The Scent of Lies

by Debra Burroughs

  “Is something burning?” he asked, sniffing the air.

  “What?” She thought for a second. “Oh, no! My rice!” She ran to the kitchen and Colin followed.

  “Shoot! My Mexican rice is burned. I’ll have to start all over.” She grabbed the pan and stuck it in the sink, running water over it.

  Colin looked at the table set with brightly-colored place settings. “Expecting company for dinner?”

  “Yes, the girls are coming over for our weekly potluck. They’ll be here any minute, so if you don’t mind...” She hoped he got the hint it was time for him to make his exit.

  “Maybe they will invite me to stay. I am a little hungry. What are they bringing?”

  Maybe they will invite you to stay? Is that a dig that I did not invite you?

  “We’re doing Mexican food tonight, but I’m sorry, you can’t stay. It’s just for the girls.”

  “But I like Mexican food,” he said playfully.

  “Don’t you have to get to Bar deNay’s for drinks with your friend, Allison?” She hoped he picked up on the sarcastic attitude in her words.

  “Yeah, about that.”

  Emily crossed her arms and looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “You got it all wrong, Emily. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “Really? You guys looked pretty cozy to me,” she said, getting a couple of glasses out of the cupboard and setting them on the table.

  “She asked me to meet her for drinks, but I didn’t say yes.”

  “Colin, I don’t have any hold on you.” She reached in the drawer for a large spoon, trying not to be drawn in by his sultry hazel eyes. “We’ve only been out on one date. If you want to go out with her, who am I to stop you?” Emily turned and lifted the lid to stir the simmering refried beans.

  He stepped behind her and laced his arms around her waist. “What if I want you to stop me?” He whispered in her ear then kissed her gently on the side of her neck, sending a tingle through her body. Her heart began to pound in her throat. She felt lightheaded and leaned into his embrace.

  Emily turned around, getting drawn into those sexy eyes that she had tried so hard to avoid. “What are you saying...exactly?” she murmured with hope on the tip of her tongue as she spoke.

  “That I want to take you out again. I want to be with you, to get to know you better.”

  “But what about—”

  His lips were pressed onto hers before she could finish her thought, and again that zing she felt on their first date curled her bare toes against the cool kitchen tile.

  “Hello?” Camille called out as she came through the front door. Maggie and Isabel called out, too, following close behind. “Emily?”

  She stepped into the living room. “Hey, girls!” They smiled in unison, their arms laden with their contributions to the Mexican feast. “Why don’t you bring your stuff into the kitchen? The refried beans are almost ready.”

  “What’s that smell? Is something burning?” Camille asked.

  “Sorry, I burned the rice,” Emily replied with a self-depreciating scowl.

  The women trailed behind her, back to the kitchen where Colin was standing, arms crossed, casually leaning his hip against the counter. “Hello, ladies,” he said with a big grin on his face.

  “Girls, I think you all know Colin,” Emily said. The three women looked at each other as if they knew something was up, they just didn’t know what. “He just dropped by to give me some information about Delia’s case. Isn’t that right?”

  “Uh, yeah, right.”

  “Are you joining us for dinner?” Camille cocked her head and grinned, raising an eyebrow in hope.

  “No, sadly, I was just leaving. But, I have to say, it does smell amazing.”

  “Do you like Mexican food, Detective?” Isabel asked. “We have plenty.” She, too, grinned mischievously.

  “Absolutely love it—but I understand this is a girls-only night. I don’t want to barge in.”

  “How about we make this fella a plate to take home?” Maggie suggested. “Em, you got any Tupperware or anythin’ we can send him home with?” She rummaged through Emily’s cupboard and fished out a sectioned plastic bowl and lid. Maggie filled the sections with refried beans and enchiladas.

  “That there should keep ya.” She handed the container to Colin, smiling sweetly. “A man’s gotta eat.”

  “Thank you, ladies.” He glanced over at Emily, smiled, and she returned it. The chemistry between them was palpable in the room and the girls all exchanged knowing glances.

  “I’d better be going.” he said.

  “Let me walk you out,” Emily offered, following close behind him.

  They reached the front door and Colin turned to her. “Thank you for the food, Emily.”

  A round of giggles issued from the kitchen. Emily assumed her friends were speculating about her and the sexy detective, and she knew she’d hear about it when she returned to the kitchen.

  “Don’t mind them, they’re just being silly. Girl talk, you know?”

