by Roberts, Ann
She imagined things had changed because there was only one thing left to say. They had reached the apex of familiarity, their family histories explored, their pasts explained and their individual idiosyncrasies accommodated. She knew Molly cared only about her piano and nothing else she owned, and Molly had learned she was meticulous about everything. And now they sat on the ridge between dating and permanent commitment, and she sensed Molly wasn’t sure whether she wanted to move forward. In fact, Ari wasn’t entirely sure either. So they remained in this constant holding pattern, but she knew something had to change soon.
The front door closed and she heard Brian and Lynne’s voices greet the Nelson parents. She wondered if any fireworks were in store, since Brian and his father battled over most subjects posed at the Nelson dinner table. Brian was the true black sheep, and although this was his birthday, Ari wasn’t sure Don would be able to curtail the biting criticism that he often hurled at his youngest son. Molly was always the peacemaker, and despite the friction, Ari knew they loved each other. Don would never do to Brian what Jack Adams had done to her. She joined them and gave Lynne a hug.
“I love your blouse,” Lynne said, touching the cotton fabric. “The design is great. Whoever picked that out really knew what she was doing.”
They laughed at the inside joke, remembering their recent shopping trip to Scottsdale Fashion Square. Ari couldn’t decide what to buy and Lynne had made the decision for her. “Yes, my personal shopper has exquisite taste.”
The other adults returned to the kitchen and the family room, leaving Brian and Lynne with her. They grabbed the bottle of wine and glasses before settling on the patio. She curled up on the lounge chair and stared at the couple, cuddling on the swing. They were physical opposites, but their personalities complemented one another. Brian looked the part of a rebel, with his long blond hair, earrings and various tattoos. His appearance was a sharp contrast to Lynne, who was the epitome of class in a button-down pinstriped shirt, pressed chinos and brown loafers. Her dark curly hair barely touched her shoulders and framed a very pleasant face that perpetually smiled. She was only twenty-five, but she was the perfect combination of youth and maturity, possessing a bubbly disposition that was tempered by a level-headed mind. It didn’t surprise her that Lynne was slated to graduate at the top of her architecture class next year.
Brian grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. “How’s my favorite fellow Libra? I hear your party will be much wilder than this one,” he said with a wink.
Her eyes widened and she glanced from Brian to Lynne, who was already laughing. “What does Jane have planned?”
Brian smiled wickedly. “I’ll never tell.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed, admitting defeat. Jane had apparently sworn everyone to secrecy, and she would just need to pray.
“Hey, don’t worry, at least not too much. It’s going to be great.”
He looked to Lynne for confirmation, and she nodded. “Ari, I think you will approve of most of the festivities.”
“Most? What about the rest?” She sunk deeper into the lounge. Jane would do whatever she pleased because she was Jane. “I just hope you both aren’t totally embarrassed,” she said, wondering if after the party she would lose the two best straight friends she had ever had.
Lynne chuckled in response. “Are you kidding? I think it will be hysterical—”
“Shush,” Brian warned. “You’ll give too much away.”
“I’m surprised Jane has any time to plan this party since the whole orchid thing started,” Ari said.
Lynne set her wine on the coffee table and frowned. “Don’t tell me she got another one.”
Ari recounted Jane’s orchid troubles, and she was relieved to find that Brian and Lynne shared her cynicism about the meaning of the orchids. They agreed someone might be enamored with Jane and meant her no harm. As they walked to the dinner table, she felt better about sharing her thoughts with them and not worrying Molly, who didn’t need anything else on her plate. Dinner was uneventful, and Don only took one swipe at Brian’s ego, but a deadly look from his wife brought a quick retraction and the peace wasn’t disturbed again.
