her kids.”
“Then maybe the key unlocks the place where the other journals are hidden.”
“Maybe,” Ari said, holding it up, “but we need to go get ready for our dinner plans.” She shut the desk drawer and said to Rory, “Thanks so much for your help.”
“Sure.”
“What kind of name is
Rory
?” Jane asked.
“It’s short for Aurora, you know, the princess in
Sleeping Beauty?
When I was born my mama thought I was a little princess.” Jane snorted, and she grinned broadly. “You think that’s funny, do you? I don’t strike you as the princess type?”
“Not really,” Jane said. “I think that title suits me better.”
“Jane, we need to go,” Ari said impatiently.
Rory’s gaze traveled the length of Jane’s body. “I can think of several titles for you, sweetie, but princess isn’t one of them. I’d say you’re a termagant, a harridan, or a virago.”
She frowned. She was quite competitive about vocabulary and was nearly unbeatable at Words with Friends.
Rory chuckled. “Look them up, sweetie.”
They got into the car, and Jane quickly tapped on her iPhone. “I can’t believe her!”
“Forget that for a second, Jane. You need to listen to this entry Nina made four days before she was killed.”
“Is that why you wanted out of there so fast?”
She nodded and read from the page. “‘The secret will be revealed—DANGER. Poor Benedick! Poor Horatio! And poor Orlando—a pawn?’”
“What the hell? Who are these people? Is she talking about Orlando Bloom?”
“I don’t think so. Orlando, Benedick and Horatio were Shakespearean characters, but I think they were from different plays. I’m guessing Nina is using fictitious names to ensure confidentiality.”
“It would make sense since she got burned in the past. Anyone finding a journal entry like that wouldn’t have any idea what she’s talking about.
I
don’t have any idea what she’s talking about.” She tapped on her phone and gasped. “Well, she’s a termagant, too!” When Ari looked at her quizzically, she added, “That bitch called me a bitch—using
better
vocabulary!”
Chapter Six
The last hundred yards was the toughest. Brian made it look easy, adeptly positioning his feet on each of the sandstones, the well-developed muscles in his calves bulging. Molly stayed close behind, determined to make it to the top of Summit Trail, the most strenuous hike Camelback Mountain had to offer. He’d started her on the simple climb to Bobby’s Rock, but she had challenged his choice, asserting she was in great shape. He laughed and then proved her wrong.
The next hike had been up Cholla Trail. It humbled her too, and she immediately realized she was an overweight, out-of-shape alcoholic. Every once in a while she also felt a twinge of pain in her left thigh, the place where she’d been shot nine months before. Yet, she’d complied with his personal training regimen, and in only six weeks she’d exchanged twenty pounds of gut flab for five pounds of toned muscles. She’d never felt better, thanks to his willingness to serve as her personal trainer.
She took a deep breath and pressed forward until they hit the summit and gazed at the valley below. She chugged from her water bottle and ignored her screaming legs.
“Not bad,” Brian said, checking his watch. “Fifty minutes. You’re getting better.”
“How long should it take?”
“Our goal is thirty,” he said with a grin.
“Slave driver.”
Two women passed by and stared. They were serious hikers in boots, waterproof shorts and polyester shirts that offered sun protection. When Molly and Brian met their gaze, they smiled.
“They’re flirting with you,” he said.
She laughed and watched their backsides. “No, I’m certain they were checking out my brother’s astounding physique.”
“How do you know they weren’t your type? I’ve seen the way women look at you lately.”
She soaked up the compliment and felt her cheeks turn red.
“Then maybe the key unlocks the place where the other journals are hidden.”
“Maybe,” Ari said, holding it up, “but we need to go get ready for our dinner plans.” She shut the desk drawer and said to Rory, “Thanks so much for your help.”
“Sure.”
“What kind of name is
Rory
?” Jane asked.
“It’s short for Aurora, you know, the princess in
Sleeping Beauty?
When I was born my mama thought I was a little princess.” Jane snorted, and she grinned broadly. “You think that’s funny, do you? I don’t strike you as the princess type?”
“Not really,” Jane said. “I think that title suits me better.”
“Jane, we need to go,” Ari said impatiently.
Rory’s gaze traveled the length of Jane’s body. “I can think of several titles for you, sweetie, but princess isn’t one of them. I’d say you’re a termagant, a harridan, or a virago.”
She frowned. She was quite competitive about vocabulary and was nearly unbeatable at Words with Friends.
Rory chuckled. “Look them up, sweetie.”
They got into the car, and Jane quickly tapped on her iPhone. “I can’t believe her!”
“Forget that for a second, Jane. You need to listen to this entry Nina made four days before she was killed.”
“Is that why you wanted out of there so fast?”
She nodded and read from the page. “‘The secret will be revealed—DANGER. Poor Benedick! Poor Horatio! And poor Orlando—a pawn?’”
“What the hell? Who are these people? Is she talking about Orlando Bloom?”
“I don’t think so. Orlando, Benedick and Horatio were Shakespearean characters, but I think they were from different plays. I’m guessing Nina is using fictitious names to ensure confidentiality.”
“It would make sense since she got burned in the past. Anyone finding a journal entry like that wouldn’t have any idea what she’s talking about.
I
don’t have any idea what she’s talking about.” She tapped on her phone and gasped. “Well, she’s a termagant, too!” When Ari looked at her quizzically, she added, “That bitch called me a bitch—using
better
vocabulary!”
Chapter Six
The last hundred yards was the toughest. Brian made it look easy, adeptly positioning his feet on each of the sandstones, the well-developed muscles in his calves bulging. Molly stayed close behind, determined to make it to the top of Summit Trail, the most strenuous hike Camelback Mountain had to offer. He’d started her on the simple climb to Bobby’s Rock, but she had challenged his choice, asserting she was in great shape. He laughed and then proved her wrong.
The next hike had been up Cholla Trail. It humbled her too, and she immediately realized she was an overweight, out-of-shape alcoholic. Every once in a while she also felt a twinge of pain in her left thigh, the place where she’d been shot nine months before. Yet, she’d complied with his personal training regimen, and in only six weeks she’d exchanged twenty pounds of gut flab for five pounds of toned muscles. She’d never felt better, thanks to his willingness to serve as her personal trainer.
She took a deep breath and pressed forward until they hit the summit and gazed at the valley below. She chugged from her water bottle and ignored her screaming legs.
“Not bad,” Brian said, checking his watch. “Fifty minutes. You’re getting better.”
“How long should it take?”
“Our goal is thirty,” he said with a grin.
“Slave driver.”
Two women passed by and stared. They were serious hikers in boots, waterproof shorts and polyester shirts that offered sun protection. When Molly and Brian met their gaze, they smiled.
“They’re flirting with you,” he said.
She laughed and watched their backsides. “No, I’m certain they were checking out my brother’s astounding physique.”
“How do you know they weren’t your type? I’ve seen the way women look at you lately.”
She soaked up the compliment and felt her cheeks turn red.
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