White Offerings

• Acknowledgments
  
• About the Author
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  
• Chapter Twenty-Four
  
• Chapter Twenty-Five
  
• Chapter Twenty-Six
  
• Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
• Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
• Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
• Chapter Thirty
  
• Chapter Thirty-One
  
• Chapter Thirty-Two
  
• Chapter Thirty-Three
  
• Chapter Thirty-Four
  
• Chapter Thirty-Five
  
• Chapter Thirty-Six
  
• Chapter Thirty-Seven
  
• Chapter Thirty-Eight
  
• Chapter Thirty-Nine
  
• Publications from Bella Books, Inc.
  

Copyright © 2008 by Ann Roberts

Bella Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 10543

Tallahassee, FL 32302

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

First Edition

Editor: Christi Cassidy

Cover designer: LA Callaghan

ISBN-10: 1-59493-121-6

ISBN-13: 978-1-59493-121-5

I’ll admit my ignorance about many things, and I’m indebted to those who know more than I—

LC for her knowledge of police work

My buddy Abe for his techno-savvy

Linda Hill and everyone at Bella for their support

Christi Cassidy who makes my writing better each time our paths cross

Amy, who teaches me about myself, love and so much more

This one’s for Alex, my son, the future budding writer. Someday you’ll be old enough to read your mother’s books.

No, not yet.

Ann Roberts is a lifelong educator who lives in Arizona with her family. She is the author of
Paid in Full, Furthest from the Gate, Brilliant
and
Beach Town.
She can be reached at annroberts.net.

Saturday, October 14th

2:13 AM

The sound of pounding feet grew louder and meant one thing—he was closer. She willed herself to move faster, cursing the tight skirt and stiletto pumps that slowed her down. He sloshed through several puddles on the dark street, ones she’d avoided just moments before. She realized he’d already turned the corner and she was in view. A narrow alley lay ahead, illuminated by a naked, yellow bulb that hung over a massive steel delivery door.

She’d wheeled to her right heading toward the alley when her heel settled into an ancient pothole. She gasped and lurched forward. Gravity demanded she fall, ending the chase and her life, but she fought to stay upright, her strong legs and back preventing a collision with the concrete. She increased her speed again, but her ankle screamed in pain. The misstep cost her valuable seconds, and she knew he was gaining on her. Resisting the urge to look back, she pumped her arms harder and entered the black mouth of the alley. Darkness lay ahead and there was no way out. At any point she could careen into a brick wall or fence, but the alternative was worse.

Her ankle throbbed and her feet slowed. He was right behind her, his heavy breathing audible. If she could reach the end of the alley, a sliver of hope existed. She lengthened her stride and felt a hand graze her shoulder. She cried out and lunged forward. He reached for her again, this time grabbing some strands of hair, but she kept going. And then the pavement beneath her disappeared.

Jane’s eyes flew open and she gasped, a spasm of terror shooting through her body. The one-night stand sleeping next to her didn’t awaken. She glanced at the window and the slash of moonlight illuminating the bedroom. She sat up slowly, her head lolling between her knees. She knew before she looked at the nightstand that the digital display on her clock would show it was somewhere around two. Sure enough, it was 2:13. When her heart rate returned to normal, she rose from the bed, realizing this was the third nightmare in less than a week. She moved toward the window, conscious she was naked but comforted by the bright full moon.

She saw it instantly, haloed by the nearby streetlight. A white orchid lay on her front walk.

Saturday, October 14th

7:55 AM

A shrill ring ripped Ari from a deep sleep. She dislodged herself from Molly’s strong arms and reached for her cell phone. “Ari Adams.”

“God, Ari, I’m sorry to call this early, but I waited as long as I could. I’ve been up since two this morning, so I figured if I wake up my best friend at eight on a Saturday, after sitting in my condo for six terrifying hours already, then I’m still being rather considerate, don’t you think?”

She rubbed her eyes, still half asleep. “Sweetie, slow down. I can’t understand everything you’re saying.”

“I got another orchid during the night. Somebody left it on my front walk, and now I’m totally freaking out.”

“Oh, no. Okay, honey. It’s okay.”

Molly sat up, her face full of concern.

She covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Jane got another orchid.”

Molly shook her head and fell back against the pillow. “She needs to hire a PI.”

She stroked Molly’s blond curls as Jane continued to rant. While she loved Jane dearly, it was difficult to know whether a true emergency existed or if her melodramatic nature was responsible for the quake in her voice. Jane continued to barrel through her description while Molly kissed each of Ari’s fingertips, and she struggled to focus on the conversation. She knew it would only be a matter of seconds before Molly began sucking on each one, an act of foreplay she couldn’t resist.

“Ari, what should I do?” Jane moaned.

Molly’s lips closed around her middle finger, and Ari swallowed a sigh. “Jane, why don’t we meet at my office at ten? I’m not having an open house today, but I have to go in to do some paperwork. We can have some coffee and talk, okay?” She hoped she didn’t sound too rushed.

“Wait a minute,” Jane said suspiciously. “Are you with Molly? You are, aren’t you? You guys are doing it. Holy shit, Ari! I’m trying to talk to you about my potential murder, and you’re getting it on with your girlfriend.”

