The Betrayal of Lies

by Debra Burroughs

  “Please calm down, sir,” Colin said. “It’s important we ask these questions and gather the facts. A seemingly unrelated piece of information can often trigger a break in a case. We just never know.”

  Patrick turned away, and hung his head, as he leaned a hand on the elaborate fireplace mantle. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.” He turned back to face them, his eyes filled with worry. “But time is ticking away while we stand here talking.”

  The man’s temperament flew from one extreme to the other. One moment he was sad and calm and the next he was raging against them for not moving fast enough. Emily wondered if Colin noticed it too. She made a note to ask him about it later, when they were alone.

  “We need all the information, sir, so we can figure out our next move,” Colin said. “Let’s keep going. My officer said the family room was out of place too?”

  “Yeah. When I didn’t find Elise in here, I went to the kitchen. It overlooks the family room and it was a mess.”

  “Why don’t you show us?” Colin asked.

  “It’s right this way.”

  When they got to the family room, the creamy white leather sofa was knocked over—a scuffle perhaps—a deep blue ceramic lamp lay broken on the floor, and colorful throw pillows were strewn about. A few drops of what looked like dried blood speckled the beige area rug. The CSI crew would surely test it when they arrived.

  Emily glanced around the kitchen, taking note of the rich walnut cabinets and light granite countertops. A single wine glass sat on the large center island, a trace of red wine at the bottom and a smudge of rose-colored lipstick around the rim.

  Before she’d stepped into the kitchen, Emily had noticed broken glass on the hardwood floor and a small amount of spilled wine—another wine glass, no doubt. Seemed as if Elise had had a visitor.

  Unfortunately, the other wine glass had shattered into small pieces, but the narrow stem was fairly intact. Emily guessed the chances of lifting any prints or DNA from the broken glass were little to none, but Nelly, the county’s forensic scientist, was a genius of sorts, and if anyone could work miracles, she could.

  “Is there anyone you’d like us to call for you?” Emily asked. “Your daughter, maybe? Elise mentioned she was away at college.”

  “Elise’s daughter,” Patrick corrected, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face. “Kaitlyn is my stepdaughter.”

  “Would you like me to call her?” Emily offered again.

  He nodded, worry lines forming around his moist eyes. “Her cell number’s on the fridge.”

  Colin gestured around the house. “It’s apparent you have money, Mr. Murphy. This might be a kidnapping for ransom.”

  Patrick nodded and lowered his gaze. “Yes, I had wondered about that.”

  “We don’t know yet if that’s the case, but we do have to consider it.”

  “There’s been no note or phone call.” Mr. Murphy shook his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Nothing.”

  “That doesn’t mean there won’t be. If someone knew you were out of town, maybe they were waiting for you to get back,” Colin said.

  “Can we set up a phone tap or a trace, or whatever you call it? Just in case? I’ll pay anything. Anything!” His voice broke into sobs. “I just want my wife back.”

  Emily’s gaze met Colin’s. Patrick Murphy seemed genuinely dejected over his wife’s disappearance.

  Colin rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do. The county crime scene investigators should be here soon, and—”

  “Speak of the devil.” Emily tilted her head toward the foyer as voices drifted to the back of the house.

  The team of three walked in and Colin filled them in on what they were dealing with.

  “After you’re done here and get everything back to the lab, let me know. I want to stay in the loop on this.” Colin turned back to the husband. “Since this house is now a crime scene, do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”

  “My bags are still packed. My company keeps a luxury apartment for our best clients. I don’t think anyone’s staying there right now.”

  “We’ll need to meet with you early in the morning, around seven o’clock?”

  Patrick nodded his agreement.

  “I’d like to get that list of possible enemies in the morning, Mr. Murphy, anyone who might want revenge. As well as the list of jewelry.”

  “I’ll do my best, Detective Andrews.”

  Colin checked his watch. “Your neighbors probably won’t appreciate our knocking on their doors when it’s after midnight, but I’ll send my officers out to canvass the area anyway. You only have a few nearby and you never know—someone might have seen or heard something.”

  The neighborhood where the Murphys lived had large, expensive homes spread out on several-acre lots, so there were not many who were close enough to have seen or heard anything from inside their homes, but someone may have been out walking or driving by. It was worth looking into.

  “I’ll try to get a phone tap set up,” Colin said, “just in case you do receive a ransom call. They’ll be able to trace any incoming calls.”

  “I appreciate that, Detective.”

  “We’ll need the home number here as well as your cell phone and the number and the address of that apartment, I’ll send the electronics technician over first thing in the morning. Is the apartment large enough to set up a command center if we need to?”

  “The dining area is large enough for a conference table,” Patrick replied.

  “There’s no guarantee the city will pay for this. It is still only speculation,” Colin said.

  “I told you, I’ll pay anything. Whatever you need, Detective, I’ll make available to you. Just bring Elise back to me—alive.”

  Chapter 3

  Early the next morning, the Murphy apartment was buzzing with local police and electronics technicians setting up their equipment on the long, massive, carved mahogany dining table, preparing to trace any calls that might come in. It wasn’t much to go on, and it was far from a sure thing, but it was all they had. Colin had managed to convince them to go ahead with set-up after explaining that Patrick Murphy had agreed to pay if it didn’t turn out to be necessary.

