White Offerings

by Roberts, Ann

  Molly nodded. “Take whatever you want.”

  “This is all I need,” she said slowly. She stood and went to her desk. She opened the drawer, dropped the photo inside and withdrew a key. “Yeah, there have been a few times when it’s been obvious that John’s been doing something he shouldn’t.”

  She chose her words carefully, but she delivered the facts in a nonchalant tone, and Molly pictured her sitting in front of a grand jury. The woman could probably put Rondo away for the rest of his life. She walked to her filing cabinet and popped the lock. She searched for a file, smiled when she found it and took it to Molly. She was undoubtedly giving away something she’d been saving for a long time. The file was thick and filled with random scraps of paper and photos. A microcassette tape dropped in her lap.

  “That’s a conversation between John and some other guy about a hit in Florida. I accidentally recorded it when he picked up the phone one day after the answering machine already started. I decided to keep it for insurance.”

  Sandra’s choice of words reminded Molly of Itchy, a man who always had an insurance policy. Sandra moved behind the bar and poured bourbon. Molly started flipping through the folder, amazed at the amount of notes she had compiled.

  “Anyone care to join me?” she offered, holding up her highball glass.

  They declined and watched her down one drink and pour another. She said nothing and only stared into the glass. Molly guessed she was reevaluating her whole life.

  Andre continued to peruse the bookshelves. He picked up a framed photo and asked, “Do you know anyone named Itchy Moon? He was an informant that Rondo probably knew.”

  “Did he kill him?” she asked.

  “Possibly. There was a meeting scheduled at Cactus Airpark not long ago. The informant never made it.”

  She froze with her drink almost to her lips and peered over the top of the glass. “Was he a young guy?”

  “Sort of. Late twenties.”

  She shook her head. “No, the guy I’m thinking of is really young, like a teenager.”

  Molly and Andre exchanged glances. “Did he wear a hat?” Molly asked.

  “Yeah, it’s weird. I’ve never seen a kid in a fedora.”

  Molly scribbled in her notebook. “When did you meet this kid?”

  Sandra brought her drink to the chair and sat down. She took her time with her answer, swirling the brown liquid in the glass. “I’ve seen him with John—never in the club,” she added quickly. “Always outside. He always says hello to me.” She chuckled. “He won’t stop staring at my tits.”

  “Is he working for Rondo?” Molly asked, rather sure she knew the answer.

  “I have no idea, and I don’t want to know. I don’t take drugs, and I stay as far away from John’s business ventures as I possibly can. I’m operating a legitimate business here. I own this place. What’s between John and me is personal.”

  Molly laughed. “C’mon, Sandra. You’re in deep.” She held up the folder. “You’re a conspirator, and you’ve withheld evidence from law enforcement. You could go to prison.”

  Sandra continued to stare at the floor. Molly imagined she wouldn’t fare well in a penitentiary and would become a rape target almost immediately because of her large breasts and comely figure. A silence ensued, except for the muffled strains of the dance music from the main hall.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asked, finally making eye contact with Molly.

  “We need you to make a statement,” Molly explained. “We need you to testify against Rondo.”

  Her face crumbled as she recognized the ramifications of testifying against the mob. She most likely would be put into a witness protection program and forced to start a new life.

  Andre approached Sandra with a photo in his hand. “When was this taken?”

  “Um, about a year ago. John and I went to Paris for New Year’s Eve.”

  He turned the picture toward Molly. At first she couldn’t understand his interest. It was obviously taken at dinner and showed both Sandra and Rondo holding up Champagne flutes in a pose for the camera. She scanned the photo and settled on Rondo’s chunky fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of the glass, a huge emerald ring adorning his right hand.

  She turned the photo so Sandra Payton could see it and pointed to the emerald. “Does he always wear that ring?”

  “You know, it’s funny you should mention that. I asked him about it a few days ago, and he blew me off. Said he lost it. I was really surprised because that was his dead brother’s college ring. It meant a lot to John.”

