The Pursuit of Lies (Book #4, Paradise Valley) (14 page)

Her laptop sat on the breakfast bar. She lifted the lid and turned it on before grabbing a strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator and a spoon from the drawer. Pushing the drawer shut with her hip, she stepped to her computer and slid up onto a barstool. After typing
florists in Paradise Valley Idaho
into Google.com, the search pulled up four shops.

Beginning with the one closest to her house, Emily scribbled down the names and addresses of the four places. First, she’d head to Hope Blooms—she liked the sound of that—then she’d work her way down the list.

Emily thought of Peter and his offer to help. If the four florists turned up zilch, perhaps Peter would have time to run down a few more florists in the area. After giving him an hour or so to have lunch with Camille and Maggie, she’d call him to see. She needed to talk to Maggie anyway, about their meet up with Mr. McDonald at the Ha’Penny this evening.

~*~

Emily parked her white Volvo on Main Street and went inside the Hope Blooms florist shop. The tiny brass bells jingled as she pushed the front door open. The fragrance from all the colorful and exotic flowers filled the little shop and Emily couldn’t help but inhale deeply.

“Hello, can I help you?” the thirty-something man cheerfully asked from behind the crowded laminate counter.

Emily’s attention was briefly distracted by all the inviting sights and smells of the blossoms. She drew her focus back and directed it at the man. “Yes, I hope so.” She pulled the oversized photo out of a manila envelope and showed it to him. “Do you sell this type of plant?”

He took the picture from her and studied it for a second. “We have had these in the past, but we’re all out right now. Can I interest you in some begonias instead?”

“Actually, no. I’m trying to find out where these cyclamen were purchased and by whom. I’m investigating a crime and whoever purchased these flowers could be the man I’m looking for.”

“Sounds serious—I wish I could help you.”

“Does that look like your note cards?” she asked.

“Hard to say, but unless it’s one with a personalized logo, we all have access to the same cards.”

“Are you the only one who works here?”

“No, my wife and I own the shop, but she’s out of town for the next few days. Besides, I can’t imagine she would remember who purchased what, unless it was one of our regulars or the buyer paid by credit card and we had a record of it, but she takes care of all that. I can ask when she comes back.”

“Do you happen to have a security camera in this place?” Emily glanced around the ceiling corners.

“No, sorry.” He handed the photo back to her.

She wrote a name and phone number on the back of one of her business cards, and slid it across the counter. “I know it’s a long shot, but call me if you, or your wife, remember anything. And if you can’t reach me, call that number on the back and ask for Ernie. It’s important.”

~*~

Having no luck with any of the flower shops in town, she decided it was time to phone Peter as she headed back to the hospital to see Colin.

“Hello, Emily. Need me already?”

Emily explained about the florists she had visited, and why, and how she could use his help to canvass a few more.

“Seems like we’re searching for a needle in a haystack, Emily.”

“Just trying to be productive while we wait to find other leads. Besides, even if we can’t arrest the guy because he bought the flowers, at least if we find out who did, we’ll be pointed in the right direction. Maggie and I are meeting with our first prospect this evening.”

“Yeah, she told me. Mind if I tag along?”

“I don’t mind as long as you stay in the background, Peter. If the guy thinks either one of us is there with a date, it could squirrel the whole thing.”

“I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there.”

“It would sure help if we knew if this is the guy who purchased the flowers.”

“Maybe I can dig something up this afternoon.”

“Yes, hopefully. Say, is Maggie still with you?”

“Yes, she’s right here. Hold on.”

Emily could hear Peter in the background, informing Maggie that Emily was on the phone for her.

“Hey, Em. What’s up?”

“Just confirming we’re meeting at the Ha’Penny tonight at six.”

“It’s in my calendar.”

“Make sure you come dressed to kill.”

~*~

Emily swung by the hospital and breezed up to Colin’s room on the third floor. She knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Ernie was speaking with Colin and he looked up when she came in.

Colin smiled and put out his hand to her.

“How’s our boy doing?” Emily went to Colin’s side and took his hand. She bent down and kissed him gently on the lips.

“I think they must have upped his pain meds, ‘cause he seems to be feeling no pain.” Ernie laughed.