  While Colin was orchestrating the set-up, Emily was on the phone with Elise’s family members, alerting them to her disappearance and questioning them about anything they might know that could help them find her.

  She had phoned Elise’s daughter on the way home the previous night, only getting her voicemail. Not wanting to leave such a disturbing message, she simply asked Kaitlyn to call her back as soon as possible.

  So far this morning, Emily hadn’t heard back from the girl. She tried again, but just got voicemail, so she went on and phoned Elise’s sister, Janet, who lived in Boston. Shocked by the news, Janet told Emily that she did know that Elise was unhappy in her marriage and she was thinking of leaving Patrick.

  That comment didn’t line up with what Patrick Murphy had told them when he’d said that they had occasional arguments, but in general they got along fine. Nor did it line up with his actions. His concern for Elise’s welfare seemed genuine, as well as his offer to do anything, pay anything, necessary to bring her home. Was the husband lying? Could he manufacture tears on demand? Or was he simply unaware of how unhappy his wife truly was?

  “Do you think your brother-in-law knew about Elise’s plans to divorce him?” Emily asked out of earshot of everyone else.

  “I doubt it,” Janet replied. “Patrick’s not around much. According to my sister, he’s either at work or traveling on business most of the time.”

  “Sounds like a lonely life.” A twinge of sadness pricked Emily’s heart, but she pressed on. “Did Elise ever mention any friends she might be having trouble with?”

  “Not really. Oh, there were other women where she volunteered, but from the way she spoke about them, they seemed more like acquaintances than friends. As far as anyone sh
e might have problems with, she never told me about anyone.”

  After hanging up, Emily spoke to several of the women Elise had worked on charities with, those whose names and numbers Patrick had provided. Nothing new came from any of those conversations. Janet was right—the women sounded more like acquaintances than friends.

  No wonder Elise wanted the job as a wedding planner—to fill her time and her life with happy people, not to mention that she and Camille seemed to be forming a close friendship. Perhaps Camille could tell her more about Elise.

  Emily stopped by Camille’s shop for a chat.

  “Oh, Emily, I can’t believe Elise is missing,” Camille gasped. “Let’s sit down.” She dragged out a chair for herself at the conference table and sank down onto it. “We were all sitting around this table talking about your wedding just yesterday.”

  “I know. “Emily took a seat beside her. “I was starting to like the woman.” She paused, watching Camille stare blankly across the room, presumably thinking about Elise. “What can you tell me about her?”

  Emily waited for a moment with no reply. “Camille?”

  The redhead’s attention snapped back to Emily. “Tell you about her? Like what?”

  “For instance, did she ever mention anyone she was having a problem with? Someone who might want to harm her?”

  “Elise?” A puzzled looked swept across Camille’s face. “Oh, my gosh, who would want to harm Elise? She was a good person—I mean she is a good person. She always has a smile on her face, she volunteers her time at a number of charities, she’s warm and kindhearted. I can’t imagine anyone would want to hurt a hair on her head. Now her husband on the other hand…”

  “What do you mean?” Emily’s interest piqued.

  “Well, you know…he’s rich and powerful. I’m sure that man has trampled over a few people as he climbed to the top.”

  “Did Elise ever mention any of them?”

  “No, never.”

  “What about her husband? Did she ever talk to you about him?”

  “Just that he had provided her with everything she ever needed—except himself.” Camille sat back and crossed her arms. “I can relate. My Jonathan travels a lot for work, too.”

  “But you and Jonathan seem to have a great marriage.” At least that’s how it looked from the outside, Emily surmised.

  “We have our share of conflicts, like anybody else, but we’re committed to each other—for better or worse. Thankfully, it’s been mostly for the better.”

  “Did Elise ever mention leaving her husband?”

  “No, not to me, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Camille looked at Emily with a wistful grin. “There’s only so much loneliness a woman can stand before something’s got to give.”

  Emily hadn’t considered how lonely Camille might be when her husband travelled on business so often. Maybe it was easier for Camille than Elise because her work kept her pretty busy and she had a close group of friends she saw often. Elise, on the other hand, hadn’t had that, not until she met Camille.

  However, with Molly going off to college in the fall, Camille would be all alone in the house when Jonathan was travelling, except for the company of Chester, their golden retriever. Emily decided the girls would have to make sure they checked in with Camille a little more often during those times he was away.

  Emily rose. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get going. You’ll give me a call if you think of anything, won’t you?”

  “I will.” Camille stood and hugged Emily tightly. “I hope you find her.”

  ~*~

  On the drive back to the Murphy apartment, Emily made another attempt at calling Elise’s daughter, but again had no luck. She left another vague voicemail, wondering if she should be more specific in the message, more urgent, but she didn’t want Kaitlyn to find out about her mother that way. She’d try her again later.

  Next Emily phoned Colin and brought him up to speed on her conversations with Camille and Elise’s sister. “Sounds like things weren’t as rosy in the Murphy house as the mister led us to believe.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he said. “Most people don’t want to admit when they’re having marital problems, especially not to complete strangers.”

