“Patrick Murphy is a big deal,” Peter replied. “It’s national news. My cameraman will be here tomorrow for the funeral.”
“Don’t tell me it’s going to be a media circus,” Emily moaned.
“Doubtful,” Peter said. “It’s not like Bill Gates died or anything, but there will probably be a few reporters from the major affiliates.”
“Great.” Emily grimaced. She didn’t know how much she should say about the investigation, so she just walked out the back door to inform the guys Peter was there.
~*~
“We should be just about ready to eat,” Isabel announced from the kitchen. “Only waiting on my dear husband and his amazing barbecued meats.”
The atrium door opened and Alex walked in carrying a brightly colored ceramic platter piled high with grilled steak and chicken pieces. “Who’s hungry?” he shouted.
Isabel took the platter from him and laid it front and center on the massive center island. “Dinner is ready! Everybody grab a plate and serve yourselves.”
Friendly chatter started up as each one took their turns around the island, choosing from the delectable spread, filling their dishes. The noisy crowd gathered around the dining table and dug into the savory, delicious food, amid conversation and laughter.
Emily was glad for the relief from the tragic last few days. She gazed around the dining table, comforted at being surrounded by all her good friends and the man she loved. This sociable time reminded her of the better days that once were and were sure to return, once Elise’s passing was mourned and her killer was behind bars.
Maggie sat across the table, beside Peter. All through dinner she had avoided making eye contact with Emily. The definite rift in their friendship made for an uncomfortable silence between them. Though Emily had apologized for having to question Maggie, the fact was that Maggie admitted she had been involved in Elise’s disappearance.
“Pass the butter, please, Maggie,” Emily requested, hoping to warm the icy air between them.
Maggie pushed it toward Emily, still averting her eyes.
“Something going on between you two?” Peter asked Maggie in a low voice, yet loud enough that Emily heard it.
“It’s nothin’. I’ll tell you later,” Maggie quietly replied to him. “I don’t want to spoil any part of my time with you.”
“Hey, Colin,” Peter shifted his focus across the table, “can we talk later about the case. I’d like to get all the facts for my story.”
Emily’s eyes flew to Maggie and for once that evening met her gaze. Maggie’s eyes grew wide with panic, pooling with fear that her secret would be exposed to Peter, begging Emily not to tell him about her indiscretions.
Clearing her throat, Emily jumped in before Colin could respond. “It’s an ongoing investigation, Peter. We can’t really discuss it.”
Peter leaned forward toward Colin and Emily and dropped the volume of his voice. “How about if I swear to keep what you tell me confidential until you let me know I’m safe to report on it?”
A cloud of silence descended on the dining room. Emily glanced around the table and realized everyone was listening in, waiting for Colin’s reply.
Apparently Colin had noticed it too. “Let me think about,” Colin said, before polishing off the last bite of his steak.
Maggie blew out a long breath, as if she had been holding it, waiting for Colin’s answer. Her eyes briefly flashed in Emily’s direction, then she leaned over and whispered something into Peter’s ear.
He smiled and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Me too,” he said, kissing the side of her head.
“Who wants dessert?” Isabel asked as she rose from her seat. “It’s fresh peach pie.”
Chapter 20
Isabel had sliced the pie and put the pieces out on small dessert plates for guests to serve themselves, offering a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a dollop of whipped cream. Once everyone had their dessert, most of them made their way into the family room to enjoy it.
As Peter picked up his plate of pie, Colin suggested they go eat their dessert out on the patio, where they could speak privately. Peter went out first.
Emily caught Colin’s arm as he turned to follow Peter outside. “Please don’t mention anything about Maggie. It would ruin their chances for any real happiness,” she whispered.
Colin raised his eyebrows to her, keeping his voice low. “Maybe Maggie should have thought about that before stepping out on him.”
“Colin, please.”
“All right. For you, Babe. But it’s bound to come out in the trial.” He stepped out the door to join Peter.