  “I don’t mind.” He grinned. “Enjoy tonight with your girlfriends, but tomorrow night you’re all mine.” He leaned down and planted a warm, soft kiss on Emily’s lips, interrupted by the sound of more giggles from her friends sticking their heads out of the kitchen.

  “Good night, ladies.”

  Colin left, but the glow from the kiss remained. Emily reached up and absently stroked her finger across her lips. Then, snapping back to reality she turned to her friends, waving both hands at them. “All right, all right. Back to the kitchen.”

  Chapter 21

  “Okay, Em, dish!” Camille sounded eager to hear even the smallest tidbit of news about Emily and Colin’s budding romance. The other girls focused in on Emily’s next words, too.

  “Why, I don’t know what you mean,” Emily replied coyly, stringing them along. She casually poured ice water into the glasses on the table.

  “We saw him kiss you, Em,” Maggie said. “Somethin’ is definitely goin’ on between y’all.”

  “You have three eye witnesses to that fact,” Isabel added, “so you might as well come clean.”

  “Okay, okay, you got me.” She raised her hands in surrender. “We went out on a date a couple of nights ago, and it went pretty well.”

  “Pretty well? What the heck does that mean?” Maggie asked.

  “We talked and we kissed and—”

  “And what? You can’t leave out the best part, Emily Parker,” Camille pressed.

  “And then Colin got an important call from a detective in New York City, and we had to make plans to fly there to interrogate a critical suspect.”

  “Ugh!” The friends let out a collective groan.

  “You flew to New York City yesterday?” Camille questioned.

  “And you didn’t tell us?” Maggie asked.

  “I knew,” Isabel said, smugly, scooping food onto her plate. “Alex told me.”

  “That must have been a very short trip, Em,” Camille commented.

  “You’re sayin’ you and Colin flew all the way across the country yesterday, yet here y’all are tonight?”

  “Yes, it was a very quick trip. We took a flight back overnight and arrived in Boise early this morning. But enough about me, the food is getting cold. Let’s eat!”

  Throughout the course of the meal, they chatted and ate, commenting on each other’s dishes and catching up on what was happening in each other’s lives—spouses, jobs, children. Of course, they all wanted to know more from Emily about her blossoming relationship with Paradise Valley’s handsome new detective, but Emily didn’t want to jinx things with too much gossip.

  “Did you ever find out who the woman was in the photo you found, Emily?” Isabel asked, taking her last bite.

  “Woman?” Maggie asked. “What woman? What photo?”

  “Yeah, what are you talking about?” Camille chimed in.

  “You didn’t tell them?” Isabel asked. “I’m so sorry, I
thought they knew.”

  “Knew what?” Maggie insisted.

  Emily hadn’t intended to make her discovery known to all of them just yet. “I guess that’s what happens when I tell one of you something, you assume you all need to know.” She glared at Isabel.

  “What?” Isabel shrugged and lifted her palms to the sky. “I thought you would have told them by now.”

  Emily straightened in her chair and took a deep breath as Maggie and Camille leaned in, waiting for some salacious information to be shared. So she explained about finding the key to a safe deposit box among Evan’s things and going to the bank to see what was inside.

  “Numerous fake passports, money, Euros, and a mysterious photo,” Isabel interjected. Emily was grateful she left out the part about her finding a gun in the box, too.

  “Are you kidding? Oh, Emily.” Camille gasped, reaching out and putting her hand on Emily’s. “What does it all mean, hon?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m having Isabel look into Evan’s background, but she hasn’t come up with anything yet.”

  “Nothing except—”

  “Except what?” Emily demanded.

  “Except that he didn’t seem to exist before he met Emily,” Isabel finished.

  “How could that be?” Maggie asked, looking to Isabel, then to Emily who was staring blankly at Isabel. “What does this mean?”

  “Well...” Isabel seemed unable to find the right words.

  “It means he wasn’t who he said he was,” Emily blurted out, her eyes flooding with a sudden onslaught of tears. “It means our whole relationship was a lie.”

  “Now, Emily, let’s not jump to conclusions,” Isabel warned. “It doesn’t mean he didn’t love you. It just might mean he had a job he couldn’t tell you about.”

  “You mean like a spy?” Maggie guessed. “Or like he was workin’ for the CIA or somethin’?”

  “Or it could mean he was hiding from someone.” Emily was thinking of Richard Vale changing his name and hiding from the Russian gangster.

  “Why would he be hiding from someone?” Camille questioned.

  “Lots of reasons,” Isabel said. “In the FBI, we see people changing their names and hiding out for everything from trying to evade their taxes to lying low to escape a murder charge, and anything in between.”

