3 The Chain of Lies

by Debra Burroughs

  “What about all the others?” Emily wondered about the thousands whom they could not save.

  “I guess all we can do is try to keep our eyes open, watch for others who might be caught up in it.”

  “I totally agree.”

  “Turns out most of the Thai girls had been kidnapped from their villages and snuck into the US.”

  “What about the dead girl in the river?” Emily asked.

  “Your girl, Maliwan, confirmed she was one of the girls from the house, but she didn’t know why she had been killed.”

  “Probably because she turned up pregnant.”

  “Maybe,” Isabel supposed. “Oh, before I forget, Jerry admitted he had been the one breaking into your house. He was searching for the infamous hypothetical gun. I hope that helps to put your mind at ease.”

  “It does.” Emily nodded. “I assume that means he won’t be following me anymore either, right?”

  “I don’t know why he would.”

  “Emily?” Molly interrupted, standing across the breakfast bar.

  Emily turned and smiled at her.

  “I wanted to thank you for believing me about that sad Asian girl…and for rescuing me.”

  “You’re welcome, Mol.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to do it if I hadn’t screwed up.” Molly rested her forearms on the breakfast bar and pursed her lips.

  “What do you mean?” Emily cast a sideways glance at Isabel.

  “If I hadn’t been snooping around that house, searching for clues—I only wanted to be part of the investigation, of saving those girls.”

  Emily flew around the breakfast bar and flung her arms around Molly. “You’re a brave young woman, Molly Hawthorne, to attempt something so dangerous, but you could have gotten yourself killed.”

  “Honey, please don’t do anything like that again,” Isabel added.

  “You guys don’t get it.” Molly pulled back from Emily’s embrace. “I was only trying to help, to be more like you.”

  “Hush, Molly,” Emily warned in a low tone, putting her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she glanced around to make sure Camille wasn’t within earshot. “Your mom will kill me if she hears you talking like that. She’s already mad at me.”

  “But Emily,” Molly argued.

  “I do get it, really I do,” Emily replied in a tone just above a whisper. “I probably would have done the same thing, but I’m not seventeen.”

  “You’ve got to be more careful,” Isabel warned.

  “Just know that we’re always here for you.”

  Molly nodded her understanding.

  “And don’t let your mother know we had this talk,” Emily advised.

  “Hey, what’s going on here? Didn’t I hear something about ice cream?” Peter asked.

  ~*~

  After celebrating Molly’s release from the hospital for an hour or so, the party broke up and those who needed to, returned to work.

  Colin drove Emily home, planning to drop her off before heading back to the station.

  She unfastened her seatbelt and shifted in her seat to face him. “Why don’t you come by for dinner tonight?”

  “I have a better idea. We haven’t been on a proper date since I got back. Why don’t I take you out? Someplace nice—it’ll be a surprise.”

  “All right.” She gazed at him, full of curiosity.

  “I was wondering something—I mean, after Delia’s confession—there’s just something I want to talk to you about.” He leaned over, put his arm around her, and drew her near. He studied her face, looked deeply into her eyes, then wove his fingers into her hair.

  He looks so serious. I wonder what’s wrong.

  He brushed his lips softly against hers. “I love you, Emily Parker.”

  She brought her lips urgently to his and felt his passion for her.

  After a long moment, he released her. “I hate to leave you, but I need to get back to the station. See you at seven?”

  “Yes, I’ll be looking forward to it.” She flashed him a sweet smile and pushed the car door open. “I love you, too, Colin Andrews.”

  She glanced back at him over her shoulder, noticing he was watching her sashay up her walkway to the front porch. The smile on his face said he was appreciating the sway of her hips.

  Once she was inside, he drove off.

  All afternoon she wondered what he wanted to talk about. He’d looked so serious. She hoped it wasn’t bad news, like his needing to return to San Francisco again. He’d said something about Delia, though. Maybe he was upset with Emily’s reaction to her comments and thought she wasn’t over Evan.

