The Scent of Lies: A Paradise Valley Mystery (5 page)

“Well, I certainly never knew,” Isabel said, glancing at Alex.

“Me, either,” Alex added with a shrug.

“I brought some of those skills with me into real estate, digging around, questioning clients to help collect information and uncover their motivations. If I could see that the husband made the decisions I could target his needs, tell him about the two-car garage or the basement ready to be turned into his man-cave. Vice versa if it seemed like the wife wore the pants in the family.”

“Hmmm,” Isabel pursed her lips, “I never thought of it like that.”

“So, yes, you could say I have some experience. Certainly an aptitude,” Emily explained, “and I still have Evan’s surveillance equipment. I just need a quick primer on how to use it.”

“That would definitely help,” Isabel agreed.

“Oh, and this will be of interest to you, Isabel,” Emily declared. “The client also suspects that her husband may be embezzling money from her company.”

Isabel’s eyes lit up. That kind of investigation was right up her alley.

“I thought maybe you could help me with that?” Emily raised her eyebrows along with her shoulders to illustrate her plea for Isabel’s help.

“We can talk more about that once you decide if you’re going to go for it or not,” Isabel answered.

“I guess the real question is, do you want to become a private investigator?” Alex asked. “It’s a risky business. Not to mention a constant reminder.”

“No one knows that more than me, but I could certainly use the money.”

“Aside from the money, Emily, do you
want
to do it?” Alex pressed.

Emily paused and looked out the window, thinking about how she could help Delia find the truth, and in doing so perhaps find her own too. She slowly turned back to face her friends. “Yes, I do. I’m going to go for it.”

“All right, then.” Isabel lifted her glass of orange juice. “To a new life for Emily!”

“Here! Here!” Alex chimed in.

Emily laughed at the silliness of her often-serious friends. She raised her glass then too. Making the decision set something free inside of her. An excitement began to build and she felt giddy with the prospect of it.

Isabel set her glass down, clapped her hands together, and announced, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Speaking of all things new, Alex has a new friend.”

“Really?” Emily squirmed in her seat. What were her friends up to now?

“Alex met him at their weekly pick-up basketball game yesterday.” The oven timer sounded and Isabel rushed to turn the beeping off and take the frittata out. “Tell her, Alex,” she prodded her husband.

“What’s to tell? His name is Colin Andrews. He’s a pretty good basketball player. He’s young and tall, in good shape. That’s about it,” Alex remarked.

“And nice looking, from what I’ve heard,” Isabel said, setting the bubbling frittata down on the granite countertop.

“Where did you hear that?” Emily asked suspiciously.

“From Maggie. She saw him at the YMCA, where the guys play ball, after one of the aerobics classes she teaches. She and I were thinking he’d be perfect for you, Em.” Isabel was focused on Emily’s face, clearly looking for her reaction.

“Me? I’d think Maggie would want him for herself.” Emily frowned. So now her friends were conspiring to find her a man?

“I think she still has her hopes set on her handsome new client,” Isabel smiled mischievously as she cut the frittata into wedges. “Maggie seems to think he has money.”

“I keep telling all of you that I’m not ready for another man,” Emily reminded them. The heat began to rise in her face as she tried not to let her voice rise with it. “But you’re not listening.”

“I know, but we don’t agree.” Isabel brought the steaming frittata to the table and took her seat. She leaned over and patted Emily’s hand. “We love you, Emily. We only want you to be happy. We’re just trying to nudge you back out into the dating world.”

“Don’t count me in that group.” Alex raised his hands in surrender. “I have nothing to do with it.” He shook out the sports section then stuck his nose back in his newspaper.

“
Please.
Believe me when I say I’m not ready,” Emily repeated.

“But Em—” Isabel pressed.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’m just going to go home now.” Emily clenched her jaw as she struggled to hold back the anger that was bubbling just below the surface. Then she picked up her purse and started to walk out. She turned around to see Isabel and Alex speechless, their mouths gaping open, as she snatched a muffin out of the basket on the table. She walked out. There was another thing she had done twice in as many days.

* * *

Driving home, muttering to herself about her friends minding their own business, Emily’s cell phone began to ring. She looked down at it laying on the console and saw it was Isabel calling. She hit
Ignore
with her thumb and kept driving and grumbling.

Once home, she decided to clean house to work off her anger. Why wouldn’t they listen? She just was not ready to put Evan behind her and move on. She changed into an old t-shirt and shorts then began scrubbing, dusting and vacuuming anything that got in her way. Evan could always tell when something was bothering her—the house was spotless.

Her head finally clear again, she sat on the side of the gleaming claw-foot tub, exhausted yet relaxed. She could see directly into her closet. She twisted her lips to the side and nodded her head once, pondering if maybe she should tackle that next.

She trod into the middle of the closet, with her late husband’s clothes hanging on the bar before her, and she considered getting some boxes to store them away. Emily reached out and traced her finger along some of his folded sweaters and t-shirts which were stacked on the shelves, her heart ached at the thought of packing his things away, like she was closing the door on him. She just could not bring herself to do it even though she knew what her friends would say—you have to close one door to open another. She wasn’t prepared to do that yet.

Emily pulled one of Evan’s favorite t-shirts from the bottom of one of the stacks, deciding she would wear it after she showered. A
plunking
noise caused her gaze to follow the sound to the floor. A long, thin silver key lay at her feet. “What the...”

