by Ann Roberts
The fact she’d kept such personalbelongings in her bedroom had always bothered Molly, but she’d never said anything, not thinking it was her place and certainly not understanding what it was like to lose a parent and a sibling. Despite the amount of bluster the Nelson clan could generate during a dinner discussion, she knew she was lucky to have her family intact. And she knew Ari had loved them. She imagined it had pained her to lose that connection, perhaps even more so than their relationship. She added a point to the scorecard in her mind. Ari was still ahead, but she was gaining ground.
She realized there was something missing from the bedroom—a framed photo of the two of them, the one that usually sat on her nightstand.
She chewed her lip and resisted the temptation to look for it. Was the picture put away in a convenient location where she could reach it handily, or had she tossed it into the garbage? She really wanted to know, but her cop instincts told her she didn’t have a warrant or any right to search Ari’s things.
She split the difference and only opened the nightstand drawer. When she found nothing but the usual detritus of nail clippers, bookmarks, scissors and safety pins, she was disappointed. She sat on the bed, certain she could smell Ari’s strawberry shampoo wafting from the pillow.
The whirr of the sump pump sent her back down the stairs, and she joined Brian in the kitchen.
“Find anything?” he asked with a crooked grin.
She ignored him and straightened the hoses to increase the flow while he examined the wall behind the kitchen sink, the source of the burst pipe. Her gaze strayed to a doorway and the solarium beyond it.
She sloshed to the center of the room, noting the built-in bookcases and vaulted wooden ceiling. She imagined Ari curled up on the window seat, her gaze alternating between the pastoral garden and a good book. If they were still together, the far corner would be perfect for Molly’s piano. It would be just out of reach of the strong rays of the sun. She wondered for a fleeting second if Ari had thought the same thing.
The bookshelves were filled with all of her books, many of which Molly had never seen because they’d been kept in storage. It was one of the reasons she’d wanted a bigger place, to have a library. On a middle shelf were two framed photos Molly had seen hundreds of times, one of Lucia and one of Ari with Richie a few weeks before he was murdered. Nowhere was there a suggestion of her father’s existence in her life.
“Okay, I think we’re done for a couple hours. Fortunately she doesn’t own any rugs and only a few pieces of furniture. Let’s move those outside and then we’ll go.” He glanced at Molly, still lost in the beauty of the room and the depth of her musings. “Thanks for all of your help,” he added sarcastically.
She looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“I know. Let’s get this done so you can go home and change. I’ll pick you up in a few hours for our workout.”
He grinned and she groaned.
Chapter Three
Biz read the scrawled message for the tenth time. “Pay me or you’ll be sorry.”It wasn’t signed, but that didn’t matter. She’d found it under her office door that morning. She was surprised it had taken so many months for it to arrive. She didn’t need her private detective skills to know who wrote it or what it meant. She smiled wryly. The lady got points for being succinct.
She’d worried this might happen. She hated employing amateurs, and the woman who called herself “Lola” and whose real name was Wanda, had helped Biz end Molly Nelson’s career and contributed to Molly and Ari’s breakup. Biz couldn’t have scripted a better ending, but it had been so easy. Ari was so vulnerable and once she started drinking…
She smiled, remembering Ari’s soft lips. Now that Molly was gone, she knew it was only a matter of time before she could win her affections. Ari would belong to her.
She’d given Wandamore credit, figuring she would realize Biz’s situation was precarious and she was vulnerable since she was the only remaining link to Vince Carnotti, the crime boss who’d infiltrated the police department. Fortunately, Biz’s police connection, Sol Gardener, was dead. As long as Wanda stayed quiet, she knew Jack Adams and his task force would never know her name. She’d broken no laws in the downfall of Molly Nelson, except using illicit drugs, but whatever. Everybody did that.
Wanda had to stay quiet. She tapped the blackmail note on her desk, wondering how much money it would take for Wanda to leave Phoenix permanently.
“She’d always want more,” Biz whispered, voicing the truth.
She frowned, thinking of the possibilities she didn’t like. Before he died, Biz had told Sol Gardener she was done. She’d been in his pocket for four years, doing light crimes like B&E, stealing cars and running drugs. The pay was incredible, far better than she’d ever made as a PI, particularly since so many of her clients were victimized women who didn’t have any money. She rationalized that her work with battered women justified her criminal activity with Vince Carnotti. She had a right to a posh home, a hot car and a great girlfriend.
She’d finally arrived and now this. She crumpled up the note and shot it across the room against the wall. She couldn’t let her ruin everything, but she couldn’t fathom harming a sister—or could she?
“Hey.”
Ari stood in the doorway, wearing grungy shorts and a dirty T-shirt. Biz guessed she’d been gardening, but despite her attire and her disheveled hair, she looked beautiful. She probably rolled out of bed looking amazing—a supposition Biz couldn’t wait to test.
“This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I need some help.”
She slid into one of the client chairs, and Biz grabbed a notepad.
“Sure. What can I do for you?”