She took a deep breath. “Jane, there’s nothing I can do right now. Give me a couple hours and I’ll help you figure this out. I promise. If it takes all day, we’ll work on it, okay?” She knew the prospect of spending a whole day together while talking about herself would definitely appeal to Jane.

Jane sighed. “Fine. I just hope that I’m not kidnapped or tortured between now and then. You’ll feel really bad if my maimed and mutilated body goes undiscovered for weeks.”

“No, I’d find it before then. I’ll see you in a few.” Before Jane could respond, she flipped her phone shut and tossed it on the nightstand. She retreated back into Molly’s pleasurable embrace, savoring the gentle kisses Molly planted on her collarbone.

“I take it Jane is upset.”

“Yes, this is the fourth orchid that someone has left. I’m beginning to get a little worried about this.”

Molly’s expression sobered, and much to Ari’s dismay, she sat up on her elbow. “Tell me again, when did this start?”

“About two weeks ago. She found the first one in her cubicle at work. She didn’t think anything of it. She thought maybe a grateful client had left it. She’d closed a few deals that week, and she assumed it was from one of them.”

“Did she check that out? Make some phone calls?”

Ari shook her head. Molly stared at the far wall, lost in her thoughts. She knew Molly was moving deeper into cop mode, and once Detective Molly Nelson fully crowded her entire persona, she might as well get out of bed and start the day. “Jane hasn’t done anything proactive. She just has her suspicions.” She snuggled against Molly and kissed her cheek, allowing her hands to roam across her body. “I really don’t want to talk about Jane anymore. I’ll help her figure it out later.”

Molly cupped Ari’s face in her hands. “You need to promise me that you won’t do anything dangerous.”

She bit her lip. She’d nearly been killed a few months before, and while she doubted she would ever face that much danger again, she knew Molly was overly cautious about her life. She stared into Molly’s crystal blue eyes. “I’ll be careful.” It would be the perfect opportunity to share her feelings, but she knew Molly wasn’t ready to hear the words.

Molly kissed her and smoothed her hair. “I just . . . well, I worry.”

She knew it was the closest Molly would come to voicing her feelings. “I know.”

A look of relief crossed Molly’s face. “She needs to hire a PI. The police won’t do anything because technically no crime has been committed.”

“I promise I’ll suggest that to her when I see her,” she said, quickly dismissing Jane’s problems. She would spend the day with Jane, but right now she was in bed with Molly, who also was slated to work a stakeout in a few hours. It was a step toward promotion, and it meant Molly would spend more time on the job. She was not going to waste precious moments of intimacy on other matters. She rolled on top of Molly and made sure the next hour was quality time.

Saturday, October 14th

9:28 AM

Molly parked the Chevy Caprice along the curb across from the industrial office park. Her partner, Andre Williams, handed her a black coffee and reclined the passenger seat to accommodate his lanky frame. Neither of them spoke; they had exhausted all small talk yesterday afternoon. Today was their third day in a joint stakeout with the FBI, and although other officers had told her that this operation, which had accidentally fallen into her lap, was a key to promotion, the waiting was killing her. She glanced at Andre, who looked more like a Wall Street financier than a cop in his well-pressed, dark gray suit and perfectly knotted tie. She surveyed her own appearance. It was a Saturday and for her that meant business casual—jeans, button-down shirt and a sports blazer. She’d grown accustomed to their fashion differences and she had accepted, for the most part, that he would always look more professional.

She sipped her coffee and gazed through the windshield at the brown metal door that had become the center of their lives for the last few days. The FBI was sure that New York crime lord Vince Carnotti was running his Arizona drug operation through this nondescript industrial office complex that sat just south of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. The Cactus Airpark was a lookalike for the six other facilities that lined Mohave Road. It was the ideal place to go unnoticed since the tenants’ hours varied and traffic was inconsistent. A plane could glide through the large double doors that were common to each building, and she knew these establishments were ripe for hiding whatever, or whoever, didn’t want to be seen.

The radio squawked and the familiar voice of Connie Rasp, the lead field agent for the detail, warbled through the static. “Nora twenty-six, come in.”

Molly grabbed the microphone. “Go ahead.”

“Morning. You guys got anything out there?”

“Negative.”

Rasp sighed. “Nothing here either, and no sign of your informant. Hang tight.”

Molly frowned. “Copy.”

“That’s not good,” Andre said.

She swallowed hard and tried to push aside the worry that crept into her mind. Dudley Moon, known as Itchy on the street, was one of her informants and the reason she and Andre had become involved with the feds. He had been busted ten days ago for fencing stolen goods, and when the arresting officers found a pound of cocaine in the pocket of his army jacket, he refused to talk to anyone but Molly. He had insisted he wasn’t running drugs, but he was vague about the details, except that the drugs belonged to the Carnotti family. She convinced him to make a deal, knowing he wasn’t the prison type. A small, skinny man who looked like a teenager even though he was almost thirty, he knew he’d be somebody’s slave within the first week of incarceration. Self-preservation and a belief that the government could protect him drove Itchy to become a snitch.