The Heart of Lies (24 page)

Especially not you.
“No one.”

“You’d never agree to that if he’d confessed to murdering Lucas, so I know it can’t be that.”

“You’re right. He is still a suspect, though, at least in my book. He had motive and maybe opportunity. Ernie headed over to his house to search for the murder weapon after he left Maggie’s. I wonder what he found.”

“Don’t change the subject. What is the secret then?” he insisted, his eyes narrowing and his brows knitting together.

“I told you, I can’t say.” She stood and collected the wine and the glasses. “Don’t be mad,” she said as she walked out of the room.

Colin followed close behind her to the kitchen. “Does it have anything to do with the person that’s following us?”

“No,” she replied flatly.

“What am I supposed to think?”

“If someone told you something in confidence,” she set the wine and goblets on the counter, “I wouldn’t expect you to tell me, unless it directly affected me.”

He planted his hands at his waist and stared at her. “You’re saying it’s none of my business and I should stay out of it?”

She rested her hips against the cabinet and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m saying Sully told me something in confidence and it doesn’t concern you. I agreed to keep his secret for Maggie’s sake, nothing more.”

She pushed away from the cabinet and stood in front of Colin, looking up into his eyes as she ran her hands up his chest. “Please, just trust me on this.”

“For Maggie’s sake, huh?”

She nodded.

He raked a hand through his hair and peered down at her. He appeared to be studying her lips, then her eyes. He pushed a wayward strand of loosely curled hair back from her face and slowly traced her cheek with his finger.

“Emily, you have me under your spell,” he uttered, as he wove his fingers into her tousled curls. He brought her mouth to his and kissed her as she’d envisioned when they were dancing—deeply and thoroughly.

Her arms slid around his waist and up his back, and she held on as she melted at his touch.

I guess this is turning into a romantic evening after all.

~*~

The next morning, Emily awoke to rain slapping against her bedroom window. She ran a finger over her lips, tracing their outline, remembering the sensation of Colin’s passionate kisses and she felt a wave of gentle heat ripple over her body.

Relieved to have staved off Colin’s curiosity about Sully’s secret, she reclined in bed wondering what else Sully was hiding. Had he been the one to kill Lucas? He certainly had motive—between Lucas stealing the money and using Maggie the way he did. And he may have had the opportunity to double back to the office after Josh left, before Mrs. Wakefield showed up. Except that Josh had said Fiona was there after him. The only thing completely clearing Sully of Lucas’s murder, in her mind, would be finding the crystal paperweight in some else’s possession.

As for Josh, she’d had her doubts, but it appeared more and more that he was telling the truth. If Lucas was alive after Josh left, and if Josh didn’t know anything about the paperweight, then, with Fiona coming in after him, he could be innocent.

She flipped the covers back and slid out of bed. Heading for the shower, she wondered if there was any news from Ernie on his searches of Sully’s and Fiona’s homes. She hoped Sully was in the clear, but as for Fiona, her suspicions of that conniving woman were growing. She didn’t show up on the security camera, so she must have gone out the back way.

She could have killed him and thrown the heavy paperweight in the river that runs behind the office building
.
If that was the case, they may never find the murder weapon.

As she stood under the warm cascading water, she ran through the facts in her mind, searching for something she was missing.

When she turned off the water, she heard a noise, like a door closing in the distance. She threw a bath towel around her body and ran to her nightstand for her gun.

With her firearm ready, she crept through the house, searching for anyone who may have gotten in. She made her way to the back door, from where the sound seemed to emanate, and found it unlocked. She stepped onto the deck and peered over the crest of the back fence, noticing a sliver of the top of a black sedan speeding away down the alley.

What are they looking for? They already took the photo.
Then the thought hit her.
The gun. Someone wants Evan’s hidden gun. Could it be Jethro? Or someone he told?

“Good morning, Emily.” Her elderly neighbor greeted her over the fence from his covered deck, raising his coffee mug in Emily’s direction.

Startled, she realized she was standing on her raised deck in only a towel with dripping wet hair—holding a gun.

“Good morning. Beautiful day,” she replied, spinning around and darting back into her house.
Beautiful day?
She shook her head.
It had been raining outside.

After making sure her doors were securely locked, Emily headed back to her bathroom to finish getting ready. As she grabbed a black, button-front blouse and gray slacks out of her closet, she noticed her everyday leather handbag sitting on the floor. Retrieving her wallet, she checked the coin purse for the bronze key she had been trying to match.

She held the puzzling key in her open palm and wondered what part it played in Evan’s mystery. What other secrets would this key unlock?

Emily finished getting dressed, poured herself a bowl of cereal and climbed on a stool at the breakfast bar. She dialed Colin’s number on her cell phone.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Morning, babe. I wasn’t sure you’d be up yet.”

Hearing his voice calmed her nerves, but she wasn’t sure she should tell him about someone being in her house again. He would worry, want to rush over—probably try to convince her to stay with Isabel for awhile.

“I’m awake, but still in bed, just dreaming about you,” he said in a deeply seductive tenor. “Did you call just to hear the sound of my voice?”

“No. I mean, I do enjoy the sound of your voice, but I had another reason. I wondered if you’d heard from Ernie yet about his search of Sully’s and Fiona’s places. I’d call him myself, but I think he’d be more forthcoming with you.”

“That’s true. I’ll throw some clothes on and go talk to him. You want me to swing by and pick you up?”

