“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 insi
de 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.”
* * *
Driving out of the parking lot, Emily received a call from Maggie.
“Em, is everythin’ okay? I haven’t heard from you since you ran out of the restaurant on Saturday?”
“Everything’s fine, Maggs. Why don’t you come over for an early dinner, say five o’clock, and I’ll fill you in on what’s going on.”
“Okay, I’m done with my last client. See you in a few.”
Emily stopped at Quik Wok, picked up some Chinese food and had it all placed on the table when Maggie arrived.
“Knock, knock,” Maggie sang out as she walked through the front door, looking like a Barbie doll in bright blue spandex.
“Hey, Maggie.” Emily gave her a quick hug. “The food’s ready.”
Maggie followed Emily to the kitchen.
“Grab a plate and dig in,” Emily said.
Maggie picked up a plate and spooned out a little Cashew Chicken and Chow Mein. “What happened to you on Saturday? It’s not like you to bolt without a word of explanation.”
“I am sorry for the way I left. All that talk about husbands and infidelity made me painfully uncomfortable. I had to get out of there.”
“That makes no sense at all, Emily. There’s gotta be more to it than that, hon. Spill.”
Emily recounted the story of finding the note with Delia’s name and phone number on it in one of Evan’s old sweatshirts right before she left home to meet them for lunch, and how she hadn’t been able to shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was having an affair with the woman. She explained that with all the talk about Abby finding out her husband had been cheating on her after she thought she had a perfect marriage, and then Camille wondering if her husband had ever cheated on her when he was out of town on business, it had made her so uncomfortable she just had to escape.
“Oh, Em. You can’t believe Evan would ever have cheated on you. He adored you.”
“I’m sure that’s what Abby’s friends told her too—before she found out the truth. So, I had to discover who Delia was.”
“Did you?” Maggie’s eyes were wide with obvious anticipation.
“Yes,” Emily replied, grabbing an egg roll and wagging it at Maggie for emphasis, “and I called the number.”
“That took a lotta guts.”
“Turns out she was a client.” Emily took a bite of the egg roll.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“As a matter of fact, she asked me to take over the case and finish the investigation Evan started.”
“You? You’re a Realtor.”
“I know. I had this same conversation with Isabel.”
“Isabel knows? And no one bothered to tell me? Does Camille know, too?”
“No, not yet.” Emily scooped some Chow Mein onto her plate.
“Are you able to tell me what the case is?”
“Just that she thinks her husband is cheating on her.”
“Oh, crap! What is wrong with these men?” Maggie hollered.
“I’m going to be following him tonight to see where he goes. The wife said she’d call me as soon as he leaves the house.”
“Can I tag along? I’ve never been on a stakeout before. Please,” Maggie pleaded, flashing Emily her big blue puppy dog eyes.
Emily didn’t see why not. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have some company. Sure.”
* * *
Delia phoned Emily from her patio at about six o’clock. Ricardo had told her his appointment was at seven, so she assumed he’d be leaving by a quarter ‘til.
Emily and Maggie drove over to Delia’s and parked down the block, facing the direction he would drive out. Emily turned on her GPS monitor and they watched for his car.
One of Evan’s first rules was to be inconspicuous, so Emily handed Maggie a dark ball cap and asked her to stick her blonde hair up in it as she pulled the hood up on her own sweatshirt.
“Oh my gosh, Em. Maybe next time we should bring some wigs and sunglasses,” Maggie joked.
“I know you’re kidding, Maggs, but that might not be a bad idea.”
The black sedan caught their attention as it pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street. Emily gave him a good lead then she pulled out to follow. She kept an eye on the GPS monitor propped up on the console. The women followed at a safe distance for about twenty minutes as he led them into downtown Boise.
Then he pulled into the parking lot of a new eight-story condo building. Emily parked across the street with a clear view of the entrance to the building. She readied her camera with the telephoto lens, making sure the time and date stamp was turne
d on.
Ricardo stretched out of his luxury car and sauntered to the building’s entrance, glancing around suspiciously before he pushed the speaker button. He leaned in as if speaking to someone and he was buzzed in.
Emily snapped a few shots, managing to capture his face as he turned their way.
“I know that guy.” Maggie exclaimed.
“You do?”
“That’s the client I was tellin’ y’all about. You know—the tall, dark, and handsome one. Of course, he’s married.” She slapped the dashboard with the palm of her hand. “His name is Ricardo Vega, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Emily confirmed.
“Figures,” she replied, pursing her lips.
Emily hoped she could snap a shot of him coming out of the building with a woman, but after two hours he came out alone. She shot a picture of him exiting the building with the time stamped on it, showing how long he had been in there, but for all she knew he could have been meeting with someone about business. He got in his BMW and they followed him uneventfully back home.
“The night was a total bust,” Emily complained to Maggie when they reached Emily’s house.
Maggie got out of the car and headed for her own. “Maybe next time,” she encouraged. “At least I learned who Ricardo really is and I can stop moonin’ over him like a silly school girl. See. Not a total bust.” She grinned and waved good-bye. “See ya later, Em.”
* * *
Emily had gone inside and hopped on the Internet. As a real estate agent, through the multiple listing service, she had access to county records for all the owners of properties in their area. She had scanned the names of the owners in that condo building, but none of them stood out to her. They were all names of couples and single men. The county records showed the owners, but she assumed some of those units were probably rented out and she needed to get a look at that list.
So, early the next morning, she had driven over to see the manager of the condo building. Emily had done her best to sweet talk, cajole, and outright beg the stodgy old guy for the list, but to no avail. He would not give up the names of the people living in his building. She would have to find another way to get them.
The Scent of Lies Page 4