by Ann Roberts
Wanda had answered the door carrying a highball. When she saw Biz in tight jeans, her black leather jacket over a white Western shirt with no sleeves and her black bra peeking through, she immediately asked her to stay for a little party, pouring vodka tonics for herself and Biz and willingly shared her coke stash. After a drink and a line, Biz found the courage to do what needed to be done. They made out for a while, and she was careful about what DNA she transferred. After Wanda downed four vodkas and was ready to head to the bedroom, she suggested they go to the patio and toke up first.
Marijuana had never affected her, but by the time they finished the joint, Wanda was lightheaded and off guard. When they stood to go inside, Biz moved behind her and caressed her breasts. For a split second she lost her nerve—until she noticed a black Escalade parked in the deserted alley behind the apartments. She had no choice. Her hands slid to the center of Wanda’s back and she planted her feet in a football stance. Then Wanda was gone, hurtling over the balcony, drink still in her hand, wearing an expression of complete surprise and betrayal. Biz had gazed at her lifeless body on the pavement and nearly vomited.
Then she’d made the mistakes. She put on her leather gloves and pulled the railing back into place. Mistake one.
Then she’d rushed into the living room determined to erase the evidence of her visit in the fastest way possible, worried that the Escalade might be waiting for her. She’d grabbed her empty highball glass and stuffed it in the pocket of her jacket. Mistake number two. The police could count, and if someone like Jack Adams were assigned to the case, she imagined a missing glass would bother him endlessly.
The last mistake was the dumbest. She’d rubbed the wet coaster across her leather sleeve and put it back in the coaster holder without completely drying it. Hopefully no one would notice and by the time someone thought of it the tiny droplets of moisture would be gone. But a smart tech or a detective like Jack…
She rubbed her eyes. She was crashing but she wasn’t tired. She needed sleep but the adrenaline rush from committing murder, the cocaine high and the long bike ride made it impossible. She’d need a little help as usual. She reached into her knapsack and found the familiar pill bottle. Dr. Nasab understood. She’d been abused for years by her tyrannical Iraqi husband—who was now being deported thanks to Biz. In return Dr. Nasab freely prescribed pills to help her through long stakeouts or gain the needed rest that often eluded her. She popped a few of the red and blue pills into her mouth and closed her eyes. She would be with Ari in a few hours and everything would be better. They were about to start their life together, and Ari would save her soul.
Chapter Nineteen
During Nina’s funeral at the Shepherd by the Sea Church, Ari, Jane and Rory each sat by a different set of suspects, having spent most of the past evening matching characters with real people. They’d analyzed and cross-referenced Nina’s journal entries until they were rather certain who was who, but they were still no closer to finding the killer or killers since there seemed to be plenty of people with motives.
At one point in the evening Biz had texted that she might get to Laguna by morning, much to Ari’s disappointment. She could’ve used some help with Rory and Jane, who had endlessly volleyed barbs and vocabulary puns. When she had finally retreated to her bedroom, they were starting another Bananagrams game with a bottle of Boone’s Farm next to Rory.
She looked around the full sanctuary. Still no sign of Biz. Nina’s neighbors, Bonnie and Fred Cahill, sat directly in front of her. Last night they had concluded that Adriana, the spurned wife, was in fact Bonnie and that her cheating husband Fred wore the accurate moniker of Frederick. They had indeed lost a daughter, although Rory had never known the exact cause until Nina mentioned bulimia in her journal. Rory recalled a few weeks before Nina died, she had asked her about Fred, a man who freely shared his extramarital exploits around the pool house. Since Rory had heard about the cheating, she became Hotspur in the journal entries. Jane had thought it was such a wonderful nickname she’d addressed her as such for the rest of the night.
Ari doubted infidelity would lead to murder unless there were some other facts still waiting to be uncovered. Nina had mentioned in one of the final entries that “Frederick’s inheritance was vulnerable,” and she knew that a sizeable inheritance split in half during a divorce proceeding could be a motive if a prenuptial agreement wasn’t in place.
