Paid in Full (8 page)

From the way Ari so succinctly explained their relationship, Molly knew there was much more. Jealousy swept over her. “Extremely close friends,” she concluded.

“Yes, but just friends,” Ari answered, sensing she needed to explain further. “Bob and I were never lovers. Our love is different.”

“Because you owe him?” Molly asked, thinking back to the last thing Ari had said that afternoon:
Have you ever owed a debt you never thought you could repay?

“Maybe,” Ari said slowly, “this is my chance to pay him back.” Ari hoped Molly realized the full implications of her sentence. She wouldn’t back down, and she wouldn’t stay out of the investigation, short of being arrested.

“Please be careful,” Molly said.

Touched by the sentiment, Ari gently rested her hand over Molly’s. When she made no effort to remove it, the detective’s eyes widened at the sight.

“Is this all right?” Ari asked, smiling shyly. “You look a little shocked.”

Her eyes still frozen to the spot, Molly answered, “I didn’t think you held hands with women.”

Ari smiled. “Well, I enjoy it, but it’s been a while.” She stroked Molly’s large hands and long fingers. For a fleeting moment, she imagined them deep inside her.

Molly sat there, too petrified to return the gesture. Somehow, in the midst of a murder investigation, they had wound up together, looking at the stars and listening to jazz. Molly didn’t have
planned
dates that went this well.

The chaise was so comfortable. She leaned back, concentrating on Ari’s caress. Her hand was like silk and Molly imagined the rest of Ari’s body would be just as smooth and soft.

She brought Ari’s hand to her lips, kissing each fingertip lightly. Ari smiled, and that was all the encouragement Molly needed. She pulled Ari on top of her, and stared into her green eyes. Ari bent to kiss her mouth, but Molly shook her head no. “Not yet,” she whispered. “I just want to touch you right now. I want to know every part of you.” Molly reached underneath Ari’s T-shirt and caressed her back, a sensation that gave Ari goose pimples. She wore no bra and her hardened nipples stood erect against the fabric. Ari stared into Molly’s twinkling eyes, made bluer by the moonlight. Her gaze fell to her chest and Molly’s agile hands, moving slowly under the shirt, her thumbs teasing Ari’s nipples. Ari moaned. Molly pushed Ari down on her back and let her hands slide down Ari’s abdomen. She made slow circles around Ari’s navel, her fingertips barely making contact with the cool flesh. Unable to stand anymore, Ari unbuttoned her shorts, but Molly clasped her hands together and brought them to her lips. “No.” Ari gave Molly a look of frustration, but nodded. Molly’s gaze wandered to Ari’s calves. Like every other part of her body, her legs were muscular, and Molly took her time feeling each curve. She worked her way up to Ari’s creamy white inner thighs, one of Molly’s favorite parts of the female body. Here, she would not use her hands. She brought her lips to Ari’s skin. Ari gasped as Molly’s kisses drew closer to her center, and when the detective’s tongue started working its way under her panties, she gasped.

Suddenly Molly blinked. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Only for a few minutes.” Ari’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You must have been having some dream. You looked entirely satisfied.”

Molly’s face turned beet red. “God, I’m sorry,” she said, standing up abruptly. “You invite me over and I’m snoring on your lounge.” She shuffled her feet, not meeting Ari’s gaze. “I should go.” Ari tried to protest, but Molly’s eyes were riveted to the front door, her exit from embarrassment. With her hand safely on the knob, she finally turned to Ari, expecting the beautiful woman to be angry or upset, but Ari simply touched her cheek.

“You need some rest,” Ari whispered, her breath smelling of mint.

They were inches apart, Molly keenly aware of the electricity between them and unable to believe it was actually happening. Ari caressed her face, and their foreheads touched. “I want to get to know you, Molly.”

At the sound of her name, Molly became rooted to the carpet. Her hand dropped from the doorknob and she stood motionless, feeling much like a tree trunk. She closed her eyes, sensing Ari’s kiss before she felt the soft lips against her own.

Chapter Seven

Tuesday, June 19

7:48 a.m.

