The Scent of Lies: A Paradise Valley Mystery (27 page)

“Yes, Emily Parker. Someone took a shot at her.”

“Do you know if she’s all right?” Allison asked, taking another sip of her drink.

“I heard she was fine,” Colin replied. “The officer on the scene said she believes it may have something to do with the Vega murder that she’s investigating.”

“What’s there to investigate?” she asked, setting her drink down. “We’ve already arrested the wife and are preparing for trial. It’s pretty much an open and shut case, if you ask me.”

“I guess Delia and her attorney don’t agree with you, Allison.”

“You know as well as I do that every convicted murderer claims they didn’t do it.” She picked up her glass and tipped back the rest of her cocktail.

“She’s not convicted yet, Allison.”

“She will be.”

Chapter 25

Around ten o’clock the next morning, Colin phoned Emily from his office to see how she was doing.

“The hot bath helped,” she said, “but I only slept off and on.” Then she asked if there was any news on the shootings, but he had to admit there was none yet.

Before he hung up, he promised to call her again later. Then Colin sat at his desk, staring out the window, thinking about Emily. He thought about the numerous times he had been shot at, both in war and as a policeman, and no matter how often it happens, he knew it rattles a person for a while. It wasn’t like in the movies or on television where people just shake it off and keep going—in real life it takes an emotional toll.

Given the option of being a real estate agent or a private investigator, he thought about how she had chosen to plunge headlong into a dangerous profession that, at times, would put her life at risk. Except for the suspicious and violent murder of her husband, he believed her life had been relatively happy and easy—until now.

Colin was surprised by how strong his desire was to protect Emily. He had felt a spark when they’d first met, but he told himself he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Somehow, though, she was getting to him and he felt helpless to stop her.

He had done his best to seal up his heart after Miranda died, keeping any other women from finding their way in. He had gone on a few casual dates, usually set up by well-meaning friends, but he vigilantly kept a wall up to guard against having his spirit ripped apart again.

But this Emily Parker—before he knew it, she was systematically dismantling his emotional fortress with her vulnerability and her passion, her sweetness and her courage.

There were times when she could be so irritating and argumentative. She called it being a passionate woman who knows her mind. His dad would call it
adding spice to the relationship
.

In the discussions Colin had over the years with his dad about women, he would say, “The spicy, passionate ones are the most fun to make up with, Son—so much more exciting than the easy, let’s-just-get-along type,” which always got a chuckle out of him.

Colin had found it rather easy to keep women at arm’s length for the past year, but now he was being pulled toward Emily by a force that felt beyond his control. He wondered if she felt the same.

* * *

Emily spent a few hours at Moxie Java, sitting at a small bistro table, enjoying a Chai latté and devising a plan to expose Ricardo’s killer once and for all. She was tired of being shot at, tired of being lied to, and she figured the best way to put an end to it was to ensnare the killer. With Anna Petrova being her number one suspect, Emily decided she would need to speak to her, face to face, in order to trick her into revealing herself.

Driving over to the Heaven Scent offices, Emily phoned Colin on the way. “Hey, I need you to call me in exactly fifteen minutes. Can you do that?”

“What’s up, Emily?” he asked, suspiciously.

“I’m going to try something, set a trap for Ricardo’s killer.”

“You want to explain the plan to me?”

“Not yet, I just need you to call me in exactly fifteen minutes,” she said.

“Okay, but what—”

“Oh, and disregard anything I say to you when you call.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“So, what’s the bait?” he asked.

“I am,” Emily replied as she hung up.

She found a spot in the visitor’s parking and went into the offices to speak with Anna. As Emily approached the reception area, Anna walked by, carrying an overflowing box.

“Anna?” she called out.

Anna turned and looked at Emily, stopping in her tracks, obviously surprised to see her.

“What’s going on?” Emily asked, wondering why she was carrying what appeared to be a box containing the contents of her desk.

“Delia fired me.”

“She’s back to work?” Emily asked. She hadn’t expected Delia back for a few more days.

“No, she emailed me this morning—didn’t even have the guts to tell me to my face,” she scowled, “saying she couldn’t trust me anymore and she wanted me to clear out my desk today. Can you believe that? She even had Henry in accounting bring me my severance check.”

Actually, Emily couldn’t believe that. She couldn’t believe what lousy timing Delia had in making this decision.
Calm down,
Emily reminded herself,
the plan can still work
.

“Here, let me get the door for you,” Emily offered. Anna marched out and Emily followed her to the parking lot.

“As a matter of fact, I came to see you,” she explained.

“Why?” Anna asked, stopping on the sidewalk.

“I have some questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

“This box is kind of heavy.”

“Once you get it in your car, can we talk?” Emily asked.

“Sure, why not. This day couldn’t get any worse,” Anna replied, reaching her car. “Could you take the box while I open the trunk?”

Emily wrestled the bulky box out of Anna’s hands and set it in the trunk as soon as it flipped open.

“Now, what did you want to ask?”

“I wanted to know if you were still planning to testify against Delia?” Emily leaned a hip against the car.

“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just wondered if you honestly want everyone to know you were having an affair with her husband and that you’re pregnant with his child.” Emily stood up straight and faced Anna. “Are you sure you want to be dragged through the mud like that? You have to know the story will be plastered all over the television and the internet.”

“I don’t care anymore. I just want Ricardo’s killer to get what she has coming to her.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you’re angry she fired you?” Emily asked.

