The Scent of Lies: A Paradise Valley Mystery (14 page)

“I’ll find out, Alex, one way or another,” she promised.

“Let’s hope you do, my friend, but it needs to be quickly.”

“All right, then.” She drew in a deep, calming breath before proceeding. “Do you mind filling me in on what the DA’s file says they have on Delia, I mean besides the obvious thing about the housekeeper seeing her holding the bloody murder weapon?”

“I don’t mind sharing, as long as you know everything is to be kept confidential.”

“Of course, that goes without saying, Alex.” She rolled her eyes like a teenager.

“The ADA’s file showed Delia’s initial statement, which was brief, as well as the housekeeper’s and Mr. Osterman’s reports. There was a forensic report stating the fingerprints on the murder weapon matched Delia and the housekeeper, which was what they had expected. Since Marcela did the cooking, it made sense her fingerprints would also be on the kitchen knife.”

Emily sat on the edge of her seat, listening intently while Alex continued.

“Then there was a photocopy of a hand-written note from Detective Andrews to Assistant District Attorney Laraway saying that he’d learned Ms. McCall had hired a private investigator to tail her husband, suspecting him of infidelity, which he was going to look into further, since a wife suspecting infidelity would be considered a likely motive.”

“Do you think the assistant who copied this information from Miss Laraway’s file meant to copy the note, too?” Emily quirked a questioning eyebrow.

“Good question. Probably not,” Alex answered with a chuckle, “but it does tell us that he knows about it.”

Emily wondered how Colin knew Delia had hired her. Or was he talking about the time she had hired Evan before he died.
I hope he doesn’t know Delia was having her husband investigated for embezzlement too.
If he did, Colin, as well as the prosecutor, would jump right on that as another strong motive.

“This statement from the housekeeper says Ricardo and another woman were arguing—which we already knew—and she says she heard the woman say she was pregnant and that he needed to tell his wife he wanted a divorce. That’s the first I’ve heard of this. I wonder if Delia knows,” Alex said.

“If she does, she never mentioned it to me,” Emily answered.

“That would definitely be considered a strong motive for murder at my house.”

“Hello, anybody here?” Isabel called out from the reception area.

“In here,” Alex shouted through the open door. “Speak of the devil,” he muttered.

“Hey, guys, what’s up?” Isabel asked.

“Just going over some things in the Delia McCall case,” Emily said, smiling up at her friend.

“Anything I can do to help?” Isabel offered as she plopped into the other chair and kicked her shoes off.

“Hard day, babe?” Alex asked.

“It was a real barn burner, as they say.” Isabel let out a long sigh. “But you know I can’t talk about it. Just give me a second to relax and catch my breath, and I’ll be fine.” She leaned back in her chair, letting her long dark curls drape over the back of it, and then crossed her legs on Alex’s desk. “Okay, so tell me, what can I do to help?”

“Do you remember when Emily was considering taking on an investigating job for Delia, she came over and talked to us?” Alex questioned.

“Yes, I remember,” Isabel nodded.

“And you offered to help Em with the investigation of Ricardo Vega’s financials to see if he was embezzling money from Heaven Scent.”

“Yeah...”

“Well, we need your help with that now,” Emily said, finishing Alex’s thought.

“Okay, I could probably do some of it on the side, but it would be better if I check with my supervisor to see if we can make it an official investigation. Heaven Scent is a national company, right?”

“Yes,” Emily replied, “it might even be international.”

“There’s another thing too,” Alex said to Isabel. “The housekeeper’s statement said he was arguing with another woman at the house not long before he was killed. We need to find out who she was.”

“You think she might be the murderer?” Isabel asked.

“The timeline certainly fits,” he said.

“The housekeeper said she heard them arguing over her being pregnant,” Emily stated.

“Oh, my,” Isabel gasped.

“I see it this way,” Emily said, her voice becoming deadly serious, “Delia knew he was having an affair, maybe more than one. I followed him to a condo building a couple of times, but I haven’t been able to figure out which resident he had been visiting there. That condo building could be where the woman that he was having the affair with lives, don’t you think?”

Alex and Isabel both nodded in agreement.

“If I give you the address, Isabel, maybe you could use your government resources to find out who the renters are in that building. I already have the list of owners, but I got nowhere with the building manager on the list of renters. The truth is the murderer could be on one of those lists.”

“Sure, I can work on that. I know people.”

“I figured you might.” Emily smiled.

“What’s the address?”

“Thirty-four hundred Front Street, in Boise.”

Isabel keyed the address into the notes app in her smartphone just as Emily’s phone began to jingle in her purse. She pulled it out to see who was calling—it read PV Police. She suspected it was Colin calling, maybe to ask her to dinner again. She clicked it off.

“Who was that?” Isabel asked.

“I’m not sure, someone at the Paradise Valley Police Department.”

“The very handsome and eligible Detective Colin Andrews?”

“Maybe. He can leave a message.” Emily shoved the phone back in her purse.

“It doesn’t sound like you want him to call you,” Isabel noted.

“He’s just so, so—”

“So what?” Isabel asked.

“So infuriating, so condescending, so...” Emily shook her head in frustration, her loose curls dancing around her neck.

“Sexy?” Isabel offered.

“All right, that’s enough.” Emily jetted out of her chair, exasperated at her friend’s obvious attempt at match making. “It’s time for me to go home now.”

“She’s got it worse than I thought.” Emily heard Isabel giggle to Alex on her way out.