She bent down and picked it up. As the light from the ceiling fixture glinted off the key in her open palm, she wondered what it could be for and why her husband would have stuck it under his t-shirts. What was he hiding from her? Did it have anything to do with her missing diamond ring? This whole thing just kept getting more and more puzzling, and Emily got more and more determined to figure it out
.

She studied the key closely. It had the numbers 407 stamped on one side, but what was it for? What did it unlock?

A shot of adrenaline surged through her veins as the shrill ring of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. She assumed it was Isabel trying to apologize once more. Having worked out her aggressions on her kitchen and bathroom, she was ready to talk.

“Hello,” she answered cheerfully.

“Emily, this is Delia.”

“Delia, oh, hello.”

“Please forgive me. I know you said you’d call me in a couple of days, but I just couldn’t wait a minute longer to see if you’d made up your mind. As you’ll learn, patience is not my strong suit.”

“As a matter of fact, I was going to call you today because I have made up my mind.” She stared once more at the key in her hand. “My answer is yes.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’m thrilled to hear that. Can we meet today?”

“Sure. How about four o’clock at Moxie Java?”

“Yes, sounds good. See you then.”

Chapter 4

Emily met with Delia and they worked out a plan to keep tabs on her presumed-wayward husband. Delia agreed to let her know when Ricardo was leaving the office or the house and to give her all the information she required, along with full access to the company’s financials.

Isabel consented to helping Emily by scouring the company’s accounts for evidence of embezzlement, as well as tracking Ricardo’s money dealings, being careful not to jeopardize her own job at the FBI. The bureau was not building a case against Ricardo, not yet anyway, but Isabel had a narrow bit of leeway to check into suspicious activity.

Though Delia was anxious for Emily to get started, she explained that she would need a few days to tie up loose ends with her real estate business and prepare for diving into an investigation. She wanted to take Isabel and Alex up on their offer to help her brush up on using Evan’s surveillance equipment—tracking devices, hidden video cameras, listening bugs, and so on—that is, after she made up with them for storming out of their house.

Against Isabel’s advice, Emily decided that carrying her old gun and renewing her concealed weapon permit could wait awhile. Becoming proficient at using Evan’s equipment had to take precedence.

Delia telephoned Emily a few days later and summoned her to her office for an afternoon meeting. Emily eagerly informed her that she was ready to proceed and agreed to the meet.

“I can be there in an hour,” Emily agreed. “But before I come into your office, I have a tracking device I’d like to attach to Ricardo’s vehicle while I’m in the parking lot. Can you describe it for me?”

“Black BMW sedan, almost new.”

“License number?” Emily had her pen poised.

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s one of those vanity plates. It says top dog.”

“Got it,” Emily replied, pushing down a chuckle before hanging up.

She pulled into the Heaven Scent parking lot and spotted Ricardo’s black BMW near the main entrance. As she strolled casually by his car, she swiftly and discreetly reached down and stuck a magnetic tracking device just inside one of the wheel wells. From that device, she would be able to track his movements on her GPS monitor.

Emily entered the main lobby, gave her name to the receptionist, and told her she had an appointment with Ms. McCall. The receptionist made a phone call and a pretty, dark-haired young woman appeared.

“Hello.” The young woman extended her hand. “I’m Anna Petrova, Ms. McCall’s assistant. And you are Emily Parker?”

“Yes.” Emily admired Miss Petrova’s well-fitted black suit as it complimented her dark gray eyes. She felt a little underdressed in her tan slacks and white linen blouse.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to her office.”

Emily trailed behind the woman, down one hallway then another, to Delia’s office which was half enclosed with glass. Delia—meticulously dressed as usual—was standing behind her desk, on the telephone. Seeing them through the windows, she motioned for them to come in.

“Okay, Camille. That sounds fine. Just send the selections over to me, and I’ll check off the ones I want and get them right back to you.” Delia hung up the phone as she took her seat.

“That was my event planner, Camille Hawthorne. Ah, so many last minute details for the launch party this Friday. Anna, I see you’ve met my Realtor, Emily.”

“Yes, in the lobby.”

“Anna as been my executive assistant for about a year now,” Delia explained to Emily.

“Realtor? Are you planning to sell your home, Delia?” Anna asked, crossing her arms.

“No, just thinking about picking up some investment properties.”

“Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll get back to work,” Anna said to Delia. “It was nice to meet you, Emily.”

“Likewise,” Emily replied, taking a seat as she watched the young woman walk out and close the door.

“Your assistant looks a lot like you, Delia, like she could be your daughter.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She looked toward the door. “So, are you ready to get started?” Delia asked, bringing her focus back to Emily.

“Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

“Ricardo told me this morning he has a meeting tonight with some possible new distributors, but I doubt it,” Delia said.

“Why is that?”

“He’s used that excuse too often to be believable, but you’ll find out for sure, won’t you?”

“Of course. If you let me know when he leaves your house, I’ll follow him and see where he goes.”

“That’s what I had hoped,” Delia said with a grin.

“Is that all?”

“No, I also want you to come to the launch party this Friday. It’ll be a dressy affair, so you’ll need to wear a gown. I had this idea—I thought you could make contact with my husband, see how he responds.”

“You mean flirt?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Let’s see how easily he takes the bait. A test, you might say. He doesn’t know you, but even if he sees you here at the office, I’ll just tell him you’re looking for some rental properties for me.”

“I can do that.” Emily reluctantly agreed as she stood to leave. She hadn’t realized this job would entail making sexual advances to the subject of her investigation, but if flirting was the worst of it, she decided she could handle it. “Call me as soon as he leaves this evening, Delia, and I’ll let you know what I discover.”

* * *