by Ann Roberts
What was it? She closed her eyes and focused on the bag. Suddenly it came to her. “She got a call while we were at the bar...from a pay phone.” She closed her eyes again and tried to see the little silver flip-phone. The blue digital numbers appeared on the screen…
“Mol, you couldn’t have known it was a pay phone unless you knew the number.”
She looked up and cracked a grin. “Good work, detective. That’s right. I knew the number.”
“There aren’t a lot of pay phones left in Phoenix. Where do you go that has one?”
She sighed as the pieces came together. “Hideaway itself. That’s why I knew it. Whoever was calling was probably watching us. Maybe she or he was coaching Lola, but I’m guessing it was a woman. Men stick out whenever they’re there.”
He sighed heavily. “Damn it. Most likely she has an accomplice. We’re not looking for just one woman. We’re looking for two.”
Chapter Seven
How people spent their Sundays said a lot about their priorities. Biz remembered many stakeouts where the mark never got out of bed before noon, and she’d had trouble tailing others who were obsessed with getting twenty errands done before the weekend was officially over. So she had been somewhat impressed when Wanda strolled into Uptown Fitness at five o’clock for her kickboxing class. Anyone who made exercise a priority on the day of rest must have a few good qualities.
She checked her watch and extended the old Subaru’s bucket seat. For stakeouts she’d acquired an old Impreza that few people noticed. Her customary Mustang would’ve stood out immediately, as well as her sleek Harley. She had an hour to kill before the gym closed and Wanda left.
She had met her in that same class and recognized her strong focus coupled with flimsy morals—exactly the kind of person who would do anything for the right price. She needed to learn more about Wanda’s daily routines before she decided how to handle the situation. They’d always met in the locker room or the parking lot, so what Biz knew of the woman’s life was limited to a few offhanded comments she’d made about her girlfriends and her love of cocaine. Biz found it supremely ironic that someone so committed to physical health would throw it away on drugs.
She scrolled through the photos on her phone and found one of her with Ari on the day she moved into her new house. They were standing at the front door, and while she wore a gigantic smile, Ari’s expression was tentative and unsure. Biz constantly viewed the photo to remind herself of Ari’s fragility. While she desperately wanted to fold her in her arms and carry her off to bed—a fantasy that occurred frequently in her dreams—Ari wasn’t ready. Maybe solving the murder in Laguna would bring them a step closer to the fantasy. Until then there was always video chatting.
She pulled up Ari’s contact and waited for her beautiful face to appear on the screen.
“Hey,” Ari said in a loud voice.
They were apparently driving with Jane singing “My Sharona” in the background. Ari gave Jane a look and reached over from the passenger seat to silence the soundtrack.
“How’s it going? Have you learned anything so far?”
“Quite a bit actually. We found Nina’s journal and this.” She shuffled through a bag and held up a key. “What do you think this fits?”
Biz studied it carefully, noting the teeth and size. “It’s not a safety deposit box key and it’s not small enough to fit a padlock. My best guess would be a locker.”
“That’s what I was thinking. The only question is where?”
“I’d start with the area around her house. People like security, but they don’t like inconvenience if they need the items frequently. Look for a storage facility or if there’s a bus depot in the vicinity, anything like that.”
Ari nodded. “Good idea.”
“So what are you ladies doing for the rest of the night?”
“Well, Sam’s parents invited us to dinner at this swanky restaurant so we’re heading back to the hotel to get ready.”
Biz heard the trepidation in her voice. “You don’t want to go?”
“No, I’m fine with going, but I didn’t bring anything appropriate to wear.”
“I did,” Jane said from the driver’s seat.
Biz laughed. “I assume she’s prepared for all occasions.”
Ari rolled her eyes. “Of course. She spent an extra two hundred dollars in baggage fees. In the event we’re forced to attend a funeral, African safari or royal coronation, Jane will be ready.”
“Hey,” Jane chimed in, “you never know what could happen.”
“So true,” Ari agreed. “So we’ll see you on Tuesday? Will you be done with your business by then?”
She glanced at the gym’s front door. “Absolutely. Um, have fun with your shower…I mean dinner.” She saw Ari squirm and she grinned. “Just a little flirting, Ari. I’m allowed to do that, right?”
“You’re at the line,” she said before she hung up.
She closed her eyes and pictured the contour of Ari’s body outlined in the shower steam, rivulets cascading across her smooth skin toward her most delicious parts. She opened her eyes and groaned. She would give anything to join her in that shower, but first things first. She needed to delete Wanda from her life. The gym closed in another ten minutes and then she’d follow her home. Once she saw her neighborhood, she’d know what she needed to do. She tapped the steering wheel while she listed the goons who might be willing to help her if the price were right.
Her gaze focused on the exit door, she almost didn’t notice the well-dressed man hurrying through the entrance—Andre Williams, Molly Nelson’s former partner.
Chapter Eight
Ari knew Jane wouldn’t tolerate a Budget Inn since the word budget wasn’t in her vocabulary, but she had not expected a suite at the Montage, one of Laguna’s finest resorts, which sat on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
“I’m not particularly thrilled with our accommodations,” Jane said as they unpacked, “but they will have to do.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked.