“Well, actually it’s an out-of-town problem.”
“How far out of town?”
“Laguna Beach. It’s for a friend of Jane’s. He’s been accused of killing his girlfriend, but he says he’s innocent and Jane believes him.”
“Does she know him well?”
Ari rolled her eyes. “On Facebook.”
She chuckled slightly. “Where everyone’s your friend?”
“His name’s Sam and he’s willing to pay you for all of your expenses in addition to your time.”
She scratched her head and pondered the predicament. She wanted to say yes, but if she left town without resolving the Wanda affair, she might return to find Big Jack Adams on her doorstep with handcuffs.
“How long do you think this will take?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t be gone too long so we’d need to be back in a few days.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going?”
“With Jane. She thinks I need to get away even if it is to investigate a murder. I guess the fates are on her side since a pipe burst in my kitchen this morning and flooded most of the rooms while I was at the nursery.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I just got rid of all the subcontractors and now the plumber’s coming back.”
Biz waited to see if Ari was going to comment on who the plumber would be. She knew Molly had gone to a rehab facility in Tucson to dry out and returned to work with her brother in the family plumbing business. Biz guessed she was sober since no one had seen her at Hideaway, her favorite bar, or anywhere else for that matter.
She found it surprising that Molly could turn away from the partying life she’d known for so long. No one could drink scotch like Molly Nelson, and before Ari came into her life, Biz and Molly regularly competed for women at Hideaway—and then for Ari. And I’ve won.
“I’d love to help you. I’ll need a day or two to get a few things squared away, but I could fly over on Tuesday. Would that be okay?”
“That would be great,” she said.
Biz stared into her green eyes, full of anxiety and a spark of interest. She knew it was there but if she pressed too hard and too fast, she’d get nothing. She used all of her
willpower and refrained from kissing the gorgeous lips. She could be patient.
“Um, where are you staying now?”
“With Jane, of course. We leave in the morning.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of days. Tell Jane not to worry. We’ll figure it out.”
She touched Ari’s shoulder, and they exchanged a brief glance before she headed down the hallway.
Yes, she could be patient and careful too. She’d eliminate Wanda and then go claim her prize.
Chapter Four
Jack had been disappointed when Ari called back and canceled, but he was glad she was getting out of town for a while. She needed a vacation and a break. He’d come to understand she lived on a bubble between happiness and sadness, never able to fully engage in life but unwilling to allow the misery of the past to consume her, a past he was partly responsible for constructing. When he looked at her, he felt pity and pride simultaneously.
Gradually they were getting to know each other again after four years. Eventually he would tell her everything she didn’t know about her dead mother and her murdered brother, but it was far too soon.
He laced his fingers behind his head and faced the bulletin board covered in index cards and photographs. His way of solving crime was old-fashioned: create a timeline and stare at the clues until answers emerged. Andre Williams, Molly’s former partner and the detective now assigned to him, initially had difficulty following the “chaos” as he referred to it. Apparently Molly’s methodology was rooted in computer lists and endless circles on random sheets of paper, several of which he’d found stuffed in the drawers and cabinets of the office he’d inherited—her former office.
His gaze remained at the hole on the timeline, the place where a picture should be, the mystery woman who ruined Molly’s life.
“Any new ideas?” Andre asked from the doorway.
He was still wearing his suit jacket. Jack had learned his unspoken agenda: break the stereotype associated with African-American men. His dress and grooming were impeccable and he was handsome, which explained why many of the female beat cops constantly gravitated to his desk. So far he seemed to be an up-and-comer. Molly had expressed a few concerns about his attention to detail, but she hadn’t elaborated.
“We know most of it,” he said. Jack picked up a dart, another one of his trademarks, and fired it into the blank space of corkboard. “But we need her.”
Andre struggled to fit into one of the small visitor chairs, and Jack immediately decided to order some new ones just to piss off Captain Ruskin. He picked up a few skimpy notes from his previous meeting with Molly, who had been far less cooperative at the time than he would’ve liked, but he understood. She’d been betrayed in many ways.
“She was a blonde who was at Hideaway a few times prior to the night of the accident. The bartender confirms she was becoming a regular, but after that night, she’s never appeared again. Molly’s convinced the woman was a plant and part of Sol’s setup.”
“Damn right,” Andre agreed. “Molly was a changed person after she met Ari. She quit running around with other women. She was totally devoted to her.”
He held up a hand. “I get it, Andre. You don’t have to defend her to me—”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, his voice shaking. “Some of the rumors…”
He didn’t bother to finish the statement, because Jack had heard all of the snarky comments made by the jealous detectives. Molly could be a hard-ass, and she hadn’t bothered to make a lot of friends. Her downfall was a pleasure to many, including her former boss and Jack’s old beat partner, David Ruskin.
“Just remember,” Jack said, “that a lot of people respected her because she was a great cop. Those are the people you need to listen to now. The ones talking crap won’t ever be half as good as Molly.”
Andre took in his words before he said, “Thanks.”
