{"id":1260,"date":"2021-07-15T15:44:11","date_gmt":"2021-07-15T22:44:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/?page_id=1260"},"modified":"2021-07-15T15:44:11","modified_gmt":"2021-07-15T22:44:11","slug":"paid-in-full","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/books-2\/mysteries\/paid-in-full\/","title":{"rendered":"Paid in Full"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"pl-1260\"  class=\"panel-layout\" ><div id=\"pg-1260-0\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1260-0-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1260-0-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"0\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1260-0-0-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t<h2>Paid in Full<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pg-1260-1\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1260-1-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1260-1-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-image panel-first-child\" data-index=\"1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-image so-widget-sow-image-default-13f2a8b12fcc-1260\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"sow-image-container\">\n\t\t<img \n\tsrc=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Paid-in-Full-1-229x300.jpg\" width=\"229\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Paid-in-Full-1-229x300.jpg 229w, https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Paid-in-Full-1.jpg 761w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 229px) 100vw, 229px\" title=\"Paid in Full\" alt=\"\" \t\tclass=\"so-widget-image\"\/>\n\t<\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><div id=\"panel-1260-1-0-1\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-button panel-last-child\" data-index=\"2\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1260-1-0-1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-button so-widget-sow-button-atom-35500a5eb44b-1260\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t><div class=\"ow-button-base ow-button-align-center\"\n>\n\t\t\t<a\n\t\t\t\t\thref=\"https:\/\/www.bellabooks.com\/product\/9781594930591\/\"\n\t\t\t\t\tclass=\"sowb-button ow-icon-placement-left ow-button-hover\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\" \t>\n\t\t<span>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tBUY\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pgc-1260-1-1\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1260-1-1-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"3\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1260-1-1-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<h3 style=\"margin-bottom:20px ;display:block;width:100%;margin-top:10px\">Paid in Full <\/h3>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<style>\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t#tab_container_1178 {\r\n\toverflow:hidden;\r\n\tdisplay:block;\r\n\twidth:100%;\r\n\tborder:0px solid #ddd;\r\n\tmargin-bottom:30px;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .tab-content{\r\n\tpadding:20px;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\tmargin-top: 0px;\r\n\tbackground-color:#ffffff !important;\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tfont-size:18px !important;\r\n\tfont-family: Arial !important;\r\n\t\r\n\t\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\t}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs {\r\n    border-bottom: 0px solid #ddd;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a, #tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:hover, #tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:focus {\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tcursor: default;\r\n\tbackground-color: #ffffff !important;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a {\r\n    margin-right: 0px !important; \r\n    line-height: 1.42857143 !important;\r\n    border: 1px solid #ced6db !important;\r\n    border-radius: 0px 0px 0 0 !important; \r\n\tbackground-color: #e1e9ee !important;\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tpadding: 15px 18px 15px 18px !important;\r\n\ttext-decoration: none !important;\r\n\tfont-size: 15px !important;\r\n\ttext-align:center !important;\r\n\tfont-family: Arial !important;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:focus {\r\noutline: 0px !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:before {\r\n\tdisplay:none !important;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:after {\r\n\tdisplay:none !important ;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li{\r\npadding:0px !important ;\r\nmargin:0px;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:hover , #tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a:focus {\r\n    color: #000000 !important;\r\n    background-color: #e1e9ee !important;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #ced6db !important;\r\n\t\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a .fa{\r\n\r\nmargin-right:5px !important;\r\n\r\nmargin-left:5px !important;\r\n\r\n\r\n}\r\n\r\n\t\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs a{\r\n\t\t\tbackground-image: none;\r\n\t\t\tbackground-position: 0 0;\r\n\t\t\tbackground-repeat: repeat-x;\r\n\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n    float: left;\r\n    margin-bottom: -1px !important;\r\n\tmargin-right:0px !important; \r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1178 .tab-content{\r\noverflow:hidden !