The Pursuit of Lies, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Book #4, Paradise Valley Mysteries)

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The Pursuit of Lies, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Book #4, Paradise Valley Mysteries) Page 16

by Debra Burroughs


  As they drove to the beach, Colin pulled over and made a quick call to Ernie to let him know he was all right, that he and Emily wanted to get away for a long and relaxing drive through the Sawtooth Mountains, and that they may not be back until the next day.

  “Don’t worry about me, Ernie. Emily is taking good care of me. We just need some time away to think things through, figure out where to go next in the investigation. When we get back, we’ll hit the case hard again.”

  “I don’t understand, I thought you were hot to find the killer,” Ernie replied.

  “I am, but we can’t do much until we hear back from our friends in the SFPD. Trust me, Ernie, a day or so away from the case will do me good.”

  “But—”

  “Please, just trust me, Ernie.”

  With that done, Colin focused on the task before him. Having Kevin Bates now on his radar, it was a toss-up which one of these guys would move into prime-suspect position. Until he could personally interrogate Younger, he had to consider both men as Allison’s possible killer.

  As they drove across the city, Colin’s mind filled with questions about Bruce Younger. What could be so important that Younger would only speak with him and adamant it had to be in person? This whole clandestine road trip was at his insistence.

  It had better be worth it.

  Colin glanced over at Emily, who had been unusually quiet during the drive. “Are you okay over there, Babe?”

  Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her expression looked serious as she stared blankly ahead. “I’m fine.” She turned toward him, and he noticed her eyes were moist. “I was just thinking about your mom and dad. They’re such sweet people. This must be unspeakably difficult for them.”

  “I’m sure it is, especially on top of Dad’s heart attack. I don’t want to be the cause of him having another. Just one more reason to solve this case fast. The sooner we find the real killer the better.”

  “Yes,” she muttered, turning and looking out the passenger window, “the sooner the better.”

  Colin pulled the Honda into the parking lot abutting the beach, across from the historic Playland amusement park. He squeezed the car into a space, cordoned off from the sand by a row of old railroad ties.

  He slipped a pair of sunglasses on, as did Emily, hoping to give their identities additional protection. Climbing out of the vehicle, he scanned the beach for the park bench located farthest to the north.

  “Down that way,” he called to Emily as she exited the car, pointing to the right.

  He reached out for her hand as he came around the front of the car, grasping it and leading her to the appointed meeting spot. She took a seat on the bench and gazed out over the Pacific Ocean, gray as it reflected the dark cloud cover. Colin stood beside her and visually searched the area for the detective and Mr. Younger.

  He spotted two men approaching and recognized them as they came closer.

  “Andrews?” Detective Spencer asked as he came within a few feet. He threw his cigarette on the sand and twisted his shoe over it before stopping in front of the bench. He was about the same age as Colin, but the years had been harder on him. Straight black hair slicked back made his prominent nose even more so. He wore the typical sport coat and tie that had seen better days.

  Colin put out his hand and Charlie grabbed it and shook it.

  Emily rose from the bench, her blonde locks ruffling in the ocean breeze. She pulled her cropped leather jacket tighter around her chest and crossed her arms over it.

  “Charlie, this is Emily Parker.” Colin wanted to add that she was his fiancée, but thought it best to keep that information from Mr. Younger.

  Emily offered her hand, as well, and Charlie grasped it. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”

  “Colin tells me that you’re a private eye.” His eyes slowly roved from her face, down her long shapely legs covered by her fitted jeans, to the toes of her high-heeled black boots and back up again. “Not like any private eye I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’d better watch it,” Colin warned. “She’s not just a pretty face.”

  “Brains too?” Charlie asked.

  “And skills,” Colin said. “Emily can take down a man twice her size and outshoot most.”

  Emily gave Colin a half-smile, apparently appreciating his assessment of her.

  “Every man’s dream—a sexy woman with a gun.” Charlie snickered and turned his gaze to Colin. “And you remember our friend, Bruce Younger, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Have a seat, Bruce.” Colin motioned toward the bench.

  “I’d rather stand.” Bruce Younger didn’t look like your typical criminal, more like a college student. He appeared to be in his late twenties, clean-shaven, with his wavy chestnut hair cut in a modern shaggy style. His clothes were trendy but understated, layers of grays and black.

  “Let’s get to it then,” Detective Spencer said.

  “Bruce, I need to know your whereabouts on Thursday evening of last week,” Colin began, “between six p.m. and midnight.”

  “Spencer here asked me the same thing. He said you were investigating a murder up in Boise.”

  “That’s right. So where were you last Thursday night?”

  “You honestly think I had something to do with a murder in Idaho? That’s just crazy, man.”

  “I remember you screaming that you would ruin my life when I arrested you.”

  “Yeah, it was just talk. I was furious. I did a stupid thing and I paid for it. Now I just want to get my life back on track.”

  “Well, someone from my past committed this murder and he’s doing a very clever job of framing me for it. You have the skills to set me up, Bruce, and you threatened to do it. Why wouldn’t I think it could be you?”