  “Oh, Emily, what do you think it might be?” Maggie asked.

  “I have no idea,” she replied, shaking her head, using her napkin to blot the tears that ran down her cheek. “It makes me wonder, though, if it had something to do with why he was killed.”

  The four friends sat around the table speechless for a few moments, just thinking and looking at each other.

  “Well, that’s enough of that.” Emily stood up and cleared her throat. “Who wants dessert?”

  * * *

  Once the girls had gone home, Emily texted Alex that she wanted to talk to him in the morning. It was already late and she didn’t want to go into it with him now or she’d get her brain all riled up and never get to sleep.

  He texted her back to call him first thing in the morning. She was glad he didn’t press her. With so little sleep on the plane the night before, she was looking forward to getting her eight hours.

  She washed her face and slipped into her nightgown. As she crawled into bed, her phone vibrated on the night stand. Colin had sent her a text message saying he was looking forward to tomorrow night and that he would pick her up at seven. She smiled and drifted off to sleep thinking about him and their next date.

  Unfortunately, it would not be a restful slumber. Pleasant dreams about Colin, even sensual images, bled into memories of Evan—their first meeting at the café, their first date, and the night he asked her to marry him. She felt warm and deeply in love.

  Then as she tossed and turned restlessly, happy images morphed into murky visions. Evan with the woman in the photo, and then dark images swirled around as a hand was holding a gun. It was inching closer and closer to Evan. His back was turned and he looked like he was retrieving something from the file cabinet.

  “No!” dream Emily shouted, but Evan didn’t seem to hear her, he wouldn’t turn around. The gun fired, Evan’s body registered the impact, blood sprayed and he collapsed.

  “No!” she screamed again, but this time she heard herself and bolted upright in bed. She was drenched in sweat, her heart thudding in her chest, as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. When her tears were finally exhausted and the eerie sense of waking from a nightmare dissipated, Emily lay back down and drifted off to sleep.

  The jarring buzz of her alarm clock shocked her tired body awake and she had only a vague sense of the dream and having been awakened and brought to tears by it.

  Emily dragged herself out of bed and picked up her cell phone. As she re-read the text from Colin she touched her lips, thinking of his kiss goodnight and the rush of warmth she experienced at his touch. A silly grin spread across her face as she headed for the shower, happily anticipating their next date.

  Chapter 22

  Emily poured a bowl of cereal and milk, and then sat down at the kitchen table. She’d have to bring Alex up to speed on Anna’s latest claim about Delia. She stirred her cereal around mindlessly.

  What would Anna’s statement mean to her client? If she is telling the truth, would Delia own up to it? Not likely, Emily decided. It could send her to prison for the rest of her life. And what would it take to prove who Ricardo’s real killer was? Should she try to trip Delia up, catch her in a lie—or was there something she could do to tip Anna’s hand? It had to be one of these women that murdered Ricardo, but which one?

  I hope to God it’s not Delia. Emily suddenly lost her appetite, deciding she would pay a visit to Anna and get her statement. Then they’d have it on record how they found out, and Colin would be off the hook.

  She left her bowl of cereal in the sink and opted for a shower instead. As she stood under the warm stream of water, it soothed her nerves, leaving her mind free to entertain thoughts of Colin.

  After Emily was dressed and ready for the day, she phoned Alex, alluding to the fact that Anna had told Colin she knew for sure that Delia had overheard her and Ricardo arguing about their affair and the baby. In the interest of protecting Colin, she held back from coming right out and saying it though. She informed Alex she was on her way to find Anna and get her statement on record.

  Emily thought about how Colin had covered her back with Alex when she divulged information to him about the mysterious man from New York. Now it was her turn to cover his six, as he would say.

  “Can you tell Colin thanks for the heads up?”

  “Sure, next time I see him.”

  “That Colin Andrews, I have to say, he’s a stand-up guy, Em.”

  “What makes you say that, Alex?”

  “I don’t know. I liked him from the start—maybe because he told me he had once been a Marine and now he’s a policeman.”

  “A police detective,” she corrected.

  “Yes, you’re right. What I mean is it seems to me that type of guy, who has sworn to serve and protect, is all about truth and justice. I like that. Now, I’m not trying to push you toward him, but I think he’s a good guy. I know you two got off on the wrong foot, but you might want to cut him some slack.”

  “I see what you mean,” she replied, trying not to reveal that she had already come to that conclusion, but she was surprised that Isabel hadn’t told him. “Well, I’ll go track Anna Petrova down this morning and get back to you.”

  “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 clos
e 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.