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (min-width: 769px) {\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li{\r\n\t\tfloat:left !important ;\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-right:-1px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\tfloat:none !important;\r\n\t\tmargin:0px !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-bottom: 8px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-right:0px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\t.wpsm_nav-tabs li:before{\r\n\t\tdisplay:none !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs  li  a  i{\r\n\t\t\t\tdisplay: none !important;\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t.wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\tmargin-right:0px !important; \r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1178 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t}\t\t\t\t<\/style>\r\n\t\t\t\t<div id=\"tab_container_1178\" >\r\n\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t<ul class=\"wpsm_nav wpsm_nav-tabs\" role=\"tablist\" id=\"myTab_1178\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  class=\"active\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1178_1\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1178_1\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>ABOUT THE BOOK<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1178_2\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1178_2\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>BACKSTORY<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1178_3\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1178_3\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>EXCERPT<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1178_4\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1178_4\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>VIDEO<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/ul>\r\n\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <!-- Tab panes -->\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <div class=\"tab-content\" id=\"tab-content_1178\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane  in active \" id=\"tabs_desc_1178_1\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>A quiet Sunday afternoon takes a deadly turn for real estate agent Ari Adams, who discovers the corpse of a business tycoon in one of her listings. When her best friend, Bob, becomes the prime suspect, Ari\u2019s desire to prove his innocence puts her on a collision course with Detective Molly Nelson, the gorgeous homicide detective facing the enormous pressure of finding the power broker\u2019s killer\u2014fast.<br \/>When Bob disappears, Ari enters a world of betrayal and deception, causing her to question Bob\u2019s innocence. She realizes that she may need to admit that Molly\u2019s hunt for justice will lead to Ari\u2019s greatest secret.<\/p>\r\n<p>As both women hunt for Bob, they are drawn to each other unable to control the desire that surfaces when they are together. While Ari desperately craves Molly\u2019s attention, her devotion to Bob may force her to choose between the debts of the past and the promise of a happy future\u2014if she can stay alive that long.<\/p>\r\n<p>An Ari Adams Mystery Series Book 1.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1178_2\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>The Beginning of a Series: The Creation of Ari Adams, Amateur Sleuth<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re not going to believe the story I heard today.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I looked up, grinning. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>My wife, a newbie real estate agent, had just returned from a staff meeting with her new firm.<br \/>\u201cPeople were skinny dipping in the pool of the vacant house.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I laughed. That wasn\u2019t the most risqu\u00e9 or odd thing she\u2019d heard about from seasoned veterans who really had seen it ALL, but I looked forward to hearing about the brazen activities in which some people would engage when they thought they were alone.<\/p>\r\n<p>At the time, I was looking for an idea that could become the basis of my first mystery, and potentially, a mystery series. I\u2019ve always loved mysteries, a fact I\u2019ve acknowledged many times in the openings of my books. Of course, I especially loved female detectives: Velma from Scooby Doo, Nancy Drew (as depicted by Pamela Sue Martin), and Ms. Marple. And there were the TV detectives\u2014Jessica Fletcher, Ellery Queen, Joe Mannix, and Steve McGarrett.<\/p>\r\n<p>So I wondered, what would be the most jaw-dropping surprise a real estate agent could find in an empty house? Answer: a dead body.<\/p>\r\n<p>I mulled over the idea of a real estate agent as an amateur sleuth\u2014someone who set their own hours, had a lot of flexibility with their day, and could meet oodles of different people from all walks of life.<br \/>Then she needed a name. As a former educator, I\u2019ve met so many people and a significant amount of those people have very interesting names. Some of them I can\u2019t believe\u2014Disney Magic, Exploit, and Secret Box come to mind. One of my favorites is Ari\u2014not \u201cAiry,\u201d but \u201cAre-e.\u201d And since alliterated names (where the same first letter occurs in the first and last name) are easy to remember, I chose Ari Adams.