It was still raining when Iris opened her front door to retrieve her newspaper. She looked at the rain and her flooded lawn and flowerbeds and at the Triumph parked in the driveway. She had never replaced the badly corroded rubber seals around the frame that held the rag top in place. The car was bound to be damp inside. She worried about this and about the other job she should have done before the rains came—shoring up her backyard. It wasn’t supposed to be raining like this. It was supposed to be a dry winter.
Mulling over these and a million other things to do, she started to dash from the house to get the paper, but stopped when she almost stumbled over a box on the front porch. About a foot square, it was wrapped in glossy pale pink paper and had a big white bow on top. There were no stamps or address. It had to have been hand-delivered during the night. She looked without touching it and noticed that the box’s bottom and lid were wrapped separately, with the ribbon tied just around the lid, like a television show gift that can be opened without any of the wrappings torn, leaving the package looking pretty.
She cautiously stepped around it, visions of the Unabomber dancing in her head. She toyed with the idea of calling the police, but decided it was probably a housewarming gift from Liz. It looked like something Liz would do, dropping off an elaborately wrapped gift on her way home from some gala.
Still, she went back inside the house and retrieved a broom. Holding the front door partially closed as a shield, she hooked the broom handle beneath the lid, counted to three, and flipped it off. She screamed and slammed the door as something exploded into the air. Within seconds, her phone rang.
“Iris, love!” Marge cried. “Are you all right? Did I hear you scream?”
Iris was panting. “Just a second.” She peeked through her living room blinds at the front porch and laughed with relief. “It’s nothing. Someone’s playing a joke. There was a package left on my front porch full of those exploding snakes. Thanks for calling. I’m fine.”
Iris went back outside and looked at the long snakes of accordioned yellow, blue, and red tissue paper that now covered the front porch and were growing soggy. One had a small, folded piece of white paper attached to it. The note had apparently weighted down this snake, as the end still dangled inside in the box. She leaned over and picked up the note from the end that lay on the porch. The typed message said: Wrong move! Mind your own business or your next move might be your last.
She heard a sound that she at first thought was rain flowing through the gutter leading from the roof. Then she realized it was coming from somewhere much closer. She peeked inside the box. A snake, not of tissue paper, was coiled there, shaking its rattle.
“It could have been any one of a number of people who think I’m too involved in their business: T. Duke Sawyer, Summer Fontaine, Evan Finn, the managers at Pandora who want me to sell to T. Duke…” Iris looked into her mug of coffee and trailed off. “Or Kip Cross.”
Detective Tiffany Stubbs was taking notes on a small, spiral-bound notebook. “Is this the first time since Bridget Cross’s murder that anyone has threatened you?”
Iris nodded. “I wish I knew where that rattlesnake went. I don’t want to meet it again in one of my closets.”
“Too bad the animal control people couldn’t find it. Like the guy said, it’ll probably find itself a nice home in the brush around here.” Stubbs flipped the notebook closed and slipped it and her pen into her purse.
“Lovely.”
Stubbs pinched her fingernails against the edge of the threatening note, picked it up, and dropped it inside a brown paper bag. “Looks like it was produced on a laser or ink-jet printer. Virtually impossible to track to an individual machine. I miss the days of the manual typewriter. But we can test the note and the box for fingerprints.”
She started to get up and Iris put her hand out as if to prevent her. “Look, Detective, I’m positive this Evan Finn guy has some connection to T. Duke Sawyer.”
Stubbs stood in spite of Iris’s admonition and slipped the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, as if she wasn’t interested in what Iris had to say about Finn. “Ms. Thorne, I’m sorry about any difficult situations you have at your office. I know how trying things like that can be, but I don’t see any connection between Evan Finn and the Bridget Cross and Alexa Platt murders.”
“But he might have a huge connection.”
Stubbs pursed her lips. She was getting annoyed.
Iris went on. “I have a cocktail glass with Finn’s fingerprints. Please—”
Stubbs put her hand up, cutting Iris off. “I’m sorry, but I’m working on six murders right now. I don’t have time for this.”
Iris stood also. She had quickly changed from her nightclothes into jeans and a sweater before Stubbs arrived. “Maybe you have time for this. Brianna Cross has been drawing pictures of what she saw the night of the murder.” She had Stubbs’s attention now. “I have them.”
“And you didn’t immediately turn them over to us?”
“I only got them yesterday. I didn’t have to tell you about them at all.”
“Fair enough. Give me the glass with the fingerprints.”
“Thanks,” Iris said with relief. She left the room and returned with Brianna’s drawings and the cocktail glass that she’d sealed into a Ziploc bag.
Stubbs eagerly looked through the drawings. “I’m going to petition the court to have Brianna interviewed by a psychologist whether Kip approves of it or not.”
“Poor Iris!” Toni commiserated. “Who would do such a terrible thing to you?”
“Seems like someone’s playing Suckers Finish Last for real.”
They were sitting in Toni’s office at Pandora.
“The vipers’ nest is in the second level,” Toni said. “Whoever’s behind this is clever, I have to hand him that.”
“And very sick.”
“Maybe.”
“How’s the temperature around here?” Iris asked.
Toni rolled her eyes. “Mick and Today are mad at Kip, mad at you, they’re just tweaked in general. They don’t think you know what you’re doing and feel like no one’s running the company. I told them to show a little compassion. I reminded them that if it wasn’t for Kip, there would be no Pandora. He still has contributions to make to the firm. He’s almost finished a new graphics accelerator engine, and from what he says, it’s brilliant.”
