sign.
Her gaze fell on Ari, offering a weak smile as she approached.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, squeezing her large frame into the booth. “We’ve had a lot going on, and I couldn’t get away until David Ruskin had his pound of flesh.”
“Some things never change,” Ari said.
They glanced at each other and both started to speak at the same time. They abruptly stopped and looked away. The waitress came by and Ari wasn’t surprised when Molly ordered a scotch. She kept her gaze downward, certain that if she looked at her, Molly would see reproof in her eyes, and another fight would begin.
After the waitress took their lunch order and disappeared, she cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Biz. I guess I just wanted to avoid the confrontation. I knew you’d be upset.”
Molly bit her lip. Ari could tell she was trying to word her next statement carefully. “I just don’t understand why you took her on as a client. Couldn’t she have gone to Jane or Lorraine?”
“I suppose. But she trusts me the most.”
Molly snorted. “Of course.”
She stared at her. “Please don’t go there. You trust me, don’t you?”
Molly nodded, her eyes focused on the linen tablecloth. “I trust you, but I don’t trust Biz. I’ve known her for a lot longer, and she isn’t what she seems. She’s not forthright—especially when it comes to women. She wants what she wants, and she’ll do whatever she can to get it. She’s got a mean streak, too.”
Ari shook her head unable to fathom a dark side to Biz. Of course she knew Biz was a womanizer, and she wondered how a private investigator could have enough money to buy such expensive property but Biz seemed quite genuine.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, honey. Believe me, okay? I love you, and I know how hard it is for you to say it. I know how hard it is for you to commit.”
Molly shrugged, clearly unwilling to lie. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Her drink appeared, and she drained the glass quickly, motioning to the departing waitress for another. Ari looked away, biting her tongue. She waited, hoping that Molly would apologize for her part of the fight, for shoving Ari and for whatever had transpired last night that forced her to wear a rumpled suit to work. Now would be the perfect time since she’d coated her emotions with a little alcohol, and there was nothing else to occupy their time. The food hadn’t arrived and they were just sitting, listening to the humming restaurant.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
Molly whipped her head toward Ari, whose eyes studied the rumpled suit. It was like receiving a telegram. Molly was a detective. She must realize that Ari knew what had happened. And she needed to say something, but she only offered a “thank you,” when the
waitress returned with her second drink.
Ari realized lunch was a mistake, but now she was stuck for the duration. Fortunately Chen’s was known for their quick service. She could be back in her office in another forty minutes. Just talk about work.
“I heard your case might be gang related. Is that true?”
Molly sipped her drink. It was obvious to Ari she debated how much she should share. “We’re not sure. It looks as though a hit man might have been hired, but we don’t know why. It’s so senseless. Who could kill a child?” she added in frustration.
She swirled her drink, and Ari knew the case was eating her up. She longed to reach across the table and take her hand or touch her arm, but she could still feel Molly’s shove. A chill ran down her back just thinking about it.
“It’s terrible,” she simply said.
Molly nodded, her gaze never leaving the scotch. “Children are so innocent. Only a really sick person can kill a child. Even in prison there’s a code against child molesters and killers. Most hardened criminals still have a soft spot for kids.” She suddenly stopped talking and took a deep breath. “I would have preferred the Edgington case, frankly.”
At the mention of Warren Edgington, Ari shifted in her seat. There was no way she could share anything with Molly right now as it would lead to a discussion of Biz, a woman whose kiss still lingered on her lips. After they’d fled the shop, Biz had laughed and teased her all the way back to her office, claiming she’d tongued her. Ari protested and soon was laughing herself. She compared sitting in Biz’s Mustang with sitting in the booth waiting for lunch and found herself hoping Molly got an emergency call or text as she sometimes did.
She decided to make one more effort as the food arrived. “I told my dad that I was seeing someone in the department.”
Molly raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow before he leaves. Would that work?”
Molly expertly wielded her chopsticks through her chicken chow mien. “I’ll have to see,” she said. “Maybe.”
“Let me know,” she said quietly, pushing back the tears she knew could come so easily.
They ate in silence. Ari realized they’d never had a meal like this, not even their first date, when Molly had been terrified the whole evening. Yet it had still ended magnificently. She wondered if this wasn’t a different kind of ending.
Her gaze wandered to the bar area and the TV perched above the patrons. Desperate for small talk she pointed to the screen when Laurel Jeffries came on.
“That’s the woman Jane’s dating right now.”
Molly looked at her, surprised. “You’re kidding. Really?”
She nodded. “She sold her a house and apparently much more.”
Usually conversation about Jane would cause them to laugh, but Molly surprised her by saying, “I know her mother. She’s my witness.”
“What?”
She’d heard much of Laurel’s biography during the past few weeks at Tuesday coffee and it didn’t include a mother. Laurel had been raised by her father back East and then relatives after he died.
“She doesn’t have a mother. Laurel said she’s dead,” Ari added.
Molly shook her head. “She isn’t dead. She probably should get the award for worst parent. She abandoned her, at least that’s what she says.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. She could barely talk about it, and the info could be all wrong. The woman has Alzheimer’s and getting anything out of her has been a guessing game. She said Laurel Jeffries was her daughter.”
“But you said she had Alzheimer’s. Maybe she’s just saying that because she sees her on TV.”
“Possibly. But I know her name is Millicent Jeffries. Found it on a pill bottle in her possessions.”