<\/p>\r\n<p>Eight books later I still have stories to tell. Ari\u2019s personal and professional lives have unfolded slowly, and I\u2019m happy to say fans urge me to \u201cwrite faster.\u201d<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1178_3\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p><p style=\"text-align: center;\">Chapter One<\/p><p>Sunday, June 17th<\/p>\r\n<p>When Ari opened the door, the last thing she expected to see was a corpse, but there he was, face down, spread eagle on the floor, sunlight washing over his lifeless body. She reflexively gasped and backed out of the house. A few seconds passed, and when no one jumped out and attacked her, she took a breath and re-entered. Her footfalls echoed against the bare walls, the house vacated months ago by retirees spending their golden years in Florida.<\/p>\r\n<p>She advanced to the body and froze, listening to her heart pounding and the distant hum of lawnmowers.<br \/>Ari studied the victim with emotional detachment, a skill she\u2019d learned at the police academy. Male. Probably mid-40\u2019s, salt and pepper hair, soft hands, the fingertips of the right one drenched in blood. His gold Rolex, expensive Italian loafers and pin-striped suit attested to his wealth. Judging from the condition of the body, Ari doubted he\u2019d been dead for long. A puddle of blood surrounded his middle, suggesting an abdominal wound.<\/p>\r\n<p>She winced at the sight of the floor. Her clients had spent the past two months renovating the house, which included refinishing the original hardwood. She scanned the ancient plaster walls adjusting to their recent coat of paint, and her eyes drifted to the vaulted ceilings and the refurbished crown molding. A historic home, every square foot had been given a total makeover to justify the high asking price for the small amount of space.<\/p>\r\n<p>The only thing out of place was the bar that the owner had insisted on installing in the living room. It ruined the aesthetics in Ari\u2019s opinion, and she avoided looking at its black countertop and chrome fixtures. With ten steps, Ari stood under the archway that led to the tiny galley kitchen. The white cabinets and ceramic tile were almost too bright against the morning sunlight, but nothing was disturbed and there wasn\u2019t a speck of blood anywhere.<\/p>\r\n<p>She shook her head and returned to the living room. It took a lot to surprise her, and she\u2019d seen most everything in twelve years of real estate, but this was a new one. Unable to stand still, but hesitant to leave, she checked her watch. The young couple who were viewing the property wouldn\u2019t arrive for another twenty minutes. Ari knew she should go back outside to her SUV and call the police. She should not snoop, but curiosity won over, and she found herself looking down the short hallway. Although the doors were open, little light emitted from the adjacent rooms, and a tingle crept up Ari\u2019s back.<\/p>\r\n<p>It was definitely spooky. She veered into the only bathroom and stared at the shower door. There were no shadows silhouetted against the antique frosted glass, but she felt her breath catch as she swung the door open, revealing only sparkling blue ceramic tiles. Ari crossed into the small bedroom, where eggshell-white walls and contrasting wallpaper trim greeted her. The closet door stood ajar, just as she had left it after her last showing. She remembered the client had tried to close it out of habit, but Ari had quickly pulled it open again. A closed door was a sign that sellers had something to hide.<\/p>\r\n<p>A chainsaw roared suddenly and Ari jumped. She realized it was too clear and too close.<\/p>\r\n<p>She carefully made her way to the master bedroom, and with each step the chainsaw buzz grew louder. The sliding glass door leading to the backyard stood wide open, the sheer curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. Ari realized the noise was coming from a neighboring yard, and she wasn\u2019t going to be the victim of a crazy maniac wielding a power tool.<\/p>\r\n<p>The air conditioner was losing the battle against the 105 degree heat, and the room was baking. Ari saw that someone had pried the door open with a crowbar, breaking the mechanism in half. She nearly shoved it closed to vent her anger but stopped just as her fingers touched the handle. Damn. Now she had disturbed a crime scene. A wave of guilt swept over her momentarily, but as the real estate agent, she knew her fingerprints would be everywhere so the damage was minimal.<\/p>\r\n<p>This was probably the killer\u2019s entrance. That realization propelled her back down the hall to the living room. Ari glanced at the front door, her escape route if necessary. She vowed to remain for only another minute. Crouching over the man, she repressed the urge to fish his wallet out of his back pocket, but she yearned for further clues to his identity. Her eyes settled on the floor and a few small droplets of blood that trailed behind the bar ten feet away. She swallowed hard and stood up. Walking so as not to disturb any of the blood, Ari peered around the bar.