She craned her neck and noticed Jane sitting between Evan and Sam, who was having a difficult time holding his emotions together. He was supposed to read a scripture, and she wondered if he’d be able to make it through without breaking down. Both Steve and Georgie looked perfectly stoic and somber in deference to the occasion. Next to Steve was a handsome gentleman who whispered to him several times; she wondered if he was a relative.
Rory had surmised the Garritsons were portrayed in the journals as Orlando, Cesario, Benedick, Valeria and Horatio. If, in fact, Nina was one of the characters, then the other four Garritsons completed the list, one of whom could be a murderer. Something had happened in the summer that triggered Nina’s entries in the journal, followed by a secret that may have led to her murder. Someone was hiding something in the Garritson family, although Sam had maintained they were boring and free of scandal.
She gazed at the row of Garritsons again. The character Aguecheek only appeared in the last entry of the completed journal. She pulled it from her large bag and reread it again. “Valeria caught in secrets thanks to apothecary. Share with no one except H. Maybe Orlando? Must investigate! Can Benedick be trusted? Will it destroy? Cesario, oh, Cesario… It is Aguecheek.”
She realized that if the handsome man next to Steve Garritson were added to the character count, there were enough people to create the scenario in Nina’s journal, assuming she was either Valeria or, as Rory had mentioned, Cesario. Whoever the man was, he was close enough to warrant a seat in the Garritson pew at the funeral, so perhaps he was important enough to be a character in the journal.
Rory had planted herself behind Michaela and her mother Eden. Bobby Arco was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t surprised, considering the threats he’d leveled against Nina at the school. Ari had tried to stay out of Eden’s line of sight, knowing she would be suspicious after their confrontation at the auto shop. Eden and Michaela’s attention, though, was focused on the altar and the portrait of Nina that stared at the crowd. Michaela looked terribly forlorn and her mother whispered in her ear and squeezed her shoulder. Poor kid, she thought.
More than likely the Edmund in Nina’s journal was Bobby Arco and Emilia was Eden. In a cruel twist of symbolism, Rory deduced that Caliban, the pathetic creature from The Tempest, was in fact Michaela and that Nina had cast herself as Katherine, a strong Shakespearean female who protected Caliban.
“I’ve got my money on Bobby Arco,” Rory had said the night before. “He’s got a horrible temper, he works near Crescent Point and it’s obvious Nina is afraid of him.”
It was true that the strongest wordings in Nina’s journal were reserved for the Edmund, Emilia and Caliban story. Perhaps Bobby Arco’s absence from the funeral was motivated by guilt, not anger.
The first row, traditionally for family members, held only Nina’s aunt and a distant cousin. Both of her parents were dead and she’d been an only child. Ari understood that pain.
Standing in the back was Detective Clay Justice. He caught her eye and nodded. She nodded in return and leaned forward in the pew, in the hopes of overhearing the Cahills, who were already sniping at each other in whispered tones. Their facial expressions and body language suggested they couldn’t stand each other, and when Fred Cahill checked his watch and sighed, she guessed he was present only because his wife had forced him to go or because his absence would be noticed.
The ceremony lasted an hour as several colleagues and friends offered remembrances, sang songs and read poems in Nina’s honor. When Sam approached the lectern, his hands shook and he started to sob. Evan ran to his aid, b
ut his voice quivered throughout the Psalms scripture. Ari’s gaze darted among the suspects. Eden wiped tears from her face, Bonnie Cahill dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and Steve Garritson stared at the floor while Georgie put a hand to her mouth, obviously channeling the pain of her children. Only Fred Cahill showed no reaction.
After the pastor offered a prayer, the recessional began. As the rows of guests snaked outside, Eden and Michaela quickly headed toward the street, holding hands. They were evidently walking home without saying a word to anyone. Ari motioned Rory to join her.
“Did you notice anything?”
