Web of Evil

even though we've been divorced for fifteen years and hes been dead for ten. If I end up still being married to him when I get to heaven, I may just turn around and walk right back out.

LILY

The next comment came from one of Ali's regulars, a widowed longtime fan from California, who wrote cheery little notes every other day or so. Over the months, Ali had come to think of the woman as a friend, despite the fact that they had never met in person.

Dear Babe,

I know this is a tough time for you. I just wanted you to know my thoughts and prayers are with you.

VELMA T IN LAGUNA

Then there was Fred.

What happened to 'Whosoever God has joined together let no man put asunder'? No wonder the world is going to hell in a handbasket. First women wanted the Equal Rights Amendment and now they don't even want to bother with having husbands. And did you ever give any thought as to how you treated your husband and what might have driven him into the arms of another woman? I'm glad I only have sons and no daughters.

FRED

So am I, Ali thought. She decided not to post Fred's comment. Then she changed her mind. She suspected there were a lot of people in the world who shared his opinion and regarded independent women as a direct threat to their manhood and to their very existence. Maybe that was something cutlooseblog needed to bring up as a topic of discussion.

Dear Babe,

My husband did the same thing, married his little cutie two days after our divorce. It didn't last. Two months later he was back, knocking on my door because she'd thrown him out and begging me to take him back, which I did. He stayed for three more years after that then he left again and now I don't know where he is. But I know you're smarter than I am, so if your cheating husband asks you to take him back, whatever you do, don't.

WISER NOW

Ali's phone rang. She recognized the numberthe Flagstaff branch of the YWCA. 'Hi, Andrea,' Ali said.

Andrea was Andrea Rogers. A year ago, Andrea had been second in command in what was essentially a two-woman nonprofit spearheaded by Ali's girlhood best friend, Reenie Bernard. Reenie had been the outgoing, fund-raising brains of the outfit, while Andrea had functioned as office manager, keeping the place running smoothly in Reenie's absence. After Reenie's tragic murder, it had been Andrea who had tracked down Reenie's personal effects and, for the benefit of Reenie's orphaned children, rescued them from the thrift shop where they'd been shipped by Reenie's less-than-grief-stricken husband.

For Andrea, that one act of kindness on behalf of Reenie's kids had been the beginning of a new sense of self-confidence and independence. The Flagstaff YWCA had been so much Reenie Bernard's baby that, in the initial aftermath of her murder, there had been serious talk of shutting the place down, but Andrea in particular had been determined that Reenie's dream wouldn't perish with her. Over a period of several months, Andrea had managed to keep the doors open while Ali worked to convince the board of directors that, with a little assistance and encouragement from them, Andrea could be groomed to take over the executive director's position.

Her official promotion had happened three months ago. The board had hired a new assistant for Andrea, but Andrea had yet to catch on to the fact that she no longer needed to answer the phone herselfwhich she did most of the time.

Andrea was a plugger. She was dependable. She didn't have the finesse or the vision of a Reenie Bernard. What she had instead was an absolute devotion to her murdered boss and unbridled enthusiasm about carrying Reenie's life's work forward. One way or another, Andrea managed to get things done.

'Is it over then?' Andrea asked.

'It' being the divorce?' Ali asked.

'Of course, the divorce,' Andrea returned. 'What else would I be asking about?'

'I'm beginning to wonder if my divorce will ever be over,' Ali replied and went on to repeat the gory details one more time.

'But what if you're not home in time for the board meeting next Friday?' Andrea asked, as a hint of her old reticence crept into her voice. 'I've never handled one of those by myself. I've always had you there to backstop me.'

'I'll do what I can to be home by then,' Ali said. 'But if I'm not, you'll be fine. You know more about what's going on at the YWCA than anyone. You'll be able to handle it.'

'I hope so,' Andrea said, but she didn't sound convinced.

Ali was talking on her cell phone. It surprised her when the room phone began to ring. 'Sorry, Andrea,' Ali said. 'I need to take that.'

'Ms. Reynolds?' a woman's voice asked.

'Yes.'

'My name is Detective Carolyn Little,' she said. 'I'm with the LAPD's Missing Persons Unit. Mr. Ted Grantham said you were staying at the Westwood, and I took the liberty of calling.'

'About?' Ali asked.

'About your husband.'

'My soon-to-be-former husband,' Ali corrected.

'Are you aware he's missing?'

'I know he failed to show up in court this morning for our divorce hearing,' Ali answered. 'That's all I know.'

'He's been reported missing by one April Gaddis.'

'His fiancee,' Ali supplied.

'Yes,' Detective Little answered. 'She did mention that she and Mr. Grayson are engaged. It seems he went to a bachelor party last evening and never came home.'

Ali felt like mentioning that for Paul to declare himself a bachelor prior to his divorce being finalized was a bit like putting the cart before the horse, but Detective Little didn't sound like she had much of a sense of humor.

'When was the last time you saw your husband?' Detective Little asked.

'That would be Friday, March eleventh of this year,' Ali answered at once.

There was a slight pause. 'March eleventh? That's a long time agosix months, but you still remember the exact date?'

'And the exact time,' Ali responded. 'I had just lost my job. I came home, expecting some sympathy from my husband, but in our house, you find sympathy in the dictionary between shit' and syphilis.' He took off with his girlfriend bright and early the next morning before I even woke up.'

The 'shit' and syphilis'' reference was one of her father's more colorful expressions, one that was guaranteed to send Bob Larson's wife into a spasm. Even Carolyn Little chuckled a little at that, so the woman wasn't entirely devoid of humor.

'This same girlfriend?' the detective added. 'The fiancee?'

'Yes,' Ali agreed. 'That would be the onethe same one who's expecting his baby.'

'And you came to town when?'

'Last night,' Ali said. 'I drove over from Sedona yesterday afternoon. I got a late start. It was almost two in the morning before I finished checking in.'

'And you're here until?'

'Paul and I have another court date scheduled for next week.'

'On Thursday,' Little said. Obviously she had already acquired the information from Ted Grantham. 'And you'll be staying at the Westwood? And is there another number in case I need to reach you again?'

It had been six months since Ali had seen Paul Grayson, and she didn't see why the Missing Persons Unit would need to speak to her again, but she gave the detective her cell phone number all the same.

As Ali ended the call with Detective Little, she was already groping for the television remote. Within minutes of turning on the set she located a news tease from Annette Carrera, Ali Reynolds's blond, blue-eyed, surgically