Deadly Intersections (14 page)

She found him in a booth chatting up the waitress who topped off his coffee. When he glanced in her direction she pasted on a pleasant smile for his benefit.

“Hi, honey. How about some coffee?”

She nodded, and the waitress filled her cup while she settled into the seat across from him. She didn’t bother to pick up a menu, her emotions killing her appetite.

Jack frowned. “You’re not eating.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He said nothing else and continued to study the entrees. When the waitress returned to take the order he glanced at her, but she looked away.

They sat in silence, Ari avoiding his stare. He drummed his fingers on the Formica tabletop and she noticed his wedding ring. He and her mother had divorced several years before her mother’s death, but she couldn’t remember him wearing his ring—not even at her funeral.

“Not that I think you’ll tell me,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “but just so you know your old man is somewhat observant and his memory is unaffected by his age, I’ll ask you what’s wrong.”

“I’m okay.”

“Nope, I disagree. When you skip breakfast something’s buggin’ you. That’s how your mother and I survived your teenage years. She’d serve a plate of eggs and if you didn’t eat, I’d quietly excuse myself so the two of you could talk.” He chuckled. “You were the only kid I knew who’d eat eggs at seven at night except when you were hurting.” He paused and sighed. “I guess we can’t count on your mom’s help here anymore.”

Her eyes dropped to the table as she willed herself not to cry. “There’s just some stuff going on right now,” she said simply.

“Work stuff or personal stuff?”

“Both, I guess. More personal stuff.”

She looked into his eyes and saw none of the hatred and judgment that she remembered from the past, from the night he had disowned her and banished her from the house. In the end it had been his undoing. He lost his daughter and his wife, who divorced him soon after.

She couldn’t erase the memory completely, but she felt compelled to take a step forward, not for him but for Molly. She owed him nothing and Molly everything.

“Actually, Dad, there’s someone in my life. Someone important.”

A tentative smile crossed his face. “I’m glad. What does she do?”

“She’s a cop.”

He didn’t look surprised. “Does she work downtown?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What division?”

“I don’t want to go into it yet. I’m not ready for you to meet her.”

He patted her hand. “I’m sure whatever’s going on will work out.”

She smiled in relief, grateful for the words even if she wasn’t sure he was right.

The subject dropped when his breakfast appeared. He pointed to his plate with his fork. “You sure you don’t want any?”

She shook her head and watched him shovel the food into his mouth in typical cop mode. Her mother had berated him endlessly for his poor table manners, certain that Ari and her brother Richie would follow suit.

“Sol and I went to the Suns game last night. Double overtime.”

“Great,” she said with little enthusiasm. “Did they win?”

“Oh, yeah. Steve Nash nailed a jumper with two seconds left. It was just beautiful.”

Ari grinned. They’d found some neutral ground. They spent fifteen minutes talking basketball, the Phoenix Suns and Jack’s adopted team, the Portland Trailblazers.

“Can I ask you something as a cop?”

He took a sip of coffee and looked at her thoughtfully, obviously surprised by the abrupt shift in the conversation. She figured if she couldn’t talk to Molly about her suspicions, he was the next best person.

“Did you ever just have a hunch that someone had committed a crime but you couldn’t prove it?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Happens all the time. I probably had a hundred cases where I knew the perp, but I couldn’t prove it.” He leaned closer and pointed a finger at her. “One time the guy actually confessed to me after the judge threw out the case.”

Ari’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”

Jack cleared his throat and adopted a proper expression. “As an officer sworn to uphold the law and live by judicial ethics there wasn’t anything I could do.”

She knew her father better, and her raised eyebrow told him so.

“Actually he had an unfortunate run of bad luck when he got nailed for breaking and entering. Wound up in the joint because of his priors and some of his old friends put a shiv in his back.”

“I suppose that’s karma at work.”

“Exactly.” He paused and said, “So why are you askin’?”

“I have this client who’s the sleaziest person I’ve ever met. I think he’s capable of most anything.”

“What do you think he did?”

She hesitated. If she told him the truth, he’d run to Sol and Molly immediately and she’d look like a fool. She had no proof. Until she got some there wasn’t anything to investigate.

“I’m not really sure, fraud at least.”

“Well, my best advice is to keep watching and listening. Most criminals make mistakes, and if they think they’re hot shit they tend to make
more
mistakes.”

She nodded. “Thanks. That’s good advice.”

His face brightened. “Really? A compliment? I think I’m blushing.”

The check came, and the conversation dwindled as they drifted out to the parking lot in silence.

Jack finally said, “I’d really like to see you once more before I leave on Friday, maybe Jane too.”

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check my schedule and ask Jane.”

His expression suggested he knew he was getting the brush-off. “Sure. I understand. Three meals in a week after a four year absence is probably pushing it.”

Ari snorted. “Dad, it’s not that—”

“Of course it is, honey. And that’s okay. It’s just that eventually I want us to get to the point where we’re gonna say everything that needs to be said.”

Ari shrugged. “Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, clearly stunned.

“I mean, I think that parts of the past are best left there. I don’t want to go back.”

“I know that, honey,” he said gently. “But I want us to move forward. You’re all I have.”

His words hung in the air as a group of women walked between them and dissolved the conversation.

“Look, Dad, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

She turned and walked away, almost disappointed when he didn’t call to her.

