White Offerings (18 page)

“Your assistant has the day off?” Andre asked, pointing to the vacant desk, which Molly noticed was devoid of any personal belongings.

“We’re in the middle of a restructuring. Several employees have been let go or been reassigned.”

She let the lame explanation go without comment. Rondo led them into a spacious corner office with glass on two sides. He had an incredible view of Camelback Mountain, Piestewa Peak and much of the Central Corridor high-rises in between. The office befitted the CEO of a large company, complete with reading area and wet bar. The walls were covered with B-movie posters, mostly alien thrillers depicting large-breasted women holding some sort of weapon. To Molly, they equated to photos usually found on garage calendars, but because they were cartoons, they seemed less offensive. She imagined that Rondo and many of his goons enjoyed staring at the scantily clad caricatures. Behind his desk was a credenza full of framed photos of him with his wife and two sons, creating a balance between skirt-chaser and family man. He motioned for them to sit and dropped his large frame into an expensive executive chair.

“How can I help you?”

She and Andre had worked a strategy in the car, one that required her to let him lead the conversation. She hated being in the second chair, but she’d been a cop long enough to recognize that macho men responded better to other men.

Andre glanced at his notepad and cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s start with the basics. Do you know a man named Dudley Moon? On the street he goes by Itchy.”

Rondo shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

“So you wouldn’t have any idea how his body and severed head wound up in a trunk at the airport?”

Rondo held up his huge hands and Molly noticed he wore no rings, not even a wedding band. His wrist, however, sported an extremely expensive watch. “Look, detectives, I’m a businessman. Despite what the feds think, I don’t get involved with my family. Yeah, Vinnie’s my cousin, and every year we exchange Christmas presents, and we see each other once or twice. He’s family, but I don’t know anything about his business.”

It was a well-rehearsed speech, one that Molly imagined he’d delivered to the FBI and the Justice Department. “So are you suggesting that Vince Carnotti had something to do with the execution of Dudley Moon?”

Rondo paled, recognizing his mistake. “I’m not suggesting it. You are. Why else would you be here?”

“Maybe because we’re interested in Rondo Dynamics,” Andre said. “Maybe we’d like to learn more about your company. What exactly do you do here, Mr. Rondo?”

He shifted in his seat and smiled pleasantly at Andre’s question. “Rondo Dynamics and the Johnson Corporation are largely middlemen who deal in the buying and selling of medical equipment and parts.”

Molly recognized the advantage of Rondo’s role: much money and goods traded hands, and if anything was laundered along the way, it would be very difficult to prove. It was the perfect cover. “What can you tell us about Cactus Airpark?” she asked, unable to keep silent any longer. “We were told that a drug buy might be occurring, and when we went out there, the entire place was abandoned. It looked like someone tipped them off. Do you know anything about that?”

Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Rondo, who smiled easily. It was obvious they couldn’t prove anything, and he showed no sign of discomfort. “I assure you there wasn’t any drug buy happening on that property. Right now Cactus Airpark is undergoing a major renovation. Many of our tenants have found other arrangements in the meantime. I’m sure that’s what you saw.”

“Of course,” Andre answered.

Molly tapped Andre on the arm with the back of her hand. “I’ll bet the construction crews are on their way over there right now to knock out a few walls and install some new plumbing.”

Rondo chuckled. “I assure you that I have all of the proper paperwork for the project. Would you like to see the plans?” He grabbed a roll of drawings from behind him and dropped them onto his desk with great ceremony.

Andre leaned forward. “I just want to make sure I’m clear, in case we have to have another conversation downtown at some point. You don’t know anything about the murder of Itchy Moon.”

Rondo shook his head. “No, I wish I could help you, but I don’t make it a habit to associate with street people.”

“Does that include prostitutes?” Molly asked pointedly.

Rondo glared at her. “Detective, in case you haven’t noticed, I am a happily married man.” They glanced at the photos displayed on Rondo’s credenza, all of them depicting two beautiful children with angelic smiles, their arms wrapped around Rondo and his wife, a buxom beauty. Molly was certain her oversized chest was financed by Rondo’s money-laundering deals.