Toni pulled her legs underneath her to sit cross-legged on the rolling desk chair. She was wearing a long purple sweater, black leggings, and lace-up boots. “And I told them to give you a break. You didn’t ask for Pandora—it fell into your lap. I told them I’ve been helping you as much as I can, and I’m happy to do it.”
“I appreciate it, Toni. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I was kind of hoping to become indispensable.”
Iris sensed more was coming, having suspected there was a method to Toni’s madness.
Seeming to recognize her demeanor was less than professional, Toni put her feet on the floor, sat straight, and looked at Iris with a sober expression. “I know you’re recruiting someone to run Pandora. Give me a chance, Iris.”
Iris let her go on.
“I don’t pretend for a minute that I could immediately step into Bridget’s shoes, but with a little time, I know I could. I know the players. I know the culture. You might find someone with more experience, but I know how this company works and what makes it work.”
As dippy as Toni frequently appeared, right now she was coming off as controlled, clear, and assertive.
Toni went for the close. “What do you say?”
“You make some good points, Toni. You’ve given me a lot to think about, and I will think about it.”
Toni looked at Iris as if she was expecting more. When nothing more was forthcoming, she said, “That’s all I hoped for. Thanks.” After a few prickly seconds, she changed the subject. “Guess who I went out with last night?”
“Baines?”
“Evan Finn.”
Iris wasn’t completely surprised. Toni seemed to have a problem with looking for love in all the wrong places.
Toni’s professional demeanor disappeared and she giggled. “Thanks so much for inviting me to have drinks with you guys. I’m so happy I met Evan. He’s wonderful!” she gushed. “We’re going out again tonight.”
Iris was less enthusiastic. “You didn’t ask my opinion, but I’d go slowly with him. Frankly, I’m not too sure about him at all.”
“What do you mean?” Toni asked, her eyes impossibly naive.
“I don’t think he’s everything he pretends to be. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Toni bristled. “Easy for you to say, Iris. You have a man.”
Iris let the subject drop. It was clear that advising Toni to examine her taste in men was as pointless as telling Liz to eat more. She looked at her watch. “It’s showtime.”
They left Toni’s office and traveled down the catwalk to the computer lab. Kip, Today, and Mick were already there, sitting in front of an extra-large computer monitor, engrossed in what was displayed there. Summer was there also, standing behind them, appearing interested in the goings-on but easily distracted when Toni and Iris came in. The men seemed unaware of them.
Summer smiled at Iris and then at Toni, who gave her a cool look in response. Summer petulantly shrugged a shoulder and lowered her eyes at her.
“It’s neat, Kip,” Mick enthused. “Really cool.”
“The UI is a little dicey,” Today said.
“It’s a rough prototype,” Kip responded. “I took some of our existing graphics and adapted it just to give you an idea of how the engine works.”
“UI?” Iris whispered to Toni.
“User interface,” Toni whispered back.
“You haven’t seen the best part yet. Watch this.” Kip moved the screen image so it looked as if the player were approaching a precipice. The player then went over the edge, free-falling through the air. The screen image tumbled and turned, shifting between sky and landscape as the ground grew closer.
“Wow!” Mick exclaimed.
“Now that’s new,” Today said appreciatively.
“Just terrific,” Iris added.
Toni put her hand against her forehead. “That can really make you motion sick.”
The screen image moved still closer to the ground. There was impact.
“Whoa!” Today shouted as he thrust both hands into the air. “Un-fucking-believable, man! How the hell did you do that?”
“It’s high image resolution and speed,” Mick said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Show it again,” Toni said.
Kip diffidently turned back to the keyboard. “Okay.”
Summer looked at her watch. “Kip, don’t forget you promised to take Brianna to that birthday party in Laurel Canyon. You need to pick her up by two.”
“I know.” Kip restarted the falling sequence. “I discovered a new way of caching that increases the graphics response on the currently available hardware. It was one of those things that was almost too obvious.”
“My algorithm!”
No one had seen Banzai come into the room. When he crossed the floor, everyone instinctively stepped out of the way, clearing a path to Kip.
Kip turned from the computer and asked no one in particular, “How did he get in here?”
“Who are you, man?” Today asked.
“He’s a nut,” Kip said. “He’s been calling me and hanging around the house.” He glared at Banzai. “You’d better get out of here, before I call the cops.”
Banzai pointed at the computer screen. “You stole my algorithm. I showed it to you so you’d give me a job here. And you stole it!”
“Me—steal from you?” Kip looked at Banzai derisively. “Your stuff had some possibilities, that’s all. Don’t flatter yourself.”
Everyone looked from Kip to Banzai. Toni walked to a phone, dialed a number, and spoke quietly.
“I know my work.” Banzai pointed at the monitor. “That’s my work!”
“No, that’s my work. You and I happened to have a similar idea, that’s all.” Kip’s face was growing red. “Happens all the time.”
Banzai grabbed handfuls of his hair, stumbled across the floor, and yelled, “Liar!”
“Dude, calm down.” Today held his hands out.
“You’re getting scary, man,” Kip said. His forehead was beaded with perspiration. “You’d better get out of here before there’s trouble.”
“I idolized you.”
A security guard arrived and grabbed Banzai, who pulled free. The guard again grabbed Banzai, twisting the young man’s arm behind him, and started dragging him toward the door.
Banzai shouted, “Kip Cross is a has-been! Get out before he rips you off and takes credit for your work.” His cries echoed in the cavernous hangar until he was outside the building.