The Scent of Lies: A Paradise Valley Mystery (24 page)

“Thanks, Em.”

* * *

Emily arrived at Heaven Scent and went directly to Anna’s desk, waving as she bypassed the receptionist. She found Anna intently studying something on her computer, unaware of Emily as she walked up.

“Good morning, Anna,” she greeted.

“Oh, hello,” she responded, looking up abruptly from her screen. “Sorry, I didn’t see you standing there.” Anna quickly moved her mouse and clicked to close the screen.

Emily wondered what she was hiding.

“Delia isn’t in today—”

“As a matter of fact, you’re the one I want to talk to.”

“Really?”

“Is there somewhere we can go and talk that’s a little more, you know,” Emily glanced around, “private?”

“Sure. We can go in Delia’s office.” Anna rose from her desk and Emily followed her in.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Anna asked, once they were seated in the client chairs across from Delia’s desk.

“You know I’m working for Delia and her attorney on the Ricardo Vega murder.”

“Yes. I thought you were Delia’s real estate agent, but then I learned you’re actually a private investigator. So I guess the real estate thing was just a lie?”

“No, I used to be a real estate agent. But, let’s not talk about me, let’s talk about you.”

“What do you mean?” Anna squirmed in her chair, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

“I want to ask you some questions about the night of the murder.”

“Okay.” Anna’s eyes searched for somewhere to focus, refusing to meet Emily’s intense gaze.

“I wondered if you could walk me through what happened at Delia and Ricardo’s house.”

“But, I’ve already given my statement to the police.”

“I know, but I don’t work for the police. I work for Delia.”

“And you want me to help you clear her? You’ve got to be kidding.” Anna crossed her arms.

“Sounds like you believe she did it.”

“Of course she did it.”

“Why do you think that?” Emily had her pen poised.

“Because that night she found out Ricardo and I were seeing each other and that I’m pregnant with his child.”

“You say that so matter-of-factly.” Emily wondered why she would just blurt that out without any sense of shame.

“I might as well. It seems everyone already knows anyway.”

“But how do you know for certain that Delia found out about you on the night Ricardo was killed?” Emily needed Anna to say what Colin had relayed to her.

“Because when Ricardo and I were arguing, we heard Delia call out from upstairs. She said, ‘Ricardo, who’s down there with you?’ or something like that.”

Emily wrote the quote down as fast as she could. “But that doesn’t prove that she overheard your argument.”

“I’m sure of it,” Anna said defiantly.

“You can’t be sure of that unless you saw her standing there listening to you.”

“Delia had to have heard Ricardo and I arguing. She was standing at the top of the stairs, and we were pretty loud. Even the maid heard us from wherever she was,” Anna said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because she stuck her head around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.”

“How do you know she was the maid?”

“Because when I asked Ricardo who she was, he told me not to worry about her, she was nobody, just the help.”

Emily continued to write furiously.

“He told me I needed to get out of there, and he walked me to the door. I’m sure Delia must have seen me from the top of the stairs. Then Ricardo watched me get in my car and I waved good-bye to him. That was the last time I saw him,” Anna said, tears filling her eyes. “Within minutes he was dead. How could it not have been Delia?”

“Well, no one actually saw Delia stab Ricardo.”

“I don’t care. I know she did it,” Anna repeated, wiping away the tears on her cheeks.

“So, tell me, where did you go when you drove away?”

“Are you asking if I snuck back in and killed the man I loved, the man who was going to take care of me and my baby?” Her voice started to rise.

Emily had apparently struck a nerve. “Why do you ask that?” Emily wondered how she knew about that theory.

“Because that’s what the police detective asked me.”

Emily had to make sure no one thought she and Colin were working the case together, so she threw Anna a curve ball to change the subject. “Is there anyone else that knew you were pregnant?”

“No.”

“None of your family or friends, say an uncle or something?” Emily hinted at Harry Andropov then watched Anna’s face for a reaction.

For a micro-second, she thought she saw a flinch, but then Anna’s face went steely. “No, no one.” She took a long breath and stood. “I have to go back to work.”

Emily left the office and drove out of the parking lot. It was time to go have a little talk with Delia.

* * *

On the way over to Delia’s house, Emily called Alex and filled him in on her conversation with Anna. Alex’s reaction showed his distress over hearing that Anna confirmed her statement that Delia overheard her argument with Ricardo. He hadn’t said it, but Emily knew he’d be thinking it—if Delia was lying to them, there was no way they could keep defending her.

By the time Emily reached Delia’s front door, she was fuming. She felt that maybe she’d been taken advantage of, betrayed—and she’d had enough of that, thinking about Evan and his secret identity. So, rather than politely ringing the doorbell, she pounded hard on the front door.

“What on earth?” Delia swung the door open, taken aback by Emily’s action as she breezed past Delia and went directly into the living room.

“I want some answers,” Emily demanded.

“What is this about?”

“Anna told me she’s certain you overheard her and Ricardo arguing about his leaving you and about her pregnancy. She said she even told Detective Andrews as much.”

“She’s a liar! I never heard their argument. I didn’t even know she had been in the house until I learned that Marcela had told the police a woman was here that she didn’t recognize. Why that little slut!”

“Look me in the eye, Delia. Tell me there is no truth in it.”

Delia stood face to face with Emily and stared into her eyes. “I swear. There is no truth in it.” Then she turned away. “I thought you were on my side, Emily. I thought you believed in my innocence.” Her voice quivered with emotion.