  “Particularly when it might make him look as if he might have had something to do with her disappearance.”

  “Happily married or not, someone did take his wife. He has an alibi—he was out of town on business. I had Ernie verify his meetings and travel plans.”

  “Okay, so maybe the husband wasn’t involved,” Emily conceded. “Any word from any potential kidnappers?”

  “Not yet, but we’re ready for their call when it comes,” Colin said. “By the way, Isabel is here.”

  “Isabel? Why?” Emily was confused. This hadn’t become a federal case yet. Why would the FBI be interested in this situation?

  “She said her office heard about the possibility of a kidnapping and that the FBI just wants to be kept in the loop. I guess Patrick Murphy is a big deal. Apparently, he called his friend the Governor early this morning, who must have called someone he knows in the FBI.”

  “Sounds like he doesn’t trust us small-town detectives,” Emily said with an edge of sarcasm.

  “Yeah, don’t take it personally. The guy wants his wife back,” Colin reasoned. “If you were missing, Babe, I’d call in the FBI, the CIA, and the NSA to do a full-court press to find you.”

  His words made her smile. “I’m pulling up now. See you in a minute.”

  ~*~

  Colin was standing in the far corner of the dining area speaking to Isabel when he noticed Emily and he waved her over.

  Emily stepped inside the spacious and stylish apartment and turned toward the buzz of conversation coming from the dining area to the right of the foyer, appearing to have seen Colin’s gesture. A number of men were in the room, some in suits and others in uniforms, a few seated at the table in front of a bank of electronic equipment, others milling around, talking.

  Isabel, dressed in her usual dark blue business suit and tailored white blouse, with her long dark curls pulled up into a twist, looking very FBI, smiled as Emily approached.

  Emily carefully squeezed between the men that filled the room until she reached Colin and Isabel. “Full house, I see.”

  “Hey, Em.” Isabel grasped her hand. “I was just saying the same thing to Colin.”

  “Where’s Patrick Murphy?” Emily asked, glancing around.

  Colin tilted his head and lifted his chin in the direction of the formal living room on the other side of the expansive foyer. “Sitting in there with the Chief,” he said, referring to the Paradise Valley Chief of Police. “Seems they’ve known each other for a while.”

  “Right,” Emily said. “Full-court press.”

  “You got it.” Colin winked. He had meant it when he’d said that there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to rescue her in a similar situation.

  “Did you guys canvass the neighborhood yet?” Isabel asked. “Talk to the neighbors?”

  “We did last night.” Colin gave a slight nod. “My people came up with nothing. These homes are so far apart, no one saw or heard anything.”

  “What about Mr. Murphy’s enemies?” Isabel glanced around and lowered her voice. “Anyone have it out for him?”

  “I asked him the same thing,” Emily said.

  Isabel lifted her eyebrows at them both. “And?”

  “He’s supposed to be getting me a list today,” Colin said. “We’re on top of it.”

  “And did you check out the husband’s alibi?”

  “Of course, Isabel.” Colin felt himself becoming a bit defensive. “This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.”

  “Okay then.” Isabel pinched her lips together for a moment. “I think I’m just in the way here, so I think I’ll be going.”

  Colin knew Isabel wasn’t purposely trying to be condescending, although it still
prickled him. From what Emily had shared about Isabel, he knew it was her years of being in the CIA and then the FBI that fashioned her unbridled penchant for details and thoroughness.

  Isabel put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and gave a little squeeze. “I’m headed back to my office. Call me if—”

  Before Isabel could finish her thought, Patrick Murphy’s cell phone began to ring. He grabbed it and bolted to the dining room.

  “Everybody quiet!” Colin shouted as he stepped up beside the husband. The rooms fell silent. He leaned in to Patrick. “Remember, speak slowly and keep them on the line as long as you can.”

  The tech on the tracing equipment pointed to Patrick to answer.

  On the third ring, Patrick clicked the button. “Hello, this is Patrick Murphy.” He listened to the caller. “You want how much?” His gaze shifted to Colin.

  Colin rubbed his hands together in expectation.

  “Two million dollars? In small unmarked bills.” Patrick spoke slowly, still eyeing Colin. Then he paused and listened again before replying. “It’s going to take some time to get that much money together. I don’t have that kind of cash just sitting around in a bank account. I’ll have to liquidate some assets, you know.”

  Colin leaned his ear near the phone. He overheard the voice on the phone yell at Patrick to shut up. It sounded as if the caller was using some kind of electronic device to distort his voice.

  “I want to talk to my wife, make sure she’s—” Patrick’s shoulders slumped and he drew in a shaky breath, staring at the phone in his hand. “He hung up.”

  “You did good.” Colin patted him on the back before shifting his attention to the technician. “Was it long enough?”

  “Not quite.”

  He turned back to Patrick Murphy. “Can you get that much cash together quickly?”

  Patrick shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best.”

  ~*~

  Within the hour, Patrick Murphy’s phone beeped that he had a text. Holding it out so Colin and Emily could see it, he clicked on the text, which had a video attached. He opened the file.