As Molly ascended the back steps, she heard laughter and not the sharp words of an argument. Either was possible anytime Brian and their father ate a meal together. She took a deep breath and entered, the smell of her mother’s fried chicken making her mouth water. “Hey, everybody,” she called, dropping her purse on the sideboard. She disappeared into the bathroom, and when she returned, she gave Brian a birthday hug and took the chair next to Ari. “Hi, baby,” she said, covering Ari’s mouth with a sweet kiss.
“Eww . . .” the kids whined, sending the adults into peals of laughter.
“I hope you’re not making some kind of a political statement,” Don Jr. said to Kenny.
Kenny cocked his head to the side, a piece of fried chicken grasped in his small hand. “Huh?”
Several of the adults began talking about the meaning of two women kissing in a straight society, but Molly’s attention remained focused on Ari, who watched the children intently, amused by their antics. She certainly seemed to enjoy kids. Whenever they visited, she was the one who never tired of reading stories, playing baseball or having tea with the dollies. She wondered if Ari wanted a child of her own, a thought she couldn’t fathom. She had not mentioned the subject. In fact there were many subjects she’d delicately sidestepped, too petrified to handle emotional intimacy. Physical intimacy was one thing, and with Ari there were no boundaries, but sharing her greatest fears and vulnerabilities was nearly impossible. She kept those buried deep inside a whiskey bottle. She remained quiet for most of the evening, enjoying her family and her beautiful girlfriend.
“Are you okay?” Ari asked once they had said their good-byes and headed into the night, both armed with leftover boxes from Teddy.
“I’m fine.”
Ari gazed at her intently, and Molly hoped her expression was convincing. She couldn’t handle all the questions that Ari would pose if she suspected her anxieties had surfaced. Ari naturally tried to reassure her every time she sensed Molly was questioning their relationship, and she found Ari’s concern equally annoying and helpful.
She took the easy way out and pulled Ari against her for a deep kiss. “Work was nuts, and I’ve missed you all day.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not now. Maybe later.” She walked Ari to her SUV. “So, it’s still early. Would you like to go to a movie?”
Ari shook her head. “No, there’s nothing I want to see.” She took Molly’s hand and kissed the base of her palm.
Molly grinned, content to play along. “What about a club? Would you like to go hear some jazz?”
“Nope.”
“Bowling?”
Ari smirked. “Too noisy and full of drunks.”
She pressed her against the driver’s side door and let her hands wander up the front of Ari’s blouse. “Coffeehouse?”
“Too public.”
“Drive-in?”
“Too outdoors.” Ari gasped as her thumb caressed the swell of her breast.
“Then what do you want to do tonight?” she whispered.
“You’re definitely on the right track.”
Chapter Eight
Sunday, October 15th
9:20 AM
When Ari awoke the next morning, she was alone. The phone had rung two hours before, and Molly jumped out of bed. She frowned, trying to remember what Molly said when she kissed her on the cheek and murmured good-bye—nothing like a Sunday morning of the FBI and missing informants to start the week. She rolled onto her back and gazed at the ceiling. Only hours before she’d had a similar view as Molly kissed her belly and let her lips wander southward. Ari’s cell phone chimed, interrupting the memory that was clearly taking hold of her body. She checked the display, hoping it was Molly and dreading to see it was J
ane. Given the hour, she doubted Jane was calling with good news.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Okay, now I’m really freaked out. Isabel called me six times last night. She’s psycho, Ari.”
She sat up in bed and tried to focus. “So what did she say?”
“First, she called to ask me what I liked to eat, you know, for our date. Then she called twice more with her own ideas. I can’t even remember why she called the next two times. By then I was a mess.”
She quickly calculated in her head. “I thought you said it was six times?”
“It was. The last time was a hangup. I answered, but she didn’t say anything. She was probably embarrassed.”
“Probably,” Ari said to ease Jane’s anxiety.
“I don’t know what to do. I really don’t want to go out with her, but I’m kinda afraid to say no.”
Ari ran her hand through her tangled hair and felt the beginnings of a tension headache. “Sweetie, you need to accept the possibility that Isabel is responsible for the orchids. She certainly has opportunity, and I’d say she’s definitely infatuated with you, which certainly gives her motive.”