“I want to believe you, Delia, but if Anna is telling the police she heard you calling to your husband from the top of the staircase at that pivotal moment, the prosecutor will latch onto that like a pit bull with a bone, and she will not let it go.”

“What do mean exactly?” Delia whipped around, her eyes glistening.

“I mean she’ll do her best to make sure the jury believes it. And Marcela’s statement to the cops that Ricardo was still alive when Anna left only strengthens the allegations.”

“So what can we do?” she asked, worry lines forming creases between her brows.

“Flush out the real killer.”

Marcela appeared with a tray holding a fine China tea cup and saucer with a matching teapot. “Your tea, Miss Delia.”

“Just set it on the coffee table—please,” she instructed Marcela, pulling in a deep breath. She turned to Emily. “Would you like some tea?”

“No thanks, I can’t stay. I just wanted to get things straight about Anna.” Emily moved to the foyer and Delia followed behind her.

Marcela quietly held the door open to let her out.

“I’ll be in touch.” Emily stepped onto the porch and left.

Chapter 23

“Hello,” she answered her phone brightly when she glanced at the Caller ID.

“Hey, Emily. I thought I’d call and see how your evening with the girls went.”

“Really? You want to know about the girls?”

“Well, no. I just wanted an excuse to call,” he admitted.

“In that case, I’m glad you did.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m just pulling into my driveway. You want to stop by and have lunch with me?”

“Okay. I could handle that.”

She stepped out of the car, awkwardly trying to juggle the phone, her car keys, as well as her purse and her notepad, that was falling out of her bag. As the notepad hit the ground, Emily bent down to pick it up and her driver’s side window shattered just above her head. She dropped to the ground, instincts taking over.

She could hear Colin shouting from her phone which now lay a few feet away on the driveway. Other than that there were no more sounds, no more glass breaking or tires squealing, simply a few cars driving by at a normal speed. She reached out a shaky hand and grabbed her phone. “Colin, I think someone just shot at me.”

“I’m not far. Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Emily could hear his siren start to wail through the phone and his voice talking on the radio to central dispatch. She eased her head up and cautiously looked around. Seeing no movement, she quickly gathered up her things and ran to the house. She fumbled nervously with the key, a torrent of adrenaline flooding her veins, her heart pounding a rhythm in her chest.

Once inside, Emily pressed her back against the closed door and slid down until she was seated on the floor. Her hand fluttered up to her chest and she held it there as if willing it to slow down. She shook her head and little pebbles of glass fell to the floor. “Oh my God,” she murmured as she picked up one of the little pebbles and stared at it in disbelief.

Sirens rang out and she heard tires squeal out front. Seconds later Colin arrived, pounding on the door. “Emily!”

She stood on quaking legs and flung the door open. In the next moment, her arms flew around Colin’s neck.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fear and tenderness in his voice as he held her close. Sirens from another police car came to a halt in front of the house.

“I’m okay,” she assured him.

She loosened her hold and he leaned back, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Really, I’m okay,” she repeated. “A little shell shocked maybe, but other than that—”

“Andrews!” a man called from the driveway.

“In here,” Colin answered, turning around to see his friend, and fellow officer, Ernie.

“I took a quick survey—looks like a bullet took the driver’s side window out, lodged in the dashboard. We’ll get forensics to check it out.” He took notice of Emily as he stepped all the way inside and he stood a little straighter. “Hello, ma’am. Officer Fitzpatrick.” He held out his hand.

She extended her own and shook his. “Yes, we’ve actually met before,” Emily remarked.

“We have?”

“At the Ricardo Vega murder scene.”

He squinted and looked closer at Emily. “Why yes, you’re right, ma’am,” he said, pulling on his belt and hiking up his pants. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Well, I was in my car, in the driveway, talking on the phone. Then I got out and dropped my notepad, so I bent down to pick it up. That’s when the window just exploded.”

“You’re very lucky, ma’am. If you hadn’t bent down at that exact moment, you would have been shot,” Ernie said.

Emily gasped, reality finally taking over from the initial shock.

“Can you think of anyone who would want you dead?”

Emily’s gaze flew to Colin’s as he stepped closer to her again and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take it from here, Ernie. Thanks for getting here so fast.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I can—”

“I can handle it, Ernie,” Colin restated. “Why don’t you and your partner canvas the neighborhood, see if anyone saw or heard anything.”

“No problem.” He turned and lumbered out, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Do you really think someone was trying to kill me?” Emily walked over to the window and peeked through the blinds to look at her damaged car. “Who would do that?”

“Maybe you’re getting too close to finding Ricardo’s killer?”

“Yeah, maybe, but I can’t stop now.”

“Do you carry a gun, Emily—for protection?”

“No. I used to.” She turned away from the window and sat down on the couch. She hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees, feeling small and helpless. “Evan always wanted me to, so I carried one for a while, to satisfy him.”

“Perhaps you should again.” He sat down next to her. “If you insist on pursuing this line of work, I can’t protect you.”

She sat up and leaned back against the cushions, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes.

“Even though I was only a few blocks away, if you hadn’t bent down unexpectedly, you might be dead right now.”

She heard the steely seriousness that colored his voice. If he had intended to scare her, he succeeded.

“Why don’t you drop this case and just let me do my job?” he demanded, shooting to his feet and throwing his hands up in the air.