A throng of sixth-graders passed Ari as she strolled toward One Desert Plaza, the home of the Hometown Grocery Corporation and Stan Wertz’s executive office. Located near the Arizona Science Center and Heritage Square, the three entities made for eclectic partners. The Science Center and Heritage Square were major draws for tourists and students, the technology of the future literally a stone’s throw away from the series of incredible homes from the late 1880’s, which now served as businesses or museums.

She glanced toward the Teeter House and smiled. She had wonderful memories of her mother taking her there for tea and cookies. Those were the most precious times of her life, remembering the two of them sitting in their best outfits—they always dressed up to go to tea—and her mother giggling and making up stories about the people who passed by.  She blinked away some tears and took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed. After years of being isolated and apart from family, she’d had breakfast with her father and vivid memories of her mother all in the same morning.

She found a bench and sat down for a moment. Stan Wertz could wait. She glanced at the parking garage where only a week ago she’d found Warren Edgington in his car with the shiny tower nearby. How difficult it would be for Wertz to kill Edington and get back to his office? But he had no motive that she could find and if anything, it looked like they were friends. He’d never had any business dealings with Edgington. And could someone force you to drink alcohol and drugs? How would he do that? There’d been no signs of struggle. None of it made sense, and she knew she was probably allowing her hatred to cloud her judgment. She
wanted
him to be guilty of something, but she wanted her commission too.

She rose and strolled purposefully through the front doors of the enormous office complex. It didn’t surprise her that his offices covered the entire top floor of the building, and the ride up the twenty-two stories made her ears pop. The elevator opened directly in front of a receptionist who sat behind a massive mahogany desk. She waited patiently noticing that every stick of furniture and every piece of equipment was top dollar.

“Ms. Adams, please take this corridor to the first desk you see,” the receptionist said pleasantly. She pointed to Ari’s right but dared not leave her post.

She only glanced at one of the Hometown Grocery photos that lined the hallway, unwilling to look at endless pictures of Stan Wertz. She arrived in front of a petite woman in a very expensive silk blouse. Her brown hair cascaded around her face and Ari thought she should be in a shampoo commercial. The woman looked up from her computer with a pleasant smile.

“You must be Ms. Adams, Mr. Wertz’s real estate agent. I’m Candy, Mr. Wertz’s personal assistant. Let me show you in.”

Ari realized this was the woman who’d had an affair with Warren Edgington. Did she still care for him? Certainly she wouldn’t give a false alibi for Wertz if she did.

They approached the expansive oak door. Candy cleared her throat and prepared to knock. It was as if she was rehearsing for the simple task of announcing a visitor, and she was worried that she wouldn’t get it right. When her knuckles finally touched the door, she paused and waited for permission to enter the inner sanctum. They took a few steps inside, Wertz appearing not to notice them, his gaze focused on the enormous computer monitor that sat on his desk.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said gruffly. “Look around. Candy, honey, will you get me a gin and tonic? Ari, what would you like? I’ve got everything you could imagine and Candy’s first career was as a bartender. She’s a wiz.”

Candy rolled her eyes, and Ari suppressed a chuckle. “I’d just like a sparkling water,” she answered.

Candy busied herself behind the bar while she strolled around his office, stopping in front of a model that sat in the center of the room.
Hometown City Center
was written in block lettering in the lower left corner. No wonder the building was so much bigger than a Hometown Grocery. She remembered the article she’d read online and Wertz’s desire to rival the big box stores. She saw the streets that bordered the store—Elliott and Alma School—one of the busiest corners in Chandler, a neighboring suburb of Phoenix.

She turned her thoughts to business and seated herself on his expensive leather sofa. She pulled several files from her briefcase and strategically arranged them on the glass coffee table so that he could see the variety of houses from which he could choose. She’d spent the entire morning creating color-coded portfolios for each price range, and she’d included several glossy photos of each property and its amenities, hoping he could be distracted from the house at the top of the butte.

Candy took his drink to his desk and brought her the sparkling water in a crystal glass, setting it delicately on a handcrafted ivory coaster. When Ari looked up, she flashed a seductive smile and touched her shoulder. “Would you like anything else?”

She shook her head, but Candy continued to hover, exposing her cleavage and the hot pink bra that held it all in place. Her smile broadened when she realized Ari had indeed noticed her perfect breasts, and she squeezed her shoulder. “Let me know if you change your mind. I make an incredible margarita.”

She smiled pleasantly and watched her sashay out of the office. She sipped her water and glanced at Wertz, his hands flying across the keyboard while he stared intently at the screen. He smacked the last key with a deliberate stroke and rose from his chair. Instead of immediately joining her, he tugged at the tailored cuffs of his dress shirt, straightened his tie and put on his suit jacket as though he were changing his image before beginning their meeting.

“I’m in a great mood, Ari,” he announced. “By this time next year the Hometown City Center will be open, and FoodCo will be crying their eyes out. You’re looking at a man who staged a major coup.”

“Really?” she said, hoping she looked appropriately interested. “How’s that?”

“I got the last great piece of commercial real estate in Chandler. FoodCo wanted it, but I got it. That new center will totally shift the demographics in my favor. I will dominate that area and FoodCo will be lucky to turn a profit.”

“How did you manage to pull that off?”

She knew the surveyors for large companies were always a step ahead of the smaller ones because they often had inside information from city planners and real estate brokers. If he’d bested FoodCo he needed leverage.

“Persuasion,” he said slyly. “I beat them because I am truly more persuasive.” He joined her on the sofa and set his drink on the coffee table. “What did you learn about the house I want?”