by Ann Roberts
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Table of Contents
Cover
Synopsis
Title Page
Copyright Page
Other Books by Ann Roberts
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
Cast of Characters
Preface
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
Epilogue
Postscript
Bella Books
Synopsis
The vibrant Phoenix art happening First Friday promises business and pleasure for Ari Adams. For one thing, moving on from the painful past she shared with Molly Nelson has brought a new woman into her life. But an old building with a body inside threatens the art community and implicates every member of the First Friday Council.
Hired to investigate and guard the FFC’s interests, Ari takes on the disquieting assignment at her boss’s request. Secrets at the Veteran’s Administration and human greed create a dangerous quagmire, and when the victim’s identity and the names of her employers are revealed, Ari realizes she has no one she trusts to help her—except Molly.
But working with Molly again would mean opening old wounds and risking the fresh start Ari thought that she wanted…
A Grand Plan is the latest in the Golden Crown Literary Award-Winning Ari Adams Mystery series by best-selling and Lambda Nominated Author Ann Roberts.
Copyright © 2015 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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
First Bella Books Edition 2015
eBook released 2015
Editor: Katherine V. Forrest
Cover Designer: Sandy Knowles
ISBN: 978-1-59493-463-6
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Other Books by Ann Roberts
The Ari Adams Series
Paid in Full
White Offerings
Deadly Intersections
Point of Betrayal
Furthest From the Gate
Keeping Up Appearances
Brilliant
Beach Town
Root of Passion
Beacon of Love
Petra’s Canvas
Hidden Hearts
The Complete Package
Acknowledgments
I am honored and humbled to have Katherine V. Forrest as my editor. When she makes suggestions, I take them. Always. Closer to home, I’m grateful to my friend Candace for her willingness to spend several First and Third Fridays exploring Roosevelt Row and Lower Grand Avenue. And without Linda Hill and the amazing team at Bella Books, I wouldn’t have reached number fourteen, or thirteen, or twelve…
About the Author
Ann Roberts is the author of the Ari Adams mystery series as well as several romances and works of fiction. A two-time Lambda finalist and winner of the Alice B. Medal, she received a 2014 Goldie for Point of Betrayal, Best Mystery. Ann lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her wife. Please visit her website at annroberts.net or on Facebook at Ann Roberts–Author.
For my wife, Amy
Cast of Characters
Ari Adams–real estate agent; part-time sleuth
Molly Nelson–CEO of Nelson security; Ari’s former lover
Lorraine Gonzalez–Ari’s boss; member of the First Friday Council
Ms. Wonders–victim; aka Carol (Care) Susan Kendricks
Jane Frank–Ari’s best friend
Dr. Yee–Molly’s therapist
Andre Watson–Molly’s former partner; detective with Phoenix PD
Yoli Soto–member of Molly’s security team and her current lover
Lev Rosenthal–businessman; president of First Friday Council, Lorraine’s boyfriend
Tony Sanchez–First Friday Council member; wants to renovate the Bali Hi
Sebastian King–First Friday Council member; owner of Roosevelt Apartments
Reverend Glass–First Friday Council member; pastor of Roosevelt Community Church on RoRo
Brooke Brown–member of the First Friday Council; owner of Brown’s Diner on LGA
Crosby Brunell–member of the First Friday Council; owner of the Eye Lounge on RoRo
Margaret Smith–executive assistant to Lev Rosenthal
Drew Sachs–member of Molly’s security team
Leon Lafayette–member of Molly’s security team
Denny–member of Molly’s security team
Chynna Grove–owner of the closed coffee house Scrabble on LGA
Maya Corbett–owner of MonOrchid Gallery on RoRo
Detectives Perkins and Flores–detectives assigned to Ms. Wonders’ murder case
Roosevelt Row–aka RoRo; the premiere art community in Phoenix
Lower Grand Avenue–aka LGA; the struggling art community
Preface
Bill Clinton was only trying to help. Jonny had always blamed him for their troubles but it wasn’t that simple. Care had tried to tell her he was just succumbing to the political pressure of an unbending opposition, but Jonny wouldn’t hear of it.
“You’re thinkin’ small, Care. He’s the Commander in Chief. The buck stops with him. Like people aren’t going to ask and I’m not going to tell. I’ll tell whoever I damn well please! Sure as hell wouldn’t have happened with Truman.”