<\/p>\r\n<p>In a split second she realized nothing was wrong and everything was wrong. The shelves were clean and the floor refinishers had actually been able to replace the old wooden planks, worn and water damaged from the liquids that sometimes spilled off the counter. The bar was untouched, but a bloody stain covered the freshly painted wall behind it. Perhaps this is where he died, Ari thought. He was standing behind the bar and he fell back against the wall. She moved closer, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark space behind the bar. At first she thought it was only a blood spatter, the sunlight not illuminating the niche at all. Then she realized it was a word, a name. \u201cRobert\u201d was crudely scrawled right above the baseboard. The color on the wall matched the color on the floor, and her mind flashed to the victim\u2019s red-caked fingertips.<\/p>\r\n<p>A strange sound broke the silence.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari couldn\u2019t tell if it came from inside or outside, but her curiosity instantly vanished. She bolted upright, smashing her head against the shelves that used to hold beer steins from around the world. She swore fiercely as she scurried past the dead man and slammed the front door. Maybe that would scare the intruder away, if someone really was there.<\/p>\r\n<p>She sprinted to the SUV, looking left and right. Only after she\u2019d locked herself inside the truck and pulled her .38 from the glove box did she feel safe. She must have been quite a sight.<\/p>\r\n<p>Cell phone in one hand, gun in the other. She whirled around, checking the back, but no one was there. Now seemed like a good time to call the police. She made the necessary 911 call and then immediately punched in her buyer\u2019s number to cancel the showing. An answering machine picked up, and she knew they were probably on their way.<\/p>\r\n<p>Usually real estate wasn\u2019t this exciting, but there had been a few interesting moments, such as when she had caught a couple having sex in the hot tub of one of her vacant listings. She cracked a smile at the memory of their horrified expressions. What really stood out in her mind was the beautiful woman emerging from the steam, her breasts glistening.<\/p>\r\n<p>She took a deep breath, her heart still galloping and her hands shaking. She returned the gun to the glove compartment, chastising herself for not retrieving it before she searched the house. Her head started to pound and she rubbed her temples. She\u2019d forgotten what it was like to experience an adrenaline rush.<\/p>\r\n<p>The SUV suddenly felt like a sauna. Even dogs weren\u2019t supposed to be kept in enclosed vehicles during the Phoenix summers. Rummaging through the center console, Ari found a clip in the glove compartment and pulled her long, black hair into a makeshift bun, noting one reason why most lesbians have short haircuts. She checked once more through all the windows before she opened the door and slid out, throwing her jacket on the seat as an offering to the June sun. She desperately craved a cold beer and a swimming pool, preferably in the company of a beautiful woman. If she couldn\u2019t have that, she would have gladly settled for a pair of shorts and sandals. Anything to shed the Italian loafers that were pasted to her feet. The worst part of real estate was definitely the \u201cpower dressing\u201d. If she could sell houses from her couch clad in sweats and a T-shirt, she would have been thrilled.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari strolled around the truck, stretching out her long legs and forgetting that she was a target under the sun\u2019s magnifying glass. She surveyed the nearby homes, every yard immaculate and every house possessing curbside appeal. The neighborhood was alive on this Sunday afternoon, complete with chirping birds and pounding hammers that joined the ever present roar of the lawnmowers. Ari began to doubt that the sound she\u2019d heard inside was sinister; more than likely it was a neighbor working in his yard. Until today, she would have believed this area was virtually immune to the high Phoenix crime.<\/p>\r\n<p>Down the road the black and white units approached, three of them. The coroner\u2019s wagon and detectives couldn\u2019t be far behind. Ari smiled when the first officer emerged from his patrol car. Ben Hastings had been a family friend for years. He had watched Ari grow up, and like many of the officers, he still saw her as \u201cBig Jack Adams\u2019 little girl,\u201d and perpetually sixteen years old. He lumbered up the sidewalk, his husky frame testing the seams of his uniform.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAri Adams, what are you doing here?\u201d Ben asked, as he pecked her on the cheek.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI found the victim,\u201d she said.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben noticed the real estate sign in the yard with Ari\u2019s name in big, bold letters and nodded. A sly smile crept over his face. \u201cYou didn\u2019t disturb the crime scene, did you, Ari? You know, poke around or anything?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAs a matter of fact, I heard a noise after I discovered him, so I got out of there fast.\u201d He didn\u2019t notice that she had avoided his question, but his expression sobered at the thought of an intruder.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019ll check it out.\u201d He motioned for the officers, and the group fanned out around the property.<\/p>\r\n<p>The other crime scene vehicles arrived and Ari watched the circus unfold. As a witness, she knew she couldn\u2019t leave. Just as she opened her cell phone to try the buyers again, a white Maxima pulled up to the curb.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cShit,\u201d she mumbled, meandering through the throng of people and vehicles, thinking of what excuse she could give to the bewildered buyers.