  Emily hoped not. But if it was, she would just have to show him she was ready to move on with him.

  Having fought through the last few hectic and stressful days, and wanting to keep her mind off negative thoughts where Colin was concerned, Emily decided to pamper herself for the afternoon.

  With Jerry confined to the hospital, Delia under arrest, and the mysterious gun no longer in her possession, she felt safe in her home once more. She took a long bubble bath, polished her toenails, and gave herself a facial.

  Then she took her time getting ready for her date, piling her loosely tousled curls in a twist on her head and carefully applying her makeup. She lightly spritzed a new perfume on her hair and both sides of her neck.

  Standing before her full-length mirror, Emily slipped into a deep blue-green fitted dress that the salesgirl said played up the color of her eyes and showed off her slender figure. Checking the fit from all angles, she hoped Colin would be pleased with what he saw.

  As she retrieved her cell phone from the nightstand, she noticed Evan’s little black address book sticking out from under one of the pillows on her bed. She pulled it out and flipped through the pages filled with names and codes, remembering the boxes of CIA files still in the storage unit. The sooner she got that book and the files into Isabel’s hands, the better—but it would not be tonight. She tucked the little book under her pillow again, for now.

  Standing before the mirror in her bathroom, putting her dangly gold earrings on, Emily recalled she still had Camille’s white twinkle lights strung around the backyard garden and the gazebo. She considered the idea of flicking them on and inviting Colin out to the beautiful white gazebo that Evan had built for her. She had already taken him out to the deck, ready to show him the garden before they had been interrupted by the exploding potatoes.

  Taking him all the way out to her gazebo at the edge of the garden would be a big step for her—proving to Colin she was, indeed, ready to move on. Tonight, if she led him out to it, she hoped he would realize the significance of it, that she had finally and completely closed the chapter on her life with Evan.

  The doorbell rang at seven o’clock sharp, and Emily hurried to answer it, trying to fasten her necklace clasp behind her neck as she walked. She flung the door open wide.

  Colin stepped across the threshold wearing a handsome black suit with a crisp, white open-collared shirt, holding a bouquet of at least two dozen red roses down at his side.

  “Right on time,” she said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.

  “You look gorgeous, Babe.” Colin leaned forward to kiss her, slipping his free arm around her waist. His hand splayed on her back as he pulled her toward him.

  She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, then slid it to the back of his neck as he bent down. Their lips met, sending a tingling shiver feathering up her back at the pleasure of his kiss.

  “Boy, you smell good,” she whispered, taking in a slow, deep breath before releasing him, her head lightly dizzy from his musky scent.

  “These are for you.” He held out the lavish bouquet ensconced in a sheath of clear crinkling wrap.

  “Oh, Colin,” she gushed. “They’re beautiful. Let me put them in some water.” She started off to the kitchen and he followed close behind. “Can you get the vase down for me?”

  Emily watched as he extended his arm to an
upper cabinet to retrieve it, enjoying how GQ and sexy he looked.

  She filled the crystal vase with water and carefully arranged the long-stem blossoms in it, before inhaling the scent of the fragrant blooms. After setting the roses in the center of the table, she gently took Colin by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

  “I don’t know if we have time, Babe. We have reservations.”

  She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, enjoying the feel of her body against his. “It’s important, Colin, and it’ll only take a minute.”

  “All right, lead the way.”

  Emily led him across the deck and onto the lush green grass. The bushes and trees were aglow with tiny white lights, as was the gazebo. He slowed to take it all in. She tugged on his hand to continue following her. When they came to a stop, they were standing in the middle of the lovely gazebo.

  “Are you sure you want to be out here?” Colin lifted her hand and lightly kissed her fingers. “I know how you’ve avoided this place.”

  “That’s true. I haven’t wanted to come out here since Evan died.”

  “Why now?”

