by Ann Roberts
“Yes.”
“And how many times have you thought about her today?”
Molly opened her mouth and closed it. Brian was baiting her, but there was no point in lying to him. Even over the phone, she was totally transparent. No one else in her life knew her this well. That fact frustrated her and comforted her all at the same time.
“Call her,” he said before he hung up.
She snapped the phone closed but didn’t drop it back in her pocket. The Michael Thorndike file lay open on her desk, Ari’s phone number conveniently handy. All Molly had to do was flip a few pages and press a few buttons on the phone. How hard was that? She’d just mustered her courage when she remembered their conversation that afternoon. It hadn’t gone well. Molly had clearly crossed a line, and she suspected it had something to do with Ari’s father. She’d hurt the woman, a fact that brought her more pain than the heartburn. She definitely wanted to apologize.
The phone was already ringing before Molly engaged her brain again. The voice that answered was soft and melodic.
“Hello, Ms. Adams. It’s Molly Nelson.” She bit her lip and held her breath. There was a long pause, which Ari obviously didn’t feel obligated to fill. Molly gave a halfhearted laugh. “Well, at least you haven’t hung up on me.”
“Is there something I can do for you, detective?” The softness and melody were gone.
“I just wanted to say how sorry I was, you know, for saying what I did this afternoon, and bringing up your father. That was really out of line—” Molly closed her mouth to prevent further babbling. When Ari said nothing, Molly continued. “It’s just this case . . .” She trailed off. “It’s a career buster.”
“And you’re worried I’ll screw it up,” Ari said, completing her thought.
The detective swallowed hard. “Well, Ms. Adams, frankly, yes, I am.”
“Why don’t you call me Ari?”
“Okay,” Molly replied, relief sweeping through her. “Did you learn anything from your visit?”
“Not really,” Molly sighed, almost grateful that someone was interested. Bouncing ideas off Andre was like hitting a wall of cotton. He just wasn’t good at it. “I did determine that at least two of the partners are slimier than Thorndike. I’m surprised he was the one who was killed.” Molly shifted her large frame in the chair. She’d been sitting in it for three hours reading reports and statements. Her ass was killing her. “What about you? Any luck?”
“Possibly.”
“I thought you were shopping?” Molly teased.
Ari laughed and Molly joined her. “Okay, you caught me,” she admitted.
“Well, tell me!” Molly exclaimed. “Solve this case for me, and I’ll be yours for life.” She sucked in her breath, amazed that the words had come from her mouth. She reached out to grab them, but they’d already sailed over the phone line.
“That’s quite a proposition.”
Molly nearly dropped the phone. Was Ari flirting with her? “Uh, well . . .”
“Don’t worry, detective, I won’t hold you to that.” Ari relayed her suspicion about the pictures. “Hopefully, whatever it means will come to me. I know it’s important.”
Molly frowned, partly out of pride that she might have missed a clue, and partly at Ari’s involvement. “You have to promise me something, Ari. If Bob Watson contacts you, promise me that you’ll call.”
“I haven’t heard from him,” she insisted adamantly.
“Just promise me. We’ve tailed Lily for the past two days and gotten zilch. The captain’s calling off the detectives assigned to her. I’m convinced she doesn’t know where he is, but somebody must. He has to have help. His picture is all over the news. Somebody would have seen him by now.” Molly ran a hand through her curls and leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure he’s called a friend. If he calls you—”
“I’ll call you,” Ari interjected. “I promise. Is there anything else, detective?”
Molly searched for a reason, any reason, to keep Ari on the line. She just loved the sound of her voice—so comforting and calm. After listening to men bark and belch and make other disgusting sounds all day, Ari’s chuckle was welcomed. Unable to think of any pressing matter to discuss, she simply said, “Uh, no. I hope I didn’t call too late. If I did, I’m sorry again.”
“It’s okay. I was just outside on my balcony.”
Molly pictured Ari staring out into the city lights. “Sounds nice. I’m just finishing up work.”
Ari took an audible breath. “If you’re not too tired, why don’t you join me? I could make us some tea and put on some jazz.”
