by Ann Roberts
“Have you spoken with her?” Bob asked casually.
She cleared her throat before answering. “No, and I don’t anticipate needing to see her again.”
Bob laughed heartily. “Come on, Detective. You’re probably a good cop but you’re not going to win an Oscar.” Molly looked away, her emotions beginning to swirl. Bob leaned over and patted her knee. “Let me tell you a story, okay?” Still unable to look him in the face, Molly nodded.
“The day that Ari told her parents she was gay, her father disowned her and gave her twenty minutes to pack up and get out. When I got home from work, I found her in our apartment, sobbing in Lily’s arms. We let her stay in the guest room, but Lily sensed that Ari was in deep trouble. Lily was a psychology major in college and she would have been a damn good shrink if she’d ever finished,” he added. “Anyway, what you need to know about Ari, Detective, is that she’s methodical, an incredible planner. The third night she was there, we went to bed, leaving her on the couch watching TV. I remember it was winter, and it was cold. Ari was wrapped up in a blanket, her legs tucked underneath her. She looked so small and fragile.”
He took a breath before he continued. “We said good night and went to bed. I stayed up reading for a while, but by eleven thirty, I was ready to fall asleep. I remember turning the light out and lying in the darkness, but I couldn’t close my eyes. I felt something was wrong, like I’d forgotten to do something like lock the door. It was just a dumb feeling. Anyway, I tried to shrug it off, because I really was very tired, but it kept me awake. I got out of bed and went to check on Ari.” He stopped and stared at Molly, his face solemn. “To this day, I can’t tell you why I got up. I can’t tell you why—I just knew something was wrong.” Molly guessed what was coming. “She was unconscious, Lily’s sleeping pills and my bottle of vodka on the bed.” His voice cracked and he took Molly’s hand. “She was so damn smart. She’d spent two days planning this, finding Lily’s pills. The doctor said she took just the right amount.” He gave a halfhearted laugh. “You know, Ari’s not one to waste anything. If she could kill herself with ten, why take twenty? She almost died, she wanted to die. If I hadn’t gotten up . . .” His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes. “She was only twenty-two.”
Molly thought of Ari’s words on her patio. “So she owed you,” Molly summarized.
Bob shook his head. “It’s never been about owing me anything. I’d do it again for her. I’d do anything for her. If she’d told me that I had to turn myself in, I would have done it.”
“But she didn’t,” Molly said, both of them fully understanding her point.
Bob let it go and held up his hands for emphasis. “Here’s the thing, Detective. You never stood a chance against me.” Molly’s face colored at Bob’s superior attitude. “Ari has a tough time letting people get close. Everyone she’s loved has abandoned her in one way or another—except me. Her track record with women sucks, and every time she breaks up, it’s old Bob to comfort her. You never stood a chance.”
“Lucky you,” Molly snorted, making no attempt to hide her hurt.
“No, lucky you,” Bob retorted. “Most of her girlfriends were losers, never knew what they had—especially her last one, Trina. That bitch was a golddigger who just wanted Ari’s money. Did you know Ari’s rich?”
“No, we never talked about it.”
“She’ll be a millionaire by the time she’s forty, if she takes my advice,” he said with a wink.
“Good for her,” Molly replied, unimpressed.
“Doesn’t sway you?” he asked, rising to leave.
Her eyes narrowed at the baiting comment. “It offends me. Money isn’t an issue for me in relationships.”
Bob’s eyes twinkled. “Well, then I guess Ari’s lucky that you’re in love with her,” he said, walking out the door before Molly could protest.
The hospital corridor reeked of ammonia and wet streaks lined the linoleum. Molly automatically gripped the vase tighter and checked the floor beneath her. The last thing she needed was to wind up in a hospital bed herself. The repeated ding of the elevator announced its descent. She turned to the information, desk, debating whether to just leave the flowers with a note. She was just about to chicken out when the doors opened and its passengers filed out around her.
“Well, well, Detective Nelson. Imagine meeting you here.” Molly nearly dropped the flowers at the sight of Jane holding open the elevator door with her arm. “Going up?” Molly nodded absently, repositioning her hands around the vase. Jane stared at Molly, her finger perched on the “door open” button, her lips tightly shut. All Molly could do was join her in the moving prison. The doors closed and Jane hit the stop button. The elevator and Molly’s stomach both lurched at the same time. Jane leaned back against the fake paneling, her arms folded across her chest.
“So is this a peace offering?” Jane asked, motioning to the flowers.
“I just wanted to see how she’s doing,” Molly said. Her eyes met Jane’s, and she blinked. The woman’s face was taut, her green eyes on fire.
“I hope you’re planning on apologizing,” Jane said frankly.
“For what?” Molly blurted. Although she was very worried about Ari, her pride wouldn’t allow her to forget that Ari had lied to her.
Jane raised an eyebrow and her lips curved into a smug smile. “Ari’s not the only one who’s hidden something this week, has she, Detective?”