  “I want you to know my life with Evan is finally in the past. I can’t say I’ll ever forget him, or what we shared—but I love you now, and I’m ready to move on with my life.”

  He drew her into his arms, pressing his cheek firmly against hers. “Emily, I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone. You’re in my thoughts constantly.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “I want to be with you all the time—take long walks with you, snuggle with you, fight with you, make up with you, catch bad guys with you…as long as we both shall live.”

  She leaned her head back and smiled as she looked up into his misty, adoring eyes. She could see the reflection of the twinkle lights shimmering in them and wondered what he’d meant.

  As long as we both shall live? Could it be?

  Maybe she’d been worrying for nothing.

  In the next moment, he released his arms from around her body and slid down on one knee, in the center of the gazebo, taking hold of her left hand.

  “Colin?” Her breath caught in her throat.

  He pulled a small black-velvet box out of his trouser pocket. He flipped it open with his thumb, displaying a dazzling marquis-cut diamond solitaire set in a platinum band.

  “I was going to do this at the restaurant later, but this suddenly seems like a more appropriate place.”

  She gasped and her right hand flew up to her chest.

  “Emily Bradford Parker, I love you with my whole heart. I never want to be apart from you again. Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?”

  “Yes! Yes—oh, of course, you crazy wonderful man!”

  Instantly, he stood to his feet and his arms were around her. His warm, moist lips on hers, and she responded to a wave of passionate kisses.

  Emily felt free now—free to love him with her whole heart—and she could not get close enough to him. She laced her hands around his back and held herself against him. A warm tingling sensation started in her breast and radiated throughout her body.

  For the longest time they stood together in the middle of the enchanting gazebo, clinging to each other in silence, neither seemed in a hurry to let go.

  Emily was first to gently break the silence. “Colin?”

  “Yes.”

  She grinned. “Didn’t I see a diamond ring?”

  “Oh, sorry.” He pulled back from her embrace. “I got so excited when you said yes that I forgot to slip it on your finger.” He opened the box again and pulled the ring out.

  Emily offered him her hand and he slid the spectacular ring on her finger. She held it up to admire it and it sparkled in the twinkling light. “The ring is stunning, Colin. You have excellent taste.”

  “In rings and in women.”

  She smiled at him, then her gaze returned to the ring as she continued to hold it up and admire it. “Mrs. Emily Andrews. That sounds nice.”

  “I’ve never heard a more beautiful name.” Colin took her left hand and tenderly kissed the back of it, then softly kissed her lips. “Mrs. Emily Andrews,” he repeated, looking longingly into her eyes, “as long as we both shall live.”

  – THE END –

  Thank you so much for reading my book, The Chain of Lies.

  I hope you enjoyed it very much.

  The highest compliment an author can get is to receive a great review, especially if the review is posted on Amazon.com.

  Please, read on… for an exciting sneak

  peek of The Scent of Lies, A Paradise

  Valley Mystery: Book One

  Oh, what a tangled web we weave

  when first we practice to deceive.”

  ~ Sir Walter Scott

  PROLOGUE

  Life has a way of not turning out the way you had planned, of taking you down roads you had no intention of ever going. Moving in unexpected twists and turns, some bends in the road make you stronger, while others can destroy you.

  ~*~

  The housekeeper gasped and split the air with a horrifying, ear-piercing scream as she burst in on the mister and misses. She discovered the wife, clothed in a creamy satin robe, with her dark wavy hair floating around her shoulders, kneeling beside her husband’s almost lifeless body, which lay on the plush living room floor.

  The wife stared wide-eyed at the bloody kitchen knife in her hand.

  “Help me,” the man whispered almost imperceptibly, terror shimmering in his eyes, trying to grab hold of her wrist.

  “Ricardo,” she cried, shaking her head violently. “No! This can’t be happening.”

  “Delia...” he gasped.

  “Call nine-one-one, Marcela!” the misses ordered.

  “Marcela,” the man hissed with his last breath.

