J. Jance - Web of Evil

Dear Ali, or I suppose I should say, Dear Babe, When they booted you off the air months ago, I always knew you'd be back on TV here in L.A. eventually. I just didn't think it would be like this.

I saw what they showed on the news the other night when you were leaving the coroner's office in Indio. That young woman they replaced you with was so damned smug as she was reading the story. I wanted to slap her. She didn't come right out and mention you by name and say you were a suspect in whatever had happened to your ex, but people recognized you. I recognized you, even though you weren't wearing makeup or anything. And that big guy, Victor, was there with you. Anybody who follows criminal cases in Southern California knows what he's all about. Why would you need a big-time defense attorney if you weren't a defendant?

All I'm trying to say is there are lots of us out here who are still real fans of yours and who think you're being sold down the river. Again. So be strong. Know that peoplepeople you don't even knoware praying for you every day. I'm one of them.

CRYSTAL RYAN, SHERMAN OAKS, CA

She didn't post Crystal's note, but wanting to say something in replysomething that wouldn't get her in trouble with Victor AngeleriAli penned a simple response that said nothing yet covered all the bases.

Dear Crystal,

Thank you for your support.

ALI REYNOLDS

Dear Babe,

Have you called my nephew yet? From what they're saying on the news, I think you'd better. It sounds like things are getting more complicated all the time.

VELMA T IN LAGUNA

Yes, Ali thought. Things are getting more complicated. No, I haven't called your nephew, and I probably won't.

She sent Velma the same note she had sent to Crystal. That was Ali's best bet for the momentrespond but do not engage. Keep a low profile.

Dear Ms. Reynolds,

After what happened to you, I can't believe you'd do the same thing to my uncle. You should be ashamed.

ANDREA MORALES

Ali studied that one for a very long time. She had no idea who Andrea Morales was, much less who the woman's uncle might be or what Ali could possibly have done to him. In the end, she felt she had to defend herself by sending a response.

Dear Andrea,

I'm sorry, but I'm unaware of who your uncle is or what it is you believe I may have done to him. If it's something for which I should offer an apology, please let me know. I would appreciate it if you could supply some additional information which would allow me to be more knowledgeable about this situation.

Thank you.

ALISON REYNOLDS

The next one, unsigned, was even more disturbing.

Hmmmm. Let me get this straight. Your soon-to-be-ex-husband died unexpectedly without having a chance to unload you by slipping loose from that little gold tie that binds? Too bad somebody didn't warn the poor guy about black widows. I think he was married to one. RIP, Fang. You deserved better. As for you, "Babe"? I hope you get what you deserve.

LANCE-A-LOT

Black widow, Ali thought. Thanks-a-lot. Let's hope this one doesn't hit the blogosphere. If it does, it'll go like wildfire.

She didn't reply to that one.

Ali's cell phone rang just then. She hurried to answer it, thinking it would be the hospital. It wasn't.

"Aunt Ali?"

She recognized the voice of ten-year-old Matt Bernard. Months earlier, Matt's mother, Ali's childhood friend Reenie Bernard, had been murdered. In the messy aftermath of Reenie's death, her husband, a professor at Northern Arizona University, had taken off on sabbatical with a new wife in tow and had left his two children, Matt and his younger sister, Julie, in the care of their maternal grandparents in Cottonwood. Ali had stayed in touch with Reenie's two kids as much as possible. Thanks to their grandfather's pet allergies, Ali was also looking after their cat, the plug-ugly, one-eared, sixteen-pound wonder, Samantha.

"Hi, Matt."

"How's Sam?"

"Sam's fine," Ali said. She didn't know that with absolute certainty, but she felt confident in saying so.

"Grandpa and Grandma are driving to Sedona tomorrow afternoon after church," Matt went on. "I was wondering if Julie and I could come by your house for a while to visit and play with Sam."

That was the weird thing about cell phones. Callers dial numbers with a complete mental image of where the other person is and what he or she is doing. No doubt Matt was envisioning Ali in her spacious mobile home in Sedona, curled up on her living room sofa with Sam right there beside her. Instead, Ali was several hundred miles away, sitting in a hotel room, and embroiled in a set of circumstances that might well keep her from returning to Sedona for some time. Ali didn't want to go into any of those messy details with Matthew Bernard right then. Or ever.

"Oh, Matt," she said. "I'm so sorry. I've been called out of town. I won't be there tomorrow."

"Who's taking care of Sam then?" he asked.

"My dad," Ali said. "He loves cats, and they love him. If you're coming up in the afternoon, after the Sugar Loaf is closed for the day, maybe you could visit with Sam at my parents' house."

Matt sounded dubious. "Wouldn't your father mind?"

Ali thought about Bob Larson, a man who adored animals and little kids. "As long as it's after hours, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to have you, but why don't you call him and ask?"

"I think that would be weird." Suddenly Matt seemed stricken with an uncharacteristic case of shyness. "I mean, I don't really know him."

"By the time you and Julie spend Sunday afternoon with him, you will know him," Ali countered. "He may be my father, but he's also a really nice guy."

The call waiting signal beeped in Ali's ear. She glanced at the readoutChris's cell phone. As soon as she saw the number, she felt guilty. She hadn't called her sondeliberately hadn't called himwhen things started going bad. She had considered the mess to be her problem. With Chris starting a new job and a new life, she hadn't wanted to embroil him in her difficulties. But then, she hadn't much wanted Edie Larson and Dave Holman to be dragged into the situation, either.

Ali ended the call with Matt as soon as possible, but by then, Chris had left an irate voice-mail message: "Mom. What the hell is going on out there? Call me."

"I knew you were busy," she said, once she had Chris on the phone. "I didn't want you to worry. How much have you heard?"

"I just got off the phone with Gramps, who had talked to Grandma. I know Paul is dead. I know April's mother fell down a flight of stairs and could very well die, and that the cops think you're a suspect in both cases."

"That just about covers it then," Ali said as lightly as she could manage. "Sounds like you're completely up to date."

"Mother!" Chris exclaimed accusingly.

Chris hardly ever called her "Mother." It usually meant that the two of them were on the outs. And the reverse was true when Ali called him Christopher. This time she was the one who had crossed their invisible line.

"Tell me now," Chris ordered. "I want to hear it from you."

And so Ali didshe told him everything.

"I'm guessing April's mom is the one who came up with the idea of pushing for a postmortem divorce," Chris said when she finished.

"Either she did or her lawyer did," Ali said. "I'm not sure which."

"If anybody would know the ins and outs of divorce, Monique Ragsdale would probably be it," Chris said.

"What do you mean?"

"Monique's had several," Chris replied. "Divorces, that is. Scott Dumphey, one of the guys I used to play basketball with in college, is good friends with Jason Ragsdale, April's stepbrother. That's how I found out about Paul and April in the first placethrough Scott."