by Roberts, Ann
Aspen chuckled. “Jane, honey, there’s no hiding great sex.”
She opened the door and frowned automatically. They had known each other too long not to recognize moods, and Ari looked totally dejected. “What’s wrong?”
“We had a fight. Nothing new.”
“Come in. Aspen was just leaving.” She watched Ari’s flustered expression as she processed the situation. Aspen smiled broadly and Jane realized the only thing missing was a postcoital cigarette. I could sure use one, she thought.
Ari looked at both of them. “God, I’m sorry. Did I get the wrong night?”
“No,” Jane said quickly. “Aspen just dropped by unexpectedly and now she’s got to go.”
“What about later?” Aspen asked as she shoved her out the front door.
“Not tonight,” she replied, slamming the door shut harder than she meant to. She took a deep breath, knowing she might have just blown a commission. Aspen would be furious. She turned to Ari and bit her lip. “Sorry.”
Ari just shrugged and looked at the floor. “Don’t be. At least one of us is happy.”
“Trust me. Aspen does not make me happy. Horny, yes, but not happy.” She put her arm around Ari and led her to the kitchen. She poured both of them a glass of Pinot Grigio and joined her at the pub table. “So what was it this time?”
She could see the hesitancy in Ari’s eyes. “Well,” she began with a breath, “Biz Stone called me this morning and asked me to go to the florists with her.”
“When did this happen? After we left the Y?”
Ari nodded.
“Why would she want you to go with her? I’m the victim, and I’m single.”
She shook her head. “Why is that important? I’m not single, but can’t I do things with other people? People who are single?”
The frustration in her voice was obvious. “So Molly didn’t think you should spend time with Biz?”
“It was a little more than that.” Ari told her the story of the afternoon and Molly’s reaction, which wasn’t surprising.
“Honey, it’s clear how Molly feels, and I know you feel the same way. You two are the most obvious couple I know, and now you’re frustrated. I’m surprised it’s not affecting your performance in the bedroom.”
“Well, it’s not,” Ari said defensively.
She took Ari’s hand. “Honey, maybe you just need to say the words first.”
Ari snorted in disagreement. “Jane, if I told her, she might self-destruct.”
Ari was a goner. She’d fallen hard for Molly, and now she was exercising amazing patience and restraint. Molly was a wonderful person, but she was very complicated. Jane doubted few women would wait so long for a reformed womanizer who was most likely an alcoholic. Secretly she wondered if Molly was worth the effort, but Ari loved her, she was her best friend, and she was a saint.
“Sweetie, what are you going to do? Be honest with me. Do you have any feelings for Biz?”
Ari sighed and swirled her wine. “I’ll admit that I think Biz is an interesting person. She’s intriguing, but I can be intrigued by a woman and committed to another. I love Molly.”
She smiled. Ari was the most genuine person she knew, and she hoped Molly knew how lucky she was. She patted her hand and stood up. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
“There’s a shock. You didn’t tell me you got more orchids.”
Jane noticed Ari was looking at the extraordinary arrangement of orchids sitting on the dining room table. It was enormous, filled with a variety of flowers in an exquisite crystal vase, including a single Angraecum elephantinum.
She grabbed her purse. “Those don’t count. That’s an arrangement from Izzie. She sent it as a thank you for our night together.” She took Ari’s arm and led her out. “Now, I don’t want to talk about Izzie. I want to focus on whatever you need to talk about to help you patch things up with Molly, and then we’ll talk about my problems, of course.”
“Of course.”
She pointed a warning finger at Ari. “All I know is that the two of you had better figure this out before Friday, and Molly had better behave herself. I’ve got a fabulous soiree planned.”
“Soirée? What kind of a word is that?”
“It means a fancy kick-ass party. And that’s what you’re going to get!”
Whenever Ari had a fight with Molly, she was reminded about the value of her friendship with Jane. They had so much in common—their careers, issues with their parents, a general fascination with people and their total distaste for phoniness. Yet they were opposites, and the balance added a complexity to the friendship that kept it interesting.
