A Grand Plan Read online

  “She must have shared all of this information with you?” Ari guessed. “It sounds like you know a lot about everyone else.”

  “I’m one of the few people who talk to the homeless like they’re still people. Most everyone else dismisses them or shoves them away. My attitude is we need them on our side. I made Ms. Wonders an ally, and she was a crime-fighter who actually helped us catch car thieves and gangsters trying to tag the buildings. Brooke got the okay for her to stay in the Stapley building and I gave her a cell phone. I told her to call me if she saw anything. Of course, sometimes she called just to talk, but she helped catch some bad people…and solve some problems,” he added.

  “Like what?” Ari asked.

  He shrugged. “Just stuff.”

  “Did she call you recently with anything important?”

  He took a breath and said, “There were a couple of weird calls. Last week she called me and said, ‘Tony, I think they’re on to me.’”

  “Did you tell the police?” Molly asked.

  He nodded and Ari saw the tears in his eyes. “I just wish I’d taken her seriously, but I didn’t because when I asked who was on to her she said the VA.” He looked from Molly to Ari. “What was I supposed to think?”

  “What else?” Ari probed.

  He composed himself and said, “Two weeks ago she called me and asked if I could pick her up. She was lost and didn’t know what bus to take. She sounded really disoriented so I jumped in my car and drove to the east side. I don’t know how she got there, but I found her on the corner of Forty-eighth Street and Cactus.”

  “What was she doing out there?”

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  Molly scanned the notes on her pad. “Anything else?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. Ari could tell there was something more he wanted to share.

  She said, “Tony this is just between us.”

  He looked at her, gauging her trust. “Last Tuesday she said something that might’ve been important, but I didn’t mention it to the cops because I didn’t really think there was anything to it. She said something about pie day. I assumed she was talking about Brooke’s Pie of the Day, but maybe it was something else. I didn’t want to get Brooke in trouble unnecessarily. Ms. Wonders said a lot of crazy stuff.”

  Tony looked completely conflicted about the information. Understandable—Brooke was an ally.

  “It’s probably nothing,” Ari reassured him.

  He seemed relieved that someone agreed with him. “I can’t believe this happened. She had such a hard life. She deserved a break. I was going to give her a room at the Bali Hi and just let her help out. I think she was excited about that.”

  “Where were you when she was killed?” Ari asked.

  “I was in my office working on the books for the gallery. I was alone.” He looked up at her and shrugged. “I only wanted to help her.”

  Tears glistened in his eyes and Ari thought he might break down. She went over to the model and studied it. “Tell us about your vision, Tony.”

  He looked up, his face bursting with pride. “Who wants a tour?”

  They readily agreed and he grabbed a set of keys from the top drawer of his desk and a flashlight from a bookcase. “The family asked that I keep an eye on the property so I love a reason to go over there.”

  They followed him down the sidewalk toward the corner. The original office, complete with a drive-up carport, fronted Grand Avenue but the fence’s gate was on the other side, requiring them to walk most of the perimeter. The three two-story structures that comprised the rooms faced the pool, which had clearly been the draw at the height of the motel’s popularity.

  The gate blocked an old driveway and Ari imagined it was the back entrance for guests who’d already checked in. A path snaked between two of the identical buildings that faced each other. She pictured guests standing outside their rooms and chatting across the driveway.

  “Give us the history,” Molly said.

  “It was built in nineteen fifty-five on two and a half acres. There were one hundred and seven rooms, and the coffee shop was known for its breakfasts, drawing locals to the motel every day. The decline started in the seventies with the interstate and the place closed in eighty-one.” He pointed at the third two-story structure and Ari noticed the shredded roof. “Vandals set fire to that building about six months ago, and by the time the fire trucks got here it was a goner. We’ll have to tear that one down but that’s where the amphitheater and display area will go.”

  “Do the police have any leads on the arsonist?” Molly asked.

  “Nope.”

  Molly glanced at Ari, who seemed equally surprised at his dispassionate answer.

  They headed to the pool and peered between the bars of the wrought-iron fence. The uneven pool deck suggested the earth underneath had shifted. Black streaks zig-zagged across the pool walls, indicating skateboarders had trespassed on the grounds frequently.

  She gazed at the fire-eaten structure and the pool, calculating the cost. “Tony, I have to be candid and ask why you’ve set your sights on this place.” She tried to choose her words carefully, but she wanted to know if he understood this was a shaky investment at best.

  He nodded politely and she could tell he’d been asked this question many times before. “I’ve run the numbers and I know that financially it would be more astute to level the place and start over, but let me show you something.”

  They bypassed the original front doors that were now covered in plywood. He unlocked a sturdy metal side door, turned on the flashlight and led them into darkness. In the middle of the room he trailed the light across one of the walls slowly. Rusty sinks and old wooden counters remained.

  “This was the kitchen,” he said. “Get a load of this.” He swung the light to a wooden door with brass fittings and trim that was worth, Ari estimated, thousands of dollars. “The walk-in freezer. They just don’t make anything like this anymore. I know we can modernize it.”

