White Offerings

by Roberts, Ann

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Publications from Bella Books, Inc.

  Copyright © 2008 by Ann Roberts

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

  First Edition

  Editor: Christi Cassidy

  Cover designer: LA Callaghan

  ISBN-10: 1-59493-121-6

  ISBN-13: 978-1-59493-121-5

  Acknowledgments

  I’ll admit my ignorance about many things, and I’m indebted to those who know more than I—

  LC for her knowledge of police work

  My buddy Abe for his techno-savvy

  Linda Hill and everyone at Bella for their support

  Christi Cassidy who makes my writing better each time our paths cross

  Amy, who teaches me about myself, love and so much more

  This one’s for Alex, my son, the future budding writer. Someday you’ll be old enough to read your mother’s books.

  No, not yet.

  About the Author

  Ann Roberts is a lifelong educator who lives in Arizona with her family. She is the author of Paid in Full, Furthest from the Gate, Brilliant and Beach Town. She can be reached at annroberts.net.

  Chapter One

  Saturday, October 14th

  2:13 AM

  The sound of pounding feet grew louder and meant one thing—he was closer. She willed herself to move faster, cursing the tight skirt and stiletto pumps that slowed her down. He sloshed through several puddles on the dark street, ones she’d avoided just moments before. She realized he’d already turned the corner and she was in view. A narrow alley lay ahead, illuminated by a naked, yellow bulb that hung over a massive steel delivery door.

  She’d wheeled to her right heading toward the alley when her heel settled into an ancient pothole. She gasped and lurched forward. Gravity demanded she fall, ending the chase and her life, but she fought to stay upright, her strong legs and back preventing a collision with the concrete. She increased her speed again, but her ankle screamed in pain. The misstep cost her valuable seconds, and she knew he was gaining on her. Resisting the urge to look back, she pumped her arms harder and entered the black mouth of the alley. Darkness lay ahead and there was no way out. At any point she could careen into a brick wall or fence, but the alternative was worse.

  Her ankle throbbed and her feet slowed. He was right behind her, his heavy breathing audible. If she could reach the end of the alley, a sliver of hope existed. She lengthened her stride and felt a hand graze her shoulder. She cried out and lunged forward. He reached for her again, this time grabbing some strands of hair, but she kept going. And then the pavement beneath her disappeared.

  Jane’s eyes flew open and she gasped, a spasm of terror shooting through her body. The one-night stand sleeping next to her didn’t awaken. She glanced at the window and the slash of moonlight illuminating the bedroom. She sat up slowly, her head lolling between her knees. She knew before she looked at the nightstand that the digital display on her clock would show it was somewhere around two. Sure enough, it was 2:13. When her heart rate returned to normal, she rose from the bed, realizing this was the third nightmare in less than a week. She moved toward the window, conscious she was naked but comforted by the bright full moon.

  She saw it instantly, haloed by the nearby streetlight. A white orchid lay on her front walk.

  Chapter Two

  Saturday, October 14th

  7:55 AM

  A shrill ring ripped Ari from a deep sleep. She dislodged herself from Molly’s strong arms and reached for her cell phone. “Ari Adams.”

  “God, Ari, I’m sorry to call this early, but I waited as long as I could. I’ve been up since two this morning, so I figured if I wake up my best friend at eight on a Saturday, after sitting in my condo for six terrifying hours already, then I’m still being rather considerate, don’t you think?”

  She rubbed her eyes, still half asleep. “Sweetie, slow down. I can’t understand everything you’re saying.”

  “I got another orchid during the night. Somebody left it on my front walk, and now I’m totally freaking out.”

  “Oh, no. Okay, honey. It’s okay.”

  Molly sat up, her face full of concern.

  She covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Jane got another orchid.”

  Molly shook her head and fell back against the pillow. “She needs to hire a PI.”

  She stroked Molly’s blond curls as Jane continued to rant. While she loved Jane dearly, it was difficult to know whether a true emergency existed or if her melodramatic nature was responsible for the quake in her voice. Jane continued to barrel through her description while Molly kissed each of Ari’s fingertips, and she struggled to focus on the conversation. She knew it would only be a matter of seconds before Molly began sucking on each one, an act of foreplay she couldn’t resist.

  “Ari, what should I do?” Jane moaned.

  Molly’s lips closed around her middle finger, and Ari swallowed a sigh. “Jane, why don’t we meet at my office at ten? I’m not having an open house today, but I have to go in to do some paperwork. We can have some coffee and talk, okay?” She hoped she didn’t sound too rushed.

  “Wait a minute,” Jane said suspiciously. “Are you with Molly? You are, aren’t you? You guys are doing it. Holy shit, Ari! I’m trying to talk to you about my potential murder, and you’re getting it on with your girlfriend.”