  “Oh, my God, Miss Delia!” Marcela stood paralyzed.

  “For heaven’s sake, Marcela, go call the police!” the wife screeched. “I think my husband is dead!”

  CHAPTER 1

  “Babe, it’s time to get up,” Emily Parker muttered sweetly.

  She had awakened to the brilliant morning light streaming in through her bedroom window and sleepily stretched her arm out to her husband’s side of the bed, searching for his warmth. At the sensation of the crisply cold sheets, her hand recoiled. Flipping back the covers, she sat up and shook her head. After all this time, she still caught herself reaching out for him.

  It was late on a lazy Saturday morning. Sleeping in was so unlike her, but after tossing restlessly in the night, with imaginings of her late husband floating in and out of her mind, she hadn’t drifted off to sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

  Now, after a quick shower, she stood in the middle of her overflowing walk-in closet, looking for the perfect outfit to wear for her celebratory lunch with her best friends. She surveyed the racks of clothes, unable to make up her mind. She glanced at his side of the closet. Everything was exactly as Evan had left it that final morning six months ago. Still, she had not yet been able to bring herself to get rid of his things—she had her reasons.

  From time to time she would drape herself in one of his shirts or sweaters just to smell his scent and to feel him near. Today would be one of those times. Compelled as she was by her dreams, her need to feel close to him won out over her need to hurry, and she buried her nose in a navy blue hooded sweatshirt hanging on the rack. Breathing in the lingering trace of his rugged masculinity brought him vividly to her mind. She could not help herself—she still missed his crooked smile, the warmth of his strong arms wrapped around her and how glorious he made her feel when they made sweet love.

  Emily pulled it off the hanger and shrugged it on, hoping for some emotional comfort. Then she zipped it up and stuck her hands in the pockets, surprised to feel the crackling of paper in one of them. She pulled out a small folded note. Her curiosity piqued, she opened it. In blue ink, the name Delia
and a phone number was scrawled in the cursive penmanship of a woman.

  Who is Delia? She frowned at the note. Was she a client, an informant, a friend? A lover? As fast as the thought about this female possibly being Evan’s lover popped into her head, she pushed it right out again. She’d always had complete trust in him. They had been absolutely happy, until the horrible night he was killed. He’d never given her any reason to suspect he had ever been unfaithful to her. I’m just being silly.

  Her cell phone beeped a reminder and she realized she had spent far too long wallowing in Evan’s clothes. Now she really needed to hurry and get dressed for the lunch date with her girlfriends. They were celebrating five years from the day they all first met and began what had grown into a close circle of friends. If she was late, they’d never let her hear the end of it.

  She grabbed a pair of white slacks that she knew would show off her slim figure and added a silk turquoise blouse that everyone said set off her dazzling greenish-blue eyes and her head of tousled honey-blonde curls. Emily stepped into her trendy Espadrilles, grabbed her oversized leather purse, and flew out the door.

  The girls had chosen the Blue Moon Café—the current hotspot in Paradise Valley—because of the nouveau-gourmet menu and outdoor patio with a breathtaking view of the river. Emily pulled her white Volvo sedan into the crowded parking lot. As she approached the front door, she spotted her party seated under a large blue umbrella at a table on the patio. It was a good choice. They could enjoy the breezy spring air and the sound of the rushing water flowing by while they toasted their anniversary.

  Emily made her way through the bustling restaurant, lively with laughter and conversation, and as she stepped out onto the sunny patio, the girls were chatting away. “Hello, ladies.” She eased the empty chair out and tucked herself into the group.

  “Emily, you’re late,” Camille Hawthorne pointed out. Camille was like a mother hen to the girls, being a bit older than the others, having a daughter in high school and a son in college. Her looks would not give her age away, though, and she wore her fiery red hair in a cropped and spiky style. But her husband, Jonathan, a sales executive for a local corporation, was the only one who could get away with calling her Red.