“Anything out of the ordinary on this guy?”
“No criminal record except one ‘disturbing the peace’ charge a few years ago. Looks like he and his wife threw a big party that went late and got a bit out of control. Other than that, nothing.”
“To pull off a frame job like this, it wouldn’t take a history of crimes, just someone with the techno background and a lot of anger. Since his wife was sent to prison, he’s had a lot of time on his hands to plan out his revenge.”
“Assuming he’s our guy.”
“Well, yeah. There’s that. Maggie and I are going to pay a little visit to the Ha’Penny tonight and pry some answers out of this guy.”
“You and Maggie be careful. Phone me when you’re done.”
“Yes, Dad.” She smiled at his fatherly way. “I’d better get back upstairs. I’ll let Colin know you’ll be stopping by with the case list. And, please, Ernie, let Marlene know how much I appreciate her stepping in to take care of Colin. She’s an angel.”
“Will do.”
“Emily! Emily!”
She turned off her phone and stood, glancing around at the sound of her name, zipping her jacket shut against the chilly autumn breeze.
Maggie and Camille hurried from the parking lot toward Emily, dressed in dark warm-up suits and white sneakers.
“Hey, girls.” Emily gave each a quick hug. “Did you come from the gym?”
“One of Maggie’s aerobics classes at the Y,” Camille replied, her face still a bit flushed.
“How’s Colin doin’?”
“He’s pretty sore, but I’m sure he’d love to see you guys. Come with me.” Emily motioned toward the hospital entrance with one hand. “I was on my way back up anyway.”
The women entered the hospital and took an elevator up to the third floor. Camille had her hands wrapped protectively around a clear plastic box containing what looked to be a dozen of her decadent homemade double-chocolate cookies.
Emily eyed the container. “Mmm, those look delicious, Cam.”
“They’re for Colin. I thought they might cheer him up.”
Maggie held a big pot of blooming chrysanthemums. “That’s why I got these yellow mums, the color is so cheery. I know yellow mums mean secret admirer, but I just thought they were bright and sunny.”
“Flowers have meanings?” Emily’s head tilted questioningly.
“Most do, I think.”
“Hmm.” The wheels in Emily’s brain started to turn.
“You’ve got that look in your eyes, Em,” Camille said. “Spill it. What are you thinking?”
“What does a red cyclamen mean?”
“Oh, oh, I know that one.” Maggie’s brilliant blue eyes lit up. “It means good-bye.”
~*~
Emily returned to Colin’s room briefly, leaving her friends to entertain him while she got back to work. Part of her, the doting fiancée, wanted to sit by his side until he was well enough to check out, but the other part, the strong and determined private investigator in her, needed to solve the mystery and find the real killer.
She stopped by her favorite coffee place, Moxie Java, to pick up a coffee and a muffin.
“Good morning, Emily.” The friendly male barista greeted her. He was tall and good-looking with what appeared to be the beginning of a new beard trying to grow in.
“Morning, Andy. Hey, what happened to your beard?” She hadn’t been in for a couple of weeks, feeling almost guilty for frequenting the Starbucks closest to her house.
“My girlfriend wanted me to shave it, so I did.”
“Looks like you’re growing it back.”
“Yup. I missed it, especially with the cold weather coming.” He took her order and her debit card. “Your order will be up in a few minutes.” His gaze moved beyond her. “Next!”
She stepped to the side and the couple behind her pressed forward. Before long, Camille’s brother unexpectedly strolled in and got in line to place his order.
“Funny meeting you here,” she said.
Peter whirled around to the voice behind him. “Emily, what a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to run into you in this place.”
“Just stopped by for a quick pick-me-up before heading home to work on the case. You?”
“I’m killing time until Maggie and my sister get back from the hospital. We’re supposed to meet up for lunch. How’s Colin doing?”
“He’s in some pain, but I think by tomorrow he’ll be ready to check out.” She moved forward as Peter kept up with the line.
“If there’s anything you need me to do, to help you with the case, just ask.”
“After I go through that pile of evidence, I’ll give you a call. How long are you in town for?”
“My manager gave me a week to cover this story, but if you’re making headway, I could probably stretch it out.”
“Next!” The barista called out.
Peter stepped up to the counter and placed his order.
Emily rolled her wrist and read her watch. It was eleven thirty.
She and Peter moved to the side to wait.
“I want to help nail the SOB. It’ll be a big story,” he said.
“I hope the only reason you’re offering to help isn’t simply for the sake of the story, Peter.”
“Absolutely not. The way I see it, the story could help clear Colin’s name and restore his reputation.”
“Tall mocha cappuccino!” the barista hollered.
“That’s me,” Emily said, waving her hand at the man behind the counter before turning back to Peter. “I’ll give you a call if I need you.”
Chapter 15
One day into their four-week deadline to trial and Emily hoped she was making some headway. She drove home with the red cyclamen on her mind. Good-bye. Was it a coincidence or a message?
When she got to her house, she went through the folder of crime scene photos that sat on her kitchen table and pulled out the picture of the potted flowers. Muted sunlight from the cloudy day streamed in the window over the sink. She flipped on the ceiling light to get a better look at the photos.