The offer hung in the air for a few brief seconds. Molly couldn’t help but balk initially. It was her nature. “I’m not very presentable, and to be quite honest, I probably could use a shower.”
Ari chuckled again. “I’ll take my chances.” Another awkward pause passed before she added, “I’d really like to see you.”
Molly heard herself accept the invitation, perhaps a little too quickly, and was out the door with Ari’s directions before she could change her mind.
Soft jazz seeped into the hallway and Molly hesitated. Why was she here? Absolutely exhausted, caught in the middle of an investigation, she should have been at home in her bed, yet here she was about to knock on a woman’s door for some sort of pseudo-date at nine o’clock at night. The music reached a crescendo, nudging Molly forward.
At the sight of Ari, Molly knew she’d made the right decision. The business clothes had been shed in favor of shorts and a T- shirt, and Ari’s long black hair fell freely over her shoulders and rested against her breasts.
“Come on in,” Ari said, motioning to the couch as she headed back to the kitchen for the tea. Molly planted herself in the middle of the room and stared at the beautiful figure moving around the kitchen, reaching for cups, pulling her hair to one side and when she bent over . . .
Very uncomfortable and nervous, Molly tore her gaze away and studied the living room as if it were a crime scene.
The condo was immaculate, interior design touches everywhere. What struck Molly the most was the sense of order.
Books were lined up on the shelves, tallest to shortest, the pillows situated on her sofa were perfectly positioned, and her CDs were organized by genre.
Famous prints adorned the walls, most notably Van Gogh’s “Lilies.” Molly wandered to the bookcase and squinted at the collection of framed snapshots. She instantly recognized one of Bob and Lily Watson, Ari smiling between them.
Next to it, a shiny silver frame caught her eye. Jack Adams with his arms around a beaming Ari in her Class C uniform, the day she graduated from the police academy. She studied the photo, comprehending the significance. Ari was a former cop. It explained her curiosity at the crime scene and possibly her relationship with her father. Ari wasn’t a police officer now, so what did dad think of his daughter leaving the force?
“Surprised?” Ari asked, venturing from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. Molly nodded without comment. Tonight wasn’t the time for family history.
Carrying both mugs, Ari led Molly outside. The detective admired the view and slowly took in the balcony’s furnishings. The patio was as much a room in the house as any other. Rugs covered the cement, plants hung from the ceiling, and a small clay firepot sat in the corner.
“For those cold winter nights?” Molly joked.
“When I’m feeling especially rebellious toward my landlord, I burn a scented log.”
They settled on the chaise lounges and sipped the tea. Complemented by a cinnamon stick and a sprig of mint, it tasted heavenly. The tea soothed her nerves or maybe it was the jazz humming softly in the background. She closed her eyes, and for the first time in days, felt her muscles relax. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ari asked.
“I’m under an enormous amount of pressure with this case, and both the gun and the prime suspect are missing,” Molly said, holding up a hand immedi
ately, to stave off any apology from Ari. “I’m not trying to blame you for Watson’s disappearance.”
“I know you’re not. Actually, I’m totally floored by Bob’s behavior. Even I’m wondering about his innocence,” Ari said softly. “At least, a little.”
“That’s ironic,” Molly commented, sipping the tea. “I’m beginning to have some doubts of my own.”
Ari’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean you believe me?”
Molly shook her head. “I’m not sure what to believe. His name’s on the wall, he doesn’t have a good alibi, and he had multiple reasons to hate Thorndike, including an affair with his wife and a nearly destroyed business opportunity.”
“But something’s bothering you still,” Ari concluded.
Molly nodded. “It’s too easy. That usually doesn’t happen with a smart killer, someone who doesn’t leave prints and dumps the gun. I’m finding it a little hard to believe that he would leave Thorndike alive, at least long enough to write a dying declaration.” She looked at Ari and pursed her lips, unable to admit out loud that she wondered if Bob had been set up.
“God, I hope that’s true. I mean, I know running off made him look guilty, but I know Bob. I just can’t believe he’s capable of murder.”
