Paid in Full (16 page)

“Hey,” Molly whispered.

Ari looked up from her glass, her face turning as red as the wine she’d finished. “I’m sorry. We should probably change the subject. What would you like to talk about?”

Molly cleared her throat. “Actually, there’s something I want to do with you.” Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled seductively.

“Oh?”

Molly threw some bills on the table and led Ari outside, turning toward the gay bar.

“Do you like to dance?” Molly asked, as a Bob Seger tune drifted into the parking lot.

Ari laughed and allowed Molly to lead her into the club and to the dance floor. Several women turned and glanced at them, the sole dancers.

“We’re not exactly dressed to kill,” Molly noted, their tall, sweaty bodies clad in shorts, tank tops and hiking boots.

Ari didn’t care. She and Molly gyrated and twirled, and Ari realized she hadn’t felt this free or uninhibited in a long time. The songs changed again and again, but Ari didn’t want to stop. She and Molly moved to the beat together, their bodies inches apart. Ari was totally aroused by
not
touching Molly. Two more songs played, and Ari realized she couldn’t stand it any longer. As a Madonna tune faded out, Ari grabbed Molly’s belt and planted a kiss on her mouth.

The effect was immediate. Molly took Ari in her arms, her lips and tongue on fire.

“Hey, let’s play one for the lovers on the dance floor,” the DJ announced. A slow kd lang tune wailed over the speakers and bounced around the tiny square footage.

Molly released Ari, and they slowly circled, Molly unsure of what do with her two left feet. She smiled at Ari, feeling like a big dumb oaf. Fast dancing was one thing, but this required actual skill. Ari smiled back and pulled Molly against her, both conscious of their breasts and thighs colliding to the beat, gestures too sexual to be misunderstood. Ari’s hands wandered down Molly’s back, her fingers resting inside the waistband of Molly’s shorts.

Molly groaned and squeezed Ari’s buttocks, leaving no doubt about her growing wetness or her intentions. “We’d better get out of here,” she said, “before I have to arrest myself for lewd and lascivious conduct.”

Ari slammed the apartment door shut and shoved Molly against it. The detective had worked her hormones into a frenzy during the drive to Molly’s place, stroking her thigh and working closer to her crotch with every passing mile. She was in no mood for tenderness, and thankfully, Molly wasn’t either, both of them frantically working buttons and kicking off hiking boots.

“Yes,” Molly murmured, before Ari buried her tongue in the woman’s mouth and pressed against her, their bodies melding together perfectly, their hips finding an erotic rhythm. Ari drank in Molly’s scent—lust, sweat and a fleeting hint of the musky cologne Ari loved. They were back on the mountain, climbing higher and higher, Ari’s heart pounding in her chest, unable to breathe and feeling lightheaded from the rush. Her head lolled back and she whimpered. Higher and higher, closer and closer.

Molly’s eyes were riveted to Ari’s expression. Watching her face shift from pleasure to total abandon brought Molly to the edge of climax. “Come with me,” she whispered, cupping Ari’s buttocks, positioning Ari’s center squarely against her own. “Now,” Ari commanded, unable to prevent the rushing wave overtaking her body.

Molly thrust her pelvis against Ari one last time before she lost control and the orgasm rocked her body. Ari cried out at the same moment and every muscle tensed in response. Her fingernails dug deep into Molly’s back as she held on, her head filling with bright colors.

Somehow Molly carried her to the couch and they stretched out, lying in each other’s arms. Ari’s whole body tingled and they remained still, listening to each other’s heartbeats. When the room stopped spinning and she could breathe again, Ari surveyed the apartment, her eyes instantly drawn to the black baby grand piano that sat in the middle of the room. Everything else was inconsequential. The few pieces of furniture Molly owned were either family rejects or garage sale purchases. Two cheap nature prints hung on the walls, one too high and the other too low. A bookcase made of planks and bricks sat in the corner, a framed family photo on top next to a CD player. It was an interior designer’s nightmare and paled in comparison to Ari’s
House Beautiful
masterpiece.

Without uttering a word, Ari broke from Molly’s embrace. Molly watched her circle the piano and settle on the bench, running her fingers lightly across the keys from one end to the other. The sight of Ari, naked, glowing from sex, and leaning across her prized possession, refueled her desire.