Rory shook her head. “No, the little girl was terribly upset and her mom just kept talking about how the angels would take care of Miss Hunter in heaven. It made me cry. I don’t think she had anything to do with this, but I think the boyfriend is guilty as hell,” she quickly added.
“Come with me,” Ari said. “I want you to introduce me to the Cahills.”
Bonnie and Fred Cahill apparently had rushed to the buffet luncheon. While dozens of people milled about, they were two of only a few people who actually held a plate full of food.
“It’s such a shame,” Bonnie said between bites. “I can’t believe they haven’t found her killer. Maybe he’s actually here,” she whispered.
Fred harrumphed and rolled his eyes. “You watch way too much Law and Order. Besides I heard they’re getting close to arresting Sam Garritson.”
“Where did you hear that?” Ari asked.
Fred licked potato salad off two fingers before he said, “Friend of mine in the department. Apparently when she went over the railing, Nina ripped off part of a shirt.”
Rory crossed her arms. “What kind of fabric was it?”
“Don’t know, but you can get DNA off stuff.”
“And you think I watch too much Law and Order?” Bonnie snorted. “You’re full of crap, Fred.”
“It’s true, B,” he insisted. “If she ripped off part of his shirt, she might’ve grabbed some chest hair too.”
“Did you speak with Detective Justice?” Ari asked. The Cahills stopped bantering and stared at her. “I mean, did all of the neighbors get questioned?”
“Not everyone, just the people in her list of contacts. Since I’ve been visiting with her each week, they asked us where we were on the night of the murder. It was just like on TV.”
“And where were you?” Rory laughed, as if the inquiry were nothing more than a joke.
“Well, I was working late, and Fred was out at the bar with his friends.” She patted his shoulder playfully. “Since he wasn’t one of Nina’s favorite people, I’m grateful he’s got an alibi.”
“You’re the one who was in cahoots with her. She was trying to get you to leave me. Damn cunt,” he said quietly.
“Excuse me?” Rory asked, stepping into his personal space.
“I don’t have to talk to any of you,” he growled and stomped off.
Looking quite embarrassed, Bonnie said, “I’m so sorry,” and left too.
Jane joined them and watched the Cahills’ shouting match escalate as they got into their car.
Rory glared in their direction. “Okay, I’m going to add Fred Cahill to the prick category. I wish he and Bobby Arco had done it together. I’d love to see ’em both fry.”
“Don’t you mean be lethally injected?” Jane corrected. “I thought California didn’t use the electric chair.”
“How unfortunate,” Rory murmured. “Whoever killed Nina deserves to suffer.”
“I agree.”
Rory faced her. “So we actually agree on something?”
Jane’s eyes smoldered. She was a few inches shorter than Rory, and when she tipped her chin up to meet her gaze, Ari thought for sure they’d wind up in a torrid kiss, one that was entirely inappropriate for a funeral. She broke the spell and asked, “Is Sam okay?”
Jane blinked and shook her head. “He’s not okay at all. He really loved her and there’s no way he could’ve hurt her. The fact that the police suspect him is only adding to his pain.”
They looked over at the family clustered together with Nina’s aunt and her cousin as mourners continued to wander by and offer condolences. The man who’d sat by Steve at the service remained at his side.
Ari pointed at him. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Scott Kramer. He’s an old family friend and Steve’s closest political advisor.”
She studied the tall, handsome man. He was younger than Georgie and Steve by several years, but if he was that close to the family, she imagined he might know all of their secrets. He flashed a smile at something Evan said. He should be the politician, she thought. That smile was worth a lot of votes.
Evan waved them over and introduced Scott. “He started cleaning our pools when he was a teenager. Dad was so impressed by his drive for success that he helped him start his company.”
Scott looked appropriately humble, although she felt his eyes all over her as Evan detailed his climb from pool cleaning service to landscaping business.
“He recently landed the Montage account,” he added. “Excuse me.” He moved to another group that she assumed were schoolteachers.
Scott flashed a winning smile. “How do you all know Nina?”