  Molly thought of the square impression on Itchy’s bruised face and imagined Rondo’s ring slamming against his cheek.

  Chapter Thirty

  Thursday, October 19th

  7:18 PM

  “I can’t believe you slept with Courtney Belmont,” Ari said. She passed Jane the catsup and watched her pour a perfect circle over her hamburger. While she carefully cut her meal into fourths, Ari chomped down on her sandwich and noticed their waitress eyeing Jane from the bar. They rarely stopped at Burger Betty’s, Jane unwilling to dine at any restaurant without proper napkins and table settings after six o’clock.

  Lost in her thoughts, Jane gazed across the restaurant. “Well, I think it was her. The face was the same, but the hair was different. It was lighter and longer.” She paused and took a bite. “You know, the more I think about it, the more I remember that night. I really wasn’t looking for a pickup.” Ari raised an eyebrow and Jane feigned surprise. “Honest. I was tired, and it had been a long week. I’d had three closings and two difficult clients. On top of that, I think I’d already had a few dates with different people. I wasn’t looking for action, just a quiet drink and a chance to watch the crowd. This blonde drops onto the stool next to me, buys me a few drinks, and pretty soon we’re having a good time. It was really bizarre because I don’t usually get drunk on kamikazies, but by my third, I was having trouble forming sentences and she was practically sitting in my lap. Vicky yelled at us to get a room, and the woman—Courtney, I guess—led me outside to her car. Everything’s a blur after that. We went to her place, and all I remember is waking up in the middle of the night with a pounding headache. She was asleep next to me, and I tiptoed out. She never woke up.”

  “She didn’t hear you?”

  Jane grinned and winked. “Ari, honey, they never do. I’m the expert at the silent exit.”

  Ari rolled her eyes. It was no wonder Jane was being stalked. “What kind of car did she drive?”

  Jane furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I can’t see it. I was too far gone.”

  She thought about Jane’s encounter with Courtney Belmont as they drove back to her condo. Jane was prattling away about her birthday party, certain that there would be photographers and reporters present from the Echo, Phoenix’s local gay and lesbian magazine.

  There was something about Jane’s tryst with Courtney that wasn’t right. Despite her tiny stature, Jane could hold her liquor, and Ari had upon occasion watched her guzzle five shots and remain sober. If three kamikazies sent her into a drunken stupor, there was more in the glass than triple sec and vodka. Ari wondered if Courtney hadn’t slipped a drug into Jane’s drink.

  “Jane, did you ever get up to go to the bathroom when you were with Courtney?”

  “Well, from what I remember, my friend Elise came by the bar and asked me to go over to her table to meet her new girlfriend. I wasn’t gone for more than five minutes.”

  “Did Courtney go with you?”

  “No, she said she’d save my stool. I’d already had a few drinks at that point, and I felt stone sober. I’m not sure what happened.”

  “I think she drugged you. How many times have I told you not to walk away from your drink? I’ll bet that while you were gone, Courtney spiked your kamikazie with Rohypnol or a copycat drug.”

  Jane’s face showed genuine disbelief. “Honey, I really doubt she felt she needed the date rape drug to get me to bed. I�
�m a sure thing. Everybody knows that.”

  “That’s not the point.” Ari took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. Jane didn’t recognize the consequences of her lifestyle. “Date rape is about power, not how easy you are.”

  She looked stunned. “I’ve never thought of myself as being raped.” Neither of them commented further, and Ari hoped she’d made her point.

  She knew she’d failed when Jane pulled up to her building and left the engine running. No doubt her intention was to dump her and find someone who would take her home. Ari opened the door, eager for them to be apart. She loved Jane dearly, but it was conversations like these that reminded her of their clear differences.

  Jane caught her arm. “Hey, I know you’re only looking out for me, but you don’t need to worry. I’m fine.” Ari nodded, wordless. She couldn’t change her choices. “Look, I love you, right?” Jane added with a friendly kiss. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

  She squeezed her shoulder until Ari couldn’t help but smile. There really was something about Jane’s charm that was magnetic.