“Fourteen, twelve,” Jane announced as she served the ball into the left corner. It bobbed between the two walls and Ari managed to bounce it off the back glass before it struck the ground. They mercilessly pounded the racquetball, attempting winning shots, until Ari smashed one so low that it skidded across the hardwood. While she won the point, Jane won the game on the next serve, and proceeded to bellow a few bars of the
Rocky
theme and do a little victory dance.

Ari started to pack up, pretending to be disgusted by her antics. Jane would never win any good sportsmanship awards. They were equally matched and both hated to lose—only Ari didn’t dance when she won. Dripping in sweat, they retreated to the locker rooms. Playing racquetball with Jane was a catch-22— she hated exercising, but she loved the energetic high that followed a workout. If only there was a way to feel that good just from lying on her patio lounge chair.

Standing stark naked, Jane put her hands on her hips and confronted Ari. “Now, I want to know what’s on your mind. That was the most apathetic racquetball game we’ve played in a long time. You weren’t there and I want to know what you’re thinking about. Is it Bob?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, a wave of guilt came over Ari. She should have been thinking about Bob, but instead her thoughts were about Molly and their kiss, which apparently wasn’t very good. She just shrugged her shoulders and prayed Jane would let it go. Half of the time Jane lost interest in a subject almost as quickly as it was mentioned, so Ari used the shoulder shrug on a regular basis.

“Well, I’m waiting. You know how much I like to win, but only if I feel it’s a righteous victory.”

Ari rolled her eyes. “God Jane, it was a racquetball game, not a civil rights march.”

Making no effort to put on any clothes, Jane sat down on a nearby bench and stretched out. “If it’s not Bob, then it’s a woman.” Ari didn’t answer. She continued her methodical routine for dressing, working from toe to head. Jane actually liked watching Ari dress. Although she didn’t want to date Ari, she certainly loved looking at her perfect body, and with Ari’s dressing system, her breasts were almost always the last to be covered.

Ari pulled her shirt over her head and sighed. Jane was staring at her. Clearly, Jane wasn’t losing interest. “Okay, the lead detective on Bob’s case is totally hot, and we had a few unpleasant run- ins, and I think she kinda blames me for Bob running off, but I think she’s attracted to me too. She’s sort of threatened to arrest me if I don’t stop interfering, but we made up. Anyway, she came over to my apartment last night and we kissed and then she just ran out the door without saying anything.”

Jane sat there, her mouth open.

“Well?” Ari asked.

“I’m processing. Give me a moment.”

Ari watched Jane formulate questions in her mind and reject each one. At one point, she started to open her mouth, and then she closed it. She knew that Ari hated to talk about her love life, so she needed to choose her questions carefully. Finally she smiled and asked, “What do you like about her?”

Ari sat down next to her friend and Jane saw she was blushing. “Everything. I mean I think she’s gorgeous, but what really gets me is her personality.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. That response means nothing. It’s just the politically correct statement. What
specifically
do you like about her—and remember, you’re talking to me. So if you’re only attracted to her enormous breasts or her marvelous ass, that’s okay.”

Ari chuckled. “Well, I don’t know her enough to say exactly. She was just impressive, yeah, I guess that’s the word. And I felt like there was something between us immediately.”

“Okay, don’t quit your day job. It’s apparent you’re never going to be a novel writer because you suck at description.”

“Look, I can’t explain it, okay?” Ari shrilled.

“So she’s a knockout?” Jane teased.

“Well, I think so, but I mean, she’s not your stereotypical beauty.”

“You mean like you.”

“Right,” Ari retorted. She grabbed her gym bag, avoiding Jane’s gaze.

Jane knew the conversation was practically over. She rose and dressed quickly, not worrying about which item of clothing went on first.

“So, you kissed her and nothing happened,” Jane summarized, slamming her locker shut.

“Well, I thought the kiss was great, but right after it was over she bolted out the door.” Ari paused, remembering the look of panic on Molly’s face. “Maybe I’m not her type,” Ari concluded. “I kissed her and she just ran out. She didn’t do anything.”

“Did you? Did you try to stop her?”

Ari smirked. She hated it when Jane used logic, which occurred as often as a Halley’s Comet sighting.

“As hard as it may be for you to believe this, Ari, you might have to be the aggressor. It’s very possible she’s intimidated by you.” A few women strolled by in various states of undress. Jane’s eyes followed a shapely brunette to the showers.