“Half of the men in America are married and have visited a prostitute,” she said. “Having a family doesn’t exempt you. We do know you’ve spent quite a bit more time and money at the High Life than most married men.”

Rondo didn’t answer, but she knew she’d hit a nerve, and the façade crumbled. “Detectives, I think it’s time you left. I have nothing else to say.” He strolled to the office door and opened it, waiting for them to exit.

She could feel Rondo’s eyes on her back as she went down the hallway. The man was too smart to slam his door shut in a huff, leaving them to accidentally veer down the wrong corridor and deeper into the heart of Rondo Dynamics. It wasn’t until they were within sight of the receptionist that Molly heard the door close.

“That guy is so transparent,” Andre said when they got in their car. “Do you think he killed Itchy?”

“Oh, he’s definitely involved.”

She could feel the acid in her stomach starting to churn. There was something bothering her, something she knew she should remember from their meeting with Rondo, and she was missing it. She pulled her notebook from her jacket pocket and drew a circle. She put Itchy at the center and drew circles around him. She included Rondo, Carnotti and Rusty. The she added one more and put a question mark in the middle. Her stomachache flared at the thought of a fellow officer on the take. Yet it was too coincidental. She thought of Jack Adams and his hunches. He was highly respected, and Carnotti must have sighed in relief when Jack stepped away from his suspicions. She pulled her cell phone out and punched in the numbers for Sol Gardener’s secretary. It clicked immediately to voice mail, and Molly found herself relieved.

“Hey, Mona, it’s Molly Nelson. Can you call me back on my cell? I need the number for Jack Adams.”

Wednesday, October 18th

1:45 PM

Ari’s morning was an enjoyable whirlwind of activity. As a real estate agent, the best part of her job was a closing, a moment when she got to present a buyer with the keys to his new house or a seller with the good news that the deal was sealed and a check was waiting. Either way meant a payday for her and today she closed two transactions, a rare but lucrative event. Of course, one of the deals had stalled in escrow over bureaucratic paperwork by an incompetent title officer, and she should have been paid two weeks before. But she always welcomed a commission—even if it was late. And two in the same day was a great boost for the ego, particularly in a slumping economy.

It was after one o’clock when she finally returned to Southwest Realty after traversing the valley to attend meetings at the different title companies. As she checked her phone messages, a figure crossed the yard pushing a wheelbarrow full of bricks. At first she thought it was Gilberto, the man who gardened for Lorraine, but she realized it was a woman—Jane’s handy-dyke, Teri. She watched Teri stack the bricks into neat piles and cordon off a section of the yard for a planter. Curious, Ari cradled the phone and went out back.

Teri looked up and grinned. “Hey, Ari.”

“Hi, Teri. It’s great to see you, but don’t you have enough to do working on Jane’s investment?”

Teri wiped her hands on her jeans. “You can’t tell Jane I’m here. She would have a fit if she knew I was still doing odd jobs on the side. The fact is, I need the money and I can’t do anything else on the house today. I have the time, but Jane would never understand. Can you keep my secret?”

“Sure.” Ari noticed a planter design sketched haphazardly on a piece of paper, which Teri had pinned to the wooden fence. “I didn’t realize you knew Lorraine or that you did landscaping. Your talent is really amazing.”

Teri blushed and kicked her boot against the grass. “Thanks. I met Lorraine a few years ago when she hired me to remodel this place. I’ve done construction practically my entire life, since I got out of high school. I just like the idea of creating the whole picture, you know. I have these plans for my dream house, and I’ve designed every detail—inside and out.”

Ari could hear the pride in Teri’s voice. She also longed for a home and was tired of living in a condo. Yet she had no idea what she would want, and she hadn’t taken any steps to change her life. Her relationship with Molly was probably a factor, but she didn’t want to analyze it. She pointed to the bricks. “So what will go in these planters?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Because of the exposure, I won’t plant anything that can’t withstand the heat. The sun’s going to shine directly on this area for most of the day, so we don’t want flowers here that are really fragile. They’ll die in a week.”