Unaware of her effect on the detective, Ari innocently asked, “How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was a kid.”

Ari’s amazement grew. “You must be really good.”

Molly shrugged off the compliment. “I don’t know. I was never in any competitions or recitals, so I’ve never had anyone to compare myself to. I just play because I like to play.”

“Would you play for me?” Ari asked.

Molly stared at Ari, her head cocked to one side, her black hair cascading over the finished wood, almost as if she were a part of the instrument. She joined her on the bench, and poised her hands over the keys, closing her eyes.

Ari watched Molly’s fingers sail across the keys, mesmerized by the music that suddenly floated around the room. Pictures of her family, friends and past lovers flashed in her mind, a slide show for which Molly provided the music.

The music grew in intensity and tears streamed down Ari’s cheeks, for her father, her brother, her mother, each of the women who had left her—all gone, but mostly for Molly, who would most certainly leave her once she learned of her deception. Ari let her mind focus on the crescendos and their evening, what would most likely be their only evening together. The music ended abruptly before Ari could contain her emotions.

“I didn’t realize I was that bad,” Molly said, wiping away Ari’s tears with her palm.

“No,” was all Ari whispered. Then she added, “I don’t know much about instrumental music. Who’s the composer?”

“I am,” she said with a slight grin.

“You wrote that?” Ari asked. “It’s incredible. Does it have a title?”

Molly blushed. “I call it
Aria
.” Ari’s eyes widened in surprise. Molly cupped the beautiful woman’s face in her hands and kissed her. She pulled away long enough to say, “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I’ve sat down to play this week, I’ve only seen your face.”

The sentiment melted Ari’s heart and her promise to Bob seemed irrelevant, based on a debt from the past that at the moment she couldn’t remember. The words formed in her mouth and just as she was about to betray Bob, Molly smothered her with a kiss that forced the confession back into Ari’s throat and her body down on to the piano bench. Molly hovered over her, gently parting her legs and massaging her inner thigh.

Forgetting her battling conscience for the moment, Ari asked, “How many other women have you written music for?”

“Only you,” Molly said, her index finger trailing down Ari’s abdomen to the edge of her black patch. Ari’s eyes remained glued to Molly’s progress, her breath ragged from excitement. Molly’s finger disappeared and Ari’s mind emptied all its thoughts, lost in the detective’s touch.

“Deeper,” Ari murmured. Molly complied and Ari gasped. A cry forced itself out of her mouth. She had no idea when the moans subsided, only that Molly held her, still gently exploring, touching her with a tenderness she had never experienced.

Chapter Sixteen

Thursday, June 21

6:18 a.m.

The sunlight crept across the room as morning arrived. Molly smiled as her thigh passed over a damp patch of sheet. Ari stirred and pulled her closer, a sound of contentment emitting from her lips. “You didn’t sleep much,” Ari mumbled.

“
We
didn’t sleep much,” Molly corrected, an observation that made Ari chuckle. Molly stared at Ari’s body, remembering every caress.

As incredible as the sex had been, for Molly the best part was wrapping her arms around Ari, their legs entwined, creating a human blanket. They had slept that way all night, Molly dead tired from waking up every hour. She couldn’t fall into a deep sleep, afraid if she did, that Ari would slip from the sheets and out the door. She kept a still watch, her head buried in the soft silk of Ari’s hair, touching her creamy skin, amazed that the beautiful woman was actually in her bed.

“I’ll be right back,” Molly said, staggering toward the bathroom.

Ari’s eyes followed the naked detective’s backside until the bathroom door swung shut. She blinked, waking up in more than one way. Last night was an escape, truly one of the greatest nights in her life, but with the morning came reality, the end of a dream vacation. She had not told Molly about Bob and the hand of deception rested on her shoulder, weighing her down, reminding her of what she had promised, and now, what she had done. She wanted to throw her clothes on and run out, but the door opened and Molly emerged, more beautiful than ever, and Ari suddenly wanted to be held, conscious that she’d been alone in the bed for a few minutes.

Molly dropped in front of Ari and took her hand. “My fragile ego has to know if you enjoyed last night.”