General bewilderment spread across Molly’s face. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I saw you at Hideaway with the redhead,” Jane said.
Molly’s chin dropped to her chest, and she caught a strong whiff of the blooming lilies. “I guess she won’t see me then, will she?” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, and she stared at the flowers.
“I didn’t tell her.”
Jane watched Molly’s crestfallen face register the fact. “I’m not one to judge. I was there, too, and I certainly didn’t sleep in my own bed that night.” Molly’s arms tightened around the vase and she closed her eyes. Jane stepped toward her and stroked one of the lily petals with her lacquered nails. “You and I aren’t like Ari.” Molly looked at Jane, realizing how right she was. “Have you been tested?” Jane asked.
“Yes, recently,” Molly nodded adamantly.
The muscles of Jane’s face relaxed slightly. “Good. The idea of Ari contracting anything . . .” She stepped back and pressed the elevator button, both of them listening as the elevator strained to ascend again. The doors opened at the eighth floor, and Molly hesitated, wanting to thank Jane, but not knowing how. She stepped out of the elevator and turned around.
“If you want her back, you had better not do anything to make her unhappy.” The tone in Jane’s voice was unmistakably deadly. Although Molly was almost a foot taller and could have cast a shadow over Jane’s entire body, she was intimidated by the slight woman whose loyalty was unwavering. Molly stood there mute for a full minute after the doors had closed on Jane’s words.
She found Ari’s room and held her breath as she walked through the doorway. Relief and disappointment overtook her at the sight of the beautiful woman sleeping. She set the vase on the nightstand, careful not to make a noise, and turned to the bed. The sight of Ari’s bandage protruding from her hospital gown brought tears to Molly’s eyes, and she instinctively stroked her hair in comfort. Standing there, her heart pounding in her chest, she knew Bob’s last words to her were true, but it would be a long time before she admitted her feelings to Ari or anyone else. She leaned over and kissed Ari’s forehead gently.
Soft footsteps crossed the tile, but Ari couldn’t open her eyes. Maybe it was a dream. The medications were working—she couldn’t focus, but she could smell the musk that hovered in the air. Molly. As the footsteps retreated toward the door, Ari opened her eyes in time to see Molly depart, her head down and her shoulders hunched. She looked beaten down, and a wave of sympathy swept through Ari. She opened her mouth to call out, but Molly was go
ne. Or was it a dream?
Noises from the hall drew Ari’s attention to the doorway. Two children scampered past, their laughter prompting a sharp reprimand from an elderly woman who hurried by after them. A young couple trailed behind, armed with balloons and flowers. The woman glanced into Ari’s room, her face already molded into a sympathetic expression. It was the same face Ari wore whenever she walked into a hospital. The suffering was all around, amidst the white gowns, IV drips and beeping machines.
Ari had never been hospitalized before, not even as a child. How she managed to avoid breaking a bone, needing stitches or even cracking open her skull, amazed her parents. In fact, Ari had never crossed a hospital’s threshold until three days after her twelfth birthday—the day her mother entered the hospital for chemotherapy and her first of three bouts with cancer. Hospital visits became routine, and her mother’s illness remained the most vivid memory of her teenage years. When the cancer finally took her mother’s life, Ari avoided hospitals, and she had never again been inside one except for the unexpected visit to the emergency room following her attempted suicide. Even then, she refused to be admitted.
The drugs were definitely working, numbing the pain in Ari’s shoulder. Thanks to Bob’s quick actions, she’d been in surgery within thirty minutes of being shot, and she would make a full recovery. She closed her eyes to shut out the last few hours, the confrontation with Kristen, the pain, Jane’s worried face, an empty hospital room.
A long time ago Ari had made a deal with herself on the advice of a therapist. She could think of her mother for twenty minutes a day, but no more. To dwell on the past would send her into a deep depression—of this she was sure. She’d been there before. Usually if she thought of other things, her mother’s image would fade, a fact that gave Ari relief and shame at the same time. Today, though, the other thoughts were too horrible, and her mother, and surprisingly, her father, filled her mind. Maybe it was the meds. Maybe it was the hospital. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was because she was totally alone.
Ari’s gaze shifted to the nightstand and the beautiful arrangement of lilies. Tears streamed down her cheeks and it befuddled her. In the last two hours she’d faced a murderer, been saved by her best friend, and in her mind, abandoned again by her family. Yet, a vase full of flowers made her cry. She couldn’t understand it. A tiny white envelope protruded amongst the lilies. Ari plucked the card from the plastic holder and stared at the short message:
I’m sorry. Can we forget the last week and try again?
Ari smiled. Suddenly she didn’t feel so alone. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Molly’s cologne and thinking about the future. When the phone rang, it was tempting to ignore it. The medications were really taking hold and Ari was ready for sleep again. Still, she found herself reaching for the receiver out of habit.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was immediately recognizable, although she could barely understand what he said, the poor connection and his distress garbling his words. When he finally took a breath from his harangue, Ari paused and smiled before she spoke.
“I’m okay, Dad.”
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
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