  She took a deep breath. “Jane, there’s nothing I can do right now. Give me a couple hours and I’ll help you figure this out. I promise. If it takes all day, we’ll work on it, okay?” She knew the prospect of spending a whole day together while talking about herself would definitely appeal to Jane.

  Jane sighed. “Fine. I just hope that I’m not kidnapped or tortured between now and then. You’ll feel really bad if my maimed and mutilated body goes undiscovered for weeks.”

  “No, I’d find it before then. I’ll see you in a few.” Before Jane could respond, she flipped her phone shut and tossed it on the nightstand. She retreated back into Molly’s pleasurable embrace, savoring the gentle kisses Molly planted on her collarbone.

  “I t
ake it Jane is upset.”

  “Yes, this is the fourth orchid that someone has left. I’m beginning to get a little worried about this.”

  Molly’s expression sobered, and much to Ari’s dismay, she sat up on her elbow. “Tell me again, when did this start?”

  “About two weeks ago. She found the first one in her cubicle at work. She didn’t think anything of it. She thought maybe a grateful client had left it. She’d closed a few deals that week, and she assumed it was from one of them.”

  “Did she check that out? Make some phone calls?”

  Ari shook her head. Molly stared at the far wall, lost in her thoughts. She knew Molly was moving deeper into cop mode, and once Detective Molly Nelson fully crowded her entire persona, she might as well get out of bed and start the day. “Jane hasn’t done anything proactive. She just has her suspicions.” She snuggled against Molly and kissed her cheek, allowing her hands to roam across her body. “I really don’t want to talk about Jane anymore. I’ll help her figure it out later.”

  Molly cupped Ari’s face in her hands. “You need to promise me that you won’t do anything dangerous.”

  She bit her lip. She’d nearly been killed a few months before, and while she doubted she would ever face that much danger again, she knew Molly was overly cautious about her life. She stared into Molly’s crystal blue eyes. “I’ll be careful.” It would be the perfect opportunity to share her feelings, but she knew Molly wasn’t ready to hear the words.

  Molly kissed her and smoothed her hair. “I just . . . well, I worry.”

  She knew it was the closest Molly would come to voicing her feelings. “I know.”

  A look of relief crossed Molly’s face. “She needs to hire a PI. The police won’t do anything because technically no crime has been committed.”

  “I promise I’ll suggest that to her when I see her,” she said, quickly dismissing Jane’s problems. She would spend the day with Jane, but right now she was in bed with Molly, who also was slated to work a stakeout in a few hours. It was a step toward promotion, and it meant Molly would spend more time on the job. She was not going to waste precious moments of intimacy on other matters. She rolled on top of Molly and made sure the next hour was quality time.

  Chapter Three

  Saturday, October 14th

  9:28 AM

  Molly parked the Chevy Caprice along the curb across from the industrial office park. Her partner, Andre Williams, handed her a black coffee and reclined the passenger seat to accommodate his lanky frame. Neither of them spoke; they had exhausted all small talk yesterday afternoon. Today was their third day in a joint stakeout with the FBI, and although other officers had told her that this operation, which had accidentally fallen into her lap, was a key to promotion, the waiting was killing her. She glanced at Andre, who looked more like a Wall Street financier than a cop in his well-pressed, dark gray suit and perfectly knotted tie. She surveyed her own appearance. It was a Saturday and for her that meant business casual—jeans, button-down shirt and a sports blazer. She’d grown accustomed to their fashion differences and she had accepted, for the most part, that he would always look more professional.

  She sipped her coffee and gazed through the windshield at the brown metal door that had become the center of their lives for the last few days. The FBI was sure that New York crime lord Vince Carnotti was running his Arizona drug operation through this nondescript industrial office complex that sat just south of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. The Cactus Airpark was a lookalike for the six other facilities that lined Mohave Road. It was the ideal place to go unnoticed since the tenants’ hours varied and traffic was inconsistent. A plane could glide through the large double doors that were common to each building, and she knew these establishments were ripe for hiding whatever, or whoever, didn’t want to be seen.

  The radio squawked and the familiar voice of Connie Rasp, the lead field agent for the detail, warbled through the static. “Nora twenty-six, come in.”

  Molly grabbed the microphone. “Go ahead.”

  “Morning. You guys got anything out there?”

  “Negative.”

  Rasp sighed. “Nothing here either, and no sign of your informant. Hang tight.”

  Molly frowned. “Copy.”

  “That’s not good,” Andre said.