  He led them through a swinging door into the dining area. A traditional counter curved around the kitchen, and the space next to it would easily hold ten to fifteen tables.

  “What I wanted you to see was the architecture and the craftsmanship. The guest room buildings are no big deal. They were standard, but this place…”

  His voice trailed off as he moved the flashlight along the walls and across the ceiling, allowing the old building to tell its story. Between the rows of Superlite block that was the staple of construction in the fifties were wide wooden beams made of dark wood.

  “What is this?” Ari asked. She’d never seen anything like it.

  He flashed the light on the closest beam so she could examine it. The grain was rich and smooth to the touch, reddish in color. She knew it wasn’t native to Arizona.

  “Wanna guess?” he asked playfully.

  “I’d say cherry wood just because of the color.”

  “Nope. Those beams are made from redwoods.”

  She gasped. “Seriously? Isn’t that illegal?”

  “Well, I doubt they went and chopped one down, but the family originally lived in northern California, and when they came to Arizona and decided to build the motel they wanted a bit of their home state with them. At least that’s how the story goes. Couldn’t do that today, of course. Come over here.”

  Past the dining area was the lobby and a counter also made of redwood. He let the flashlight linger on the counter before traveling it upward to a mosaic mural—the phoenix bird rising from the ashes. It was intricate and detailed, a work of art.

  “Wow,” Molly said. “I see why you wouldn’t want to tear this down.”

  They went back outside into the sunlight and headed toward the gate. “So what do you know about your competition?” Molly asked, readjusting her shades.

  “Nothing, really, but it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that someone from RoRo is involved. They don’t want us to be successful.”

  “To
ny, tell Ari your theory. I’ve heard it but I want her to hear it from you.”

  He stopped and gestured toward RoRo. “The art community in Phoenix has always struggled. For decades there wasn’t much art unless your style appealed to the tourists wanting to experience Southwestern flavor. Now we have a thriving community but it’s fragile. There’s not a lot of money here. Only so many people come to First Fridays and there’s talk of eliminating Third Fridays.”

  “Then why invest here in LGA?” Ari pressed. “If the arts can only sustain one community, why try to create two?”

  “Because I believe Phoenix is ready for two communities, if we work together. RoRo and LGA could complement each other’s efforts. If we do it right, people coming to First and Third Fridays would feel as if they were missing out if they didn’t visit both locations.”

  She thought it was a great idea but she knew it was easy to say and much more difficult to enact. “So who’s against the success of LGA?”

  He held up a hand and ticked off a name for each finger. “Sebastian, Crosby, Reverend Glass, some of the merchants on RoRo, and I’m even wondering if Lev is as pro LGA as he claims, despite his relationship with Lorraine.”

  “Why would you say that?” Ari asked. Lorraine had made it sound like Lev was the greatest advocate for the development of LGA.

  He fidgeted and she could tell he was having trouble voicing the concern. “I just think he’s about position and advantage more than ethics and scruples. I could be wrong,” he added quickly, “but I think he’ll take whichever side will make him more money, and he certainly has the power to eliminate anyone who stands in his way.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dr. Yee shared offices with several other medical professionals in a simple white building on Central Avenue, not far from police headquarters. As the contracted psychologist for Phoenix PD, her location ensured those officers referred to her by Internal Affairs could drop by before or after their shift or during their lunch hour. They couldn’t use inconvenience as an excuse. While most initially balked at the visits, several chose to continue therapy after the required sessions were over.

  Molly had made that choice as well. She’d lost her shield but she’d kept Dr. Yee. After being duped by a mole in the police department and engaging in physical violence, conduct unbecoming to a police officer, she’d been forced to resign. As part of her severance package the former chief of police had included two full years of free sessions. After everything that had happened, she thought it was the least he could have done.

  She’d insisted on keeping her usual appointment time as well, Mondays at seven a.m. By choosing early morning she’d be cognizant that any late night Sunday binges would leave her hung over before her shrink visit. She knew Dr. Yee liked her, but she’d made it very clear that the first time Molly walked into her office with a hangover would be her last.

  “I can’t control what you do the rest of the week but I can and will control your behavior in my presence,” she’d said. Molly knew she would be good as her word.

  Yet never once had she sat in Dr. Yee’s waiting room longing for a drink—until this morning.

  Lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the receptionist invite her inside until she called for her a second time. She jumped from the chair and headed into the private office just as Dr. Yee crossed to the couch, her customary spot for their sessions.

  Normally patients sat on the couch that faced the overstuffed chair. However, during her second session with Molly, Dr. Yee abruptly stood and said, “Get up.” Startled, Molly had risen and Dr. Yee pointed at the chair she’d just abandoned. “Sit there and maybe you’ll stop watching the clock.”

  It had worked, although Dr. Yee seemed to disappear on the couch. An Asian woman of indeterminable age, she always wore a conservative tailored pantsuit, but her bright red glasses suggested a wild side that Molly imagined she would never see.