The three-room suite was larger than Ari’s old condo and could accommodate a family of five comfortably. She eyed the Jacuzzi tub longingly. The amenities were top shelf. She wondered if Jane would notice the extra charge on her credit card if one of the plush robes went missing.
Jane went to the balcony and stared at the hills in front of her. “I’d hoped for an ocean view, but I imagine it’s impossible to get one of those rooms at the last minute.”
“I think we’ll live,” Ari said. “Now, I hope you have a decent outfit I can wear.”
She studied her critically. “Well, given the difference in our heights, the skirt is going to be short and sexy.”
That proved an understatement. As they drove to the Watermarc Restaurant, Ari constantly crossed and uncrossed her legs, cognizant that the black leather skirt barely covered her mid-thigh region. Normally she was okay with just-above-the-knee. In fact, Molly had loved it when she wore her purple miniskirt, but she knew when she sat down her long legs would be almost completely uncovered.
“We must look fabulous,” Jane said as she handed her keys to the valet, who leered at both of them.
They arrived before Sam and his parents and were seated at the premier table. Diners at the Watermarc were afforded stunning views of the high-tide waves surging onto the beach in the blue-black moonlight. She imagined the Garritsons’ wealth and power guaranteed them the best table wherever they went. A middle-aged man continued to stare at them over his menu, but no one else seemed to care.
“See?” Jane said. “It’s California. Everyone is expected to be beautiful. Here we’re just normal.”
Ari shook her head. She’d never thought of herself as beautiful. Her mother had been beautiful.
Before they could order drinks, the maître d’ approached with Sam, his parents and a man who looked almost exactly like Sam.
“You didn’t tell me he had a twin,” she whispered to Jane.
“I di
dn’t know.”
“Jane and Ari, I’d like you to meet my parents, Steve and Georgie, and my brother, Evan.”
They finished the customary introductions and a debate ensued over the seating arrangement. Judging from the disconcerted expression on Georgie’s face, Ari realized she and Jane had been given the best seats at the round table, the two facing the ocean. While Jane and Sam made small talk, Ari watched Evan and Steve cater to Georgie.
“Mom, why don’t you sit here?” Evan asked. He pulled out a chair at the place Ari guessed was the second-best location, the side facing the dining room.
“All right,” Georgie said with an accommodating smile. “Thank you, son.” She adjusted the silk scarf draped around her neck and politely scratched her nose with a finely manicured finger. She wore multiple bracelets on each wrist and a variety of colored stone rings on her fingers. The gray-blond hair that had been scooped up by the red bandanna earlier now formed a halo around her well-maintained face. Her shimmering cocktail dress, a reward for what Ari imagined was a vicious exercise regimen or a lot of plastic surgery, clung to her curves.
Steve sat next to her, leaving the cheap seats, the ones facing the restaurant with no ocean view, for Sam and Evan. They were as identical as twins could be, she thought. Both possessed strong features and dark brown eyes. Ari wondered if she would be able to tell them apart if they were dressed alike.
She glanced at Steve. Brown eyes seemed to be his only contribution to their gene pool. He was short and portly with a receding hairline, and his doughy facial features conveyed kindness, not charm, which probably played well to his cynical constituents.
“You’re going to love the food here,” Sam said.
“What do you recommend?” Jane asked everyone.
“I always enjoy the veal,” he replied.
“But the tri-tip is better,” Evan disagreed.
“No, no,” Steve interjected. “We all know the salmon is the best.”
All three engaged in a lighthearted sparring match until Georgie looked up from her menu and said, “Boys, boys.” She glanced at Jane and Ari. “Do you feel sorry for me yet? One woman surrounded by all this testosterone for over three decades.”
“You love it and you know it,” Evan said. “You’re the center of attention.”
Georgie harrumphed. “If that’s the case, then where’s my martini?”
Steve motioned for the waiter, who took the drink orders and departed. Once everyone had set aside their menus, Steve faced Jane and Ari. “Ladies, I appreciate your help with our little problem. Sam has told me one of you is a licensed investigator?”
“Actually that’s our friend,” Ari clarified for the second time that day. “She’s arriving on Tuesday. Jane and I are getting a head start doing some of the interviewing and laying the foundation.”
“Ari’s being modest,” Jane said. “She’s solved several cases herself even though she isn’t a PI.”
“Aren’t you a realtor?” Sam asked.
“I am.”
“But she used to be a police officer,” Jane inserted, “until she became a born-again capitalist.”
Everyone laughed and Georgie asked, “So how is it you solve murders?”
Ari didn’t have an easy answer. “It tends to happen by accident. I’m just in the right or wrong place, depending how you look at it.”
“All we ask is that you’re discreet,” Steve said seriously after the drinks arrived and the dinner order was placed. “So how can we help you?”
Ari pulled a small notebook and pen from her purse. “I hope you don’t mind if I take notes, but I’ll need to share this with the PI.”
“Of course,” Georgie said. “We’ll help however we can. What’s happened to Sam is such an injustice. Nina was a wonderful girl, but she was incredibly clingy. She couldn’t understand when it was over.”