Colin grimaced at his friend. “Oh, don’t listen to him.”

Emily shook her head at the both of them. “How’s the list coming?”

“There are a few contenders we saw just taking a cursory look.” Colin shrugged. “It’s hard to say, though, they probably all want to kill me for putting them away.”

“Anyone who stands out?” Emily sat on the edge of the bed, near the foot, and set her large leather handbag beside her. “There must be someone.” She glanced from Colin to Ernie.

“Show her the list,” Colin said. “Ernie circled a few.”

“Just a few?”

Ernie cleared his throat as he handed her the printout. “I already researched some of the names on the list this morning, crossed out those still in prison, or dead.”

Emily’s gaze scanned the sheets that held the convicts’ names and the crimes for which they were convicted. “These three candidates, did you have to testify at their trials?”

“I did.” Colin nodded. “Two of them while I was a rookie detective. The last circled on the list,” his voice tightened, “was the man who shot Miranda.”

Emily’s stomach cramped a little at the mention of Miranda. She was Colin’s first fiancée, a fellow law enforcement officer killed in the line of duty several years before. Emily noticed Colin’s lips thin and his eyebrows wrinkle, and she wondered what he was feeling.

Could convict number three be the one seeking revenge for Colin putting him away? If anyone deserved to get payback in that scenario, it was Colin.

How could he be out already? It was only a few years ago. Early parole or he got off on a technicality perhaps.

Emily leaned forward on the bed and touched his hand. “You okay, Sweetheart?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Talking about it just took me back there for a minute.” He attempted to lace his fingers behind his head, but grimaced and rested them across his stomach instead. “What’s next?”

She brought them up to speed on her so-far-unsuccessful search for the mysterious florist and the plan to talk casually to the husband of Amanda McDonald that evening.

“You be careful—that guy was a nut job,” Colin warned.

“Don’t worry about me. Maggie and Peter are coming along, as well as my trusty handgun.” She pulled her purse up on her lap and patted it. “All I want to find out tonight is if this guy has an alibi for Thursday night or not. If he’s got a solid one, he’s not our guy and we can move on.”

“But if he is…” Ernie raised his eyebrows at them both.

“Then it’ll be our job to prove he did it,” Colin added. “He certainly has the computer skills.”

Emily nodded her agreement. “Then we’ll know who to focus on. I’ve been calling the mysterious murderer Mr. X—it’ll be nice to know his real name.”

“I’d like to know how Mr. X got your fingerprints and your DNA.” Ernie wagged his chunky pointer finger at Colin.

“And how he was able to plant them all over Allison’s condo, because you’ve never been there, right?” Emily stared into Colin’s eyes.

“No, Emily, I’ve never been there.” His arms came quickly from their resting place across his stomach and he awkwardly propped himself up on one elbow. “I thought we already went over that.”

“Just making sure.” She patted his leg. There was that freakin’ two percent rearing its suspicious head again.

“Somehow he must have gotten into my apartment or something.”

“It wouldn’t be that hard. You’re hardly ever there,” Ernie said.

Emily checked her watch. “I’d better be going—it’s getting late. I need to get dolled up for my date tonight with Mr. McDonald.”

Chapter 16

Tuesday evening in the historic district of downtown Boise, Peter and Maggie met Emily outside the entrance of the Ha’Penny Tavern. Both women were decked out for a party—a hunting party.

Ernie had provided Emily a driver’s license photo of Clive McDonald so the girls could easily identify him and had warned Emily again to be on guard. Colin was so anxious to question the man himself that Ernie practically had to sit on him to keep him from climbing out of bed and throwing his clothes on to go with her.

“Here, Maggie.” Emily pulled the photocopy out of her purse. “This is the guy.”

Maggie studied his face.

“Remember the plan?”

“I remember.” Maggie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Peter, you hang back and try to blend in.”

“Got it, boss.” He grinned at Emily as he opened the heavy oak and glass door for the ladies. “I’ll count to a hundred before I come in.”

An Irish band was playing on stage and the music was blaring as the girls made their entrance. The tavern looked about half full, with many of the patrons clapping enthusiastically along with the raucous Celtic beat. The room was fairly well lit and small wooden tables with chairs dotted the central area of the pub. A long bar stretched down one end of the room and a separate poolroom was visible through a cutout in the wall.