Colin and Peter stood outside talking, away from the house, at the edge of the patio, where they couldn’t be overheard. As Peter set a small recorder on the railing, Colin glanced back at the house and saw Emily at the window, looking out. Maggie stood a few feet behind her, watching as they talked. He doubted Emily was aware of her presence.
Although he didn’t want to be responsible for Peter breaking up with Maggie because he spilled the beans about her, he wasn’t going to lie about it either. If Emily had stepped out on him, he’d want to know before he took the relationship further, but he had no reason to believe she ever would.
Emily wasn’t like Maggie. She had married Evan right out of college and they would still be together if he hadn’t died. There had been no other men in her life between Evan and Colin, and he knew it.
However, Maggie, on the other hand, had gone from one bad relationship to another. She was too sweet and gullible and men tended to take advantage of her. But now, she seemed to have a real chance at happiness with Peter, who was a great guy and obviously head over heels for her. If he screwed that up for Maggie, Emily would never forgive him, not to mention the wrath of Maggie that would rain down on him.
“So, who do you think is the shooter?” Peter asked, drawing Colin’s attention back in.
Colin looked down at the recorder before speaking. “No taping, Peter. Shut it off.”
“I promise not to use whatever you tell me until you give me the go ahead.”
Colin shook his head as he picked up the device and handed it to Peter, watching to make sure he clicked it off. Once Peter pushed the off button and stuck it in his pocket, Colin felt free to speak.
“The shooter?” Peter asked again, pulling a small notepad and pen out of his back pocket.
“The evidence isn’t clearly pointing to one person in particular. We’ve narrowed it to either Patrick Murphy—the husband—or Jake Mitchell—the lover. No one else was at the cabin.”
“Help me understand. If the wife was in on the whole thing, why was she tied to the chair and gagged?”
“Good question. We haven’t been able to interrogate Mitchell yet, but my guess is they were getting ready to shoot another video and email it to the husband.” Colin glanced at the window again, but Emily and Maggie were gone.
“Still looking for a ransom?” Peter asked.
“Maybe. Or they were going to make it look like she was shot because the husband brought in the police.”
“Why is that?”
“So he wouldn’t go looking for her, I’m guessing.” A nervous tingle spread across his chest and up his neck. Should he really be telling a reporter about these things in an ongoing investigation?
“They never picked up the money from the trash bin, right?” Peter asked.
“Right. It appears the kidnapper suspected there were undercover cops waiting for him.”
“Which there were, right?”
“Yeah. The kidnapper even paid the homeless guy to get the duffle bag to see if cops were around.” The uneasiness continued. Maybe he should have cleared this conversation with Chief Nelson first. Just because he knew Peter and they had worked cases together didn’t exactly give him carte blanche to tell him everything.
“Did the old guy give you a description?” Peter asked.
Even though Peter had sworn not to report any of what was shared until Co
lin gave the all-clear, what if something leaked out? Colin glanced back at the house. “We should probably go back inside.”
“In a little while,” Peter replied, his pen poised against the notepad. “I’ve got a lot more questions.”
“I’m sure you do, and I know you’ll keep what I’ve told you confidential—”
“You haven’t told me much,” Peter said.
“I think before I tell you any more, I’d better clear it with the Chief.”
“Sounds like you don’t trust me, Colin.”
“It’s not that. I’d just feel better if I cover my backside, you know?”
~*~
When Colin and Peter came back inside, Emily and Isabel were huddled in the kitchen speaking in low tones.
“That’s all we’ve got for now,” Emily said to Isabel when she noticed Colin approaching. “Keep me posted if you dig up anything else.”
“What are you two up to in here?” Colin asked.
“Not much.” Emily grinned at Isabel. “Just girl talk.”
“I’ll bet,” he said.
“I think I’ll go see if anyone wants some coffee.” Isabel took her leave and headed for the family room.
