“It wasn’t delivered to the front desk. I found it outside my door.”
Molly’s eyes widened and she worked to maintain her composure. The fact that the stalker knew where Ari lived and could walk to her door and leave a package was scary. Molly tapped her notebook and stared vacantly toward the wall. She was deep in thought, and when she looked up at Ari, it was as a cop. “I’ll check all this out in the morning. Did you call Biz?”
It was a loaded question, and Ari worded her response carefully. “I left a message for her to call me, but I wasn’t too worried because I knew you’d be home soon.”
Molly nodded slowly and the moment of tension floated away. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Well, there’s nothing else we can do tonight, but
I’ll
call Biz in the morning, and we can work on a game plan. I’m beginning to think something might happen at your party tomorrow night.”
Ari thought of the note and the reference to her birthday. “Molly, you don’t need to get in the middle of this. I know you’re busy.”
Her expression hardened. “I’m not that busy. You’re my girlfriend, and you come first.” She scooped up the orchid and the box and took them out of the room. When she returned, her expression remained serious. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m going to tell Biz she needs to stay very close to you. We just got a huge break in my case, and I’m hoping we can wrap it up in the morning.”
“That’s great, baby.” Molly slid next to her and they gazed at each other. Ari stroked her cheek, a cloak of security wrapping around her. Molly would never understand how she felt when they were together—safe, comfortable, loved.
“You know I’d be lost without you,” Molly said, swallowing hard.
The words touched her heart. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll protect me.”
Molly cocooned her in an embrace and she started to relax. She closed her eyes, feeling the wonderful rise and fall of Molly’s chest against her back and Molly’s warm breath caressing her skin.
Friday, October 20th
1:15 AM
The gauge crept closer to empty, and she realized in a single evening she’d driven two hundred miles and blown almost half a tank of gas. After she’d left Ari’s condo, she’d headed for the freeway and I-17, one of the few highways left in Phoenix where you could hit one hundred miles per hour and the likelihood of being pulled over was nearly zero. Once she’d passed the Pioneer exit, she’d accelerated to one hundred and ten. Only after she’d flown by the turnoff for Prescott did she realize how far north she was. She took the next exit ramp and hugged the shoulder. When she killed the headlights, blackness swallowed her. She breathed deeply, working to avoid the sudden claustrophobia that squeezed her chest like a vise. She looked down at her shaky hands and immediately clamped them onto the steering wheel for support, letting her head fall forward.
She closed her eyes and her mind returned to Hideaway and the stranger’s words.
She’ll never want you. All she wants is sex.
She pictured Jane with the femme, fondling and kissing each other. Jealousy turned inside her, and she thought she might throw up. She cracked a window and was comforted by the sounds of the nearby highway.
The stranger was right. Jane was not monogamous. She flirted shamelessly with everyone, slept with countless women—and then abandoned them in the middle of the night. And now she knew why. She’d seen it with her own eyes when Jane had dropped off Ari. The binoculars allowed her to watch not only their kiss, but Jane’s hesitation, her desire. She was in love with her best friend, but she didn’t know it. Every other woman was a substitute, a stand-in for what she couldn’t understand about herself and what she couldn’t have.
She lifted her head from the steering wheel and gazed through the windshield at the full moon. Awash in blues and grays, it shone bright, and she felt as if she’d been hit by a spotlight. She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the gun. She felt its power in the moon’s glow and studied the sleek, black metal barrel. She pointed it at the moon, imagining her target—Ari. Once Ari was gone, Jane would be free, and they could be together. She imagined herself in Jane’s arms, lying prostrate on the couch at Hideaway. The thought made her smile.
Screeching brakes on the highway sent a jolt through her brain, and she sat up, realizing she was sitting in the middle of nowhere holding a gun. She tossed it back in the glove box and started the engine. She headed back to the city, toward the millions of lights that seemed to greet her. She jammed the gas pedal and watched the needle ascend to one-twenty. Tomorrow would belong to her, and Ari would have a birthday party she would never forget.