“Enjoyed it?” Ari said with a laugh. “If I’d known how great sex was with a pianist, I would have gone after Kathy McMillan in high school.”

Her tension eased, Molly joined in the laughter. “Who was she?”

“She played the organ for the school choir.”

Molly shook her head and climbed back into bed. “Not as good. Organists don’t have the same spread,” she observed, holding out her right hand.

“God that’s so sexual,” Ari said, her eyes focused on Molly’s long fingers. Molly snuggled against her, kissing her shoulders, whispering in her ear, informing her of several other things she wanted them to try, things she had thought about during her restless night. Ari showed her interest by rolling on top of Molly and letting her tongue roam across most of the detective’s body. Only an hour later, when Molly’s pager went off, did they reluctantly get out of bed. Molly had to get downtown immediately.

*

Sometimes it was just dumb luck that broke a case. A cop would pull a driver over for a broken taillight and find a dead body in a trunk. All the legwork and analysis couldn’t replace a twist of fate. When it happened, Molly always thought of it as early karma for the criminal and a break for her. She didn’t have any pride. If providence could solve a crime, who was she to argue?

She’d actually hoped they’d get lucky with the Michael Thorndike case, but doubted it would happen, simply because it rarely did. So when Andre paged her with a 911 saying there had been an anonymous tip about Bob Watson’s whereabouts, she was skeptical. She felt a little guilty about not telling Ari the truth about where she was going. But the fact was, Ari was a civilian and had no business in the midst of her investigation. At least that’s what she told herself as she raced north on the freeway, her mind sifting through the facts Andre had mentioned on the phone. He’d been so excited, and she laughed when she thought of him spewing information so fast that she couldn’t write it all down. He’d sounded like a kid at Christmas.

He’d headed out early that morning to ask Russ Swanson questions about Speedy Copy’s bank statements and some questionable withdrawals after learning that Bob Watson didn’t handle any aspect of the finances. As he pulled out of a coffee shop, the anonymous call came into the precinct. They patched the caller through, who Andre could not identify as a man or a woman, but who said he or she knew that Bob Watson was staying at an upscale motel on I-17.

Molly inadvertently floored the gas, the needle shooting up to eighty. While she liked Andre, the fact that he got the call, and maybe Watson himself, bothered her. She was only five minutes behind him, cruising in the car pool lane, avoiding the rush hour traffic. Her thoughts bounced between her night with Ari and arresting Bob Watson. She had to laugh at the way her mind worked, one minute remembering the procedural manual and the next envisioning her legs spread open, Ari’s silky tendrils of hair covering her abdomen while the real estate agent pleasured her.

Up ahead, Molly could make out the roadside sign for the motel. She deftly zipped across four lanes of traffic and focused on her driving. It didn’t take much detective work to locate the two patrol cars and Andre’s unmarked Cavalier, all three vehicles huddled in a corner of the property, one of the room doors wide open. She sensed something was wrong immediately. A look inside the comfortable suite confirmed her suspicions and sent her stomach into freefall. Bob Watson was gone, and Captain Ruskin would feast on her for lunch. The patrolmen and Andre avoided her gaze, knowing she would endure the wrath for losing Watson again. They gave Molly a wide berth as she toured Bob Watson’s hiding place for the last four days, opening cabinets and checking drawers, finding any clues to his new location or his possible crime. Molly doubted they would find anything.

Her anger reached an apex as she stared into an empty closet. Andre drew near to her, holding a plastic baggy. “We found this on the counter,” he said. Molly looked at the piece of motel stationary and the simple message written in black ink:
I am innocent.

She glanced back into the closet. “He knew we were coming,” she growled, stalking back into the kitchen. “All that’s left is his worthless trash,” she said motioning through the heap the officers had lain out on the kitchen table.

“Not quite,” one of the officers said, holding up a rectangular piece of paper with some tweezers.

Molly recognized the logo from a distance before she read it, because she had a similar one in her wallet—Ari’s business card, only hers didn’t have the business phone scratched out. The importance of that simple blue line hit Molly in the gut. She stared hard at the card before turning to Andre. “I want you to find Russ Swanson—
now
,” she said, pocketing the business card and heading for the door.