Cat In An Ultramarine Scheme

She didn’t phrase it as a question, but Temple realized it was the one “burning” question Molina actually wanted someone else’s opinion on.

Wow. Had Rafi supplanted Max as the object of Molina’s obsession? Was this progress or regression or just plain human?

Temple went for shock value. “Max didn’t think much of him.”

“Kinsella knew him?”

As if there were another Max in this town for either of them. Temple noticed Molina was back to last names, a way of dehumanizing people.

“Max ran into Rafi when your ex first came to Vegas,” she explained, “and was working temporary security jobs around town.”

Molina raised her eyebrows expectantly, but no way was Temple going to turn this into a discussion of Max’s various efforts to protect Temple and investigate traces of the bizarre cabal of magicians known as the Synth.

“He found Rafi bitter and biased and just plain bad news.” Temple spotted the slightest hint of a wince in Molina’s features, which she hid behind another sip of sweet-and-sour vodka pop.

Molina was forced to interrogate further. “Later you, as Zoe Chloe Ozone, were so warned off the guy that when you teamed up with my daughter at the Teen Idol reality-TV house, you both got crazy cozy with Rafi Nadir, of all security personnel to turn to with a murderer on the premises.”

“Sounds nuts, doesn’t it?” Temple said with a sober sip and a smile. “Zoe and Mariah were just crazy mixed-up teen kids, right? Actually, Rafi proved pretty perceptive in that house of pop-culture horror and murder. He looked out for us both.”

“And got close to my daughter under false pretenses.”

“Did he even know he had a daughter then? I don’t think so. They just naturally clicked.”

“Oh, my God! You’ve been encouraging their unlikely relationship just to bug me.”

“It’s never been about you, Carmen Molina. That’s like saying you were chasing Max’s shadow all over Vegas for a murder rap just to annoy me. Other people are living their lives naturally, without it being a conspiracy you need to bust.”

Temple sat back. “Yes, I’ve decided that Rafi isn’t so bad. You’re just mad because you’ve come to the same conclusion after Mariah and I did. And ditto for Max. You’re fresh out of personal villains, unless Dirty Larry cooperates and turns out to be a pimp or something.”

Temple wasn’t sure whether Molina was going to explode, stomp out of there, arrest her, or … laugh.

“You are fiercer than you look,” Molina said, shaking her head. “Good thing you plied me with vodka doubles so I’m in a good mood. No. I don’t need any personal villains. Or heroes. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting back at me for pursuing your apparently heroic ex-boyfriend by foisting the villainous Rafi on me.”

“It does seem you underestimated each other back when you were young and foolish. Rafi does seem to have reformed enough to earn a shot at fatherhood, and Mariah deserves to know who he is. She likes him, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Molina put down her glass. “There are right psychological moments, though, and legalities to consider.”

“If you managed to work those out by the junior-high father-daughter dance this fall, that would be nice. Matt is dying not to have anyone depend on him to be an official ‘father’ anymore.”

“He’s not around right now?” Molina looked up at the ceiling that was the floor to Matt’s upstairs unit.

“In Chicago on a working vacation, actually. He has family there.”

“Really? Oh. Of course. That pond-slime stepfather he tracked here had to have left other disenchanted souls behind in Chi-Town. Now that Matt’s past family issues are resolved, I’m sure he’d make a great real father. Mariah likes him too.”

“Not that way, mama. And you’re prying… . We haven’t even set a date and place for the wedding.”

Molina stood. “So it’s anti–Dirty Larry and pro–Rafi Nadir. Pro–Max Kinsella, as always, and pro–Morrie Alch. Interesting. I wonder which of us has been taken in the most? By whom?”

“Ourselves?” Temple offered, standing too. She was determined to reduce the tall police lieutenant’s degree of “loom.”

Molina didn’t answer but pulled a cell phone from her blazer side pocket.

“You’re calling in reinforcements?”

“I’m calling a squad car to drop off a driver for my vehicle. I’m not getting behind the wheel after drinking those ‘Vodka Surprises’ of yours. Nice try. We’ll have to do this again some time. Enjoy the old bling. I’ll see myself out,” Molina said. “Thanks for the drinks.”

Temple blinked and took a deep breath after her front door closed on Molina. She had a valuable Tiffany ring to return to a plastic baggie.

She would not try on Max’s ring to see if it still fit. It would. She would not try the ring on to see if it threw bolts of reflection around the room like it used to. It would. She would not play with the ring, admire the ring, or touch the ring to see if she still felt regrets for Max Kinsella.

Ringing Issues