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Did that get your attention?

By the time I began writing Deadly Intersections, I realized I needed to have a system that would keep track of names, character attributes, character personality traits, character endearments, backstory, etc. As I started to write this book, I decided to read the other two previous books in the series, Paid in Full and White Offerings before I got too far along, to make sure that there was consistency and continuity. I also found an error or two between the first two books, which helped shaped my thinking about my consistency processes.

It’s very difficult to keep track of everything, and I’ll admit that once in a while I might “fudge” a previously introduced plot point to make the current mystery work. Also, keeping tabs on approximately a dozen main, minor, and tertiary characters is complicated work, especially when a character previously introduced as a minor character joins the ranks of a main character in a later story. Building on her/his/their character takes much planning.

I’d be lying if I said I’ve got this all down, even now after eight books. I still make mistakes, but I’d like to think they are far fewer, despite the fact that Ari Adams has met dozens of suspects, worked with many supporting characters, and survived her relationship with Molly Nelson after many twists and turns.

Still I remain vigilant, and I’m humble enough to say that I (or my editor and my proofer) may not have caught a few of my own errors. If you find a continuity error between two of the mysteries, send me a note via the Contact Page, and I will reward you with an autographed book. To be clear, continuity errors are different from frustrating typos no one caught or the failure to end dialogue with a quotation mark. I hope those are few and far between, but they happen. A continuity error, though, might be that someone’s name is spelled one way in one novel and a different way in a subsequent novel. (How’s that for a hint?)

Chapter One

Usually people she’d just met didn’t die two hours later but trouble followed Ari Adams.

The victim had seemed much taller than he did now, crumpled over the steering wheel, the horn blaring inside the parking garage.

No one had given a thought when it first sounded since it was so common to hear auto alarms randomly trigger in downtown Phoenix. The guests at the annual Phoenix Chamber of Commerce business luncheon continued to enjoy the beautiful February weather on the lawn of Heritage Square, a Phoenix landmark that brought together several old houses onto one property.

Everyone worked the crowd, including Ari and her boss Lorraine Gonzalez. And Ari had learned that commercial real estate was far more lucrative than the residential home market she’d exclusively handled during her twelve-year career as an agent. If they could find one client they’d be set for a few months.

The screeching horn forced people to lean closer to be heard but nothing else. Heads finally turned when a woman ran screaming from the garage, her purse swinging from her arm. “Help me! He’s dead!”

An older gentleman caught her and held her still while she continued to babble. Ari, a former cop trained to run toward danger and not from it, instantly headed into the garage joined by a few curious businessmen and a security officer who definitely looked as scared as the hysterical woman.

They followed her as she wound her way around the aisles of the garage trying to locate the wailing horn. The ground rumbled as three school buses snaked through the tiny rows toward the exit, their huge engines momentarily interrupting their search. Probably visiting the Science

Center. Heritage Square bordered the Arizona Science Center, the past and present colliding in the same city block.

She found the car—a Lexus—in the last row, two stalls down from a Mercedes she imagined belonged to the screaming woman who’d left her door wide open. Ari immediately recognized Warren Edgington, an investor and the keynote speaker at the luncheon. She and Lorraine had chatted with him during the meet and greet portion. They’d made a connection and he’d taken their cards, mentioning a potential deal they could work together.

“Do any of you guys have a handkerchief?” Ari asked loudly, turning to the three young men who’d followed her.

“Of course,” an Adonis-like beefcake said, smiling and offering the white linen square from his breast pocket while the other two stepped away defeated.

She nodded, not returning the smile.

Wrapping her hand around the handkerchief, she pulled at the door handle but it wouldn’t open.

“Locked?” Adonis asked.

She nodded and circled the car. She peered inside the passenger’s window and noticed an open briefcase with a silver flask lying inside. A piece of paper rested underneath the flask—a note.

“This looks like a suicide,” Adonis said. He’d moved next to her, so close she could smell his Altoid.

“Maybe,” she said as the black and whites pulled up behind the Lexus.

“Now that the cavalry’s arrived can I walk you back?” Adonis asked, clearly hopeful.

She offered a little smile, cobbling together a gentle letdown in her mind. She was saved when Colin McDermott, one of her dad’s old cronies, stepped from the first car.

“Ari Adams, what in the blazes are you doin’ here?”