  “You seem distracted today,” Dr. Yee observed after they exchanged the usual pleasantries.

  “I had a fight with Yoli.”

  She appeared only mildly interested but Molly knew she was listening intently. She offered no comments. It was typical.

  “I’ve been hired as a private investigator by the First Friday Council. A homeless woman was murdered on Lower Grand Avenue last weekend and we’re investigating it.”

  “We?”

  She realized her mistake. “Um, well, me, but Ari is helping because she found the body. We were out kinda late last night and it pissed Yoli off.” She stopped, thinking Dr. Yee might comment, but she remained stoic. She didn’t even blink. “I guess I understand why she was upset. When we go out to the Sunday matinees I’m usually home by six, but I didn’t get home until nearly nine. So I understand.”

  “How did you know Yoli was upset?”

  “Well, I asked her.”

  “She didn’t yell or confront you.”

  “No, nothing like that. She gets quiet and ignores me. She either leaves and goes back to her place, or she’ll go to the spare bedroom and sleep on the futon.” She realized her left leg was bobbing and she was chewing on her nails while she talked.

  “Come with me,” Dr. Yee directed.

  She opened a patio door hidden behind the drapes and they went outside. Two Adirondack chairs and a small table took up much of the space. On the table was an ashtray.

  “Thank you,” Molly said gratefully, dropping into a chair and lighting up.

  “How long have you been smoking?”

  “A while.”

  “Does Yoli smoke?”

  “Only after sex.”

  “Are you thinking a scotch would go well with your cigarette?”

  Her face showed no judgment so Molly told the truth. “Yes, for the first time in over two months I’m really craving a drink. If a waiter came by and set down a scotch, or a beer, anything, I’d slam it.”

  “Why?”

  “Stress, I guess. I’ve been hired for my first PI gig. I’m working with my ex and my current girlfriend—”

  “Shows her anger toward you by engaging in passive-aggressive behavior. What did you do to make her angry?”

  She shrugged and shifted in the too-small chair. “We were just out late interviewing people. We stopped at the Bikini Lounge to talk to the manager about the smoke bomb that had gone off. I only had seltzer water,” she quickly added.

  “Why were you so late?”

  “There was a jukebox playing oldies and we just kept listening and talking about the first time we’d heard those songs. It was weird. I learned things about Ari I’ve never known.” She realized she was smiling, and she took a drag on the cigarette to change her expression. “Before I knew it the clock said eight thirty. When I got home I tried to explain but Yoli wouldn’t listen. She walked out as I came in the door.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Back to her place.”

  “So when she’s upset with you she leaves, either your apartment or your bed.”

  Even though Dr. Yee’s summary was correct, Molly was uncomfortable answering. “Well, yeah.”

  “She deprives you of a conversation, sex or both. Of course, I’m making an assumption that the two of you have an active sex life.”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Is it fair to say that if you’d not been fighting with Yoli last night you would have made love?”

  She nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. “I just hate fighting with her.”

  “So how do your fights end?”

  She leaned back and crossed her arms in an effort not to light another cigarette. Smoking in front of Dr. Yee was bad enough. She didn’t need to chain smoke.

  So she was floored when Dr. Yee motioned to the pack of cigarettes and asked, “May I?”

  “Of course,” she stammered. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  A slight grin cracked her neutral expression. “Who do you think the ashtray is for?”

  She took a cigarette and tossed the pack back at
Molly, who quickly lit up again, relieved.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she observed. “How will you and Yoli end your argument?”

  “I’ll probably call her and say I’m sorry. Then she’ll come back tonight.”

  “And will she apologize?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she lied. In truth, Yoli never apologized, mainly because Molly was usually wrong. At least that’s what Yoli always thought. It was just so much easier to keep the peace even if Yoli should be the one apologizing. Molly was older and wiser so she just let things go.

  “So you’ll both apologize and move on. Next time you won’t stay out so late with your ex, is that correct? Will that ensure Yoli doesn’t become angry again?”

  “I don’t know.” She wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. In truth she couldn’t say what would set her off next.

  “What are you thinking about right at this moment?”

  “I’m thinking about something Yoli said. She said that exes couldn’t be friends.”

  “Do you agree?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she repeated, thinking of the moment she and Ari had climaxed together on the phone. “What do you think?”

  Dr. Yee raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t about me.”

  “Still, I’d like to know your opinion.”

  She tapped her cigarette on the ashtray twice and returned to a perfectly poised position as if preparing for a lecture. “Ex-lovers remain in our lives for one of three reasons. Sometimes out of necessity, such as co-parenting. Sometimes the ex fills a void, such as someone to go to the movies with…” Her voice trailed off as she puffed on the cigarette.

  “What about the third reason?”

  “The third reason, whether we acknowledge it or not, is the possibility, slim as it might be, that the romance will rekindle and whatever brought us together in the first place will resurface and smother whatever tore us apart.”

  Molly stared at her cigarette and bit her nail. “I don’t see that happening.”