Murder Under the Desert Moon

by Maria Grazia Swan

  "Officer, I need my purse and my phone—everything is in the car."

  "Not to worry, we'll collect all of your belongings and make sure they are returned to you."

  A bright light pointed at me, and I felt a thousand eyes checking me out.

  Then I heard Larry's voice. "Lella."

  "You know her?" someone asked.

  "Yes, and that's my car she was driving."

  I wanted to close my eyes and disappear, but my eyelids felt scratchy. The hazmat suit walked me toward an ambulance idling by the sidewalk. I could see there was quite a crowd—the onlookers were kept a good distance from the car.

  For the first time, I noticed where I'd ended up. I had parked the Mercedes against the center median. If no other vehicle hit me or vice versa, what was on the roof of Larry's car, and where did it come from? Where was Larry? Then I saw him on the other side of the police tape, arguing with a uniformed officer. Larry wasn't the only civilian.

  I tried to push back the sticky hair from my face, but the hazmat person stopped me. "Ma'am, it's better if you let the paramedic clean you up."

  "Where are you taking me?" I spoke resentfully and kept my gaze on Larry hoping to make eye contact.

  And then I noticed the Sheriff and a few more of the people from his party. No…at that point I realized all of the officers' cars said Sheriff, not Police.

  Before we reached the idling ambulance Larry caught up to us. He kept his distance. "Sweetie, don't be frightened—it's just a precaution until they know for sure what hit the car. It's not radioactive—that's good. I'll walk with you, but I can't come too close."

  "Larry, I'm so sorry, your car…"

  "Hey, hey, you didn't do anything—don't even think about it. I'm only concerned about you." He turned to the paramedic standing by the ambulance. "Can I ride to the hospital with you? That was my car, so I don't have any transportation until I get a rental."

  The paramedic exchanged glances with the hazmat suit, who nodded. "I guess it's okay. They seemed to have determined it's fast-setting concrete."

  "What the hell? How does that amount of concrete end up on the roof of my car?" Larry must have realized that it wasn't the place or the time for questions. "Sorry, fellows, I'm—what should I say? Stunned?"

  By then I was lying down on the gurney feeling totally silly. A young woman wiped my face with a soft, moist towel. The paramedic sat in the driver's seat. Larry squeezed himself inside the ambulance, careful not to touch me, as instructed. But his eyes did the talking for him, and away we went into the night.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It couldn't get any more awkward than this. After I stripped down and was sponge washed, I was given a hospital gown, and then the fun began with all kind of tests, while all I really wanted was a tall glass of ice water and my own bed where I could cuddle up with Larry. The same Larry who was sitting patiently in the ER cubicle I was assigned to. He kept busy on the phone, but would make small talk with me in between tests. I had the feeling most of the phone calls were related to the concrete mysteriously falling from the sky.

  They wheeled me in, and they wheeled me out—it got old pretty quick. Now that my sense of panic had lifted, I couldn't wait to get out of there. Suddenly I remembered Flash, the very reason I had ended up in Arizona in the first place.

  "Oh my God, Larry, I forgot about the sitter."

  "Shush, it's all good. I have someone there—don't worry about it. Relax. You've had enough excitement for one night."

  I loved the way he looked at me. I wanted to be held. If only they'd let me go home, okay, back to the hotel, even a hotel room sounded enticing at this point. And then it hit me—what about my clothes? Everything was covered with that powdery stuff. What was I going to wear? And Larry's car was trashed. How were we supposed to get back to the hotel?

  The doctor who'd first asked me a million questions came back into the cubicle. "Everything came up clear—that's great. You're a lucky lady. You're free to go if you want. Would you like a prescription to help you sleep?" he asked me.

  "No, no, thanks. I'll be fine. It's just…" I looked at Larry.

  "Don't worry, sweetie. I have a rental waiting for us outside, but you may have to wear my coat back to the hotel, unless you prefer your dusty clothes?" He stroked my hand while talking.