“So tell me more about Teri,” she said during dinner. She was sure Jane would change her outlook on relationships if she’d consider someone different.
Jane shrugged. “I don’t know that much about her. She came from back East, and none of her people live around here. She spends most of her time working, and she hates the bar scene. She’s amazing with anything around the house.” Jane glanced up from her swordfish with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you think Teri’s intriguing too?”
She scoffed at the notion and speared her asparagus. “I wasn’t asking for me, Jane. I think you should go out with her.”
Jane nearly choked on her swordfish. “I don’t think so. She’s totally not my type.”
“And Aspen is your type? Or Isabel?”
She waited until she had set her napkin back in her lap before answering. “Isabel is a classy lady—”
“Who just might be a stalker. That’s a great choice.”
“You don’t know that she’s the one.”
“She certainly could be. She was late for your date, possibly because she was waiting for you to leave your condo. Someone was there, Jane. If I hadn’t scared her away, I’m not sure what you would have found.” The weight of her comments halted the conversation momentarily and Jane focused on her food.
“I suppose you could be right,” Jane admitted.
“What’s going on with Aspen?”
Jane pointed her knife in Ari’s direction. “That’s just physical attraction.”
Ari shook her head. Jane was talking in circles and logic was nowhere in the middle. “Have you found a place for her yet?”
“We were supposed to go out this morning, but she canceled on me—”
“And showed up unannounced six hours later for sex?”
Jane shrugged. “Maybe she’s not serious about buying.”
“I think that’s a distinct possibility.”
“I mean, besides the sex part, she’s full of contradictions. You know how most buyers have certain ideas, and they may not have everything figured out, but there are certain features that are nonnegotiable? They want three bathrooms, or a den or a screened porch.”
Ari nodded. She knew the type. “So what does Aspen want?”
“That’s just it. One day she wants a two-story, and the next day she’d rather have a ranch-style with a basement. I can’t win. She is totally indecisive, and I’m beginning to think it’s a game.”
“Maybe it is. Now that you’re sleeping with her, she could be looking for a way to hold on to you.”
Jane’s face paled at the suggestion. Once again they had returned to the topic of Jane’s stalker.
“Did Biz check out Aspen? Does she belong to that gym next to Smiley’s?”
Jane snorted. “Of course not, and apparently she’s a regular at Smiley’s. She comes in a lot, and the bartender can’t remember if she came by that day, but it’s possible.”
Ari reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Honey, you’re playing with fire. Remember that.”
They finished their dinner without further mention of the orchids or the stalker by guessing what Jack Adams would purchase for Ari’s birthday. They were still laughing at the idea of a weight bench when they pulled into Jane’s driveway. Ari sensed something was wrong before they got out of the SUV. By the time they reached the ba
ck door, they looked at each other, both aware that something was burning.
“What the hell is that smell,” Jane said, ramming her key into the door lock. Nothing in the kitchen was disturbed, and as they headed into the living room, Ari knew they would find a fire in the fireplace. What she did not expect was a sea of white and green. The stems and leaves of orchids were everywhere.
“What the hell!” Jane exclaimed. “Who is doing this?”
“You need to call Biz.”
“Damn right.”
While Jane paced the room and stabbed at the keypad on her cell phone, Ari picked up a handful of the remains for inspection. What she held were stems and heads of a variety of orchids. Someone had deliberately hacked up dozens of flowers and left them strewn around the living room. She listened as Jane described the scene to Biz over the phone and disappeared into the kitchen. The clinking of glasses suggested Jane was pouring a glass of wine. Ari’s gaze immediately went to the dining room table. The arrangement of flowers was gone. She slowly turned toward the stairs. A trail of petals ascended the steps, in the direction of Jane’s bedroom. In any other situation it would have been highly romantic, but a weight fell on her shoulders and she dreaded whatever she would find. She climbed the steps and saw the string of flowers turn into Jane’s bedroom. The door was shut, and she took a deep breath before opening it.