She met his hug as an answer and noticed Adonis slunk over to a concrete wall.

“I hear your dad’s coming to town soon. I can’t wait to see him. It’s been ages.”

She forced a smile. Everyone loved Captain Big Jack Adams, a retired member of the

Phoenix Police Department and they anticipated his arrival—everyone but her. Thinking about his visit the next week gave her heartburn and sent her into a foul mood. She couldn’t understand why she’d ever agreed to a reunion. It was too soon and she wasn’t ready.

More police officers assembled and a tall blonde emerged from an unmarked Caprice. Ari glanced at Adonis, still leaning against the wall. Like her, he was captivated by the statuesque woman with short curly hair who instantly took charge. Ari watched in admiration as she listened to McDermott give her the details. She nodded and scanned the crime scene, her eyes finding Ari. She frowned and came over immediately.

“What are you doing here?”

“Honey, I told you I had a luncheon today, remember?”

Detective Molly Nelson rolled her eyes. “How is it that you’re always in the middle of

my crime scenes?”

Ari raised a finger to correct her. “That’s only happened one other time and look what we

got out of it.” She offered a slow smile and batted her eyelashes. “Besides I thought you liked it when I surprised you during the workday.”

Molly sighed. “I like it most of the time. What happened?”

Ari recounted the last ten minutes, assuring Molly she hadn’t disturbed the crime scene. “I’d had a very nice chat with him earlier. We kept running into each other, too,” she realized.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he was right behind me in the buffet line and then I saw him again when I went to the ladies’ room.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t try to follow you in there, did he?”

“No, it wasn’t anything like that. I saw him before I went inside and when I came out he was arguing with this other guy who’d tried to pick me up earlier after he introduced himself to Lorraine and me.”

Molly flipped the page on her notebook. Ari could tell she was in full cop mode because her usual jealous streak didn’t surface. “What’s his name?”

“The Hometown Grocery Guy, Stan Wertz? We’ve seen his commercials.”

She grimaced. “He hit on you? His ads are the worst. So what were they arguing about?” Ari tried to remember but she’d been distracted by some drunk women coming out of the

powder room. Edgington was standing on the heels of his shoes, shaking his head and his arms were crossed. Wertz was clearly in his personal space, gesturing with one hand and squeezing Edgington’s shoulder with the other. The pose suggested friendly coercion but Edgington seemed to want no part of it. They were working hard to keep their voices quiet and only the end of sentences grew louder. And she really hadn’t been paying close attention.

“I’m not sure. It was definitely about business. Wertz was trying to convince him of something, telling him that it would work and Edgington kept saying no.”

“Did they see you?”

“No, they were really into it when I passed by.”

Molly tapped her notebook and gazed at her partner, Andre Watson, as he watched a lab tech work on Edgington’s car. When the door finally opened, the alarm sounded, joining the blaring car horn in a deafening screech until the medical examiner allowed the repositioning of Edgington’s body off the steering wheel. When it was finally quiet again, Molly and Ari joined Andre.

“Hey, Ari,” Andre said with a smile.

A different tech motioned for Molly and Ari saw they’d retrieved the flask and the briefcase from the passenger’s side. The tech held out the note. I’m finished. There’s no other way, was written haphazardly with a black ink pen on a sheet of Edgington’s personal stationery. Ari noticed a black ink pen rested in the bottom corner of the briefcase.

“Looks like he scribbled this pretty fast,” Andre observed.

“We’ll have to see if we can have it analyzed,” Molly added, “but I’m not too hopeful. If he’d been drinking heavily his penmanship would’ve been greatly impaired. It’ll be difficult to get a match.”

“Do you see any more pieces of blank stationery in the briefcase?” Ari asked. “A lot of people don’t carry their personal stuff during a workday unless it has a purpose.”

Andre checked and found three more sheets, killing Ari’s theory that Edgington had definitely planned to kill himself.

Molly stared at Ari. “You were one of the last people to see him alive. Did he seem suicidal to you?”

Ari shrugged. She’d been close to suicide herself but had fooled everyone and nearly died.

Molly’s face turned red when she realized what she was asking. “Stupid question. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. And no, I don’t think he was suicidal. He hit on me and wanted a date. That’s not something you usually do before you commit suicide.”

“True,” Molly conceded.

She glanced inside. The medical examiner had removed the body and she carefully checked the upholstery with her flashlight. “I don’t see any blood and there’s no sign of a struggle.”