  Frankly, if necessary, I was ready to get up and get in the rented car wearing the hospital gown that didn't close properly…anything to get out of there.

  The automobile was a white Lincoln, the kind my son Kyle called an old-people's-car. I didn't say a word. I kept Larry's sport coat closed tight with both hands and wore surgical socks while my clothes and my shoes were in a large brown paper bag Larry carried for me. Of course they brought me to the car in a wheelchair, according to regulations.

  Neither of us said much until the door of the car slammed shut. Larry drove away from the hospital entrance, parked in a dark corner of the parking lot, and embraced me so tight, like he'd never let me go. "Oh, Lella, I am so sorry. It's all my fault. I should never have asked you to go with me to that police get-together."

  I loved every minute of it, but I simply couldn't understand what he felt so guilty about. He wasn't even in the car when all that stuff hit the sunroof. And it had been my idea to drive the Mercedes. He had offered to get me a taxi—let's not forget that small detail. I would remind him of that later. For now, his guilt felt pretty good.

  I recognized Shea Boulevard when we turned onto it. So the hospital was on Shea, okay.

  "Larry, how am I going to get from the car to the hotel room like this? It's sooo embarrassing."

  He patted my knee with so much tenderness. "We are using the back entrance, and taking the service elevator. Besides, I think my coat looks a lot better on you than it ever did on me."

  "You made all those arrangements while I was getting tested? Wow, I'm impressed. Imagine what you could have accomplished if this were your own district."

  "Oh, well, first, we were in that emergency room for over two hours. Second, the fact that what happened to you happened half a mile from the Sheriff's home, where we were his guests, didn't sit well with the man. He takes things like that very personally. And that brings up another—detail."

  "Why do I sense that detail wasn't the word you had in mind? What's going on? The mighty Sheriff's already arrested whoever dropped cement on my head? By the way, why would anyone carry a bag of concrete up above all the buildings and the lake? What were they building? A staircase to heaven? And don't you need water to mix cement with in order to make it…oh. I was by the lake. Water. Is there a connection? Was I just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

  He patted my knee with renewed fervor. "Maybe, maybe not. That's what we need to discuss. You may have to extend your stay because the Sheriff's deputies will want to talk to you."

  "You mean they are going to interview me about what I remember? If I happened to see someone? That kind of stuff?"

  "Lella." Now his voice had that familiar snake charmer's tone he used to get information from people who may not be willing to volunteer it. "There are questions. Why my car? Was it intentional or a mistake? And if it was intentional, did they know who was driving it? You see? It's not that simple."

  "Huh. Just what kind of special witness are you? Against the Mafia?"

  He laughed. "I'm as neutral as can be, honestly."

  He wasn't fooling me.

  "Okay, Mr. Neutral, is this case connected with those people, you know, Innocence Free Project? And if so, are you on their side or against them?"

  "Neither. Why don't we sleep on it and by morning the detective in charge of the illegal dumping may have some answers."

  We both nodded and smiled like nitwits, well aware this was just a short truce until the ever-present morning sun would bring more clarity to the situation. Or not.

  Flash slept between us. Another first. Perhaps cats have a sixth sense, and she knew something wasn't quite the way it should be.

&nb
sp; In spite of all the excitement I woke up rested. Larry sat on the bed, watching the morning news with the sound off. He turned the TV off completely when he realized I was awake.

  "Lella, do you need to buy clothes?"

  "Well, good morning to you also. No, I'll settle for some coffee. I brought a change of clothes. That'll get me home."

  He cleared his throat. "Let's order breakfast in bed. Don't get upset, but you will need to stay at least a few more days. I've been thinking."

  Here we go.

  "This town is full of short-time furnished rentals because of the so-called snowbirds, you know, people coming for the winter months…this being summer there are vacancies galore. How about I rent a cute condo for a week or so, and then Flash can have room to roam, and you can sit by the pool and get a suntan." He must have seen my scowl. "Or read a book. And I would be thrilled to have you here with me while I get done with this witness duty and—Lella, don't stare at me like you want to kill me. Hey, it's just a suggestion."