“She actually did me a favor.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Even if she gets off, it doesn’t mean she didn’t do it—she just got away with it. How could I ever work with her again? I’d always have to watch my back. No, it’s better this way—take my money and move on.”

“But what if I can prove who the
real
murderer is? Would you change your testimony then?” Emily asked, hoping to pique Anna’s interest.

“How?”

Emily’s phone began to ring.
Right on time.

“Can you hold on just a moment, Anna? I need to take this call—it’s Delia—but I have one more important question for you.”

“Oh, all right,” she huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back against her car.

“Hello, Delia,” Emily said, walking a few feet away like it was a private call, making sure Anna could still overhear her.

“Uh huh...yes, that’s right,” Emily went on, as if she were talking to Delia. “Yes, Ricardo’s blood...uh huh. DNA doesn’t lie. Well, I want to show you what I’ve found before I turn it over to the police, you know, get your approval, since I am working for you.” She paused for effect. “Why don’t you meet me at Evan’s old office tonight, four twenty-two Main Street,” she said the address slowly, “at seven o’clock...Yes, seven o’clock,” she repeated for emphasis. “Yes, I know you didn’t do it, Delia, and this will prove it...All right, see you tonight.”

Emily switched off her phone and turned back to Anna. “Sorry about that. Now where were we?” She looked into Anna’s face, trying to get a read on her reaction to the phone conversation. Her expression gave nothing away, although her skin looked rather pale. She wondered if Anna was like the proverbial duck on the pond, looking peaceful above the water but she was paddling like crazy below the surface.

“You said you could prove who the real killer was,” she replied. “And you said you had one more question for me.”

“Oh, yes. Thanks for reminding me. I wanted to ask if you know a man by the name of Harry Andropov.” Emily watched for a reaction. She already knew the answer, but she needed to come up with a question, any question, to keep Anna from leaving. Asking about Harry Andropov seemed as good a question as any.

“No, I don’t think I know that name.” Anna responded, but her facial expression appeared to say otherwise.

“Well, he seems to know you,” Emily said as she walked away, leaving Anna with eyes wide and a look of panic on her face.

* * *

Emily drove to Delia’s home for the next step in her plan. She hoped Delia hadn’t thrown a monkey wrench in the whole thing by firing Anna. She needed to know once and for all if Anna killed Ricardo or if Delia did it. She hated the thought that Delia could be lying, but the circumstantial evidence certainly pointed to her.

She rang the doorbell and the housekeeper let her in. Delia was working in her office, just off the entry, and came out when she heard Emily’s voice.

“Thank you, Marcela. Could you please make me some tea?” Delia asked.

“Yes, Miss Delia,” Marcela replied and hurried to the kitchen.

“What brings you here, Emily?” Delia inquired, stepping into the living room.

“Sorry, Delia, but I’m going to cut the chit chat and get straight to the point. Why did you fire Anna?” Emily asked, following her to the sofa.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t fire Anna,” Delia said. “I wanted to—I planned to—but I didn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“Well, I just came from your office and she was cleaning out her desk. She said you sent her an email this morning, firing her, and that Henry from accounting brought her a severance check.”

“Honestly, Emily, I don’t have any idea what’s going on. It wasn’t me. I’m just working from home as best I can, waiting for Alex to tell me when I can go back to the office. I haven’t had any contact with her.”

“Looks like you can go back now, because Anna is gone. I have to say, though, this couldn’t have come at a worse time,” Emily said, shaking her head. “She’s dug in her heels and is determined to testify against you.”

“I know, Alex told me. I’m not happy about it, but I assure you I did not fire her. Someone must have gotten into my email and sent it so it would look like it came from me.”

“You mean someone at your office? Or from your computer here?”

“Either one, or they could have hacked into it remotely, if they were computer-savvy enough.”

“I’ll see what I can do to find out who did it, but first I wanted to tell you something.” Emily hoped her plan to expose either Delia or Anna as the true killer would go as she’d planned.

She was about to speak but paused as Marcela walked into the living room with Delia’s afternoon tea and cookies. The housekeeper set the tray on the table and poured the tea.

“Would you like some tea, Emily?” Delia offered graciously.

“No, thanks,” she replied. “Besides the firing fiasco, I wanted to let you know, Delia, that I’ve uncovered some new evidence that will prove who the real killer is. I think it’s Anna Petrova, and I believe I can prove it.”

“Really?” Delia asked excitedly, as she picked up her teacup and saucer. “Don’t leave me guessing, Emily. What’s the new evidence?”

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I have it locked away in Evan’s old desk for safekeeping, you know, at his old office on Main Street.”

“I see,” Delia responded, sipping her tea.

“Is there anything else you need, Miss Delia?” the housekeeper asked.

“No, that’s all,” Delia replied. Marcela left the room and stood by in the foyer.

“Well, I have some things to take care of this afternoon,” Emily said, “then I’m going by the office about seven to pick it up. Once I have it, I’m heading straight to the police station to turn it over to Colin.”

“I’m anxious to hear how that all turns out,” Delia replied.

“I think you’ll be pleased with this new evidence. DNA doesn’t lie.” Emily hoped she had sufficiently baited Delia if she was, in fact, the killer. If Delia believed there was evidence that would prove her guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt, certainly she would try to find it and destroy it, Emily thought. At least, that was the plan.

“You’re being so secretive, Emily. I don’t understand why you don’t just tell me what it is.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Emily smiled as she looked Delia in the eye. She stood to leave. “I have to get going,” she said, taking a cookie on her way to the door. “I’ve got things to do.”