  “Now, tell Molly I said hi and remind her to make more coffee in the morning before she leaves. As roommates you two leave a lot to be desired.”

  Ari nodded and pulled her long frame from the tiny car. She watched Jane speed away into the darkness and potential danger. An engine started nearby and she instinctively turned around to find the source. Perhaps it was Biz. Parked cars lined the side street of the condo high-rise, but none pulled away from the curb. She felt a shiver down her back and moved inside quickly.

  All she wanted was a shower and a glass of wine. Molly would be home in a while, and the idea of the two of them crawling into bed and watching a movie made her smile. She debarked from the elevator and her smile vanished as she approached her door. A long rectangular box rested against the doorknob, and she knew before she picked it up what she would find inside. There was no return address or markings on the plain brown cardboard and only a knotted piece of twine held it shut. She fumbled with her door lock, already noticing how light the box was, almost as if it was empty. But she knew it wasn’t, and when she severed the twine with her kitchen knife and opened the box, she heard the distinct sound of tissue paper crinkling inside. The image of the bleeding orchid flashed in her mind as she parted the paper and found a single Angraecum elephantinum. She studied the flower, which still seemed so beautiful, and it was only when she glanced at the bottom of the stalk that she saw the note card and the handwritten message—YOU DESERVE A REAL ONE AND SO MUCH MORE. HAVE A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Thursday, October 19th

  7:49 PM

  The mall seemed unusually crowded for a Thursday night to Molly, but she rarely shopped on a weeknight, so perhaps her expectations were low. Crowds were a good thing—it meant people weren’t out on the streets breaking the law or causing car accidents.

  She checked her cell phone, making sure she had a signal inside the mall. Andre had gone ahead to find Rusty while she made a quick trip for Ari’s present. As important as the case was to her, she couldn’t handle Ari in tears, which would inevitably happen if she didn’t get her a gift. She cursed herself for procrastinating, longing to be with Andre when he found Rusty. She’d put off the shopping trip, having no idea what to buy for the woman she secretly loved but couldn’t tell, at least not yet.

  She wandered into a card store toward the birthday racks and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the sentiments and messages. She chose a sincere card and read the text inside, which gushed with loving phrases and even went so far as to use the exact word she was avoiding. She replaced it and stepped toward the funny cards, their covers plastered with cartoon characters, bright colors and outrageous scribbles. She didn’t even bother picking one up, for she knew if she made a joke of her birthday, Ari would be upset, or worse—disappointed. She could handle her short and uneventful fits of anger, but she hated it when Ari was depressed. She sighed deeply, beginning to feel depressed herself, and exited the store to wait for her brother by the enormous fountain. If anyone would know what to do about Ari’s birthday, it would be Brian. He was the most romantic man she knew.

  “Hey, sis,” his familiar voice called. He sauntered toward her, a small bag in his hand.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “This is a present for Lynne. Our third anniversary of glorious partnership is coming up in a few weeks, and I’m getting ahead.” He withdrew a rectangular box. Inside was a beautiful diamond pendant that Molly knew Lynne would adore.

  “Oh, Bri, that’s incredible. Lynne will love that. It’s perfect.” They both admired the necklace a bit longer before he returned it to the bag.

  It all seemed so easy for him. Why is this so difficult for me? “I’ll never find anything for Ari,” she said.

  “Of course you will.” He put an arm around her and pointed at the nearby card shop. “Did you get a card?”

  “Well, I looked, but all of the serious cards are too . . .” She paused and searched for the right word.

  “Serious.”

  “That’s it. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

  “And what idea would that be?” he asked, grinning.

  She smirked. “I’m not ready. You know that. We’ve only been dating for six months. I need more time.”