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cExcuse me,\u201d someone said behind her.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari turned and locked eyes with a woman who matched her 5\u201911\u201d frame, but could have wrestled her to the ground in a second. Most of her bulk was pure muscle, but Ari could see she also carried some extra weight that added to her shapeliness. The woman\u2019s short, blonde hair curled lightly over high cheekbones and a finely chiseled face. Designer shades masked her eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re Ari Adams?\u201d she inquired. \u201cI\u2019m Detective Nelson. I need a statement.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari nodded and held up a finger indicating she only would be a second as she started towards the buyers\u2019 car. Detective Nelson firmly planted a hand on her elbow, stopping her stride. \u201cMs. Adams, where are you going? I need that statement now.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari turned slowly and stared at her reflection through the woman\u2019s sunglasses. The detective\u2019s impatience was evident and deep creases lined her forehead. \u201cI\u2019m not going anywhere, Detective, but I need to let those people know they won\u2019t be viewing this property today.\u201d She motioned to the couple, whom were now chatting with a neighbor and undoubtedly learning all about the commotion. \u201cBesides,\u201d she added, \u201cI\u2019m sure you don\u2019t want extra people traipsing around your crime scene.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Molly Nelson nodded, but she wasn\u2019t paying attention. The sight of this woman had taken her breath away. She\u2019d just fallen on the murder case of the year, but she found herself lost in Ari Adams\u2019s dark green eyes.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cDetective, you need to let me go,\u201d Ari said with a broad grin.<\/p>\r\n<p>Molly glanced down and blushed. Her hand still held Ari\u2019s elbow. She quickly withdrew it and murmured, \u201cSorry,\u201d before walking away.<\/p>\r\n<p>By the time Ari reached the buyers, they were already piling back into the Maxima, sure that the neighborhood was unsafe. She apologized, but as the car sped away, she was certain a commission had too.<\/p>\r\n<p>She needed several aspirin. The yard was flooded with people and equipment, all for the benefit of someone who no longer existed. Cops searched, techs measured, the coroner studied, but nothing could change the outcome. She cocooned herself in the SUV and gulped three aspirin. She watched the blonde detective emerge from the house with the coroner, talking on her cell phone while giving instructions to Ben Hastings. It was clear to Ari that whoever was on the other end of that phone, made the detective nervous. She nodded constantly, shifted her weight from foot to foot and ran her hand through her hair incessantly. The conversation ended abruptly with the detective pulling the phone from her ear and snapping it shut with one hand. She stared at the phone, and Ari watched her heave her shoulders with a huge sigh as she dropped the phone into her pocket. Ari was fascinated. Detective Nelson clearly had full command of the investigation, but there was something tentative about her, something unsure. When the detective looked in Ari\u2019s direction, their eyes locked, and oddly, Ari felt a tingle shoot down her back. Where in the world did that come from?<\/p>\r\n<p>Detective Nelson frowned, obviously not feeling the same surge of electricity, and marched over to the SUV. \u201cIs now a good time?\u201d she snapped.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari\u2019s gaze followed the curves of Detective Nelson\u2019s body. She was in her mid-30\u2019s, very well endowed, and an extra blouse button had come undone, revealing more cleavage than she probably intended. The pale, white ridges rose and fell with her breathing. \u201cYour button,\u201d Ari whispered, with a slight motion.<\/p>\r\n<p>The detective quickly adjusted herself, turning red in the process. \u201cThanks,\u201d she mumbled. She sighed and stuck out her hand in truce. \u201cMaybe we could start over. I\u2019m Detective Molly Nelson.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAri Adams.\u201d The detective had removed her shades revealing crystal blue eyes that would have been beautiful were it not for the deep bags sagging underneath them. \u201cYou look like you could use some of these,\u201d Ari offered, holding up the bottle of aspirin.<\/p>\r\n<p>Molly gratefully swallowed the pills dry. The minute she\u2019d pulled the vic\u2019s wallet from his pocket and read his name, she knew her life had just changed. This case would make or break her career.<\/p>\r\n<p>Molly focused on her notepad as her hormones rapidly trampled over her professionalism. Just touching Ari\u2019s cool hand made Molly hot, and when Ari spoke, her voice had a breathy, seductive quality, whether Ari meant it to or not.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari Adams could have been a model instead of a real estate agent. She oozed grace, even in the way she sat in the leather seat, her long legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. She formed her smile with perfect lips \u2013 legs and lips, the two features Molly always seemed to notice when she looked at a woman. She cleared her throat. \u201cMiss Adams, could you tell me how you found the body?