The florist’s card was perched at the top of the clear plastic spike that jutted up from the flowers. She noticed a tiny, indiscernible icon in the top left-hand corner of the card, but couldn’t make it out. The short note was fairly illegible in the shot, but the name Colin was clearly shown. However, that was not his signature. Was it signed by Mr. X when he ordered the flowers? Or by the florist?
How would she know which flower shop they came from? There were several in Paradise Valley, but it could have come from Boise or any of the other surrounding communities. Mr. X could have even bought them in the floral department of a local grocery chain and delivered them himself. The list of possible providers was overwhelming. She decided to simplify the process by first narrowing it down. It was a long shot, but her best bet was to start with the handful of florists in Paradise Valley.
She wondered if she was she simply rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. What if she was wasting precious time? This pot of flowers could mean absolutely nothing, driving her to chase a rabbit down a hole to nowhere. But until she was certain who signed Colin’s name to that card, she couldn’t put it behind her. Maybe it meant nothing, but the message it sent—good-bye—had to count for something and her gut told her to pursue it. These cyclamen might hold some tiny clue that could unravel the whole set up.
Her laptop sat on the breakfast bar. She lifted the lid and turned it on before grabbing a strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator and a spoon from the drawer. Pushing the drawer shut with her hip, she stepped to her computer and slid up onto a barstool. After typing florists in Paradise Valley Idaho into Google.com, the search pulled up four shops.
Beginning with the one closest to her house, Emily scribbled down the names and addresses of the four places. First, she’d head to Hope Blooms—she liked the sound of that—then she’d work her way down the list.
Emily thought of Peter and his
offer to help. If the four florists turned up zilch, perhaps Peter would have time to run down a few more florists in the area. After giving him an hour or so to have lunch with Camille and Maggie, she’d call him to see. She needed to talk to Maggie anyway, about their meet up with Mr. McDonald at the Ha’Penny this evening.
~*~
Emily parked her white Volvo on Main Street and went inside the Hope Blooms florist shop. The tiny brass bells jingled as she pushed the front door open. The fragrance from all the colorful and exotic flowers filled the little shop and Emily couldn’t help but inhale deeply.
“Hello, can I help you?” the thirty-something man cheerfully asked from behind the crowded laminate counter.
Emily’s attention was briefly distracted by all the inviting sights and smells of the blossoms. She drew her focus back and directed it at the man. “Yes, I hope so.” She pulled the oversized photo out of a manila envelope and showed it to him. “Do you sell this type of plant?”
He took the picture from her and studied it for a second. “We have had these in the past, but we’re all out right now. Can I interest you in some begonias instead?”
“Actually, no. I’m trying to find out where these cyclamen were purchased and by whom. I’m investigating a crime and whoever purchased these flowers could be the man I’m looking for.”
“Sounds serious—I wish I could help you.”
“Does that look like your note cards?” she asked.
“Hard to say, but unless it’s one with a personalized logo, we all have access to the same cards.”
“Are you the only one who works here?”
“No, my wife and I own the shop, but she’s out of town for the next few days. Besides, I can’t imagine she would remember who purchased what, unless it was one of our regulars or the buyer paid by credit card and we had a record of it, but she takes care of all that. I can ask when she comes back.”
“Do you happen to have a security camera in this place?” Emily glanced around the ceiling corners.
“No, sorry.” He handed the photo back to her.
She wrote a name and phone number on the back of one of her business cards, and slid it across the counter. “I know it’s a long shot, but call me if you, or your wife, remember anything. And if you can’t reach me, call that number on the back and ask for Ernie. It’s important.”
~*~
Having no luck with any of the flower shops in town, she decided it was time to phone Peter as she headed back to the hospital to see Colin.
“Hello, Emily. Need me already?”
Emily explained about the florists she had visited, and why, and how she could use his help to canvass a few more.
“Seems like we’re searching for a needle in a haystack, Emily.”
“Just trying to be productive while we wait to find other leads. Besides, even if we can’t arrest the guy because he bought the flowers, at least if we find out who did, we’ll be pointed in the right direction. Maggie and I are meeting with our first prospect this evening.”
“Yeah, she told me. Mind if I tag along?”
“I don’t mind as long as you stay in the background, Peter. If the guy thinks either one of us is there with a date, it could squirrel the whole thing.”
“I’ll be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there.”
“It would sure help if we knew if this is the guy who purchased the flowers.”
“Maybe I can dig something up this afternoon.”
“Yes, hopefully. Say, is Maggie still with you?”
“Yes, she’s right here. Hold on.”
Emily could hear Peter in the background, informing Maggie that Emily was on the phone for her.
“Hey, Em. What’s up?”
“Just confirming we’re meeting at the Ha’Penny tonight at six.”
“It’s in my calendar.”
“Make sure you come dressed to kill.”
~*~
Emily swung by the hospital and breezed up to Colin’s room on the third floor. She knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Ernie was speaking with Colin and he looked up when she came in.
Colin smiled and put out his hand to her.