Ari shook her head. “Why would anyone be intimidated by me?”

Jane’s head spun back to Ari. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ari, you’re perfect. Perfect looking, perfect personality, perfect home, and you rarely do anything stupid.” When Ari started to protest, Jane held up a hand. “Answer one question. Do you, or do you not, arrange your spices in alphabetical order?” Ari fidgeted. “I rest my case. You are totally anal, and everything you do is just so . . .” Jane searched for the word.

“Boring,” Ari stated.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say. You’re just so
right
.”

“I don’t believe this.” Ari hoisted her gym bag over her shoulder and walked toward the exit. The summer heat assaulted her the minute she opened the door. It was almost criminal to be this hot at nine in the morning, she thought.

Jane fell in step, choosing her words carefully. “Honey, it’s nothing you do intentionally. It’s just who you are, and the fact is, some people are uncomfortable.”

“That is ridiculous,” Ari argued with little enthusiasm.

Jane smiled smugly. She’d made her point. “Are you coming to the office today?”

“No, I’m going home to change, and then I thought I’d visit with Russ Swanson. I’ll call you later,” Ari said, closing the truck door.

However, her plans quickly changed when the secretary informed her that Mr. Swanson was with a detective. Ari could only imagine who that was, and she had every intention of staying out of Molly’s way, at least in the professional sense. Most likely, she wouldn’t have much luck romantically either. Molly had responded to Ari’s pass with total disinterest, almost revulsion. Or had it been something else? Maybe she wasn’t ready for a relationship, or Jane’s theory might be correct, and Ari would have to take charge.

She checked her watch. It was nine o’clock, and the Speedy Copy would be open. If she couldn’t speak with Russ Swanson, she’d talk to Kristen Duke, the person who saw Bob before Michael Thorndike’s murder. Bob had said that he was training her for management, and since the Tempe store was the largest and most important in the chain, it was possible that he had checked in with her.

Ari headed for Tempe, Phoenix’s neighboring college town and home to Arizona State University. The two cities were separated by the Salt River, a laughable name considering the puddle of water it usually contained. She crossed the historic Mill Avenue Bridge and puttered along the main drag, stopping at the eight traffic lights that lined the one mile stretch. Filled with coffee shops, boutiques and antique stores, many of which were still housed in the original brick buildings from the 1920s, Mill Avenue was the heart of Tempe. Historic clashed with nouveau, old timers melded with the punkers and the upper echelon endured the taunts of the street people.

Nestled between a Fifties-type diner and a hat shop, Speedy Copy enjoyed a prime location just across the street from the university. Obtaining the lease ten years ago was the smartest move Bob Watson ever made. Now it was his flagship store and accounted for over one-third of his total monthly business. Inside it was easy to see why he prospered. The store was filled with students, most of whom were feeding the self-serve machines with change. Ari could hear the money piling up.

At the counter a businessman in a blue pin-striped suit argued with a young woman whose name tag identified her as Kristen. The man suddenly stormed away, and Kristen shrugged her shoulders. She’d probably just seen her twenty-first birthday, dressed in tight black pants and a sheer black top that didn’t cover her pierced belly button. Five studs lined each ear and her big doe eyes were heavily defined with black mascara. She was going for the goth look as evidenced by her two-toned hair, bleached blond except for the dark brown roots. For a split second Ari thought that she recognized Kristen from a fashion advertisement.

“May I help you?” she asked, her lips barely parting to form the words.

Ari pulled a flyer from her briefcase and set it on the counter. At the sight of the crime scene, Kristen balked. “What the hell? Are you a reporter?” She shoved the flyer back at Ari, color rising to her cheeks.

“No, I’m Bob’s real estate agent, Ari Adams.” Ari stuck her hand out and Kristen shook it, still rather suspicious. “I happened to be in the area, and I need some more of these made. Could you do that for me?” Ari held the flyer out, and Kristen took it reluctantly.

“How many do you need?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the paper.

“Well, hopefully only another hundred,” Ari answered, trying to steer the conversation. “Now that we’re past that terrible mess, I’m hoping it will sell quickly.” Kristen scribbled instructions on a form, oblivious to Ari’s attempt at conversation. She tried again. “Of course, Bob is the main suspect, and he’s still missing.”