  “I understand. Let’s skip the card for now.” He pointed at a department store. “Let’s try in there.” She groaned and they went inside. He led her to the jewelry department and stopped in front of a display case of moderately priced gold and silver items. “Now, the key to remember is that there are certain things that one lover should never give to another. A blender comes to mind. Also, you need to know that there are levels of intimacy to gifts. Diamonds scream commitment, and they are a definite guarantee that you will indeed be in bed before the evening is over.” He lifted his bag for confirmation just as an attractive saleswoman approached them.

  “May I help you?”

  Brian turned to her and smiled. “My sister needs a present for her girlfriend, one that shows how much she cares, but . . .” His sentence faded away and the saleswoman’s red lips turned up in understanding.

  “Of course. What you need is something that says thoughtfulness.”

  “Yes,” Molly agreed.

  “I’d suggest something in gold, possibly a bracelet or a necklace. There’s always a watch, if you’d like to add an element of practicality.”

  She debated what would be the best choice for Ari. She’d seen her wear a number of different watches, so she probably had enough of those. The display case was full of necklaces with various thicknesses and designs. She thought some were attractive, but many were gaudy or ugly, and she knew Ari was rather picky about her jewelry. Her doubt increased the longer she stared into the case. She had no idea what to choose.

  Brian apparently sensed her frustration. He pointed at a delicate gold rope that had a twist at the center. “May we see that one, please?”

  “Excellent choice,” the saleslady commented.

  Molly chuckled slightly. She was already flirting with Brian. What woman wouldn’t want a man who could select jewelry?

  They examined the necklace, which seemed perfect. It wasn’t heavy and thick, so it wouldn’t look enormous on Ari’s dainty neck, but it wasn’t so thin that it would go unnoticed and possibly break.

  “Well, sis, what do you think? Does this necklace say I like you a lot? I hope you stick around?” He started to laugh and she playfully slugged him in the arm.

  “It’s not a diamond, but do you think I still have a chance for some hot and heavy sex?”

  Brian’s brilliant blue eyes twinkled. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.”

  Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she motioned to the saleslady while she answered Andre’s call. “Hey.”

  “He’s gone, Mol. The desk clerk doesn’t know where he went, but his room is empty. I asked some of the other tenants, an
d they said he packed up yesterday and took off, said something about a cousin in California.”

  Molly stepped out of the store and into the mall to improve the reception. “That could just be for show. I think we spooked him, but my guess is that he’s still around. He doesn’t think we know about his connection with John Rondo.”

  “Then where is he?”

  She glanced at the nearby storefronts and her eyes focused on a poster in Bob’s Sporting Goods store. It depicted Phoenix Suns’ star Steve Nash driving to the basket. “Is there a game at the arena tonight?”

  Once the gift was purchased and Brian convinced her to buy a blank card and write her own message, Molly was on her way down SR-51, the lights of the arena in the distance. Rusty was a die-hard fan, and she doubted he would miss a game. She found Andre at the press entrance, and he introduced her to the head security guard, a burly man named Hugo. They circled the arena underground, stopping to chat with the various security guards who worked the entry points. They were only at their third stop when she saw Rusty as he turned and recognized her.

  “Andre!” she shouted.

  Rusty bolted into the crowd and headed for the main escalator. They followed behind with Hugo, who squawked into his radio, urging his staff to stop the kid in the fedora. They darted between the pockets of fans coming out early for halftime, and Molly knew if they didn’t catch him before the entire crowd poured onto the concourse, he would vanish amid the thousands of people. They were gaining on him, and she watched as he ditched the overcoat and the fedora into a corner. On the jumbo screen she noticed only twenty seconds remained until the halftime buzzer sounded.

  They continued around the concourse, Rusty occasionally throwing a glance behind him to check the distance that separated them. One hundred feet ahead was the main entrance, the place where thousands would descend momentarily. She heard the crowd count down the last ten seconds, and Rusty looked back once more—just as a blind woman and her companion emerged from the seating area. The woman’s cane caught his ankle and both of them tumbled to the floor. Rusty jumped to his feet, but two security guards grabbed him immediately. They turned him around to face Molly, and the look he gave her was deadly. Her skin went cold, and she suddenly believed he was capable of murder.