“How’s our boy doing?” Emily went to Colin’s side and took his hand. She bent down and kissed him gently on the lips.
“I think they must have upped his pain meds, ‘cause he seems to be feeling no pain.” Ernie laughed.
Colin grimaced at his friend. “Oh, don’t listen to him.”
Emily shook her head at the both of them. “How’s the list coming?”
“There are a few contenders we saw just taking a cursory look.” Colin shrugged. “It’s hard to say, though, they probably all want to kill me for putting them away.”
“Anyone who stands out?” Emily sat on the edge of the bed, near the foot, and set her large leather handbag beside her. “There must be someone.” She glanced from Colin to Ernie.
“Show her the list,” Colin said. “Ernie circled a few.”
“Just a few?”
Ernie cleared his throat as he handed her the printout. “I already researched some of the names on the list this morning, crossed out those still in prison, or dead.”
Emily’s gaze scanned the sheets that held the convicts’ names and the crimes for which they were convicted. “These three candidates, did you have to testify at their trials?”
“I did.” Colin nodded. “Two of them while I was a rookie detective. The last circled on the list,” his voice tightened, “was the man who shot Miranda.”
Emily’s stomach cramped a little at the mention of Miranda. She was Colin’s first fiancée, a fellow law enforcement officer killed in the line of duty several years before. Emily noticed Colin’s lips thin and his eyebrows wrinkle, and she wondered what he was feeling.
Could convict number three be the one seeking revenge for Colin putting him away? If anyone deserved to get payback in that scenario, it was Colin.
How could he be out already? It was only a few years ago. Early parole or he got off on a technicality perhaps.
Emily leaned forward on the bed and touched his hand. “You okay, Sweetheart?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Talking about it just took me back there for a minute.” He attempted to lace his fingers behind his head, but grimaced and rested them across his stomach instead. “What’s next?”
She brought them up to speed on her so-far-unsuccessful search for the mysterious florist and the plan to talk casually to the husband of Amanda McDonald that evening.
“You be careful—that guy was a nut job,” Colin warned.
“Don’t worry about me. Maggie and Peter are coming along, as well as my trusty handgun.” She pulled her purse up on her lap and patted it. “All I want to find out tonight is if this guy has an alibi for Thursday night or not. If he’s got a solid one, he’s not our guy and we can move on.”
“But if he is…” Ernie raised his eyebrows at them both.
“Then it’ll be our job to prove he did it,” Colin added. “He certainly has the computer skills.”
Emily nodded her agreement. “Then we’ll know who to focus on. I’ve been calling the mysterious murderer Mr. X—it’ll be nice to know his real name.”
“I’d like to know how Mr. X got your fingerprints and your DNA.” Ernie wagged his chunky pointer finger at Colin.
“And how he was able to plant them all over Allison’s condo, because you’ve never been there, right?” Emily stared into Colin’s eyes.
“No, Emily, I’ve never been there.” His arms came quickly from their resting place across his stomach and he awkwardly propped himself up on one elbow. “I thought we already went over that.”
“Just making sure.” She patted his leg. There was that freakin’ two percent rearing its suspicious head again.
“Somehow he must have gotten into my apartment or something.”
“It wouldn’t be that hard. You’re hardly
ever there,” Ernie said.
Emily checked her watch. “I’d better be going—it’s getting late. I need to get dolled up for my date tonight with Mr. McDonald.”
Chapter 16
Tuesday evening in the historic district of downtown Boise, Peter and Maggie met Emily outside the entrance of the Ha’Penny Tavern. Both women were decked out for a party—a hunting party.
Ernie had provided Emily a driver’s license photo of Clive McDonald so the girls could easily identify him and had warned Emily again to be on guard. Colin was so anxious to question the man himself that Ernie practically had to sit on him to keep him from climbing out of bed and throwing his clothes on to go with her.
“Here, Maggie.” Emily pulled the photocopy out of her purse. “This is the guy.”
Maggie studied his face.
“Remember the plan?”
“I remember.” Maggie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
“Peter, you hang back and try to blend in.”
“Got it, boss.” He grinned at Emily as he opened the heavy oak and glass door for the ladies. “I’ll count to a hundred before I come in.”
An Irish band was playing on stage and the music was blaring as the girls made their entrance. The tavern looked about half full, with many of the patrons clapping enthusiastically along with the raucous Celtic beat. The room was fairly well lit and small wooden tables with chairs dotted the central area of the pub. A long bar stretched down one end of the room and a separate poolroom was visible through a cutout in the wall.
“Let’s grab a table.” Emily said to Maggie as she scanned the room. “Pick one where we can watch for our friend.”
Maggie nodded and headed toward the tables at the back of the room with a clear sight of the bar. Emily trailed close behind.
“Good?” Maggie asked, adjusting her low-cut blouse.
“Fine,” Emily replied, not sure if she’d meant the table or her cleavage.
The two sat and slowly peered around the room, but there was no sign of Clive McDonald. Emily noticed Peter amble in and he took a table not far from them.
The Pursuit of Lies, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Book #4, Paradise Valley Mysteries) Page 11