White Offerings

by Roberts, Ann

  Her cell phone vibrated across her desk, and she realized that she’d forgotten to turn on the ringer after she finished with the Fergusons. “Hello?”

  “Hey, babe.”

  Ari smiled at the sound of Molly’s voice. “Hey, yourself. What’s going on?”

  Molly sighed. “We’re going through files and trying to find leads. Um, I spoke to your dad last night.”

  Ari froze in her chair. “You did?”

  “Yeah. Sol told me to call him about that case you mentioned. He was really helpful.”

  “Oh.”

  “Ari, I hope I’m not freaking you out. I just thought I should mention it in case your dad brings it up during one of his phone conversations.”

  “You didn’t say anything about us, did you?” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she instantly regretted her tone.

  “Would that be so wrong?” Molly asked defensively.

  “That’s not what I meant, baby. You know that I intend to tell him about you, but he’s not ready to hear it. He can’t even figure out what to do about my birthday. You understand, don’t you?” There was a long pause, and Ari could hear the police personnel in the background going about their day.

  Molly sighed. “Yeah, I get it. I really do.”

  It was time to change subjects. “When will I see you tonight?”

  “Probably later. I have to do a little shopping for somebody’s birthday.”

  Ari smiled. She was off the hook. “Later is better than never. Are you coming to my place?”

  “Won’t Jane be there?”

  “Not until after midnight. You know she’s a total night owl, and she’s finishing the party plans with Lynne.”

  Molly chuckled. “Okay, I’ll see you around nine.”

  “Great. See you then.” Ari flipped the phone closed, thinking how easy it would have been to add I love you at the end of their good-bye. Her stomach rumbled and she decided to check her e-mail and run out for a bite. She whipped out a few quick responses to some of her clients’ questions, most asking about the status of their transactions. She clicked on an unknown address with Happy Birthday on the subject line and was surprised to see a greeting card appear. She smiled, wondering which of her friends had remembered her birthday. A green button appeared on the screen and she clicked it to start the card, suddenly wishing she could rewind the action as she did it, since it occurred to her that she didn’t recognize the address. The background turned to black and a white orchid materialized on the screen. She swallowed hard as the orchid grew in size until it filled the frame. Her attention was drawn to the center, where a speck of blood emerged and dripped down the petal. Almost as quickly as it had appeared, the entire picture dissolved and the e-mail disappeared. She found herself staring at her e-mail list again and wondering about the strange address. Gone was the original e-mail as well, and she doubted she would ever remember the address.

  Her heart was beating fast as she picked up her phone and dialed Biz. The detective answered on the second ring. “Stone.”

  “Biz, it’s Ari. Somebody just sent me a really weird e-mail card.” She described the orchid and its disappearance from the screen.

  “Do you remember anything about the address?”

  “It was a series of letters and numbers, like something you would pick for a bank password, not anything you would want people to remember.” She clicked into her Deleted folder and couldn’t find it. “I assumed it was just one of those cute cards from the American Greetings Web site,” she explained, suddenly feeling very stupid.

  “It was encrypted and it was programmed to disappear after you read it, so it didn’t leave a footprint. Whoever set it up really knows computers.”

  Ari thought of flowerpower. “You seem to know a lot.”

  “Some. I design my own Web site, and I took a few community college classes. I met this guy whose nickname is H.D., for Hard Drive. Don’t ask what it means. He was the ultimate hacker, and he showed me a lot of tricks that have helped with my business.”

  “So do you think there’s any way to trace where it came from?”

  “Probably not. You might be able to run a Restore and find the e-mail, but my guess is that this person used a proxy server, which means that even a guy like H.D. would need a few weeks to dig around and find the original sender.”

  “Do you think this was some sort of virus? Is it going to harm my computer?”

  “Not necessarily. I’m more concerned that you received it. I think it’s fair to assume that whoever is stalking Jane may have fixated on you as well. Have you told Molly?”

  Ari took a breath and realized she had erred. She should have called Molly first. This was a threatening message, and Molly would want to know. Yet she knew how busy Molly was with her FBI investigation, and she didn’t want to worry her, especially since it was probably nothing, and she wasn’t in any real danger. “I called you first about it since you’re on Jane’s case,” she said, hoping she sounded logical. She really couldn’t explain why she’d dialed Biz’s number automatically.

  “So you haven’t told Molly.”

  “I’ll tell her later. Look, Biz, what do you make of this?”

  “I’m not sure, but somehow you’ve managed to catch the stalker’s attention, possibly because Jane’s living with you now. It could be that the stalker sees you as a threat, someone who could take Jane away from her.”

  What Biz said made sense. “Am I in danger?”

  “Honestly, you might be, Ari. Getting a blood-dripping card on your e-mail isn’t a good sign, and you should start an antivirus program immediately. I can come over and do that for you.”

  “Okay,” Ari agreed, pleased at the idea of seeing Biz again for a professional reason.