“Let’s grab a table.” Emily said to Maggie as she scanned the room. “Pick one where we can watch for our friend.”

Maggie nodded and headed toward the tables at the back of the room with a clear sight of the bar. Emily trailed close behind.

“Good?” Maggie asked, adjusting her low-cut blouse.

“Fine,” Emily replied, not sure if she’d meant the table or her cleavage.

The two sat and slowly peered around the room, but there was no sign of Clive McDonald. Emily noticed Peter amble in and he took a table not far from them.

“What
kin
I get for ya?” the waitress asked Maggie and Emily in a thick Irish brogue, with flesh overflowing her tight, ruffled, and very short wench-of-a-waitress outfit. Her curly black hair was mostly pulled up with loose tendrils dancing about her neck.

“A glass of white wine, please,” Maggie ordered.

“This be no fancy wine bar, lassie. That’d be ‘round the
carner
. It’ll be Guinness or stout we be servin’.”

“Two glasses of Guinness then, please,” Emily said.

The waitress wrote down their order on her pad and took it to the bar.

“I wonder if her accent is real or it’s all for show,” Maggie asked once she was sure the woman was out of earshot.

“You should know, Miss Maggie Sullivan. Names don’t get any more Irish than that.” Emily leaned back in her chair and kept her gaze roving around the room.

“Y’all think I’m Irish?”

“Don’t look now, but I believe that’s him over by the bar.”

Maggie’s head spun in the bar’s direction. “Where?”

“Geez, Maggs, I said
don’t
look.”

Maggie appeared to do her best to nonchalantly bring her gaze back to her own table.

“He’s taking a stool at the bar now. I saw him come out of the back poolroom.”

“Should we approach him?” Maggie asked, looking only at Emily.

“Let’s wait for our drinks, then we’ll go.” Emily looked over at Peter and caught his gaze. She lifted her chin in the direction of the bar and he gave a slight nod in return.

“There ye be,” the busty waitress said, setting their glasses and bill down on the table.

Emily dug some cash out of her purse and handed it to the woman. As the waitress put her fingers on it to take it, Emily put her hand there as well. “I’ll add to this amount if you give me a wee bit of information.”

Surprise lit up the woman’s dark eyes. “If it’s information you’ll be wantin’, I’m your gal.”

Emily tugged a twenty out of her purse and added it to the cash. Based on the intel Ernie had provided, she knew Clive McDonald was a regular in this place. “The guy at the bar,” she tilted her head in his direction, “the one with the deep blue sweater, what can you tell me about him?”

The woman glanced over at the few patrons that sat at the bar. “Oh, him? He’s an okay bloke. Used to be a real pistol when his wife was ‘round, ‘til she got herself locked up. Now, he pretty much keeps to himself. You’ve heard about his wife, haven’t ya?”

“Yes, we heard.” Emily handed the money to the wench, who snatched it up and instantly shoved it down the front of her frilly white blouse.

“Thank you, mum.” She whirled away in Peter’s direction.

“Definitely fake,” Maggie surmised, taking a sip from her glass.

“The boobs or the accent?” Emily followed the woman with her gaze.

“Both.”

Emily had to cover her mouth with a few fingers to keep a small giggle contained, and she swallowed hard. “Ready?”

The two took their glasses and meandered through the tables until they reached the bar, sliding up onto the two barstools to the left of Clive McDonald. Maggie took the seat closest to the man, as planned.

“Hey, aren’t you that fella I danced with at The Buffalo Club last Thursday night?”

He cleared his throat as he turned his upper body toward her. He looked her over from her sparkling blue eyes down to her long shapely legs, which were amply exposed by her short skirt. “Sorry, honey, but I think I’d remember that.”

“We were sittin’ over at our table and saw you walk in, and I bet my friend twenty dollars it was you I was dancin’ with.”

“No, it wasn’t me, ladies. Sorry.”

“He looks just like that guy at the club Thursday night,” Emily added. “Tall and handsome. I’m sure that’s him.”

“I promise you, I wasn’t there Thursday night.” He shook his head then took a drink from his beer. “I wish it had been me,” he said with a leering grin.