  She swallowed hard and tried to push aside the worry that crept into her mind. Dudley Moon, known as Itchy on the street, was one of her informants and the reason she and Andre had become involved with the feds. He had been busted ten days ago for fencing stolen goods, and when the arresting officers found a pound of cocaine in the pocket of his army jacket, he refused to talk to anyone but Molly. He had insisted he wasn’t running drugs, but he was vague about the details, except that the drugs belonged to the Carnotti family. She convinced him to make a deal, knowing he wasn’t the prison type. A small, skinny man who looked like a teenager even though he was almost thirty, he knew he’d be somebody’s slave within the first week of incarceration. Self-preservation and a belief that the government could protect him drove Itchy to become a snitch.

  Apparently when Special Agent Connie Rasp saw Molly’s interview tape, she was impressed and immediately asked Molly and Andre to join her two-year-old investigation of the Carnotti family. Itchy was the first person willing to cross the Carnottis in over a year, and Rasp had told Molly that she needed him to stay alive and testify. Her last witness had conveniently crashed into the guardrail of a bridge in Newark when the brakes of his car went out.

  Now Molly worried that Itchy might be in danger. She had asked permission to follow him herself, but Rasp had insisted the fibbies take that responsibility, and Molly and Andre were relegated to watching the brown metal door, the place where Itchy said he would bring Carnotti’s associates.

  “What time is Ari’s birthday party?” Andre asked.

  “We’re getting there around eight thirty, so you could come at eight.” She looked at her partner, whose hand tapped the doorframe to a rhythm he heard in his head. “You know, this party might get a little wild. I mean, it’s mostly lesbians.”

  Andre chuckled. “You think a handsome black man can’t handle a room full of gay women? I’ll bet you that at least one of your sisters swings both ways, and she and I will leave together, or I’ll meet one of your few straight friends who’s looking for a man.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Andre turned in his seat and pointed at her. “I will bet you lunch for a week that I hook up with a fine woman at your girlfriend’s party. You wanna take that bet?” He held out his hand to shake.

  She met his grip and smiled. “I don’t mind eating pastrami on rye from Duck and Decanter for a week. You’re on.”

  “And no coaching your friends, either,” he added. “Keep it aboveboard.”

  “No problem.” Molly glanced at the door, which remained closed with no activity around the building. Every parking space was vacant and no one entered or exited through the front gate. In fact, she had not seen a single car pass by the other buildings. Typical Saturday morning, she thought. But when she reviewed the past two days, she realized they had seen few vehicles and only two or three people. She assumed that many of the buildings were vacant, as evidenced by the handful of real estate signs that lined the fence. Yet, now she wondered.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that there’s no one here?”

  Andre shrugged. “It’s Saturday morning. I think this is probably normal.”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t much different from the workweek. There’s been hardly any action. We saw a few cars, but this place is too quiet.” She got out and strolled across the street, Andre following behind.

  “Mol, what are you doing?”

  “We need to check this out. Did the fibbies think to run the water bills on these buildings?”

  “I don’t know. They told us to sit in the car and watch the door, which you’re not doing, by the way.”

  She ignored his protes
ts and strolled past the huge double doors, stopping in front of the main office. She peered between the partially closed slats of the cheap vertical blinds, expecting to see a reception area with a desk and chairs, but instead she saw an empty room, bits of paper scattered on the floor and the phone wires hanging out of the wall. “Shit. Take a look.”

  Andre stepped to the glass while her temper flared. They had wasted two days of their lives. He looked up, a puzzled expression on his face. “What’s going on?”

  She stalked across the asphalt to the next building, in view of the other detail assigned to watch the industrial park. She knew it wouldn’t take long before Connie Rasp was calling her. She found another window. The inside was the same—down to the hanging phone wires. She headed toward a third building, where she was sure she’d seen a visitor during the week. She peered through the glass and saw a disaster. The furniture was still there, but an entire filing cabinet had been overturned and files lay strewn all over the floor. She imagined someone had broken in or had left in a hurry.

  “This is a setup,” she said to Andre. He looked through the window just as her radio squawked.

  “N twenty-six! What the hell are you doing?”

  “There’s nothing here. The whole place is empty. They knew we were coming and they got out.” Molly waited for a reply, and when she heard nothing, she knew Connie Rasp was already in her car and barreling over to the airpark.

  She and Andre had just returned to their vehicle when Rasp’s unmarked Ford pulled up beside them. She was out the passenger’s side before the car made a full stop. A well-built, handsome African-American woman who was shorter than Molly by six inches, she stepped into Molly’s physical space, her anger palpable.

  “What the fuck are you doin’, Nelson? Who do you think is running this investigation? Who told you to move your ass out of your car? Was it you?” She pointed her finger at Andre, who shook his head fiercely. “This is what I get for working with locals.” She placed her hands on her hips, her lips pursed, and waited for Molly’s reply.