  “What happened at Jane’s condo was an act of violence. Whoever is doing this is clearly getting very frustrated. I don’t think we’ll have to wait much longer for her to show herself. I’m thinking I need to shift my focus. I need to watch you.”

  She was grateful Biz couldn’t see her face, which was burning and no doubt beet red. “Are you sure that’s necessary?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

  Biz’s tone was caring and soft. The woman was one of the most straightforward people Ari had ever known. Somehow it always made her feel better. “Truthfully, it does. How am I going to explain this to Molly?”

  “Well, give her a choice. Tell her that she can either burn some vacation days so I can keep looking at our suspects, or you and Jane are going to need stay close to me while we figure this out.”

  Ari knew Molly couldn’t miss work during this investigation, but she had to tell Molly or it would violate their trust. She needed Biz’s help, but a kernel of doubt about the PI’s innocence still lingered. There were some incredible coincidences, and it was possible that Biz was the stalker. She debated the situation, knowing she had to trust someone.

  She sighed into the phone. “Okay, you win. What do I need to do?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Thursday, October 19th

  2:18 PM

  Paper covered nearly every surface of Molly’s office. If Doug Dailey ever left his basement and walked in, he would flip at the sight of his precious files pulled apart and out of order, the information Molly and Andre deemed most critical now positioned at the front. Photos were tacked onto a portable board, and they had begun a chart of the players, Noe’s name at the top and Itchy’s at the bottom. Molly was certain a connection existed between the murders that spanned a twenty-year gap, and her gut told her that a dirty cop was at the center. Consequently, she and Andre had closed her blinds and locked her office door. They’d kept everyone away by invoking the term FBI. She had phoned Rasp, who was still answering to Washington about Itchy’s death, but she agreed to come by later and help them find the links. Luck also had David Ruskin on vacation for the next week, and Molly knew she could work in peace.

  They had started the morning po
ring over Noe’s file, but Jack was extraordinarily meticulous about his notes, and over a dozen names of other investigations and murders were mentioned. The more she read, the more she liked Ari’s father, whom she decided to call again later in the day to see what else he might remember. Each time they compiled a list of names, they trekked back to the basement to collect the files. She debated whether to share last night’s incident with Andre, and as they headed down again, she told him about the hurried feet and the empty car.

  “Are you sure it was empty?” He pointed to the area that housed the control panel next to the doors. “If someone didn’t want to be seen, all he’d need to do is stand against the wall until the door shut.” He demonstrated by hugging the corner of the elevator car.

  “Why would he hide?”

  “Maybe because he was following you. Everybody here knows about this case, and a lot of people heard you talking to Sol yesterday. If there really is a mole, you might have made him nervous. He might be worried you’re on the right track.”

  The doors opened and Doug Dailey scowled when he saw them. “Again? You guys are emptying out whole filing cabinets.” He pointed a finger and narrowed his eyes. “My files better be in order when they come back.”

  “They will,” Molly said. “Don’t worry, Doug.”

  They separated and went in different directions, hunting for various names in different years. Molly found herself in the same vicinity as the night before. She noticed that if she walked past a few more rows, she could peer down the aisle where Louis Noe’s file belonged. She wondered if someone had been watching her. Had she been in danger and didn’t realize it?

  She pulled open a drawer and hunted until she found the file on Stoney Deprima, a small-time fence connected to Vince Carnotti. Deprima had been found inside his pawn shop, shot dead in 1994. Molly opened the file and stared at one of the crime scene photos. Deprima lay on the floor, a bullet hole through his forehead and a knife plunged through his heart, a paper with a single word pinned to his chest—TRAITOR.

  She nodded, starting to feel the rush. Here was the connection. She skimmed the notes as she started back to the elevator. She met up with Andre in the center aisle, five bulging folders in his arms.

  “I found it,” she said, waving the file. “A case with the same MO.”

  They headed back to the office and cleared a space on her desk. Andre studied the crime scene photographs while she scanned the contents of the Deprima file.

  She shook her head, irritated. “Who the hell investigated this? This is incomplete and the notes are shoddy.” She flipped to the end of the official report, searching for the investigating detective’s signature—and groaned. “David Ruskin. I should have known.”

  Andre glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, and she was certain she knew what he was thinking. Ruskin was a player in a Carnotti case then, and he was coordinating their efforts now. She read through everything inside the file and saw several parallels between Stoney Deprima and Itchy Moon. Both had petty records, neither had done major time, and both worked on the fringes for Carnotti—and both had died in exactly the same way. Ruskin had conducted minimal interviews and found no one to prosecute. She cursed when she thought of the difference between Jack Adams’s cases and this one. Jack’s files bulged with information, notes, ideas and pictures, whereas Ruskin’s investigation of Stoney Deprima’s death was completed with a handful of black-and-white photos and less than thirty pieces of paper.

  “This just sucks,” she said, dropping the file on her desk. “Anything with the crime scene photos?”

  Andre shook his head. “Just shots of the vic from different angles. No real shots of the store or the bystanders who gathered. Not even any surveillance photos of investigative leads. It’s like nobody cared if the killer was found.”