At the mention of flowers, Ari’s ears pricked up. “Do you know a lot about flowers?”

Teri shrugged. “I’m not a horticulturist, but I’ve studied on my own.”

“Do you have a garden at your place?”

“No, I live in an apartment, so I have to get my fix working for other people.” Teri glanced at her watch and grabbed her pick. “And I need to get started if I’m going to be back at Jane’s investment before she comes by.”

Ari stepped away. “I won’t keep you. See you, Teri.”

“Hey, Ari, how is Jane doing? I heard about what happened.”

“She’s holding up. I think she’s more upset than she wants anyone to believe.”

“So she’s staying with you?” Teri’s voice quivered as she asked the question, as though she were disappointed.

“Yeah, I gave her my spare bedroom. She never wants to go back to her condo.”

Teri nodded and dropped the pick into the lawn. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Ari watched as she ripped a line in the ground, focused on her work. Ari returned to her office and settled into her chair. Her gaze wandered out to Teri, who had found her rhythm with the pick, now an extension of her muscled arms. Ari couldn’t help herself. Watching Teri was like watching a living sculpture. Her body was flawless. She blinked and shook her head.
Why was she having these thoughts?
She replayed the exchange from the beginning, when she saw Teri through the window and walked outside. She’d glanced at the bricks, Teri had spoken with her and she’d seen the sketch—and the stationery with the yellow marigold emblem from Cavanaugh Flowers.

Ari wheeled back around to her computer and pulled up the Cavanaugh Flowers Web site. She scrolled through the home page, learning that the company was the oldest flower shop in Surprise. The Webmaster had included some photos of Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh, as well as a few of the shop. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but she read every word carefully and clicked through all of the links, learning that orchids were indeed very expensive, and she would never pay the price for an elephant orchid. She clicked back to the home page and glanced through her window. She could just go ask Teri if she worked for Cavanaugh Flowers, but if Teri was Jane’s stalker, she wasn’t sure how wise that would be, confronting a crazy woman with a pick. She let out a deep breath. Could Teri really be the stalker? She’d known Jane for a while and seemed to have little interest in her romantically. From what Jane had said Teri had rejected
her
, which wouldn’t give her much motive. Yet Ari’s conversation with Teri in the yard was weird. She sensed there was energy between Teri and Jane that she couldn’t place. Perhaps it was just Teri’s concern—or perhaps it was more. She scrolled through the thumbnails on the Cavanaugh Flowers home page once more, and one photo caught her attention. It was an exterior shot of the greenhouse. At the edge of the picture was the corner of a truck. She enlarged the photo and confirmed her suspicions. The photographer had accidentally included the tailgate of a rusty, banana-yellow Dodge pickup that looked exactly like Teri’s truck.

Wednesday, October 18th

6:48 PM

As was her custom, Molly saved her paperwork for Wednesday nights, the middle of the week, when she knew she could stay as late as she needed. It was her night away from Ari, and while she would have much preferred to be in Ari’s arms, she took a sense of comfort in having the time alone in the building, when she could work in peace and look out on the streets from her fourth-story window. Downtown was busy tonight, and cars streamed toward the parking garages and the Phoenix Suns’ game. She watched the headlights, glowing white eyes slithering along, energizing the downtown’s nightlife.

She glanced at the file on her desk—Itchy’s file—and the gruesome pictures of his body. She flipped through the M.E.’s report again, focusing on the bruise under his eye. Dr. Haynes had confirmed that the indentation was most likely that of a ring with a significant stone. Rondo had worn no jewelry, but that didn’t mean anything. She would need to check around and see if people usually saw him wearing a ring. Judging by the size of his hands, any ring that fit his finger would be huge. He was definitely the prime suspect, only because there was no one else. She realized that the actual doer could have been most anyone on Carnotti’s payroll, but she liked John Rondo, and his connection to the original meeting place Itchy had mentioned tied him to the crime.