“I don’t know. I was so sure it was a man.”
“Well, you certainly can’t date people out of fear. That’s really warped. I think you need to have a talk with her. Just be honest and tell her that you don’t want to see her.”
“But what if you’re right and she is my stalker? She might come after me with a knife or a gun.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. If you’re this worried, you need to hire a professional. Have someone watch Isabel, or watch you, to see if you’re being followed.” Ari wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee. Ever a darling, Molly had brewed a pot and left a sticky note with a heart on the carafe. “Have you slept with any private investigators?”
“Very funny, Ari.” Jane sighed. “Actually, I asked the receptionist at work and she gave me the name of a well-respected lesbian who does a lot of work in the community. She hired her when her deadbeat ex-husband skipped out on child support.”
Ari poured a steaming mug of magic and took her first sip. “Who is it?”
“Biz Stone.”
She knew the name. Biz had quite a reputation for enjoying female companionship, and it was very possible she and Molly had spent an evening together at some point in the past. “How well do you know her?”
“If you mean, have I ever slept with her, well . . . maybe. She frequents Hideaway, and I know who she is, but I don’t remember ever being with her.”
“Huh,” she added absently between sips.
“I already called her, and she’s meeting me for brunch, so I hope you can join us. I’m spending the morning previewing houses with Aspen. She swears she knows exactly what she wants now,” Jane said sarcastically.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“In what way?”
She laughed. Jane’s mind never strayed too far from the bedroom. “I mean, maybe you’ll find the perfect house and Aspen will want to write a contract.” A thought suddenly occurred to her. “What are you talking about?”
“Well . . .” Jane paused. “It’s just that Aspen has been coming on to me—”
“Excuse me? This woman is not the kind of woman you should date. She’s a nut.”
“But she’s a nut who makes an incredible flan. I went over to deliver some more listings, and she was preparing this divine meal. The smells from the kitchen were intoxicating, and she’s really a beautiful woman with an unbelievable body.”
“And how would you know this?”
There was a long pause until Jane finally said, “Okay. We’ve already been to bed. I broke my rule.”
“Again.” Jane had a rule about dating clients, which was as flexible as the Republican Party’s ethics. “So she made flan and you jumped into bed with her?”
“Well, it didn’t hurt that she answered the door in this little panty and bra outfit.”
Ari shook her head and opened the fridge. Inside Molly had left a bag of Einstein’s bagels with another sticky note heart. Her lover was scoring big points now. “Did she know you were coming over?”
“Yeah, I called from my car. You think her little seduction scene was planned? She told me she was just multitasking by cooking and trying on new clothes.”
She chuckled. “Of course it was planned, sweetie.”
“Oh. Well, anyway, what’s done is done. I’ll see you at twelve thirty, okay?”
“Okay. And Jane, are you and Aspen planning on seeing each other more often? What are her expectations now that you’ve slept together?” There was no response from Jane’s end, and Ari realized the list of potential orchid-senders could be growing. “Look, you don’t have to answer that. I’ll see you in a while.”
She hung up, hoping Jane was learning that her casual attitude about sex was probably at the heart of this problem. Sometimes she could be so blind, caught up in the easy world of pleasure. And not to recognize that she’d been set up was disturbing. For someone as experienced as Jane, her naïveté about the conniving demeanor of women was surprising, but then, Jane was exactly the opposite. There were never any hidden agendas or head games. She saw what she liked and took it. If she wanted to spend the night with a woman, she propositioned her, and she was always honest about her unwillingness to commit. Still, if Aspen Harper wanted Jane, how far would she go to have her?