“Seems Elise’s funeral is tomorrow at two,” Emily said, watching her friend walk away. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Mr. Murphy will give something away.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Babe.” Colin slipped his arms around her waist. “That man is like a steel trap.”
She slid her hands up his well-muscled arms and enjoyed the strength of them around her. “Perhaps I can figure out what will unlock it and get him to sing like a canary.”
Colin gave a deep laugh. “If anyone can, it’d be you, Babe.”
Emily pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him sweetly.
“Hey,” Peter said, walking in on them, “what’s so funny?”
~*~
The next day, at a few minutes before two, Colin and Emily entered the sanctuary of the Cathedral of the Rockies as soft music played. He wore his black suit and she chose a sleeveless black dress with pearl buttons down the front.
She glanced around the spacious and serene room, with voluminous ceilings and walls of stained glass, looking for Camille, Maggie, and Peter. The front of the auditorium was overflowing with fragrant and colorful floral arrangements, and a beautiful mahogany casket sat in the center with an elaborate spray of pink roses laid on top.
Emily squeezed Colin’s hand as her chest tightened, visualizing Elise’s dead body lying inside. After the way she was murdered, Emily wondered if the casket would remain closed. Goose bumps rippled over her bare arms.
“Are you all right?” Colin whispered.
She nodded as she drew in a deep breath. “It feels cold in here to me.”
A stunning painting of Elise was perched on a brass easel to the right of the casket and an elaborately carved oak podium stood on the left. A choir in deep purple robes with gold neck sashes filed into their pews across the back of the platform.
Emily spotted Camille in a summery navy blue dress, setting off her shock of short red hair. She was standing and waving them over, then pointing to the empty space at the end of their pew that they had saved for them. Their pew was on the right, five rows back from the front.
As they made their way down the center aisle, Emily noticed Patrick’s assistant Kara, dressed in a collarless black suit buttoned up to her neck, her blonde hair pulled neatly up in a twist. She was seated next to the Murphys’ attorney on the second row directly behind where Emily assumed the family would be seated.
On the second row across the aisle sat the Governor and his wife, alongside Maggie’s brother Sully, who was the Mayor of Paradise Valley, and his wife. Chief of Police Nelson slid in beside them, wearing his dress uniform. He gave Emily a quick smile when he saw her looking his way.
Camille hugged Emily briefly as she and Colin worked their way past their friends to reach their saved seats. Maggie remained seated, her arms crossed, apparently still miffed at the two of them, but Peter extended his hand to Colin as they passed by.
“Did we miss anything?” Emily quietly asked Peter, seated between him and Colin.
“Not yet.”
A side door opened and an older man in a dark gray suit emerged, presumably the pastor, followed by Patrick, then a young redheaded woman who was likely Kaitlyn, and a few other women Emily didn’t recognize—maybe sisters or cousins she assumed. The pastor went to the podium, as the others took their places on the front row, signaling the service was about to begin.
Emily remembered back to the last funeral she had attended—Evan’s. The grief was so overwhelming that the service was a blur in her memory. What was Patrick thinking now, knowing his bride was lying dead inside that expensive ornate box? She was seated too far behind him to observe his expression, read his face, to know if he was sincerely grieving for her.
Perhaps she could tell more at the graveside service.
~*~
After the funeral was over, Emily stood in the large foyer of the church with Colin and their friends. The girls reminisced about what a genuinely kind woman Elise had been and how much they were all going to miss her.
“Did anyone see Isabel here?” Camille asked, looking around at the crowd.
“I got a text from her earlier that she was stuck at work,” Emily said.
“Well, she didn’t really know Elise anyway,” Camille replied.
“Are we all heading to the cemetery for the graveside service?” Peter asked. “I’d like to go just to see who shows up—you know, those closest to the family, for my story.”
Camille fluffed her spiky hair. “Sorry, but I need to get back to work. I’ve been gone too long already. I’m catering an event late this afternoon.”