“No, he’ll probably tell you more if I’m not there.” She had other plans for the morning that she was not ready to share with him. “I’d love to hear what you find out, though.”

“Will do.”

“Colin?”

“Yes.”

“I had an amazing time last night,” she said.

“Me too. Makes it hard for a guy to leave.”

“That’s nice to hear.” She wasn’t sure if he meant leaving last night or leaving to return to San Francisco. Either way, she was glad to hear the words.

~*~

She decided to drive down to the bank again and revisit the safe deposit box. With someone lurking around her, she wanted to make sure the gun was safely hidden away.

Standing before the metal box the bank manager had set in the middle of the table, she waited for the man to leave before opening it. Then, lifting the lid, the fluorescent light glinted off the steel of the gun and her stomach lurched.
Could Evan have used this gun to murder someone?

Emily rifled through the rest of the contents—the three passports, the Euros, the wads of cash—trying to get a handle on what any of it could mean. Picking up the rolls of bills, secured by fat rubber bands, she speculated about how much money might actually be there.

She glanced toward the door to make certain no one was approaching. Pulling the band off the first bundle of money, she began counting the bills, mostly hundreds. Soon she grabbed the second bundle and then the third, becoming more excited with each. Unrolling the fourth one, she found a note, folded several times into a square small enough to hide in the middle of the bundle.

She unfolded the note carefully and started to read the handwritten message—it was definitely Evan’s erratic scrawl. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought she might pass out, so she pulled out a chair and sank down onto it to finish reading.

Dearest Emily,

If you’ve found this note, it means I’m dead. I hope you’ll forgive me for keeping things from you. You may have figured out Evan Parker was not my real name. My name is David Gerard. Again, I’m sorry.

The gun belongs to someone who tried to kill me once, after moving to Paradise Valley. I wrestled it away from him before he got away, but I don’t know who it was. He must have succeeded on a second attempt or you wouldn’t be reading this note. I hid the gun because I had hoped to track him by it. (Sorry I never told you, I didn’t want to worry you.)

The woman in the photo was a girlfriend when I worked for the Agency. Her name was Natalia Banderas. She was a natural history student at the Sorbonne that I met at a café in Paris. She was killed in France when a case I was working on went south and she was caught in the crossfire.

I blame myself for her death. I should have known better than to get involved with a civilian. That’s why I left the Agency when I fell for you, Emily.

I figure the gun could belong to someone seeking revenge for her death or it could be related to another case—it’s hard to say. I don’t know how they found me, but if you’re reading this note, it means they did.

Keep these things hidden.
 

Trust no one.

I love you, Emily.

– Evan (aka David Gerard)

She dropped the letter on the table and covered her face with her hands. Tears trickled through her fingers and spilled onto the paper, as the enormity of Evan’s words sunk in.
David’s words.

He said he was responsible for the death of the woman in the photo. Someone killed him, likely in retaliation. Trust no one. He loved her. David Gerard.

Time came back into focus and she realized she had been there too long. Piles of cash were spread out on the table and she hadn’t finished counting it. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her hands flew over the table as she scrambled to gather the bills together and haphazardly rubber-band them once more, shoving them back in the metal box. She hastily refolded the note a few times and tucked it in her purse, sniffed a few quick breaths and shut the lid on the box.

“Are you almost finished in here, Mrs. Parker?” The bank manager stuck his head just inside the doorway. “I have another customer waiting.”

“Yes. Thank you.” She shoved the safe deposit box in its place in the wall of steel, closing the door securely. “All done.”

CHAPTER 24

On the drive home, Evan’s words continued to replay in Emily’s mind—trust no one.

Trust no one?

What about the girls? Especially Isabel. Was he saying they shouldn’t be trusted? Had Isabel only been pretending to be Emily’s friend all these years to gain her confidence, or to gather information? Was she working with Jethro to try to get Emily to give up the gun? Isabel’s family was back east—or so she said. Emily had never met any of them. Did Isabel marry Alex when she moved here to maintain her cover?

Emily shook her head. “Now I’m just sounding paranoid.”

But she couldn’t stop. Emily was on a roll.

Had Colin’s new job as Paradise Valley’s police detective been arranged? Normally a police department would promote from within, but in Colin’s case they put him at the head of the line and hired an outsider. Did he come to Paradise Valley to insinuate himself into her life—with Isabel’s help—as part of the plan? After all, Isabel was the one who introduced them. Was he just trying to get close to her to get information on her late husband? Or did he truly care for her?

How much did she really know about Colin, anyway? She’d never met his parents. Had he actually gone back to San Francisco to help his mother care for his ailing father? Or was that all a lie? Was he ever even
from
San Francisco? He could be from Timbuktu for all she knew.

Emily was relatively certain she could trust Camille and Maggie. Camille had grown up in the area, as did her husband, and their now-teenage children were born in Paradise Valley. Maggie had brought Josh to Paradise Valley when he was four because her brother, Sully, and his family already lived here.

Camille and Maggie were long-time residents with deep roots in this community, but how would she know for sure if she could trust Isabel or Colin, after what Evan said in his letter.
Trust no one.

A sick feeling curled in her stomach as she drove, and she suspected she might have to pull over and give up her breakfast.

~*~

“So what is your timeline, Ernie?” Colin asked, sitting on the edge of the detective’s desk, his eyes fixed on the enormous whiteboard that took up most of one wall of Ernie’s office. “Walk me through it.”