“Julie?” Peter questioned loudly over the volume in the café.
“Yes. Peter?”
He nodded and rose to his feet. “Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand and she shook it.
At least she got the brown pixie hair right.
“Have a seat.” Peter gestured toward the other curved-back wooden chair at his small, round table.
She pulled it out and scooted onto it, setting her large black purse on the floor.
Peter looked down as if he was scribbling something in his notebook. “Just to get it straight for my report, you were ADA Allison Laraway’s assistant?” He sounded as if he was straining to speak up over the din.
“What?” Julie cupped a hand around her ear.
“ADA Laraway’s assistant?” Peter said a bit louder.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“How long had you been working for her?”
“How long?” She repeated, raising her voice. “How long what?”
Peter looked frustrated. “Too noisy in here,” he said, “let’s go outside.”
“What?”
He stood, notebook and pen in hand, and pointed toward the door. “Outside?”
She nodded, grabbed her purse, and followed him out to the sidewalk.
Emily saw them coming and hopped back in her car a couple of parking spots down the street.
“Sorry, Miss Clark, but it’s difficult holding an interview when the parties can’t even hear each other.” He stood with his back to the storefront window and looked briefly over at Emily, parked at the curb, not far away. She had a good side view of both of them.
“It’s Mrs. Clark, and I didn’t expect it to be so busy today.” She looked back into the café through the expansive window. “Now, what were you asking me?”
“Mrs. Clark, how long you have been Ms. Laraway’s assistant?”
“About two months. I heard the one before me left in tears.”
“Was Allison hard to work for?”
“Well, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.” She glanced around and her voice lowered. “She was rather demanding.”
“And you’re the one who found her in her condo, right?”
“Yes. When she didn’t show up for work on Friday, and she wasn’t answering her cell, Mr. Shackleford, the District Attorney, sent me over to her house to see if she was all right.”
“You had a key to her condo?”
“Yes.”
“Why is that?”
“Once in awhile she accidentally left things at home that she needed for a court case. You see, she worked a lot at home in the evenings.”
“I understand.” Peter made another note. “Do you know if Ms. Laraway was seeing anyone, romantically?”
“Well, it wasn’t like we were friends, but I think she did have a man in her life.”
“Oh, really.” Peter poised his pen. “What can you tell me about him?”
“I believe his name was Colin.”
Emily’s heart jumped into her throat, waiting for Peter to ask the next question.
“But you don’t know for sure?”
“She kept things pretty private, but one day a few weeks ago, I had some papers I needed her to sign and I went to knock on her door. It was slightly ajar and I overheard her call the person on the other end of the line Colin.”
“Maybe it was a business call.”
“Well, I won’t repeat what she said—it was a bit dirty, if you get my drift—so I know it definitely wasn’t a business call.”
Peter took some more notes on his pad.
Emily popped a question into his ear. “Ask her if she had ever seen them together.”
“Mrs. Clark—”
“Please, call me Julie.”
“Okay, Julie, had you ever seen Allison with this man, Colin?”
“Well, Thursday, the day before I found her dead, he came to the office.”
“How do you know it was him?”
“I was just coming back from lunch and they came out of Allison’s office all smiles. She said good-bye to him, called him by name. After he was gone, I said something to her about what a handsome guy he was. She grinned and nodded at me and said he is that. Just like that—he is that.”
“And she called him Colin?”
“Yes, that’s how I knew he was the one she was doing her sexy talk with on the phone before.”
Peter pulled a photo of Colin out of his shirt pocket, and Emily cringed, knowing that this woman might ID Colin. Peter showed it to her. “Is this the guy?”
“Yes, that’s him. Handsome devil, isn’t he?” She paused. “I heard the news reports yesterday. They flashed his picture, saying he’s the guy the police arrested for killing her. You think he did it?”
“I can’t really say.” Peter tucked the photo back in his pocket.
Emily took a deep breath. The woman could have been mistaken and just seen Colin leaving from his meeting with Allison. It might not have been an intimate lunch, after all.
“Is there anything else you can remember that would add to my story?”
“Well, later that afternoon, Thursday I mean, a florist delivered a pot of flowers to the office for her. The card was addressed to Allison. She wasn’t in at the time, so I peeked to see who it was from.”
“What did it say?” Peter asked after Emily practically shouted the question into his ear.
“I don’t recall exactly, something mushy, but I do remember it was signed Colin. How could I forget that hunk. I tucked the card back in the envelope and put the pot of flowers on Ms. Laraway’s desk.”
Emily piped in again. “Does she remember which florist delivered them?”
“Julie, do you happen to remember which florist sent the flowers?”
“No, sorry. It wasn’t like I had to sign for them or anything. Just plop, there they were, and he was gone.”
“Thank you so much for your time.” Peter pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to her. “Please give me a call if there’s anything else you remember, anything at all that might add to my story. You’ve been a huge help.”
“You’re so welcome, Mr. McKenzie, but I thought our interview would be videotaped.”