The flowers ended at the foot of what was left of Jane’s bed. She could barely make out the purple pattern of the expensive duvet amid the flurry of down and feathers. Someone had ripped the mattress into tatters with a large knife, and in some places the cuts were so deep that the springs were exposed. She swallowed hard, recognizing that her friend’s life was in serious jeopardy, and for some reason, the stalker had turned violent. She guessed the person felt betrayed.
When she could finally pull her gaze away from the bed, she noticed that everything else in the room was untouched, but there was one noticeable addition. Sitting in the center of Jane’s wide oak dresser was the orchid arrangement that Isabel had sent. The stalker had placed it in a position of prominence, elevated above the bed, above the destruction. Her stomach turned over, and she heard Jane’s footsteps behind her. Before she could shut the door and shield her best friend from the sight, Jane was in the room, too stunned to speak.
“Long time no see, stranger,” a voice called.
Molly looked up from the bar toward Vicky, her favorite bartender at Hideaway. She nodded and Vicky placed a Scotch in front of her. “Good to see you, Vic.”
“I was missing my favorite tipper. I heard you ditched the bar scene for Ari Adams.” She offered a shrug but no explanation. Vicky smiled knowingly. “But I assume you’re here because you and your girlfriend had a fight or you’re no longer together. Which is it?”
One answer was right and the other was close, she thought. She drained her glass and set it before Vicky again. She didn’t discuss her personal life at the bar. Years of drinking had taught her that it was best not to make friends since you never knew what would come out of your mouth after a few Scotches. Vicky took the hint and silently refilled the glass. Once she had moved down the bar toward friendlier patrons, Molly pulled open her cell phone and checked the call history. Ari had called six times in the last few hours, but apparently she’d given up around nine thirty. She stared at the screen, a sliver of anxiety crossing her mind. She debated whether she should call her back. What if something was really wrong?
She dismissed her worries and glanced around the bar. Nothing much had changed in the last six months. Women huddled together, some as friends and others eager to become lovers. She saw the desperation on their faces and knew she had once been one of them—before Ari. All of the regulars were here, except the woman she had hoped to confront. She searched for Biz, and when she didn’t see the PI, her anxiety returned.
“Hey, Vic,” she called.
Vicky finished making a margarita and stepped in front of her. “Want another?”
Molly shook her head, realizing that what she needed was to go home and play the piano. She didn’t want to be in a bar. “Hey, have you seen Biz Stone tonight?”
Vicky looked around, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “That’s funny. She was here a while ago.” Vicky turned to one of the regulars perched on the corner stool of the bar. “Hey, Sammy! Where’d Biz go?”
“She left,” Sammy called back. “Got some phone call and ran out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tuesday, October 17th
9:17 AM
Despite going to bed around two o’clock, Ari awoke and was ready to head out by nine. She looked in on Jane, naked under the guest room covers. Her best friend was now her roommate indefinitely.
When Biz had arrived at Jane’s house and assessed the damage, she urged Jane to leave. Ari was surprised at how easily she agreed, vowing to put her place on the market once she could clear it out. The police arrived and took a report, urging Biz to find enough evidence for a restraining order against someone. They vowed to patrol Jane’s neighborhood diligently, and because Ari was Jack Adams’s daughter, she knew they would. Still, she imagined that finding the stalker would fall on Biz’s shoulders, a reality that provided comfort and anxiety at the same time. Ari still had not ruled out the possibility that Biz was involved, and she found herself scrutinizing the PI’s every move.
Ari reached for her purse and opened the door, nearly running into Biz. “Oh, gosh, sorry.”
“Good morning. How’s Jane?”
“Still asleep. I’m going off to work.”
Biz leaned against the doorjamb and hooked her thumbs into her jeans pockets. “I was hoping I could convince you to help me with this investigation today.”