  “Hey, I’m not a killer.” Both of his hands briefly flew up, as he took a step back. “If I wanted to get back at you, I’d steal your identity and ruin your credit. I’d Photoshop some nasty pics of you and post them on YouTube.”

  “You haven’t answered my question, Bruce, where were you last Thursday night?” Colin asked.

  “I was home with my girlfriend—in San Francisco.”

  “And of course she’ll corroborate your story.” Colin nodded, pursing his lips. “How convenient.”

  “Yes, of course she will. Why wouldn’t she? She was there. We had dinner, watched a movie—the latest Batman story—then we hit the sack for a little…you know. When she went off to sleep, I got up and finished some work on my computer. The emails are time stamped, some of them replying to incoming emails, that’ll prove where I was that night.”

  “Your girlfriend could have sent those emails,” Emily said.

  “No, they were work related. She wouldn’t have any idea what I was talking about in them.”

  “I may not be as tech-savvy as you, Bruce, but I know a laptop is portable and you could have sent those emails from anywhere,” Colin said.

  “I sent them from home—I swear. Like I said, I was there all night.”

  “If that’s the case, why couldn’t you tell Detective Spencer all that?” Colin asked. “Instead you drag me down here, insisting you would only talk to me and it had to be in person. What was so important that it had to be in person?”

  “When the detective here first contacted me, he told me about the murder and you being set up to take the fall for it. I figured you guys were probably suspecting me because of my awesome computer skills. Why else would Spencer be yanking my chain?”

  “Go on.” Colin crossed his arms, hoping to hear something that would justify the trip.

  “I thought it would be in my best interest if I could talk to you face to face. I have some information I’m sure you’ll be interested in, but I want something in return.”

  “What kind of information?” Charlie asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Not so fast, Detective Spencer.” Bruce turned back to Colin. “If I give this info to you, I want guarantees that time will be taken off my sentence for
helping you out.”

  “I don’t have any authority in California, you know that,” Colin said.

  “Perhaps your friend here,” Bruce briefly glanced over at Detective Spencer, “would be willing to put in a good word with the parole board on my behalf.”

  “You’re already out of prison, what more do you want?” Spencer asked.

  “I’d like to be free, to no longer have to check in with the man every other week, leave the state if I want. My girlfriend keeps begging me to take her to Cancun and Las Vegas, places like that, you know? I’ve got the dough—the business is taking off—but I can’t go. I’ve got to stay here.”

  “I can think of worse places to be shackled to than San Francisco,” the Detective said.

  “Do we have a deal?” Bruce asked, his glance bouncing between Colin and Charlie.

  Charlie looked at Colin, and Colin gave a nod.

  “Okay, let’s hear what you have to say,” Charlie said. “If it helps put away a killer, I’ll take it to the authorities. But it had better be good.”

  “Fair enough.” Bruce explained that there was a man he shared a cell with for a couple of years that talked about getting even with Detective Colin Andrews. He blamed Andrews for not arresting the person that killed his little girl. When he took matters into his own hands, Andrews arrested him and testified against him at his trial. Because he was sent to prison, his wife eventually went over the edge and committed suicide. His name was Kevin Bates.

  Colin looked down at Emily, who was now seated on the bench. She reached out and took his hand. Her squeezing his fingers told him she remembered what he had shared with her earlier in the day.

  “Kevin knew I used to make fake IDs,” Bruce went on, “and wanted me to make one for him when I got out. I told him I didn’t do that anymore, I was going straight, but I supplied him with the name of someone else who did.”

  “What’s that guy’s name?” Colin asked.

  “No, no, no…if I give his name to a cop, I’m dead. What I can tell you, though, is Bates’ new name and that he came into a pile of cash after he got out.”

  “How do you know that?” Spencer questioned.

  “I ran into him at a coffee shop one day. He flashed his new driver’s license at me, and then he thanked me for the referral.”

  “Did you see the name on the license?”

  “Yeah, it was Colin something or other…Anderson, I think.”

  Emily and Colin shot a fearful, knowing look at each other.

  “Hey,” Bruce chuckled, eyeing Colin, “almost like yours.”

  “How did he come into a bunch of money?” Emily asked.

  “Seems he had a life insurance policy on his wife. He said they both got policies right after they were married, so it’d been long enough that the suicide clause didn’t apply.”

  “Damn! A new identity and enough cash to live on, off the grid,” Colin said, twisting away and looking out over the water.

  Bruce followed him with his gaze. “Now I can’t say if he was involved in this murder you’re talking about, but it is possible, isn’t it?”

  Colin turned back and nodded.

  Bruce’s gaze shifted to the San Francisco detective, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “So you’ll talk to the authorities and get my sentence shortened?”

  “As long as I can verify it wasn’t you that Bates paid to give him that new identity.”

  Chapter 22

  The four said their good-byes, and Colin and Emily stepped over the railroad ties and got back in their car.

  Emily pulled her seatbelt across her body and clicked it. “What are you thinking?”

  Colin was about to respond when Emily’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he answered it. It was his contact in the SFPD.