Friday, October 20th
9:15 AM
Connie Rasp met Andre and Molly outside the Embers with a warrant in hand. “Itchy’s DNA matches some skin found lodged in the ring’s setting. That’s all we need. I called Rondo’s office, and they said he hasn’t come in yet. His car is still here, and my surveillance team says he hasn’t left. You two ready to make the collar?”
“Gladly,” Andre answered, taking the warrant from Rasp.
As they rode up to Rondo’s condominium, Rasp explained what had happened overnight after the FBI took Rusty into custody. “He may not have talked to you, but he sang for us once he realized he could go to prison for life. Seems Rondo recruited him to run drugs, and Itchy was along for the ride, trying to keep Rusty out of trouble. Itchy pleaded with him not to deal drugs, but the kid was determined. When you guys caught Itchy, he was actually holding for Rusty. He was the one who got Itchy killed. He gave Itchy to Rondo after Itchy told him that he’d been arrested. Itchy told the kid that working with the police was the best way out.”
“But Rusty didn’t want out,” Andre said. “He was in it for the money.”
“Poor Itchy,” Molly said. “He thought he could trust the kid. He saw himself as some sort of mentor.”
Andre snorted. “That kid doesn’t need a mentor. He needs a conscience.”
“No doubt,” Rasp agreed. “That boy is hard. I don’t see a soul inside him.”
“He sure had us fooled,” Molly said. “He acts the innocent. I just wanted to throw my arms around that boy and help him.” She suddenly remembered the other witnesses they had interviewed. “Did Rusty say anything about where Itchy got the wad of cash he was carrying? Or his comment about finding a meal ticket?”
Rasp shook her head. “Apparently Rusty really has no idea. What he told both of you was the truth, and he insists Itchy wasn’t really involved with drugs. That part is still a mystery. There was something else going on with Itchy, and my guess is that it had something to do with that slip of paper. I just don’t know if we’ll ever figure it out.”
The doors opened to the twelfth floor and two penthouse suites. They knocked on Suite A, but no one answered. They pounded and announced their presence, and Molly felt her heart rate quicken. Rasp called her team, who brought the manager up with a key. Molly worried that she would find a murder/suicide scene and Rondo would be dead after killing his family. When the manager arrived and opened the door, they only found one body—John Rondo. He’d been reading in bed and was shot twice in the chest. There was no sign of forced entry and nothing was taken. The FBI swarmed the building, and soon crime techs and agents were everywhere. Molly and Andre retreated to the lobby to stay out of the way.
“So where’s the wife and kids?” Andre asked what Molly was wondering. “Why was he alone? What happened to his family?”
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. I just hope they’re safe. I’m thinking somebody’s worried that we’re getting close.”
“You mean the leak,” Andre said.
Neither of them commented further, but Molly couldn’t help but wonder if someone was covering his tracks. She thought Rasp was right and the slip of paper was a key piece. Itchy knew something, and he was killed for it.
What did he know?
Her mind returned to the night in the basement and the empty elevator, and the circles she’d been doodling. Everything was connected.
Thirty minutes later Connie Rasp appeared, shaking her head. “Okay, so the killer picks the lock, at least it looks that way. He uses a silencer, so nobody hears anything, and the night security guard said everyone was accounted for on the log. The video surveillance camera shows a pizza delivery man going up to the twelfth floor around ten, but the guy kept his face toward the floor. And the best part is that the night security guy remembered letting him up around the same time, but he was on his cell phone and really wasn’t paying attention to what the guy looked like, except that he was white and wore a company baseball cap that shielded his face.”
“Great,” Andre said. “So nobody was with Rondo? Where was his family?”
Rasp smiled pleasantly. “The wife is away at a resort with the kids for a long weekend.”
Andre snorted. “What about school? My mama never would have let me skip school for ‘a long weekend.’ What’s with these parents nowadays?”