Ari’s gaze traveled to Sam, who’d grown tense, but he didn’t disagree with her. She began to wonder about the relationship between mother and son.
“First, since I can’t interview the police detectives assigned to the case, I’ll need to ask you some review questions. I know Sam was home alone when Nina was killed, but where were the rest of you?”
“I was at a school music concert,” Evan offered. “I’m the assistant principal where Nina worked.”
“I was at my boutique at the John Wayne Airport, closing up,” Georgie said.
Steve motioned for another drink and said, “And I was at a charity function for the fire department.”
“And that’s why they came after me,” Sam summarized. “I have no alibi.”
“Can any of you think of a reason why someone would want to harm Nina?” Jane asked.
“I’m certain it had something to do with her occupation,” Georgie said. “She had some rather unseemly dealings with parents and students.”
“Do you remember any specific examples?”
Steve pointed his fork at Evan. “What about that Michaela girl? She mentioned her a few times. Wasn’t there a problem with the mother’s boyfriend?”
Evan cleared his throat, and Ari sensed he was hesitant to discuss students with his family. “Well, Nina suspected there may have been some abuse by the mother’s boyfriend—”
“That guy is nuts,” Sam added.
“Sam, please,” Evan said. “We’re still talking about a family at my school.”
Ari grabbed her pen. “What’s the little girl’s name?”
“Michaela Glass,” Evan answered. “She was one of Nina’s favorite kids. She’s incredibly bright and optimistic, despite having a mother with a drug problem who chose an allegedly abusive boyfriend. Their names are Eden Glass and Bobby Arco,” he added so she could write them down.
“So Bobby Arco didn’t like Nina interfering?”
“He threatened Nina at one point,” Sam said. “Told her to stay out of his business or she’d regret it.”
“When did that happen?”
“About two weeks ago,” Evan said.
“Was there anything else?”
Evan shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They were constantly showing up at the school, and Nina had many conferences with Michaela. I imagine there was a lot Nina kept to herself.”
Ari turned to Sam. “Did Nina ever talk about her journals?”
“Sure,” Sam said with a nod. “She wrote in her journal constantly.”
“You never told us that,” Georgie interjected.
“It’s not important. It was private.”
Ari glanced up. “Do you know where she kept her recent journal or her old journals?”
He shook his head. “No, we didn’t talk about it. I knew they were very private, so I didn’t press.”
The meals arrived and after sending her tri-tip back three times, Georgie was finally satisfied. Ari and Jane had both ordered the Catch of the Day, a roasted bass that was absolutely delicious. Ari couldn’t imagine how Georgie’s dinner could have been so sub-par that it needed to return to the kitchen repeatedly, but she noticed the men catered to her every whim, asking her continuously if she was all right or enjoying the meal. Ari sensed they weren’t particularly worried about Sam’s fate, and she imagined they’d hired an excellent attorney in case Sam was charged with the murder.
“Tell us about your boutique, Georgie,” Jane asked. “You have several locations, don’t you?”
She smiled as the conversation returned to her. “Yes, my store Bare Essentials is located in nearly every airport in California. We sell travel products for those who forgot their toothbrush or who want something unique like a neck pillow made from feathers.”
“You do your own art?” Ari asked.
“Yes, it’s a passion. Have you seen those painted wine and martini glasses?”
“Oh, yes,” Ari said, though she was not sure she ever had. “They make great gifts.”
“They certainly do,” Georgie agreed. “You girls will need to stop by the store before you leave. I’ll give you
a special discount.”
“That would be so nice,” Jane said in her fake voice.
Ari could tell she didn’t like Georgie, so she wasn’t surprised when she turned and asked Evan, “Did you always want to be an educator or have you thought about a career in politics too?”
He laughed. “No, I think we’ve got enough politicians in the family. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher.” He threw a glance at Sam. “And if it weren’t for me, Sam and Nina never would’ve met.”
“You introduced them?” Ari asked.
The men exchanged a grin, and Georgie said, “Yes, and I may never forgive my number two son,” she joked, but her tone was laced with acid. “While I’m distraught over what happened, and I admire Sam for volunteering to plan Nina’s funeral, I knew she wasn’t right for him.”
“Don’t go there, Mother,” Sam said sharply.
“Honey, I wasn’t insinuating anything. I know you’re still getting over Nina—”
“I was never over Nina, Mom. That’s the part you couldn’t understand. It’s my duty to plan her service.”
He threw his napkin on the table and stormed out of the restaurant. Evan and Steve stared at their plates while Georgie toyed with her olive. “Have you ladies heard about Steve’s impending appointment?” she asked as if nothing had happened. “The governor is going to ask him to lead a special task force to investigate potential changes to the child abuse laws in California.”
Ari chose her words carefully. “Are they insufficient?”
He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Well, they’re rather antiquated. The governor is concerned that loopholes exist which allow many criminals to escape prosecution.”
“And next year is an election year,” Evan added. “The appointment could lead to something bigger.”
“That’s hardly the point, son,” Steve said. “This would be a valuable examination at any time.”