Molly heard the sincerity in her voice. “You’re a loyal friend, aren’t you?”
Tears welled in Ari’s eyes. She looked into her mug and swirled the cinnamon stick, trying hard not to lose it. “Since high school. We dated briefly, but then we were just friends.”
From the way Ari so succinctly explained their relationship, Molly knew there was much more. Jealousy swept over her. “Extremely close friends,” she concluded.
“Yes, but just friends,” Ari answered, sensing she needed to explain further. “Bob and I were never lovers. Our love is different.”
“Because you owe him?” Molly asked, thinking back to the last thing Ari had said that afternoon: Have you ever owed a debt you never thought you could repay?
“Maybe,” Ari said slowly, “this is my chance to pay him back.” Ari hoped Molly realized the full implications of her sentence. She wouldn’t back down, and she wouldn’t stay out of the investigation, short of being arrested.
“Please be careful,” Molly said.
Touched by the sentiment, Ari gently rested her hand over Molly’s. When she made no effort to remove it, the detective’s eyes widened at the sight.
“Is this all right?” Ari asked, smiling shyly. “You look a little shocked.”
Her eyes still frozen to the spot, Molly answered, “I didn’t think you held hands with women.”
Ari smiled. “Well, I enjoy it, but it’s been a while.” She stroked Molly’s large hands and long fingers. For a fleeting moment, she imagined them deep inside her.
Molly sat there, too petrified to return the gesture. Somehow, in the midst of a murder investigation, they had wound up together, looking at the stars and listening to jazz. Molly didn’t have planned dates that went this well.
The chaise was so comfortable. She leaned back, concentrating on Ari’s caress. Her hand was like silk and Molly imagined the rest of Ari’s body would be just as smooth and soft.
She brought Ari’s hand to her lips, kissing each fingertip lightly. Ari smiled, and that was all the encouragement Molly needed. She pulled Ari on top of her, and stared into her green eyes. Ari bent to kiss her mouth, but Molly shook her head no. “Not yet,” she whispered. “I just want to touch you right now. I want to know every part of you.” Molly reached underneath Ari’s T-shirt and caressed her back, a sensation that gave Ari goose pimples. She wore no bra and her hardened nipples stood erect against the fabric. Ari stared into Molly’s twinkling eyes, made bluer by the moonlight. Her gaze fell to her chest and Molly’s agile hands, moving slowly under the shirt, her thumbs teasing Ari’s nipples. Ari moaned. Molly pushed Ari down on her back and let her hands slide down Ari’s abdomen. She made slow circles around Ari’s navel, her fingertips barely making contact with the cool flesh. Unable to stand anymore, Ari unbuttoned her shorts, but Molly clasped her hands together and brought them to her lips. “No.” Ari gave Molly a look of frustration, but nodded. Molly’s gaze wandered to Ari’s calves. Like every other part of her body, her legs were muscular, and Molly took her time feeling each curve. She worked her way up to Ari’s creamy white inner thighs, one of Molly’s favorite parts of the female body. Here, she would not use her hands. She brought her lips to Ari’s skin. Ari gasped as Molly’s kisses drew closer to her center, and when the detective’s tongue started working its way under her panties, she gasped.
Suddenly Molly blinked. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Only for a few minutes.” Ari’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You must have been having some dream. You looked entirely satisfied.”
Molly’s face turned beet red. “God, I’m sorry,” she said, standing up abruptly. “You invite me over and I’m snoring on your lounge.” She shuffled her feet, not meeting Ari’s gaze. “I should go.” Ari tried to protest, but Molly’s eyes were riveted to the front door, her exit from embarrassment. With her hand safely on the knob, she finally turned to Ari, expecting the beautiful woman to be angry or upset, but Ari simply touched her cheek.
“You need some rest,” Ari whispered, her breath smelling of mint.
They were inches apart, Molly keenly aware of the electricity between them and unable to believe it was actually happening. Ari caressed her face, and their foreheads touched. “I want to get to know you, Molly.”