  "Are you sure you didn't kidnap my cat?"

  For a second he looked at me with that deer-in-the-headlights expression, and then he laughed and laughed. "Oh, you're too much. How do you come up with this stuff? But, hey, not bad, not bad at all. Plus, look how Flash and I have bonded."

  He appeared so comfortable with the whole situation, and he looked so handsome with that white terrycloth robe and the damp hair falling on his forehead. I hit him with a pillow then hid under the covers. I stayed there until breakfast arrived along with the daily issue of The Arizona Republic.

  I wasn't much of a morning person and Larry knew that, so no serious subject came up again until I reached for my second cup of coffee. He was glancing at the paper.

  "You made the news," he said.

  "What? Let me see that." I grabbed the paper from him before he had a chance to protest.

  Mysterious Object Falls From The Sky Car Destroyed, said the headline. Thank God they only posted a picture of the Mercedes, and it looked pretty crushed on the top. My name was only mentioned as the friend driving the car. Not much information, and I was thankful for that.

  "You know, Larry, it was sort of lucky I was driving your car, I mean with me being so short and all that. It could have given you a concussion."

  He scooted closer to my side of the bed. "You're right. You saved my life." His eyes told me he was playing with me. "What can I do to thank you?" He slipped his hand under the covers. "I must replace the clothes you lost, yes, let me get an idea what size you wear…"

  What he was stroking didn't come with a specific size. I bit his earlobe and moved his hands up, toward my chest. Flash jumped off the bed with an air of disgust.

  It was almost noon by the time we walked to the rented Lincoln, and the outside heat was on high. How can people stand it? I wore my only change of clothes. Flash paraded in her shiny leash and walked beside Larry. We must have been quite a sight.

  The idea of a short-time rental still floated around, but nothing had been settled. We were headed to the Biltmore Fashion Park, where Larry assured me I could find the type of clothes, shoes, and lingerie I liked, and he could wait for me at an outdoor café with Flash.

  "Larry, how can you possibly know so much about Phoenix? I don't ever remember you talking about this place before. And while we're on the subject of knowing things, where did you meet all those lawmen and women you were mingling with at the Sheriff's party?"

  "Some of them moved here from Orange County. They sold their houses there at the height of the real estate boom and bought a better house here for half the money. Plus, Arizona's taxes are lower. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking about checking out some possible real estate investments."

  "Good for you. Don't expect me to come and visit you here; it's like a preview of hell. I now understand the expression 'frying an egg on the sidewalk.'"

  "It's only early June—the real heat doesn't even start until around July."

  We drove up a road called Camelback, and again it struck me how the buildings were rather low compared to Los Angeles or even San Diego. I didn't really mind. Open spaces are often more appealing than tall structures crammed against each other to the point that you hardly see the sunshine.

  "They have such strange street names. Indian School Road? Camelback? Let me guess, there was a school where Indians rode camels?"

  He laughed, made a left turn on Twenty-Fourth Street. "Don't know much about Indian School, but Camelback takes its name from Camelback Mountain, up the street. I'll show it to you after you're done shopping."

  He circled a covered parking garage. I could see Macy's and the back entrance of some designer's boutique.

  "Sweetie, you'll need to shop alone. I doubt Flash is welcome at Macy's. There's a Saks Fifth Ave—"

  "No, Macy's is fine. I can wear their petite brand without alterations. I'll call you when I'm done, so watch your cell phone. I can't get over how well-behaved Flash is acting."

  "I told you, bonding my dear, bonding…"

  I headed for Macy's glass doors. Larry walked toward the open courtyard of the mall. While outside it felt like Satan's den, inside Macy's was like stepping into a meat locker: freezing. That explained the sales clerks wearing long sleeves and nylons.

  I felt totally alien in this city.

  And the way people dressed, there was a little of everything, from shorts and halter tops to boots and long-sleeved dresses. I supposed some people dressed for the weather, others for the season? And me? At this point I dressed for survival.