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari re-told the story, eliminating her momentary snooping. Molly scribbled, continually nodding throughout the account but watching Ari carefully. Every move Ari made was deliberate. When a strand of her jet black hair fell from the make shift bun, Ari slowly tucked it back behind her ear with her index finger, a gesture Molly found hypnotic. She tried to focus on Ari\u2019s statement, but she couldn\u2019t stop staring at the real estate agent. She already knew who Ari was: the daughter of a cop legend. It was hard to believe that the beauty in front of her was related to the bear of a man everyone knew as \u201cBig Jack\u201d.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWho else has access to the house?\u201d Molly asked automatically, hoping that she hadn\u2019t already asked the question.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWell, I have a key, there\u2019s a key in the lockbox for other agents and service people, and I really couldn\u2019t tell you how many other keys my clients have.\u201d Molly underlined something in her notebook several times.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cSo, tell me about the owners,\u201d she said, flipping back a few pages in her notes. \u201cA Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Watson?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWell, they\u2019re very nice. The Watsons are an elderly couple who have already moved to Florida to retire. I\u2019m really working for their son who has been given legal power of attorney.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cThe son,\u201d Molly murmured. What\u2019s his name?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>It was like lightning striking Ari\u2019s brain. Molly peered over her notes, conscious of Ari\u2019s<br \/>hesitation. \u201cHis name\u2019s Bob. Bob Watson.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Molly\u2019s head jerked up. \u201cRobert.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari tried to hide the emotional torment that was welling inside. The idea of Bob Watson being implicated in a murder was absurd. He was an established member of the community, a business entrepreneur, and one of her dearest friends from high school. They had briefly dated before she acknowledged the truth about herself. More importantly, Bob stood by her five years later after she\u2019d been disowned by her parents for choosing an \u201cunnatural lifestyle.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cMs. Adams, is something wrong?\u201d The detective\u2019s voice drew Ari away from the unpleasant memories.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said. The pounding in her head was getting worse. \u201cIt\u2019s just I know Bob Watson, and there\u2019s no way he could be involved in something like this.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>The detective flashed a sad smile. She heard this line all the time.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cLook,\u201d Ari continued emphatically, \u201cI\u2019m telling you that the message behind the bar is deceptive. It\u2019s not...\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Her words trailed off as Detective Nelson\u2019s expression darkened. \u201cAnd how would you know about that?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari blushed. \u201cOK, you caught me. I followed the blood and saw the name on the wall.\u201d Molly waited, knowing there was more. Ari wanted to lie, but for some reason, she found she couldn\u2019t. \u201cI did look through the other rooms, just to see how much damage there was.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAnd?\u201d Molly prompted.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari shifted uncomfortably. \u201cI accidentally touched the handle on the patio door.\u201d Molly cursed under her breath, sending Ari into a shotgun explanation. \u201cIt was dumb, I know better than that, but I can guarantee you my fingerprints will be all over that house anyway.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAnd possibly over the fingerprints of the killer,\u201d Molly interjected. Ari slumped in the seat, her poise abandoned for the moment. Molly watched Ari massage her temples, her cheeks crimson from embarrassment. An apology tried to work its way from Molly\u2019s lips but she swallowed it down. She didn\u2019t have anything to be sorry for. Ari deserved to be chewed out, and if it hurt her beautiful feelings, then so be it. Still, Molly found herself planted to the ground, unable to storm away as she was accustomed. She reached over and touched her arm. \u201cYou know, Ms. Adams, for a cop\u2019s daughter, you did something pretty foolish,\u201d she observed in a kind voice.<\/p>\r\n<p>The change in demeanor drew Ari\u2019s gaze back to Molly\u2019s. Ari studied the piercing blue eyes, stern but caring. She stared at Molly a little longer than was polite before smiling. \u201cI don\u2019t know what came over me,\u201d she said. \u201cNatural curiosity.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cCuriosity killed the cat,\u201d Molly countered, as she involuntarily smiled back at Ari. Someone called her name and the smile faded. She nodded to Ari and turned away, mortified by her own behavior. What was she doing, flirting with a civilian at a crime scene? Where was her professionalism? \u201cFocus now, Nelson,\u201d she whispered to herself.