When she’d told her it was the Truman administration that had written the first policies to discharge homosexuals into the Uniform Code of Justice, Jonny had waved her arms and walked away. She hated politics and thought all politicians were crooks except for “Give ’em hell, Harry.” Her father had been a Korean War vet who’d instilled in her an unflagging admiration for Harry Truman.
Otherwise she was convinced the government had assassinated JFK and was hiding aliens in Area Fifty-One.
“They’ll bring ’em out when they really need ’em,” she always said, shaking her finger. “Thought it might’ve hap
pened after nine-one-one, but clearly there’s somethin’ brewin’ we don’t know about. Somethin’ even bigger!”
When Jonny started spewing and spouting, Care just stayed quiet.
She readjusted her crooked RayBans and looked over her shoulder at the VA Medical Center. Jonny had thought the VA was full of the biggest crooks of all. She said there was a list of people they wouldn’t treat and she was on it. Maybe that was true.
She gazed up at the fiery ball overhead and started to hum softly. Noon. August. Thursday. Tomorrow was First Friday and that meant visitors. She needed to get back.
If I live to see the seven wonders…
She loved Fleetwood Mac and there was nothing that compared to Stevie’s voice. Sometimes she had the volume cranked up to ten, but right now it played at a four, a comfortable level for all those who’d ride the bus with her. A four meant the crazy was on the down low, but if it increased, Arnulfo would put her off the bus. He’d had to do it once before but never in August. And she didn’t have time. She needed to get on patrol. It was pie day.
No one else was on the bus bench, the two other riders choosing to stand rather than sit next to her. It was often that way. She sniffed an armpit. Even though it was a wicked hot day, she still smelled okay.
She reached into the front pocket of her shorts and pulled out the prescription bottle and her watch. Arnulfo was late. She hoped there wasn’t a sub driver. Subs never remembered to save her a seat, and subs had put her off the bus more than once. How many times had that happened?
She stared at the pill bottle with her x-ray vision. Shook them. It was one light. Why? She’d swallowed it or someone had stolen one. She shot a look at the middle-aged African American woman standing to her right. Her earbuds were in and she was reading something on her phone. Probably not her. The other suspect, a Hispanic teenager, leaned against the bus awning, his hands stuffed in his pockets, not making eye contact and minding his own business. Then she remembered the drinking fountain inside the VA. She smiled. Mystery solved. If I live to see the seven wonders…
* * *
She squeezed her eyes closed, picturing the little volume dial on her Hi-Fi. Turn it down. Daddy says it’s too loud. She heard the wheeze of the engine. She stood and craned her neck eastward as the bus rolled through the Seventh Street intersection and pulled up to the stop right in front of her.
“How ya doing, Ms. Wonders?” Arnulfo said with a wave. “I like your T-shirt.”
She glanced down at the four faces of the Beatles and gave him a thumbs-up. His jacket and cooler were spread across the two front seats behind him. She slid them aside and sat down.
“There’s an apple in the cooler if you want it,” he said, looking at her through the mirror above him.
“Thank you.” His wife had packed his usual PBJ, chips and a pickle. Jonny had loved PBJ. Care held the apple against her cheek. The cold felt so good. She pulled out Jonny’s Swiss army knife and sliced the apple in half. Jonny had scrawled a J and an H on the side of the blade in black marker. Sometimes she just liked staring at it. It helped her remember the day Petey showed Jonny how to protect her stuff.
As they headed west down Indian School Road, Arnulfo glanced up at her in the mirror. “I’ve got a question for you, Ms. Wonders, if you’re up for it. What was the one song written by all five members of Fleetwood Mac?”
“‘The Chain’,” she replied automatically.
“How do you know all of this, Ms. Wonders? You are a musical encyclopedia.”
He was smiling so she smiled back but she wasn’t sure why. She liked him. He looked out for her like Tony did. Tony. She pulled out her watch again. She couldn’t let him down.
Jonny wouldn’t approve of her playing detective. “Just stay under the radar, Care,” she’d say. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.” Jonny always gave advice she never followed. If she’d kept her mouth shut, she wouldn’t have been discharged and then she wouldn’t have been so depressed.
There was something standing in the corner of her mind, like the empty space by the breakfast nook. “Only burglars will hide there,” Jonny had said.
Darkness.
“Hello?” she called. She looked up. Feet dangling in the air. She screamed.
If I live to see the seven wonders…
A hand waved in front of her face. A gentle voice called from far away. Jonny?
“Ms. Wonders? We’re here. Time to get off.”