“They’re very indulgent,” Rasp said.
“When was he killed?” Molly asked.
“M.E. guesses between nine and midnight last night.”
“That lets Rusty off the hook,” Andre said. “And it looks professional.”
Rasp glanced at Molly. “Where do you think Rusty fits into all of this?”
Molly shrugged. “I doubt he killed Rondo.” Rasp said nothing, but Molly knew she was thinking about the mole.
The main doors flew open and a beautiful blonde hurried through, accompanied by Sandra Payton. Molly’s jaw dropped at the sight, and Andre touched her arm. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Yup. I’d say this mystery just got interesting.”
Rasp went to meet Jennifer Rondo, who started to cry when Rasp broke the news. Molly noticed that Sandra remained stoic, and at one point, their eyes met, but her expression didn’t change. Two agents took Jennifer Rondo to the building manager’s office for questioning, and Sandra joined Molly and Andre.
“Detectives, what are you doing here?”
Molly offered a pleasant smile. “We were here to arrest John Rondo for murder, but someone’s saved us the trouble.” Sandra shook her head, and Molly realized she wore a sundress, as if she too had been enjoying some time by the pool. “So how is it that you’re with Mrs. Rondo? And where are the children?”
“The children are with friends now. We didn’t want to bring them here after the police phoned Jennifer.”
“And why are you here?” Molly pressed.
“After you showed me those very interesting photographs, I phoned Jennifer. She told me that she had taken the kids to the Pointe at South Mountain for the weekend. The kids were off today because the teachers had a professional workday. I asked her if I could come by. I had some information she might like to see.”
“Why would she want to see that photo?” Andre asked. “You said that she didn’t care.”
Sandra drew a long fingernail across her forehead to replace a random strand of hair that had freed itself from her loose bun. “She doesn’t, but I did. She saw how hurt I was, and she comforted me. It was quite lovely.”
Andre scratched his head. “So you and Jennifer Rondo spent the night together?”
“We did,” Sandra said with a wicked smile. “We spent most of the evening playing with the children, and after they went to sleep, we ordered room service and went to bed. It was really quite domestic.”
“What time was room service?” Molly asked.
“Somewhere around ten, I’m not sure. If it’s that important, I’m sure the bellboy will remember. He saw both of us, and we gave him a generous tip, and a little bit of a show as well.” She laughed and her cheeks reddened. “We were definitely in the throes of passion.”
Molly laughed in disbelief as she pieced together the murder of John Rondo. “I have to tell you that I am incredibly impressed.”
“Whatever for, detective?”
“You’ve protected yourself and Jennifer Rondo with airtight alibis, killed off the man who scorned you and bedded his soon-to-be extremely rich widow. That’s amazing.”
Sandra feigned innocence. “Detective Nelson, you are correct that Jennifer and I are pursuing a relationship, and we most definitely can account for our whereabouts last night, but I assure you that I don’t know anything about John’s death.”
Molly leaned close enough to smell Sandra’s perfume. “You’re telling me this is all extremely coincidental?”
“And very fortuitous,” Sandra added. “I hear the Witness Protection Program is really a drag.”
The office door opened and a teary Jennifer Rondo emerged with Rasp. She went to Sandra’s open arms, and together they walked out of the Embers and into a convertible Jaguar. Andre’s cell phone rang, and he wandered over to a corner. Rasp motioned to Molly, and they exited a side door into a small garden and found a bench overlooking a koi pond.
“Her alibi’s solid,” Rasp said.
“She didn’t do it.”
“What about the other woman?”
Molly shook her head. “She may have set it in motion, but it was a pro. I’m guessing that she used one of Rondo’s goons to help her out. She knew a lot of his friends, and I’ll bet there were a few willing to do anything for Sandra. Go ahead and subpoena her phone records, but I doubt you’ll find a trail. She’s too smart. She had her own personal motives for wanting him dead.”