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari watched Molly stride away, the smell of musk still lingering in the truck. To clear her head, Ari hopped out and ventured a few feet onto the grass.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben Hastings rounded the corner and called, \u201cYou still here?\u201d Ari grinned conspiratorially. She loved joking with Ben. He was a second father to her, and the only person who understood why she had left the Tucson Police Department after one short year.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben fished a handkerchief from his pants\u2019 pocket and wiped the sweat from his leathery face. \u201cSo did you talk to Nelson?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cUh huh. She took my statement and scolded me for snooping.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben wagged a knowing finger and shook his head. He knew Ari would never change. He also noticed her blush when he mentioned Molly Nelson. She was staring at the grass, using the toe of an expensive loafer to pock the ground and avoid his eyes. Ben watched her struggle with her feelings. He loved Ari dearly. She had endured more in her thirty-two years than most people did in an entire lifetime. Everyone had abandoned her in one way or another, but he would always be there. And if anyone deserved an opportunity to find happiness, it was Ari. \u201cYes,\u201d he said plainly.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d Ari asked, only slightly puzzled.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYes, she\u2019s your type. She\u2019s thirty-five, born and raised here, moved away for a while, really good at her job. That\u2019s about all I know.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari\u2019s cheeks flushed. Why did she care? She was in absolutely no position to want any woman. Her career was her life, at least that\u2019s what her last lover had believed. She stared down at the large divot and pushed dirt back in the hole. \u201cSo who was the guy inside?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben sighed. You\u2019re gonna get me into a lot of trouble, Ari.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cC\u2019mon, Ben,\u201d she said, using her voice from childhood, the voice that had always won Ben over, whether it was for another game of checkers or another push on the swing.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben scowled and looked around. \u201cMichael Thorndike.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>It took only a second for the name to register. \u201cThe guy who renovated most of the downtown area? The leader of the Phoenix Alliance?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cShh...\u201d Ben cautioned. \u201cYes, that Michael Thorndike.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cSo how did he die?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cTwo shots from a .38 caliber. One to the chest and one to the gut.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cAny theories as to how it happened?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cEstimated time of death is somewhere between eight and ten last night. He probably got shot while he was standing behind the bar, wrote his killer\u2019s name on the wall and tried to drag himself out toward the door. Got as far as the living room.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s an awful lot for a dying man to do,\u201d Ari muttered. \u201cAre they sure he wrote it?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben nodded. \u201cAccording to the coroner, that name was written by Michael Thorndike himself. They got a nice clear fingerprint at the top of the \u2018b.\u2019 Matched his bloody right hand.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari exhaled. If that were true, then it meant Michael Thorndike had used the last of his strength to identify his killer. Bob would be questioned and probably arrested before nightfall.<\/p>\r\n<p>A young cop approached and spoke with Ben, all the while his eyes shifting from Ben to Ari, who pretended not to notice. She turned away, just as she had done throughout most of her life, every time a guy had come on to her. Except for Bob. Bob had been different.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ben nodded to Ari and wandered back to the front door with the young cop, while Ari took a few steps away and surveyed the crime scene. Things were starting to wind down. The body was being removed and some of the techs were packing up. Ari spotted Molly across the lawn talking to a young black detective. There was no question about who was in charge, as Molly pointed at the ground and barked an order. Ari guessed this was Molly\u2019s partner and clearly he hadn\u2019t done his job correctly. She held up fingers, ticking off a list of things while the man wrote furiously in his notebook. She yelled, \u201cGet it done!\u201d before stomping toward Ari.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re free to go, Miss Adams,\u201d Molly said curtly, as she walked past Ari. The shades and the attitude were back, and Ari noticed Molly didn\u2019t look at her.