No, not Jonny. Follow the voice.
“Ms. Wonders, time to come back. I need to finish my route and this is your stop.”
The bus. She blinked and got off quickly before he could see her embarrassment.
“See you next week,” he called before he shut the door.
She waved and watched the bus pull away. She turned in a circle. Nothing looked familiar. Lenny’s Burgers. A Circle K. Food City. She looked up. Fifteenth Avenue. Roosevelt Street. Grand Avenue. Lower Grand Avenue. She started walking home.
If I live to see the seven wonders…
* * *
Her head throbbed. Probably her new dosage. Her young VA doctor had made the prescription too strong. Sometimes that happened.
“Your episodes seem to be getting worse,” he’d said. “Just now you were gone for five minutes. Where do you go?”
She couldn’t explain it. This was one of those headaches that had a name…what was it? She was so sleepy.
Now is not the time to sleep! It’s just a headache. No pain, no gain! A little softer, Sergeant Coombs. Please.
It was pie day. She needed to go. Why am I on the floor?
She touched the back of her head and held her fingers in front of her eyes. Why are they covered in paint?
Red. The color of death.
Oh, no!
If I live to see the seven wonders…
And before the darkness took her away she realized… I have.
Chapter One
Anyone studying a Phoenix map instantly located Grand Avenue, a diagonal slash across the simple grid system designed by the original city planners. The sprawling Valley of the Sun had since grown outward in every direction, leaving behind the parallel and perpendicular lines for winding roads and cul-de-sacs that snaked throughout gated communities in outlying suburbs such as Chandler, Scottsdale and Buckeye. Phoenix devoured five hundred and seventeen square miles and still Grand was the longest and most noticeable road on a map, its historic roots ending in downtown.
Ari Adams avoided Grand Avenue whenever possible. It was a grim reminder of one of the worst days of her life: the day her brother Richie was killed during a convenience store robbery. The store had sat on Grand Avenue. She’d only been twelve. Despite nearly twenty-four intervening years, every time her real estate business required her to cross Grand, memories of Richie interrupted whatever she might be thinking. The memories triggered a chain reaction of emotions Ari couldn’t control.
She felt them now.
Waiting to turn onto Grand, she glanced in the rearview mirror and realized she was frowning. She sat up straighter and glanced at her watch. It was nearing six o’clock and she was boiling in the 4Runner despite the continuous blast of cold air hitting her face and chest. August was like that. She’d removed her suit coat after her last appointment with a potential seller, and she longed to shed the rest of her clothes and step into her shower.
“I promised Lorraine,” she sighed.
She was meeting her boss Lorraine Gonzales at a commercial property. Lorraine had been cryptic with her explanation, stating it was a big opportunity and nothing else. Ari suspected Lorraine wanted to move her company, Southwest Realty, to Grand Avenue. Ari saw the obvious advantages, but she worried her fragile heart would endure a daily beating each day she drove to the office.
Since Ari rarely discussed her childhood with anyone, a time that brought her more pain than joy, Lorraine had no knowledge of her tragic history with Grand Avenue.
The light changed and she rolled across a brig
ht orange and green highway sign that announced her entry into historic Lower Grand Avenue, otherwise known as LGA. She crept along at ten miles per hour, her gaze ping-ponging from the west to the east side of the street. No one was behind her. Workers had just left the skyscrapers amassed at the south end of LGA, heading north to the suburbs of Peoria and Surprise. Most people who traveled Grand did so only to commute from their reasonably priced stucco tract homes to their downtown jobs. The road was a means, not a destination.
Still, it was obvious Lower Grand Avenue was trying. The expansion of First and Third Fridays to the LGA area guaranteed a steady stream of visitors strolled through the handful of galleries twice a month. A national movement, First and Third Fridays was a huge party, drawing people to artists’ communities for exhibit openings, live performances, great food and street vendors hawking their wares. LGA was part of First and Third Fridays, joining its larger and more established sister art community Roosevelt Row, aka RoRo.
There just aren’t as many draws to LGA as RoRo, Ari thought as she cruised down Grand. She pulled up in front of the abandoned Bali Hi. LOW RATES, NEW ROOMS and NOW OPEN still hung sadly from the graffiti-covered sign. A chain-link fence sagged around the property’s border, a feeble attempt to keep the criminal element away from the four dark buildings that comprised the old motel. She knew there was a plan to renovate the structure but it would take an incredible amount of money.