He took a quick glance at Emily, appearing to be taken a little off guard. “Well, uh, yes, this is just a preliminary interview. When I get the story put together, I’ll need to get back with you to do that.”
“Good save,” Emily said into his earpiece.
“That’d be great. You have my number.” She smiled up at him before turning and making her way back into the café.
Peter made his way down the block to Emily’s car and climbed in. “Did you get what you wanted?” He pulled the earbud out and handed it to her.
She stuck it in a little case and started the engine. “Yes,” she grimaced, “plus a little more.”
~*~
Emily pulled out into traffic and they headed back to Paradise Valley.
“Where to now, boss?” Peter looked over at Emily as she drove.
“I can drop you off at my office to take that wire off and pick up your car, or you can come with me to the Hilton Hotel. I need to get some answers there.”
“What do you hope to find?”
“Thursday evening, around seven, Maggie and Camille said they saw what they thought were Colin and me in his Jeep, pulling into the parking lot of that hotel. Colin swears he was at home, and I know the blonde in the car wasn’t me.”
“So you want to try to see who it was, right?”
“Yes. Maybe it was Allison and the killer.”
“Sounds like a long shot, Emily. What are the chances this guy would be driving a red Jeep just like Colin’s?”
“Pretty slim, I know. But I need to find out the truth, one way or the other.”
“Do you think Colin could have been seeing Allison Laraway on the side, like the police claim?” Peter asked. “That perhaps Maggie did see Colin and Allison?”
�
��I don’t want to believe it.” With her whole heart, Emily wanted to believe in Colin’s innocence. It just wasn’t that easy. Things weren’t making sense.
“You need proof, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure if Maggie told you or not, but my late husband lied to me for years about who he was and the things he had done.”
He nodded that she had.
“I can’t go through that again, being blinded from reality by love. I’m not the totally trusting twenty-two-year-old that Evan married. I went into that relationship with blinders on. Don’t get me wrong, there are times that I wish I was still that girl.”
She had trusted Evan implicitly and she had loved and believed in him with every fiber of her being. It wasn’t until after his death that she learned who he really was. “I’m afraid, Peter, that this Emily Parker needs to know the truth.”
“Then let’s go get it.”
Emily swung her Volvo into the parking lot of the hotel and they quickly made their way inside. Her friend, Trudie, was the assistant manager and she hoped the woman would help her.
“Hello, Emily,” Trudie greeted from behind the check-in counter, donning her deep-green hotel jacket. “What are you up to today?”
“Hi, Trudie. This is my friend, Peter.”
“Peter.” Trudie flashed him a toothy smile. She had been recently divorced and apparently was now open for a new relationship. “Are you new in town?”
“Just visiting.”
Trudie’s gaze lingered on Peter for a moment before turning her attention to Emily. “I heard you’re engaged now, Emily. Congrats.”
“How’d you hear about it?”
“Small town, you know,” Trudie said to Emily, but her gaze remained focused on Peter.
Emily chose to ignore Trudie’s obvious interest in Peter, wondering why she hadn’t also heard of her fiancé’s arrest. Busy at work, she guessed. “I’m trying to find out if a certain man and woman were here in your hotel on Thursday night.”
“You think they booked a room?” Trudie asked, turning her attention to Emily.
“No. They were probably in the bar. I’d like to talk to the bartender that worked that night.”
“Last Thursday night?”
“That’s right.”
Trudie punched a few keys on her computer, bringing up the schedule. “Looks like Harry was on that night.”
“Only one bartender?”
“Yeah, Thursday nights are slow.”
“When will Harry be working next?”
“You’re in luck, he’s on tonight. He should be clocking in at four.”
Emily checked her watch. It was three twenty-five. “Would you mind doing me a huge favor and letting me get a peek at your security video for last Thursday night?”
Trudie grimaced. “Sorry, Emily, but you’ll need to talk to the security supervisor, and he’ll probably ask for a court order. If I snuck you in, I’d lose my job. Since I kicked that no-good husband of mine to the curb a few months ago, I’m on my own. I need this job.”
“I understand. I’ll have the attorney I’m working for get a court order. Then I’ll be back.”
“In the meantime,” Peter interjected, “we could go and wait for Harry in the bar.”
“Sure, go on in. I really am sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. “I’ll get a look at the video eventually.”
Emily said good-bye, and she and Peter ambled into the empty hotel bar. Happy hour didn’t start for another thirty minutes, so they chose a corner table and waited for Harry to arrive.
They passed the time talking about the case and Emily’s meeting with Colin in jail the previous day. Before long, Harry appeared behind the bar and began setting up for opening.
“Why don’t you let me handle this?” Peter suggested to Emily. “You’ve been through enough today. I’ll question him and let you know what he says.”
“I don’t need to be coddled, Peter. I’m not that fragile.”
“I know. I just meant that maybe the guy would be more forthcoming speaking man to man.”
“All right, but I want to know every word he says.”
Peter strode to the bar and pulled up a stool.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.
“All I need is information. I’m a good tipper.” Peter slid a twenty-dollar bill across the granite counter toward the man.