<\/p>\r\n<p>Something gnawed at Ari. Once a cop... \u201cDetective,\u201d Ari called. Molly stopped and turned abruptly, impatience written into her expression. \u201cWhy would Michael Thorndike bother to drag himself out from behind the bar after he wrote Bob\u2019s name? It\u2019s not like there was a phone out there. And why would he write \u2018Robert\u2019? Most everyone calls Bob Watson, just that, Bob.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWe don\u2019t know the answer to those questions, Ms. Adams, but I\u2019m sure we\u2019ll figure it out. Now, I am going to ask you to leave the crime scene. I know your father is a friend of just about everyone here, but that doesn\u2019t give you the right to stick your nose in my investigation,\u201d Molly said.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari\u2019s defenses rose at the mention of Jack Adams. \u201cI think you\u2019re forgetting something, Detective. I\u2019m the agent on this house, and I\u2019m legally responsible for this property. My clients are going to want an explanation as to what happened and why part of their five thousand dollar floor must be replaced again.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWell, all I know is that your friend Mr. Watson better have a good alibi,\u201d Molly retorted, her cell phone ringing in her pocket. She scowled as she retrieved it. Beautiful or not, Molly hated amateurs. \u201cIf we need anything else we\u2019ll be in touch, Ms. Adams,\u201d she said before she flipped open the receiver and walked away.<\/p>\r\n<p>Ari headed to the SUV, Molly\u2019s words ringing in her ears. She had no idea how Bob could be implicated in the murder of a Phoenix power magnate, since it was absolutely unbelievable. Yet, it was also too coincidental. Somehow Bob was involved.<\/p>\r\n<p>She pulled away from the house, a house she had visited hundreds of times during her teenage years. Images of Michael Thorndike\u2019s body and the bloody message clouded her mind. She pushed them away, unwilling to contaminate the memories of her youth.<\/p>\r\n<p>Bob had been the most important person in her life for a long time. They met when he was a high school junior and she a sophomore. They were both on the track team, only mildly aware of the other\u2019s existence, until the day they shared a seat on the team bus and became fast friends. Bob wanted more, but Ari brushed him off, like every other guy. He persisted, and Ari finally went out with him a few times and even agreed to go steady. Kissing him had been a chore, but at least with a boyfriend, it was as if a \u201cNo Trespassing\u201d sign had been posted on her body, and the boys left her alone. No surprise, really. Bob was the state\u2019s number one shot putter - no one would dare mess with his girl. Still, it wasn\u2019t right; Ari knew he deserved better.<\/p>\r\n<p>It amazed her that Bob\u2019s manhood remained intact when three months into the relationship, she confessed her suspicions about her sexuality. Most guys would have thrown a fit, blamed her, or played it cool. Instead of destroying their bond, Ari\u2019s announcement actually brought them closer, as Bob shifted from boyfriend to counselor. They stayed in touch during college, even though they went to different schools, and Bob married Lily during his senior year. The true proof of friendship, though, came two years later. It was Bob who offered Ari his guest room the night her father disowned her, and it was Bob who had saved her from the biggest mistake of her life.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1178_4\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/gD317CadkZM\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n <script>\r\n\t\tjQuery(function () {\r\n\t\t\tjQuery('#myTab_1178 a:first').tab('show')\r\n\t\t});\r\n\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\tjQuery(function(){\r\n\t\t\tvar b=\"fadeIn\";\r\n\t\t\tvar c;\r\n\t\t\tvar a;\r\n\t\t\td(jQuery(\"#myTab_1178 a\"),jQuery(\"#tab-content_1178\"));function d(e,f,g){\r\n\t\t\t\te.click(function(i){\r\n\t\t\t\t\ti.preventDefault();\r\n\t\t\t\t\tjQuery(this).tab(\"show\");\r\n\t\t\t\t\tvar h=jQuery(this).data(\"easein\");\r\n\t\t\t\t\tif(c){c.removeClass(a);}\r\n\t\t\t\t\tif(h){f.find(\"div.active\").addClass(\"animated \"+h);a=h;}\r\n\t\t\t\t\telse{if(g){f.find(\"div.active\").addClass(\"animated \"+g);a=g;}else{f.find(\"div.active\").addClass(\"animated \"+b);a=b;}}c=f.find(\"div.active\");\r\n\t\t\t\t});\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t});\r\n\t\t\r\n\r\n\t\tfunction do_resize(){\r\n\r\n\t\t\tvar width=jQuery( '.tab-content .tab-pane iframe' ).width();\r\n\t\t\tvar height=jQuery( '.tab-content .tab-pane iframe' ).height();\r\n\r\n\t\t\tvar toggleSize = true;\r\n\t\t\tjQuery('iframe').animate({\r\n\t\t\t    width: toggleSize ? width : 640,\r\n\t\t\t    height: toggleSize ? height : 360\r\n\t\t\t  }, 250);\r\n\r\n\t\t\t  toggleSize = !toggleSize;\r\n\t\t}\r\n\r\n\r\n\t<\/script>\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Paid in Full<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":194,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1260","page","type-page","status-publish","entry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1260","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1260"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1260\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1365,"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1260\/revisions\/1365"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/194"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1260"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}