***

Driving home, Emily’s head throbbed with the piercing irritation that came from just thinking about Colin Andrews. With Isabel bringing him up like that, pointing out how sexy he was—it was her fault that Emily couldn’t get him out of her mind.

Her phone began ringing again and she saw PV Police on the display again. Once more she clicked it to ignore the call.

I’m just not in the mood, Detective Andrews.

Emily drove a little farther and the phone began to ring once more. Irritated, she picked it up and answered it. “No, I won’t have dinner with you!”

“How did you know I was going to invite you?” Isabel asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was someone else.”

“Colin?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Okay, let’s try this again. Hello?”

“Hi, Em. This is Isabel. Alex says he’s going to stay at the office and work late on another case, so I’m free for dinner if you are.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t say anything while I was there.”

“I would have if you hadn’t bolted like you did. So, are you free?”

“Actually, I am. Why don’t you come to my house and I’ll make some chicken stir-fry or something?”

“You sure? We could go out.”

“No, come over. I have something I’ve wanted to talk to you about anyway.”

“Really? What is it?”

“I’ll tell you over dinner.”

“All right, then. See you in a little while.”

Emily ended the call and tossed the phone in her handbag. She had wanted to talk to Isabel about the contents of the safe deposit box ever since she’d found it. This evening she would have Isabel all to herself, and they could have a good talk about it in private. She appreciated Isabel as the level-headed friend in their circle, the one who looked logically at things and wasn’t all caught up in emotions and drama like the other two.

Emily had the chicken and vegetables cut up and already in the wok by the time Isabel arrived, and the rice was steaming nicely on the stove.

“Knock, knock.” Isabel slowly opened the front door.

“Back here,” Emily called out from the kitchen.

She gave Isabel a quick hug when she walked in and handed her a piece of diced chicken on a fork. “Taste this and see if it has enough seasoning.”

“A little more salt I think,” Isabel said. She had become the best cook in Camille’s original cooking class where they all had met, and Emily took advantage of that whenever she could.

Emily sprinkled a little more salt on the food and scooped it into the waiting bowls. “Dinner is served.”

They sat, ate, and chatted about this and that, but when the food was gone, Isabel reached out and put her hand on Emily’s forearm. “Okay, Em. Seriously, what did you want to talk about?”

“This is going to sound crazy—”

“In my line of work, I’ve heard it all. So, please, proceed.”

“Do you remember when I called you and you invited me to your barbecue? I told you I had found a key to a safe deposit box that Evan had hidden in the closet.”

“Yes, I remember that, but you never told me the rest of the story.”

Emily opened herself up and unfolded the whole story to Isabel, describing everything she found in the metal box, including the photo of Evan with his arm around another woman. She went on about how she felt packing up Evan’s belongings, crying and screaming and throwing things in anger at being lied to.

“I feel like I don’t even know who Evan was. Like a child, I believed everything he told me, about his job and his parents—everything! Now, I don’t know what part was the truth and what part was a lie.” Emily wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek.

“You weren’t acting like a child—you were a woman in love. It sounds to me like you have a right to be suspicious. He was definitely hiding something. If you like, I can do a background check on Evan and see what comes up.”

“Yes, if you could do that, maybe we can figure out what all this means. Maybe it will unravel the mystery of what got him killed.”

“You’d better prepare yourself, though, Em. We might uncover something ugly. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just forget about it and remember Evan as the wonderful man you married?”

“As much as I’d like to do that, I think that train has already left the station.”

“Is there something else you’re not telling me?” Isabel asked with a frown.

Emily rarely could hide anything from Isabel. She looked away for a moment. Should she tell her friend that she suspected her husband of stealing from her? Perhaps Isabel could help her solve that mystery as well and put her mind to rest about it.

“Okay, here it is. My grandmother’s diamond ring is missing.” Emily took their bowls to the kitchen sink. She couldn’t look her friend in the eye when she said it. It hurt too much to talk about Evan that way.

“Are you talking about that big emerald-cut ring you showed me once?”

“Yes.” The word barely squeezed out through the tightness in her throat.

“And you think Evan took it?”

“Who else could it be?” Emily blinked against the tears blurring her vision, as she rinsed the bowls. “He was the only person who knew where it was hidden, besides me.”

“Oh, Emily.” Isabel rose and moved to the sink. She put her arm around Emily.

“When I figured out the key was to a safe deposit box, I thought maybe I would find it in there. But when I opened the box, it wasn’t there.”

“You’ve been carrying all of this around, not telling anyone?”

“I didn’t want anyone to know until I knew the whole truth.” Emily wiped her eyes with a napkin.

“Well you don’t need to carry this alone, Em. I’ll help you find out what you need to know. Then you can put it to rest and move on with your life.”

Chapter 12

The next morning, Isabel phoned Emily saying she had tracked down the license number of the mysterious dark car. It belonged to a car rental company near the airport. So, without delay, Emily raced over to the rental office to speak with the manager.

Alex could probably subpoena the information, but it would be faster if she was able to get the information herself. And she figured she would rack up some props from Alex and shore up his confidence in her as an investigator.

While she drove, she mulled over how to get the info she needed—the manager probably wouldn’t just give out confidential information. Without a police badge to flash, she had to decide between using her feminine wiles or fabricating a compelling sob story.

Emily swung her car into a parking space in front of the building. Before sliding out of her vehicle, she turned her back to the front of the building and did something she never thought she’d have to do. She took the inside edge of her hand, near her index finger, and hit her nose on the cartilage between her nostrils. She knew it would bring instant tears to her eyes—real tears.