  The man said he had done some research, learning that Kevin Bates was released from prison six months ago. Since then, he had dropped off the map. There was no current address or driver’s license found in any records he searched, statewide or nationally, and he couldn’t find any credit cards or banking information.

  “Can you email me his photo and any details you have on him?”

  “Sure, Colin, but the guy’s a ghost.”

  Colin thanked his friend, his face expressionless. He stuck Emily’s phone back in his pocket and shifted in his seat toward her.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  Colin shared with her the gist of their conversation, his voice growing more serious and pensive as he spoke. He propped his left forearm on the top of the steering wheel and his head hung down. “Seems our Kevin Bates has disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  Emily looked at Colin with his head bent down and his right hand hovering over his broken ribs. “Meds wearing off?”

  He nodded.

  “Why don’t we go and get some food? Then you can take something for the pain.” She rested her hand on his thigh.

  He slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. “Sounds good.”

  “Oh no! Today is Thursday,” Emily said.

  “Yes, that’s true. Why?”

  “Girls-only potluck dinner,” she replied. “I’m supposed to be at Camille’s in a couple of hours with some sort of Indian side dish.”

  “They’ll be mad if you don’t show up.” Colin pulled her phone out of his pocket and held it out to her.

  “Yeah, I’d better call and tell them I can’t make it.” Emily took the phone and called Camille, looking grateful to get her voicemail. She left a message saying she and Colin needed to get away from the case for a few hours, that they went for a long drive. She apologized for the short notice and hoped they had a great time without her.

  “I hate lying to my friends,” Emily said, sticking her phone in her bag.

  “Well, you did go for a long drive. That part was true.”

  “Besides, I really don’t like Indian food.” Emily wrinkled her nose and grinned at him. “So, what’s our next move?”

  Colin straightened in his seat. “I think we need to get back to Paradise Valley and find Kevin Bates.” He shoved the key in the ignition and started the engine.

  “I am getting hungry, though,” Emily said. “We should stop and pick up something, then you can take your meds.”

  “As long as we’re here,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main street, “why don’t you let me take you to Fisherman’s Wharf for dinner?”

  “I was thinking something quick so we could get on the road.”

  “If we leave now, we’ll be stuck in commuter traffic for a long time. Let’s wait out the rush hour at a nice restaurant. I’d like to take you down to my favorite spot, Tarantino’s.”

  She had never been to San Francisco before. The thought of a delicious fish dinner with Colin, on the wharf, sounded nice.

  “But we don’t have reservations. Won’t it be a long wait? You need to take your meds with food soon.”

  “I can just pop three or four Advil with some water and hold off on the stronger stuff until the drive home. I assume you’ll want me to get us out of the city before you take over the wheel.”

  ~*~

  “Your table is ready, Mr. McKenzie,” the maître d’ announced. He was an older man with graying hair, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. “Right this way.”

  Colin and Emily followed behind him. They were both quite a bit underdressed for this elegant seafood restaurant, but she decided she would simply enjoy the fine meal and the plush surroundings. As long as they had money to pay, why should anyone care?

  They were seated at a linen-covered table, next to a wall of windows, with a spectacular view of the bay. The gray clouds had parted and the setting sun cast golden ripples over the water.

  If it wasn’t for the murder charges, and the uncomfortable disguises, this could have been a romantic, leisurely dinner with her fiancé—one that she could tell her girlfriends all about. But reality being what it was Emily resigned to enjoy their delicious meal while they waited for th
eir chance to get out of the city undetected.

  When dinner was through, Colin took Emily’s hand as they left the restaurant. He led her down the wooden path that skirted around the restaurant, to the boat docks where almost a hundred sailboats were berthed.

  She rested her arms on the wooden railing and looked out over the bay. “This is absolutely beautiful, Colin.”

  A few seagulls squawked in the distance as they flew across the dark water, illuminated only by the lights from the restaurants and lamps lit among the boats.

  “I thought you might like it.” He came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

  She leaned back against him and closed her eyes, enjoying his nearness.

  He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “I love you, Emily.” He kissed her on the side of her neck and she quivered from the sensation of his warm lips against her skin. “I will always love you.” He sounded eerily sad, as if he was slipping away.

  She spun around within his embrace and lifted her face to him. “I love you, too.”

  His face lowered, his lips hovering over hers for a moment. Then he brushed his lips lightly against hers and she closed her eyes with expectation. His kiss was warm and soft at first, growing in intensity and passion.

  “I can’t lose you, Emily.” His arms tightened around her body and he kissed her again.

  She tasted salt in his kiss, realizing tears had dripped down his cheeks. “You’re not going to lose me—I’m right here.”

  “We’re running out of time before the trial begins. If we can’t find Kevin Bates, I’m hung.” His voice exposed a raw vulnerability.

  “Don’t talk like that, Colin.” She wiped her hand over his cheek to dry the tears. “We’ll find him.”

  “But what if—”

  Emily put her fingers over his lips. “We’ll find him. That’s what we do, you and me.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, we’ll find him. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  She removed her hand and he kissed her. The raw emotion she had heard in his voice overflowed into his kiss, fierce and ardent.

 

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