She shook her head, determined to distance herself from Biz. “I don’t think so, Biz. I really have a lot to do.” She brushed past her and headed for the elevator as her stomach started to churn.
Biz followed behind and touched her shoulder. “Ari, are you angry with me?”
“No, of course not.” The elevator doors slid open and Biz joined her for the ride to the lobby. “It’s just that Molly’s cop buddies saw us together yesterday and didn’t waste any time telling Molly. Now she’s really upset with me.”
“Because the cops thought we were lovers,” Biz concluded.
“Probably.”
“And that would be a bad thing.”
Ari jerked her head around to meet Biz’s amused expression. “Biz, listen to me. I love Molly. I do like your company, but if we’re going to collaborate or be friends, you can’t keep coming on to me. Otherwise, I’m not going to have anything to do with you. Are we clear?”
Biz nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.” The door opened and before Ari could step into the lobby, Biz blocked her exit. “I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position with Molly. I didn’t mean to do that, really. But I’m going to be honest with you, Ari. I know what Molly sees in you, because I see the same things. I think you’re amazing, but I respect the fact that you’re with her. I’ll honor that. I won’t make any more suggestive comments.”
Her face softened and she offered a slight smile. “Thank you.”
Biz walked her to the SUV. “Now, I really could use your help. There are a lot of people to watch, and I’m not sure which direction is the right one. I’m leaning toward Isabel. I get a really odd vibe from her, but Aspen’s right there, too.”
Ari thought of the night before and the way Jane threw her out of the condo. “I would agree that she’s definitely at the top of the suspect list. She’s as obsessed with Jane as Isabel is.”
“Sounds like it.”
“And that orchid arrangement went untouched. It was deliberately moved to be noticed, but why put it there?”
Biz shrugged. “It could be that the stalker just wants to throw us off. Make us think it’s Isabel. I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know,” she added in frustration.
She leaned against the door, wondering if they were
missing other possibilities. “Jane has slept with so many people and left their feelings in the dust. Any one of them could be the stalker.”
“I guess that would make me a suspect too,” Biz said with a laugh.
Biz’s expression conveyed nothing, and it seemed as though she had made the remark in jest, but Ari wondered how Biz felt about Jane forgetting the encounter. When Jane had told her she was hiring Biz, she made no mention that she knew the woman or that they had shared a bed. Even when Jane saw Biz, there was no recognition. Could Biz be harboring some sort of desire for Jane? Or a grudge?
“I think we can probably cross you off the suspect list,” Ari said, hoping she sounded sincere.
“Thanks,” Biz said dryly. “Seriously, if you have any time and could help me research some of these women, it would be great. I’m handling three other cases in addition to this one.”
“Okay. I’ll see what else I can find out about Aspen, and you work on Isabel.”
“Excellent.”
Biz gave her a quick peck on the cheek and walked away. Ari shook her head. Biz could turn an innocent gesture into a flirtation, and Ari couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.
After two hours of meetings with prospective clients she gained from referrals, she decided the best way to learn more about Aspen was to go to the source. For lunch she headed over to Emerson’s, the restaurant where Aspen worked. Ari had never dined there since the prices were exorbitant. Now at least she had a legitimate excuse. She waited until the noontime crowd vanished, hoping someone would have time to talk with her.
She knew from the moment she crossed the threshold that the place was classy. The interior was impressive, resplendent with expensive furniture and plants tastefully displayed throughout. Emerson’s had a reputation as the premier dinner spot for yuppies and Ari’s initial reaction was that it lived up to it. Every detail from the monogrammed cloth napkins to the crystal highball glasses screamed expensive. She asked the hostess to seat her in the bar area, which was virtually empty. The bartender, a young brunette, was busy restocking after the lunch rush. Every once in a while she would glance toward the last two patrons as they nursed their drinks and watched sports on the muted TV that hung over the bar. Aspen was nowhere to be found, and Ari assumed she was in the back attending to her duties as chef.