“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 bulle
t 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.
Her eyes flew open and she flashed him a cold stare. Looks like we’re back to square one. Emily was not impressed with his condescending attitude.
“What’s that look for?” he asked with a frown, dropping back down on the couch.
“I can do this, Colin. I may not be as good at it as you, but I know I can do this job.”
“Aarrrrgh! You don’t get it. I’m not saying you can’t—I’m saying I don’t want to find you dead somewhere because some perp thought you were getting too close.” He looked down at his clenched fists. “I can’t go through that again.”
In that moment, Emily understood where his attitude was coming from—Miranda.
She leaned forward and covered his fists with her hands. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I should start carrying a gun.” She realized that maybe she needed to be able to protect herself from now on. “If someone thought they could scare me off this case, they don’t know me very well.” She felt his hands relax under hers.
“Just say the word, and I’ll take you to the shooting range to brush up on your skills.” His face softened a bit at her agreement to carry a gun again.
“You know, Isabel told me the same thing the other day.” Sticking her pointer finger out, Emily mimicked Isabel. “She said, ‘You need to carry a gun for your own good,’ while wagging her finger at me.”
“I agree with her.” He chuckled at Emily’s impersonation. Then he regained his serious tone and took both her hands in his. “You’ve got to know how to stay safe.”
“Isabel’s always packing. Did you know that?” She looked into his eyes.
“I assumed as much, in her line of work.”
“Don’t I need to renew my concealed weapon permit to carry that thing?” she questioned.
“Yeah, but you need to know how to handle a gun well first. Like I said, I’d be happy to take you to the range.”
Emily rose and walked over to the window again, peering out at her shattered car window. She turned to him, grinning. “So, do you have any free time this afternoon?”
“Absolutely. Then I can call you the gun-totin’, smokin’ hot lady PI.” He laughed.
“Oh, brother,” she muttered and shook her head.
* * *
They stopped at Smoky Mountain Pizza for a quick lunch before heading to the shooting range. Emily argued for the patio, saying she refused to be intimidated and Colin argued for a back booth inside the restaurant because the lunatic that shot at her could be anywhere. She pointed out that that meant the person could be inside, too. So, they compromised by sitting outside, but in a corner behind a big umbrella and a large potted plant.
Still, they had a good view of Main Street which had been decked out for spring with baskets of colorful flowers hanging out in front of the shops. A block away bloomed a huge show of red and yellow tulips setting off the Welcome to Paradise Valley sign.
Colin spent a couple of hours shooting with Emily, showing her some of his techniques. With Evan having also taught her well, she quickly regained her skills.
“I think I’m ready to get my concealed weapons permit next week,” Emily proclaimed. “What do you think?”
“The sooner the better,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear.
After the shooting session, Colin dropped her off at home. “Let me get a car to sit watch out front, Emily. Just to be safe.”
“Nonsense. Besides, the Chief is not going to go for it. He didn’t even want to spring for your ticket to New York, remember? He’s not going to authorize resources on a whim.”
“Well, you do have a point there. What if we just stay in tonight? I can bring some takeout and a bottle of wine?”
“Are you trying to get out of taking me on our date?” she teased. “Because you promised me another night of dinner and dancing.”
“Fine,” he caved in, “I’ll pick you up at seven, but you have to promise me, for tonight at least, you will keep the blinds closed and stay away from the windows.”
She agreed and when seven o’clock rolled around, there was Colin, standing on her front porch, ringing her doorbell. She hurried to the door, checked to make sure, and seeing it was him with a bouquet of colorful mixed flowers in hand, she swung it wide open.
“Hello, Emily. You look lovely.” She was wearing a floral pastel summer dress, standing in her bare feet. “These are for you.” He held the flowers out to her.
“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” she gushed, taking them and moving aside to let him in.
“You’re very welcome.” He stepped past her. “I just thought, after the traumatic afternoon you had...”
“That’s sweet, but I’m all right, Colin. Really. The shooting lesson helped me feel more confident and empowered, but, I do appreciate the thought—and the flowers are pretty. Let me put them in some water and we can go.”
“I was surprised at how well you did.” He followed her back to the kitchen.
“I have had practice before, it’s just been awhile.”
He helped her reach a crystal vase stored in an upper cabinet and she filled it with water then placed the bouquet inside, fanning out the flowers. She set the vase on the table, smiling up at him. “There.”
“Beautiful,” he responded, slipping his arms around her waist. He leaned down and kissed her sof
tly.
His kiss made her a little dizzy, and she rested her head against his chest. Her arms went around his torso and her hands slowly ran up his strong back, enjoying the sense of safety in his embrace.
“We should go, Emily. I made reservations.”
She kept her arms around him, not sure she was ready to let go of him just yet.
Colin took advantage of the continued closeness and kissed her temple. She lifted her head and he kissed her again, full on her mouth, this time with more depth and urgency.
Emily’s body was alive with sensations she hadn’t felt in a long time, not since Evan had touched her that way. The thought of her husband brought his face to her mind and she froze. A look of surprise swept over Colin’s eyes when she suddenly pulled away from his kiss.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I think we need to slow it down—we’re moving a little too fast. That’s all.”
“Too fast? I guess I misread your cues.”
“No,” she ran a hand through her tousled hair, “you didn’t misread anything. It’s just that, well...I just have some things I’m going through that you don’t know about.”
“Help me understand, then.”
“I’m having a little problem with trust issues at the moment is all.”
“You don’t trust me?” He looked confused.
“It’s not you, Colin. I’m just having an issue trusting men in general right now.” She dropped her hold and stepped back out of his. “I haven’t been with a man since my husband died.”
“I’ll take it slowly,” he said.
“And there are things I haven’t told you.”
“I don’t—”
“Emily!” A frantic shout came from the front of the house, interrupting their private moment. “Where are you, Em?”
Camille and Maggie ran into the kitchen. “Oh, my gosh, Emily! We just heard. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, stunned by their unexpected visit.
Camille and Maggie each hugged her effusively. “We just heard about the shooting. We were so afraid for you. Are you sure you’re all right?”
The Scent of Lies Page 18