“She was one of my best friends a long time ago,” Jane said.
“It couldn’t have been that long ago,” he said playfully.
“What are your thoughts about Nina’s murder?” Ari asked.
The question seemed to surprise him. “Well, it’s horrible. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt her.”
Rory stared at him and crossed her arms. “Do you think Sam and Nina were still in love?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think they were done. It was only a matter of time before they got back together. Love’s like that, you know? Even if it’s not what’s good for you or what other people think is right, it’s there.”
She guessed he was talking from his own experience. She wanted to ask more questions, but Georgie appeared and looped her arm through Scott’s. “Well, we need to officially start the food line, although some people rudely jumped ahead,” she chided. “Excuse us.”
“She’s a piece of work,” Jane said after they left.
Rory looked at her. “We agree on two things. I think Georgie Garritson is the most narcissistic person I’ve ever met.”
“Ooh, good word,” Jane cooed. Ari sensed the icy wall between them was melting.
Steve and Sam joined Georgie and Scott in line while Evan lagged behind, talking to a short Hispanic man in a dark three-piece suit. They followed and Evan introduced them to Juan Bojorquez.
“I guess Juan and I were rivals, vying for Nina’s employment.”
“Really?” Jane said, surprised. “I thought Nina loved working at the school.”
“She did,” he agreed, “but we couldn’t pay her what she was worth, and frankly, I think having to deal with people like Bobby Arco was wearing her down.”
“Was she really that afraid of him?” Ari pressed.
Evan nodded. “Oh, yes. We’d actually talked about a restraining order. If she decided to stay at Brayberry I promised I’d go to the judge.”
“How did you meet Nina?” Rory asked the other man.
Juan’s face turned stony. “She helped me with my daughter. She saved her life.”
She guessed Juan would do anything to help Nina. “When was she going to make the decision?”
The men exchanged a glance. “Two days after she died,” Juan said quietly. “I think she was going to take the job. She’d completed all of the paperwork, taken the drug test. She just wanted to be sure, especially considering the situation.”
Ari eyed him carefully. “What situation?”
Juan glanced at Evan, who turned red. Apparently he’d revealed a secret. “Nina was pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty
“That’s her,” Molly said, staring at the black-and-white head shot of Wanda Sells lying o
n the morgue slab. Even without her Lola makeup or wig and wearing the pallor of death, she recognized her talented lips and turned up nose. “How did she die?”
“Pushed off her balcony,” Andre said.
She dropped her legs into the shimmering blue water. They were poolside, Andre showing up just as she was finishing her daily routine with the chemicals and filter. The news of Lola’s death seemed anticlimactic, but she still felt vindicated and slightly pleased, or perhaps that was just a holdover from her previous afternoon with Sienna.
“Whoever did this wasn’t a pro,” he said. “Too sloppy, too many mistakes.”
“Like what?”
He told her about the moved railing, the missing glass and the wet coaster. “A pro wouldn’t have moved that railing, and he or she probably would’ve just shot her.”
“Not if it was supposed to look like an accident,” she disagreed. “I think your killer was trying to end the little drama with Lola.” He took out his notepad and started to jot down her thoughts. “I’m going to guess that this second woman was controlling her, but maybe she started to get greedy. Maybe she wanted more money or maybe she was threatening to go to the cops.”
He cocked his head. “Why would she do that?”
“Think about it. I don’t know what else she was into, but she didn’t break any laws with me, except giving me Ecstasy. She didn’t kidnap me, and she certainly didn’t drive drunk or destroy private property.” Realizing her voice was rising, she took a deep breath. “I did all that,” she said softly.
“So the killer needed her out of the way.”
She nodded and stood up. “She was a loose end and potentially very dangerous. Do you have any suspects other than Carnotti?”
“He could still be involved,” he said as they strolled to his Caprice in the parking lot. “Maybe he controls her handler and maybe it was the handler who killed her.”
She smiled proudly. “Those are distinct possibilities.”