“I’ll run his cell phone records,” Andre said. “Maybe he made a call before he offed himself.”

“If he did it himself,” Molly corrected.

“Do you need me for anything else?” Ari asked, looking at her watch.

Molly shook her head. “Not right now.”

Ari glanced at Adonis, who was watching them intently. “Honey, I know you’re busy but

I need a favor.”

“What?” Molly asked, exasperated.

“That guy standing over there is either going to follow me out of this garage and hit on

me or he’s going to stay and hit on you.”

Molly frowned and her eyes found Adonis. Ari knew she hated it when men came on to

her. She thought everyone recognized she was a dyke the minute they met her. She didn’t understand how beautiful she was to men and women.

“I don’t have time for any bullshit today,” she murmured, pulling Ari against her for a soft kiss. “Clear enough?” she asked, her voice a ragged whisper.

Ari’s throat went dry. Molly had that effect on her. “Quite.”

They looked toward Adonis who supported himself against the wall, his jaw dropped.

Two hours later they’d cleared the crime scene. Molly turned toward the skyscraper next to the garage and pointed. “Let’s go have a chat with Mr. Wertz and see if he has an alibi for this afternoon.”

They found his office high in the sky and she was automatically suspicious. She had a dislike for the rich and powerful that stemmed from her days on the Spokane police force. A rich white boy had been the cause of her former partner’s death, at least that’s how she’d decided to remember it. It’s the sense of entitlement and the general attitude that they’re better than the rest of us. That’s what bothers me.

A receptionist directed them to an inner lobby and Mr. Wertz’s personal assistant, Candy. Molly’s gaydar instantly activated when Candy’s eyes probed her body and she ignored Andre, a man who’d been compared to Denzel Washington. Molly doubted he noticed since his gaze never left her voluptuous bosom that was trapped in a too-small silk blouse.

“May I help you?”

She flashed her badge and said, “We need a few minutes with Mr. Wertz about an incident that happened today at Heritage Square.”

“Oh? And if I may ask, how does this involve him?”

She’s good, not a pushover. Her job was to keep people out of his office and she scrutinized every request.

“He was there,” Andre said curtly. “At the luncheon.”

Candy’s gaze flicked between them and Molly noticed the slightest shift in her stony expression. “So you’re here about Warren,” she stated. She nodded and pressed a series of buttons on the massive communication system in front of her.

“Mr. Wertz? Some detectives need to speak with you about Mr. Edgington.”

Interesting. He’s Warren to her and Mr. Edgington to Wertz.

She listened to his reply and said, “I’ll send them right in.”

She escorted them into an immense office and he offered a perfect smile, his glistening teeth almost blinding. When he extended his hand, she noticed the gold and diamond cufflinks at his wrists that matched the band of his Rolex watch.

“Detectives, how can I help you?”

He motioned for them to sit and returned to the imposing chair behind his massive desk. When he leaned back and crossed his legs, Molly realized he wasn’t unusually nervous. He has nothing to hide or he’s a great actor.

“Mr. Wertz, we’re not sure if you’ve heard but Warren Edgington is dead. He died immediately following the luncheon at Heritage Square.”

He nodded. Obviously the news had climbed the twenty-four floors to his office or he had first-hand knowledge, which was why Molly withheld several pieces of key information.

“It’s terrible,” he said. “Warren and I were business acquaintances. We hadn’t worked together, at least not yet. We were pondering a venture but we hadn’t made any definite plans.”

“What kind of venture?” Andre asked.

“A land purchase. Warren had a few parcels that I thought might be appropriate for a future Hometown Grocery.”

She waited for the usual grief comments that were typical of these interviews but he offered nothing except facts.

“We understand you were one of the last people to see him alive at the luncheon.”

He shifted in his seat. “Yes, we spoke. As a matter of fact we had a few harsh words as well about the land deal. By the end of the conversation I wasn’t sure if we could collaborate.”

“How did you end the conversation?” Andre asked.

“We didn’t, really. It got heated so I walked away, intending to call him later.” He chuckled slightly. “I didn’t think it was appropriate to argue outside the restrooms.”

When Molly looked up from her notes, he was waiting for the next question, his gaze moving between her and Andre.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, trying hard to disguise the impatience in his voice. “When did you leave the luncheon?” she asked.