  “Maybe that’s the point,” Molly murmured half to herself. She stood up and walked around the room, glancing at the open files that surrounded them. There was nothing but dead ends.

  A knock on the door made them both jump, and Andre peered through the blinds. A grin spread across his face, and he opened the door for Ari. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a hello before turning to Molly, who could feel her insides doing flip-flops. The sight of Ari was enough to take her breath away.

  “Hi, babe,” Ari said, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry to bother you guys, but I really need to talk to Molly for a minute.” They both looked at Andre, who winked and smiled before he left, pulling the door shut tightly behind him.

  Molly only waited for the door click before she pulled Ari against her for a long kiss. “You’re not bothering me, but this is quite a surprise.”

  Ari’s finger wrapped around one of Molly’s curls and she bit her lip. Molly frowned instantly. Anytime Ari bit her lip, she was carrying bad news.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, it seems that Jane’s stalker may be fixating on me now, at least a little.”

  In a second, Molly felt her stomach tighten. “When did this happen?”

  “Today. I got this e-mail and it was a little threatening.”

  She shook her head. Ari was clearly underplaying the problem so she wouldn’t worry. “And what does ‘a little threatening’ look like?”

  “I opened this e-mail greeting card and there was an orchid with blood on it, and then it just disappeared. No message. No real threats. Biz just thinks she should keep an eye on both me and Jane now.”

  Molly wasn’t sure where to start. Fear and anger were fighting for her attention while her mind tried to let go of her thoughts about Stoney Deprima and Itchy Moon. She remained silent, processing her response, not wanting to upset Ari the day before her birthday or sound like a jealous bitch. “So Biz is going to make sure nothing happens to you? How is she going to do that?” She tried to look pleasant but doubted that she was successful.

  “From a distance,” Ari said, wrapping her arms around Molly’s neck and letting their foreheads touch. “She’s just going to keep an eye on me when I go out on appointments during the day. You’re in charge of taking care of me at night, which means that we may need to suspend our usual routine for a while, and we’ll have to be together every single evening.” She kissed her, and they stared at each other. Molly couldn’t help but smile when she got lost in Ari’s green eyes. She found herself enjoying the idea of waking up with Ari every morning. Suddenly Ari stepped back, her expression serious. “I wanted to make sure I told you, because I know how busy you are, and if you could, I know you’d take care of me all of the time, but you can’t. You’ve got to catch a killer. Do you understand that this is just business?”

  Molly nodded, surprised to feel comfortable with the arrangement. “I’m just glad you told me. Biz is great at her job, and I know you’ll be safe. Just make sure you check in with her. Don’t take anything for granted, and most of all, you know that even though I’m stuck at work, if you need me, I’m there. This can all go to hell. I mean it.” She locked eyes with Ari and stared at her.

  Ari took Molly’s hands and brought them to her lips. “I know, baby.” She looked around the room, her gaze settling on the thin file. “Are you finding what you’re looking for?”

  Molly sighed and showed her their latest finding. Ari snorted when she saw the skeletal report David Ruskin had composed. Molly tapped one of the crime photos with a pencil. “I don’t think this is a coincidence. This is how Carnotti sends messages to all of his people. Mess with me in some way, and I consider you a traitor. I believe that whoever killed Stoney Deprima also killed Itchy Moon.”

  “You mean John Rondo,” Ari said.

  Molly shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t have anything to connect him to this murder nine years ago, and David Ruskin didn’t even write down any leads.”

  “Do you think he’s dirty?” Ari whispered. Although they were alone, to accuse a cop of forsaking the law was heretical, but they knew it occurred.

  Molly didn’t answer. She looked down at
the floor for a moment, and when her eyes met Ari’s, she knew Ari was thinking the same thing—Ruskin was the strongest possibility and might have been the doer for both murders.

  There was a quick knock at the door and Rasp appeared. Her eyes went wide in surprise at the sight of Molly’s arm wrapped around Ari’s shoulder. They quickly separated and all three of them laughed nervously.

  Ever adept at social graces, Ari stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “Hello. I’m Ari Adams, and I’m sure it’s quite clear to you that I’m Molly’s girlfriend.”

  Rasp laughed and nodded. “I suspected as much. Agent Connie Rasp with the FBI. I should tell you that your girlfriend is a great cop.” Both of them smiled at Molly, who blushed appropriately. “If it wasn’t for her, this investigation would have totally tanked.”

  “She’s an incredible cop,” Ari agreed. “Now, I really should get out of here so you can continue to be incredible.” Ari grabbed her bag, kissed Molly and headed toward the door. She turned and said, “You know, you really should see if you can find John Rondo’s girlfriend. Didn’t you say he still goes to the High Life, even though he’s married?”

  “Yeah,” Molly said. “The man’s an asshole.”

  “I’d go talk to the girlfriend. See if she thinks he’s an asshole, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Thursday, October 19th