He held up the single page of notes. “Maybe you need to talk to her. She doesn’t want to talk to me about this. I think she’s terribly embarrassed about her behavior and the lesbian thing, which she knows I had a problem with—in the past,” he added quickly. “Why don’t you give it a try?”
“Will do,” he said, rising.
“Really press her for details. It’s been a few months since I spoke with her so maybe she’ll remember something else. Time is running out. If we don’t get a lead soon, they’ll kill the investigation. It’s going cold and the only reason the mayor has hung on this long is because he wants Vince Carnotti. We need this woman to connect Sol and Carnotti.”
Andre nodded and left. Jack gazed at the stacks of files and boxes around the room. He was slowly making it his own, but he was having difficulty letting go of Molly’s presence. He’d liked her as a cop and a girlfriend for his daughter, but Ari had made her love life a taboo topic. He guessed it was too painful to talk about. He had a hunch too that somewhere in the midst of the breakup was Biz Stone, a PI who had it bad for Ari. He couldn’t decide if he liked her; there was a nagging feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right about her. He just wasn’t sure if it was his cop or dad instincts on alert.
Sol Gardener’s last words played over and over in his head. He’d used his dying breath to warn Jack that Ari was still in danger, which meant there were still people who needed to be brought to justice.
Booming sounds like cannon fire echoed down the hallway. He went outside to check the source. A tall redhead had her arms wrapped around the soda machine and was rocking it back and forth.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, giving up.
“Let me show you how this works,” he said. He gave a quick pound right below the coin slot and the change dropped. “The quarters get stuck,” he said, retrieving her Diet Coke. “Jack Adams.”
“Dylan Phillips.”
He cocked his head. “The new chief?”
She nodded. He decided she was beautiful, not exotic like Ari’s mom Lucia, whose Mediterranean looks had turned heads, but in a wholesome and truthful way he imagined worked in her favor when she was interrogating suspects. She was in her forties, but she had a youthful face that hadn’t aged. She wore designer jeans and a blue blazer over a tailored shirt, her black boots adding an extra inch to her formidable stature.
“I officially start on Monday. You seem surprised.”
He looked away, embarrassed. “I thought you were a guy.”
She popped the soda tab and stared at him cynically. “Don’t you read the papers or at least the department email? They hired me two months ago.”
“I’ve been busy. I’m running the task force on Vince Carnotti.”
She winced and said, “Sorry, but my first act as chief will be to disband it. You’ve got nothing from what I hear.” Her tone was flat, and he guessed she wasn’t sorry at all.
“That’s not true,” he disagreed. “We’re very close to making the connection. There’s only one player missing, the key—”
“But you’ve still got to find him and break him—”
“Her.”
“It’s a her?”
“Yeah, she ruined Molly Nelson’s career. Molly was getting too close.”
She shook her head in disgust. “Don’t talk to me about Molly Nelson, disgrace to the uniform.”
He chewed on his tongue and held his temper. “Where are you getting your information?”
“Captain Ruskin, of course. I’ve spent a week with him. He’s been quite helpful—”
“No doubt.”
Her expression clouded, and he guessed she wasn’t used to being interrupted. “And he’s told me some stories about you, Big Jack Adams.” She leaned closer, and her green eyes burned hot. “Let’s be clear. I don’t like rogue cops. I’m by-the-book, which is probably why they hired me to follow a corrupt chief after a major scandal. I’m a fix-it kind of person and I will rebuild the image of this department. People need to get in step with me or get gone, especially people who might be promoted.”
“Hey, excuse me.�
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A woman in jeans and a denim work shirt stood behind them. The word “Hideaway” was embroidered above the breast pocket in neon pink. She held her purse tightly over her shoulder and looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m looking for Jack Adams, Ari’s dad?”
“That’s me,” he said.
“I’m Vicky, the head bartender at Hideaway, and I might have some more information.”
He motioned to his office. “Please, come inside.”
“Just a sec,” she said, turning to Dylan. “I don’t know who you are, but I heard you talking smack about Molly. She was one of the finest people I’ve ever met. Put her life on the line a lot. I’m just saying.”
Before Dylan could respond, Vicky had walked past her. Jack followed, biting his lip to keep from laughing. They headed into his office, and when he offered her a chair, she declined.
“I won’t be long,” she said. “I’m not fond of police stations, but I’ll make an exception if it helps Molly.” She looked as if she was headed to work with her hair tied back to keep it out of the food and drinks.
“I appreciate you coming down. What did you remember since you were interviewed?”
“It’s about the blonde who was all over her. I thought it was odd that she usually happened to show up right before Molly, but a few times she hung out.”
“Did you share this with Detective Williams?”
She nodded. “Oh, yeah. But what I remembered wasn’t about her drink order. It was about what happened when she paid. She paid with cash, and it was always this big clusterfuck because her wallet was buried at the bottom of her purse. She’d toss all her crap on the bar looking for it, including her key ring.”
“What about it?”