“Right after that exchange. The luncheon was over and people were networking, typical

of these events,” he said with a wave. “I was frustrated and returned to my office. I believe it was about one o’clock.”

“Is there anyone who can verify your return?”

He didn’t answer right away and Molly met his stare. He cleared his throat and said, “Fortunately Candy was here so she can vouch for my whereabouts but most everyone else on this floor takes lunch from twelve-thirty to one-thirty. Any other questions?” he asked emphatically.

“No,” she said, rising from the chair.

He escorted them out with a nod of his head and they set their sights on Candy whose fingers flew across her keyboard. When they stopped in front of her desk, she quickly swiveled in her chair to address them. Time is really money around here.

“Um, Ms....” Andre started, realizing he didn’t know her last name.

“The name is Candace Narvold but everyone just calls me Candy,” she said pleasantly. “Thanks,” he continued. “Were you here today at one o’clock?”

She nodded. “I was. He was at the luncheon so I delayed my lunch hour until he

returned.”

“So you saw him return from the luncheon?” Molly asked.

A sly smile crossed her lips. “Yes, I saw him after he arrived back from the luncheon.” “And you’re sure of the time?” Andre pressed. “You’re certain he was back by one?” She leaned over the desk and folded her hands. “Detective, I’m quite sure of the time. I

was in his office when his cell phone alarm went off. It sounds everyday at one to remind him to take his medication.”

“What medication is that?”

She eyed them shrewdly. “I don’t think that’s police business. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

They both shook their heads and headed back down the hallway. Molly glanced at the framed photos that lined the wall, each one depicting the same image—Stan Wertz at the opening of a Hometown Grocery store, preparing to cut a yellow ribbon with an enormous pair of scissors. By the time they reached the elevator she’d lost count at fifteen pictures.

“That’s a lot of stores,” Andre said. “What do you make of him?”

“He’s a cool customer,” she said, punching the button. “He showed no emotion and offered no help. Very hard to read.”

“Do you think Candy’s telling the truth?”

“Do you?”

He glanced back down the hallway at Candy. “I don’t know. If she likes her job then I’ll

bet she’d cover for him but I think she’s telling the truth. Judging from that smile on her face when we asked her where she was at one o’clock, I’d say she was with him in his office and she wasn’t taking dictation.”

Chapter Two

Maria pushed the swing higher until her feet rose above her head and her toes seemed to

touch the puffy clouds. Back and forth she soared like the pendulum Mrs. Stimson had shown the class. She glanced at the empty swing next to her. Where was Selena? Maria frowned. Maybe her mama wouldn’t let her out to play. It was Sunday after all, the Lord’s Day. Fortunately Mama believed the Lord got his share in the morning and if she was expected to do chores, then it was okay to play later. She liked Mama’s logic.

In the distance a man wriggled through a hole in the playground fence. He was still far away and she was certain he’d cut to the right toward the abandoned school that towered before her. Her brother Franco told her it was called the drugstore and junkies went there all the time. She and her friends could play on the swings and monkey bars and no one would bother them, but he said never ever go inside. She’d kept her promise to him. The old place gave her the creeps.

She missed Franco. He didn’t live at home anymore and Mama said he was muerto because he ran a gang. But he still saw Maria after school sometimes. He told her she was separate from business and it wasn’t her problem. He loved her no matter what. She still felt bad that Mama didn’t get along with him and Mama would be mad if she knew that he visited her.

The man was close enough now that she could see he wore a hat, sweatshirt and jeans. He didn’t walk like a junkie and he was headed toward her. He stared at his feet as if he didn’t notice she was there.

“Time to go,” she whispered.

The first rule was always to run when a stranger approached. She slowed the swing and prepared to jump as soon as her feet scraped the ground.

“Hey, little girl, can you help me?” the man called. He was hurrying toward her, waving cash, a smile on his face. “I’ll pay you.”

She didn’t buy it. Franco had warned her about strangers. None of them are good, hija.

She jumped and landed in the dirt. When she stood he was standing before her. There was no point in running now since he could easily catch her. Her gaze went to the twenty dollars in his hand. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe Franco was wrong about some strangers.

“What do you need, mister?”

He frowned. “I’m very sorry.”

Her eyes had been focused on the twenty dollar bill and she didn’t notice the barrel of the

gun until it was pointed at her.