  Forty-five minutes later I left Macy's with several bags containing clothes, lingerie, and a very modest bathing suit. Damn you, Larry. Buying that bathing suit was the equivalent of saying yes to staying in Phoenix and renting a place with a pool.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Something about Larry's reason to be in Phoenix nagged at me. A lot. It was as if I was discovering a whole side of him I never knew, and we'd been lovers for about four years. We didn't live together, by mutual agreement, but I'd learned to trust him almost one-hundred-percent. Yes, I still had my moments of insecurity.

  Perhaps he regretted his decision to retire from Homicide? He missed the action, the camaraderie? I didn't know for sure, but since we were about to share close quarters for the next week or so, this was my chance to find out.

  The one-bedroom suite with private patio, as touted by the brochure, turned out to be a one-story condo in a small, gated, and secluded complex that felt like heaven in the middle of the city. It must be quite an old place in Arizonan years, since the whole state only dated back to 1912, and most of the city to the east looked like it was built yesterday.

  Well, not Camelview Suites.

  It had big trees casting a refreshing shade over the private patio. The furnishings were luxurious, the kitchen compact yet functional, and the bedroom and bath made me feel like I was vacationing at a five-star resort. We did share a wall with another unit, but that didn't make it less homey. Of course there was a pool and a spa, and no one objected that we had a cat. Heaven indeed. We moved in by late afternoon.

  The place was just south of this Camelback Road that seemed to be a major hub in regards to social life. And, yes, Larry drove by Camelback Mountain, and again, it made no sense to me.

  "Don't camels have two humps?" I asked. "This mountain only has one, so in my opinion it should be called Dromedary Road. But hey, what do I know? I'm Italian."

  "And a lovely one at that," was his opportunistic comeback.

  Even after the sun went to sleep, the outside walls felt hot to the touch, but we discovered something else Arizonans do to keep cool. The patio had a misting system, some plastic tubing around the roof edge released a cold mist, and that, plus the outdoor ceiling fan at full speed, made life bearable.

  Flash plopped herself on top of the dividing wall and looked quite content.

  "Confession time." I sipped some chilled white wine and kept a steady gaze on Larry. "I'm sitting here, my derriere stuck to
the chair cushion and perspiration running down my back. I've earned the truth. Talk. Why are you in Phoenix?"

  I waited. The tone of his voice would tell me more than his words. If the snake charmer surfaced, he was trying to confuse me. So I waited.

  He pushed the chair back from the patio table, stretched his legs, and kicked off his loafers. He was making himself comfortable; we were in for a long talk.

  Suddenly all the lights lining the paths connecting the units came on, and the place looked like a postcard from the past. It made me feel all nostalgic inside.

  Focus, Lella, focus.

  "First let me tell you that our friends at MCSO have cracked the case of the concrete from the sky."

  "Wait, wait…what's MCSO?"

  "Maricopa County Sheriff's Office."

  "Of course, how silly of me. So? When did you find out?" So far so good, no snake charmer voice.

  He fiddled in his chair. Drummed his fingers on the table. Lawrence Devin was nervous. Seriously?

  "Okay, well." He cleared his throat.

  How bad can it be?

  "They called me while you were, you know, shopping at Macy's." He waited.

  "That was at noon. You mean you've known since noon that the case of the smashed Mercedes was resolved, and you didn't tell me about it? Why…no…wait…you didn't tell me because you wanted to keep me in Phoenix. Didn't you? First you kidnap my cat, and then you hold me prisoner under false pretenses." Keeping a straight face while pounding out made-up accusations was hard, but well worth it to watch poor Larry squirm. That will teach him.

  "You're right." Ever so humble. "I should have told you, and you're correct to assume that part of me wants you here, but not if you feel trapped. I'm sorry. We can stop by the Sheriff's headquarters in the morning so you can sign some paperwork, and then you can be on your way home. Again, I'm really sorry. That's not the way relationships work. And I did not kidnap Flash. She got in the back of the car while we were saying our good-byes. You know that."