“Wow, that’s really amazing,” she said, forgetting her own problems for a moment.
She couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to have her mother abandon her. How horrible it must’ve been for Laurel. Lucia had been a wonderful mother until the end.
Lost in her own thoughts of her mother, she didn’t notice Molly checking her messages. When she looked up, Molly was standing, draining her scotch and tossing some bills on the table.
“I need to go,” she said.
“I really—”
“Look, Ari, I’m not sure where we are. I’ll call you later.”
She stared into the crystal blue eyes she loved, remembering that someone else had met Molly’s gaze the night before and shared her bed. She saw the pain that Molly was desperately trying to mask with alcohol, and she knew she’d caused it by spending time with Biz.
“Are you okay to drive?” she asked automatically, avoiding the question and shoving the pain away.
Molly’s face softened. She nodded before she walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Molly faced the sea of Valentine’s Day cards in the Hallmark store while she worked to quell the panic that gripped her. Hundreds of hearts and stuffed animals mocked her all proclaiming the one sentiment that Ari longed to hear every day—I love you. And she’d learned to say it frequently. She’d even practiced saying it in front of the mirror to ensure her facial expressions and body language were believable.
After their horrible lunch she’d spent the afternoon thinking of Ari, her mistake with Lola and a way to make it right. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day—a perfect opportunity—but she was lost.
The store was filled with people like her who had procrastinated for the past month and now faced their lover’s wrath if they missed the big day. She automatically flipped open her phone and hit her brother’s speed dial number. If anyone knew anything about romance it was Brian.
“I guess Lynn owes me a foot massage,” he said in place of a greeting. Lynn was Brian’s long-time girlfriend.
“Why?”
“Because I bet her that you would call me before Valentine’s Day, asking for my advice.”
“She gives me way too much credit,” she said. “I guess I should thank you for keeping my phobias and anxieties a secret.”
“You’re welcome. Now, where are you? Jewelry or card store?”
She groaned. “Card store. It’s like the Good Ship Lollypop exploded everywhere. I can’t deal with all this sugary sweet sentiment.”
Brian laughed heartily. “Get used to it, sis. That’s what women like, at least every woman except you.”
“I’ll never understand.”
“Well, either date another butch or learn.”
She sighed. “Okay, love guru, tell me what to do.”
“It’s simple. Find a romantic card with a nice message. Don’t get one that goes on forever and whatever you do, don’t get a funny card. At this stage in your relationship Ari would probably doubt your sincerity if a ridiculous cartoon character recited a trite limerick to her.”
“What about a gift?”
“You’ll need to go somewhere else. Stuffed bears and chocolates are for amateurs. You bought her a necklace for her birthday so a bracelet would be a good choice for Valentine’s Day.”
“Like in the shape of the heart?”
He chuckled, obviously pleased. “You’re catching on, grasshopper. Gotta go claim my foot rub,” he added before signing off.
She scanned the sparse rows of picked over cards. She spied one that met her brother’s specifications. Just as she reached for it, an oblivious twiggy woman chatting on her cell phone plucked it from the stand and walked away.
She resisted the urge to shoot her and continued to search. They all seemed redundant in words and tone, and she couldn’t decide. She grabbed a linen card with gold script and suddenly felt as though she was being watched. She whirled around, and a flash of blue stepped into another aisle.
Someone’s following me. The card still in her hand, she maneuvered into the next aisle but the blue jacket was gone. She paid for the card and headed back into the mall and a Macy’s. All she want
ed was a scotch—her motivation for quick decisiveness as she purchased a simple gold bracelet in record time.
“Done,” she said to herself, climbing back into her truck. As she drove toward the mall exit she glanced in her rearview mirror just as a figure in a blue jacket and baseball cap darted into the parking lot.
Wertz pulled the Ford roadster up to the immense wrought iron gate that lined the Glick property. He pressed the intercom as Ari listened to the whir of the closed circuit television camera turn toward the car. The lens stared at them for several seconds before the gate slowly rolled open. The old car rumbled up the side of the hill, following a gravel path through the dense foliage around the property. The road ended in front of a four-car garage that sat underneath a house supported by strong metal stilts holding it in the air for a better view of the valley.
She’d debated canceling the appointment, firing her client and sharing her suspicions with Lorraine. She’d thought about involving Molly, but purchasing a flask meant he was guilty of nothing except perhaps private drinking. He didn’t notice her uneasiness, his mind focused on acquiring the Glick house.
She gazed up at the structure, an intricate balance of steel and wood that seemed to blend naturally into the mountain. They stepped onto a long porch and she realized she was dangling over a ravine that separated the house from the main entryway. Glass windows afforded them a view into an amazing living area. She couldn’t wait to see the inside of the house. They were greeted by Jacob Glick himself when they rang the bell.
“Good evening,” he said. “Please come in.”
He led them into the living room, and she heard the gentle sound of rain. She looked over her shoulder and saw the source—sparkling blue water poured in from beneath a glass wall and cascaded down several steps before emptying into a pond filled with exotic fish. The entire scene was serene. Glick motioned to the couch. Ari deliberately chose a chair where she could study the falling water.
“Now, please explain to me the purpose of your visit.”
She looked at Wertz, expecting him to take the lead, but he raised his eyebrows at her. She was the real estate agent, and if she wanted a commission, she’d have to do the dirty work.