“I’d like to go,” Emily said, looking up at Colin, hoping to get a minute with Kaitlyn after it was over.
Colin nodded.
“Let me make a quick stop in the ladies room first.” Emily’s attention shifted to Maggie. “Maggs, would you like to come?”
“No thank you.”
~*~
While Emily was in one of the six stalls, she heard a toilet flush, then the click of high heels on the tile floor, followed by running water.
When she emerged from her stall, she noticed it was Kara St. James in the reflection of the mirror. Her suit jacket was draped over her arm as she dried her hands, exposing the white silk tank top she wore.
“Hello, Kara.”
Kara slipped on her jacket as her gaze raised to the reflection in the mirror. She quickly began buttoning it up. “Emily, isn’t it?”
But Kara wasn’t fast enough. Emily had already seen it. The red garnet necklace hung around Kara’s neck.
Had Patrick Murphy given it to her? Was she more than just his assistant? Was she his mistress?
“Lovely service, wasn’t it?” Kara asked. “Elise Murphy was a wonderful woman.”
“Yes, she was.” Emily offered a pensive smile as she washed her hands. “How is her husband handling the loss?”
“As well as can be expected.” Kara opened the washroom door, but stopped to face Emily before she stepped out. “Especially with you people accusing him of killing her.”
“We’re simply following the evidence.” Emily’s words trailed behind the woman as the door swooshed closed.
Emily stared into the mirror as she debated what to do. Should she mention the necklace? Or could she use what she just saw to expose the murderer? Kara obviously had some kind of relationship with Patrick. Had he given her the jewelry after ripping it from his dead wife’s neck?
On the other hand, Kara had admitted that she was acquainted with Jake through their connection at the Serenity Health Spa, so the two of them could easily have been in a relationship of some kind. Although, it couldn’t have been Jake who gave the necklace to Kara, not unless she had been at the cabin and escaped before Emily and Colin showed up, because he’d been in the hospital all
this time.
No matter how she spun it, it still did not point clearly at either Jake or Patrick. Unless…
Emily watched her reflection as her own eyes flew open at her next thought. Could Kara have been the one who tore the necklace off Elise in a jealous rage? Maybe even shot her?
She shook her head. Doubtful. She was still at Patrick’s office when Emily had followed him to the cabin. Or was she? Could she have managed to sneak out a different exit while Emily kept her eye on the silver Audi?
Emily decided to keep quiet about what she saw—for now. There were too many unanswered questions. She and Colin would have to figure out the best way to discover how the garnet necklace came into Kara’s possession and how they could use that information to find the real killer.
~*~
Peter hitched a ride to the cemetery with Emily and Colin. On the drive, Emily told Colin about seeing the necklace around Kara’s neck when they were in the restroom.
“She rushed to button up her jacket when she saw me, like she was trying to hide it,” Emily explained. “I thought it was odd she would wear a black jacket with a high collar on such a warm day.”
“Maybe it’s the only black outfit she owns,” Peter offered from the back seat.
Colin stopped at a red light, waiting to pull the Jeep onto the road that headed to the outskirts of town where the cemetery was located. “Wouldn’t Elise’s necklace have broken when it was pulled off? Are you certain it was the same necklace?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Emily said. “That pendant is very unique. Maybe she had it repaired—I don’t know. You can check the ATM video again, if you want.”
“I believe you.” Colin rested his forearm on the top of the steering wheel. “So, she’s wearing Elise’s jewelry, yet she covered it up.” He paused as he considered the implications. “That tells me the necklace meant something to her, but what?”
“Maybe it made her feel important,” Peter suggested.
“Or loved?” Colin supposed. The light changed and he accelerated.
“Or that somehow she had triumphed over Elise, like maybe it was a sign she would be the next Mrs. Murphy.” Emily twisted in her seat toward Colin and glanced back at Peter. “But hiding it like she did, that says no one was supposed to know she had it, except maybe the man who gave it to her.”
The Betrayal of Lies Page 15