At the sound of her name, Molly became rooted to the carpet. Her hand dropped from the doorknob and she stood motionless, feeling much like a tree trunk. She closed her eyes, sensing Ari’s kiss before she felt the soft lips against her own.
Chapter Seven
Tuesday, June 19
7:48 a.m.
“Fourteen, twelve,” Jane announced as she served the ball into the left corner. It bobbed between the two walls and Ari managed to bounce it off the back glass before it struck the ground. They mercilessly pounded the racquetball, attempting winning shots, until Ari smashed one so low that it skidded across the hardwood. While she won the point, Jane won the game on the next serve, and proceeded to bellow a few bars of the Rocky theme and do a little victory dance.
Ari started to pack up, pretending to be disgusted by her antics. Jane would never win any good sportsmanship awards. They were equally matched and both hated to lose—only Ari didn’t dance when she won. Dripping in sweat, they retreated to the locker rooms. Playing racquetball with Jane was a catch-22— she hated exercising, but she loved the energetic high that followed a workout. If only there was a way to feel that good just from lying on her patio lounge chair.
Standing stark naked, Jane put her hands on her hips and confronted Ari. “Now, I want to know what’s on your mind. That was the most apathetic racquetball game we’ve played in a long time. You weren’t there and I want to know what you’re thinking about. Is it Bob?”
At the mention of Bob’s name, a wave of guilt came over Ari. She should have been thinking about Bob, but instead her thoughts were about Molly and their kiss, which apparently wasn’t very good. She just shrugged her shoulders and prayed Jane would let it go. Half of the time Jane lost interest in a subject almost as quickly as it was mentioned, so Ari used the shoulder shrug on a regular basis.
“Well, I’m waiting. You know how much I like to win, but only if I feel it’s a righteous victory.”
Ari rolled her eyes. “God Jane, it was a racquetball game, not a civil rights march.”
Making no effort to put on any clothes, Jane sat down on a nearby bench and stretched out. “If it’s not Bob, then it’s a woman.” Ari didn’t answer. She continued her methodical routine for dressing, working from toe to head. Jane actually liked watching Ari dress. Although she didn’t want to date Ari, she certainly loved looking at her perfect body, and with Ari’s dressing system, her breasts were almost always the last to be covered.
/> Ari pulled her shirt over her head and sighed. Jane was staring at her. Clearly, Jane wasn’t losing interest. “Okay, the lead detective on Bob’s case is totally hot, and we had a few unpleasant run- ins, and I think she kinda blames me for Bob running off, but I think she’s attracted to me too. She’s sort of threatened to arrest me if I don’t stop interfering, but we made up. Anyway, she came over to my apartment last night and we kissed and then she just ran out the door without saying anything.”
Jane sat there, her mouth open.
“Well?” Ari asked.
“I’m processing. Give me a moment.”
Ari watched Jane formulate questions in her mind and reject each one. At one point, she started to open her mouth, and then she closed it. She knew that Ari hated to talk about her love life, so she needed to choose her questions carefully. Finally she smiled and asked, “What do you like about her?”
Ari sat down next to her friend and Jane saw she was blushing. “Everything. I mean I think she’s gorgeous, but what really gets me is her personality.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. That response means nothing. It’s just the politically correct statement. What specifically do you like about her—and remember, you’re talking to me. So if you’re only attracted to her enormous breasts or her marvelous ass, that’s okay.”
Ari chuckled. “Well, I don’t know her enough to say exactly. She was just impressive, yeah, I guess that’s the word. And I felt like there was something between us immediately.”
“Okay, don’t quit your day job. It’s apparent you’re never going to be a novel writer because you suck at description.”
“Look, I can’t explain it, okay?” Ari shrilled.
“So she’s a knockout?” Jane teased.
“Well, I think so, but I mean, she’s not your stereotypical beauty.”
“You mean like you.”
“Right,” Ari retorted. She grabbed her gym bag, avoiding Jane’s gaze.
Jane knew the conversation was practically over. She rose and dressed quickly, not worrying about which item of clothing went on first.