Harry grabbed the bill and stuck it in his pants pocket. “What do you need to know?”
“You were working here last Thursday night, correct?”
“Yeah…”
Peter pulled Colin’s photo out of his shirt pocket and laid it on the bar, facing the man. Was this guy in here Thursday night? Maybe with a pretty blonde.”
The bartender picked up the photo and studied it for a moment. “Maybe. There was a guy, he looked kind of like this man—could have been him. He was wearing a San Francisco Giants hat, but he and the lady were seated over there in the far corner. The lights were low, so it’s hard to tell for sure. She’s the one who came to the bar and placed their order.”
“Why is it you remember this guy?”
“It wasn’t that busy and I remember the hat. I used to live in the Bay Area, used to be a Giants fan.”
“Used to be?”
“Now the Seattle Mariners are my team.”
“Is there anything else you can remember about the two of them?” Peter asked, pushing another twenty across the bar.
“Oh, yeah, I do recall something else. She called him Colin. She said a Manhattan for me and a Tom Collins for Colin. Then she laughed. Get it—a Tom Collins for Colin?”
Chapter 10
Climbing the concrete steps of the courthouse on Monday, Emily couldn’t help but worry about Colin’s fate at the arraignment. Would the District Attorney attempt to block Colin’s release on bail? From all that she’d seen on the news, and the reports she’d heard, the man was planning to handle this case personally and vowed to send Colin straight to death row.
The massive glass doors whooshed open and she took her place in line at the security check. She glanced around to see if she spotted anyone she knew, expecting to find at least one of her friends—but no one. Were they already inside? Or was anyone but Alex coming at all?
Alex had sent her a text earlier. He had received a file that morning from the DA’s office and wanted to meet after the hearing to go over it.
Clearing the metal detector and hand-search of her purse, she gathered up her belongings and hurried to the courtroom, wanting to be seated before they brought Colin in—to make sure he saw her and to show her support. Worry and doubt had been her constant companions since she had last seen him, but that was nothing compared to what he was going through.
She tugged the heavy door open and scanned the gallery. Pleased to see Maggie and Peter seated on the far side of Alex on the second row, she moved quickly down the aisle. At least some of her friends showed up to support Colin.
“Good morning, Alex,” Emily greeted as she climbed over him. He was seated nearest to the aisle.
“Morning.” He closed a folder and stuck it in his briefcase.
Emily gingerly planted herself between Alex and Maggie, noticing that even though the court was between proceedings, the seats were filling up. “Hey, Maggs. It’s nice to see you both here.” She put an arm around Maggie and gave her a quick hug. “You, too, Peter.”
“Wouldn’t miss this for anything.” Peter had a micro-recorder in one hand, poised to take notes for his report.
Maggie lightly elbowed Peter in the ribs. “What he meant to say, Em, is that we’re here to support you and Colin.”
“Where’s everyone else?” Emily shifted in her seat and glanced back at the door.
“They said they’re comin’.” Maggie patted Emily’s leg. “Don’t worry, it’s still early.”
“You’re right.” Emily rolled her wrist to check her watch. “It’s o
nly ten fifty-six,” she said with a bit of sarcasm.
Alex pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket and looked down at it. “Isabel just texted me, she’s on her way.”
The door opened and Camille waltzed in, talking on her cell phone. “Sorry, I need to get off the phone,” they all heard her say as she clicked it off. “So sorry I’m late.” Sticking her phone in her purse, she scooted across the row, brushing knees and making apologies. She took a seat on the other side of her brother, Peter. She leaned forward and stuck out a fluttering hand toward Emily to get her attention. “I had to get Jonathan to the airport for another business trip. He sends his regards.”
The door pulled open again and chatter from the hallway spilled into the courtroom. Emily and her friends turned to see what the commotion was.
District Attorney Roy Shackleford entered, tall and well dressed, with a powerful and commanding presence. He moved down the aisle and laid his brown leather briefcase on the prosecution’s table.
Reporters filed in behind him and found their seats. Isabel ducked into the courtroom on their heels and took a seat behind Alex. She patted him on the shoulder, and then Emily.
A side door opened and a deputy marched Colin in, shackled and wearing orange.
“That’s my cue.” Alex rose to his feet, with his briefcase in hand, and moved to the defense table, meeting Colin there. He leaned in and whispered something into Colin’s ear. An encouraging word, Emily hoped.
“All rise,” the bailiff called out. “The Honorable George W Prentiss presiding.”
The gray-haired judge strode to the bench, in his flowing black robe, and sat down. “You may take your seats.” The courtroom fell silent as the judge looked through the papers on his desk.
Alex stood again and motioned for Colin to stand as well.
“Let’s see, you must be Colin Andrews.” The judge stuck his black-framed glasses on his face as he looked from the docket to the accused and back down to his desk. “Oh, it says you were arrested for the murder of Assistant District Attorney Allison Laraway. Is that right?”
The Pursuit of Lies, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Book #4, Paradise Valley Mysteries) Page 7