Chapter Nine
Sunday, October 15th
10:10 AM
Sundays were always busy at Sky Harbor International Airport, particularly Terminal Four, where US Airways and Southwest Airlines shuttled all of the Zonies from Phoenix to Las Vegas or California destinations. The parking garage was full, all of the weekend vacationers still enjoying the San Diego weather or playing the slots on the Vegas strip. Phoenix officers and FBI swarmed the area, and the poor beat cop assigned to crowd control had his hands full with some irate fliers who wanted their cars back. Molly and Andre flashed their badges and ducked under the tape, watching the crime scene personnel assess the situation.
Connie Rasp stood with the medical examiner, past the open trunk of a dark blue Hyundai Sonata. Molly avoided the car, unsure of what she would see, and instead joined Rasp. “Detectives Nelson and Williams, I assume you know Dr. Haynes?”
“Good to see you again, detectives,” Dr. Haynes said.
Molly glanced at the balding man and nodded. It was certainly unusual to have an M.E. present at a crime scene, but the FBI involvement probably accounted for his presence. “Likewise,” Molly replied. She had worked several cases with Fred Haynes and found him to be highly competent and thorough. “So what happened?”
“The better question is what didn’t happen,” Rasp said. “Dudley Moon was shot, stabbed and beheaded. Somebody was definitely trying to make a point.”
Molly felt the guilt wrap around her, threatening to suffocate her. She should have insisted that she tail Itchy. She knew his habits, and he trusted her. That was part of his mistake, apparently.
“How long has he been dead?” Andre asked.
Fred Haynes narrowed his eyes and looked toward the trunk. “I’d say two days, but I’ll need to do a full autopsy first. Do you want to see the body before they remove it?”
Andre looked to Molly and she nodded slowly.
“Nelson, it’s okay to skip it,” Rasp said gently.
Molly could hear the kindness of her words, and she was sure Rasp noticed her reaction to Itchy’s death. Yet she didn’t want Rasp to think she was weak. “It’s no problem.” She went to the trunk, steeling herself for the worst, which until that moment had been the hanging of a small child by his meth-addicted father.
What she saw would stay with her for the rest of her life. Itchy’s beheaded body had been stuffed in the trunk, his head sandwiched between his legs, a clean bullet hole through his skull. His entire head was the color of an eggplant, and his mouth was open, as if he were trying to laugh.
His face was bloated, but she could make out a distinct indentation on his left cheek. She pulled her gaze away from Itchy’s face—to the knife plunged through his heart. A piece of paper rested on his chest, the blade fastening the paper against him. In a sick way it reminded her of a child with a note pinned to his shirt coming home from school. A single word written in blood told them everything they needed to know—TRAITOR.
Chapter Ten
Sunday, October 15th
10:30 AM
Before trekking out to Greenlawn Cemetery, Ari stopped at Trader Joe’s and picked up two beautiful bouquets of carnations, her mother’s favorite flower. She had no idea what Richie’s favorite flower had been since he had died so young and such subjects were not part of any discussion with a nine-year-old. She knew, though, that Richie had adored his mother, and most likely, if he had been asked, he would have turned to Lucia Adams and parroted any response she gave.
Her monthly visit to their graves wasn’t born of respect or guilt, but rather for the sake of connection, a bond that she cherished since she had no one else. She would never forgive her father—not completely. He had pushed her away into an abysmal pocket of fear by disowning her at twenty-one, abandoning her because she was gay. Her mother had been nearly helpless at the time, lost in one of her “episodes,” unclear of anything around her. Her entire mental state focused on controlling the pain from the cancer. Her mother had told her it was like staring at the head of a pin, where the slightest shift of attention caused her to fall back into the constant ache raging through her body. Such was her condition when Jack Adams told Ari to leave one evening. It wasn’t until three days later that her mother realized Ari was gone. She demanded to see her daughter, who refused to return home. As a result, when Lucia felt strong enough, she divorced Jack Adams and moved to Tucson to live with her sister and reestablish her relationship with Ari, who worked for the Tucson P.D. There she spent the rest of her days until she was returned to Phoenix to lie next to her son.