3 The Chain of Lies (7 page)

“That’s a relief.”

“You really think I’m in danger?”

“I don’t want to scare you, Mr. Cooke. I simply want you to be safe.”

“I have Rocky here.” He patted the dog’s head. “I think I’m safe enough.”

“Did you happen to get his license plate number?” She could only hope.

“I’d like to tell you I did, but my eyesight ain’t what it used to be, even with these dang spectacles.” He pulled off his large wire-rimmed glasses and held them out to her briefly, then stuck them back on his face. “But I can tell you the color of the plate.”

“You mean it wasn’t local?”

“Naw, it was different.” His gaze lifted to the right as he apparently worked to remember. “It was white, no light blue maybe. I recall the letters were dark blue and there was a red bird in the left corner. I think there might have been flowers around it.”

“Around the license plate?”

“No, around the bird.”

Virginia!
Emily had lived in Virginia before she married Evan and moved west, and she immediately recognized the description. She wondered if it had been someone from DC, someone from the CIA or the FBI.

“That’s quite a memory you’ve got, Mr. Cooke.” She didn’t want to give away anything she was thinking, so she decided she’d better head back home. Rising to her feet, she thanked him for his time. “I should be going. If you ever see that man or the car again, please let me know. I’d sure like to know who it was.”

“Sounds like you don’t think it was just a random burglar.”

“Oh, it probably was.” Emily shrugged as casually as she could, hoping to conceal her suspicions. “Thanks again,” she said, backing toward the door.

As she left her neighbor’s house, she thought about phoning Colin, but there was nothing he could do for her from California. So, she decided to call Isabel instead.

“Hey, Em, what’s up?” Isabel asked.

“I just had a visit from the police. Seems someone was peeking into my windows this morning while I slept, and one of my neighbors called the cops.”

“Do the police know who it was?”

“No, not at all. I went and talked to my neighbor to see if he could tell me anything, but no, he doesn’t have a clue either. Although, he did give me a pretty good description of the perp, older guy, white or Latino, gray hair, and that his license plate was from Virginia.”

“Gray hair? Virginia? I wonder…”

“What?”

“No, it wouldn’t be.”

“Wouldn’t be who?” Emily had to know.

“Jethro.”

CHAPTER 6

Emily asked Isabel if she was free around noon on that Sunday afternoon and perhaps would like to take a peek into the boxes in the storage unit. Isabel jumped at the chance. Emily promised to swing by and pick her up.

After Emily made sure all her doors and windows were secure and her laptop hidden, she drove to Isabel’s, keeping an eye out for anyone following her
.

Am I going to have to be checking my rearview mirrors forever?

As she drove, her mind wandered to the unsettling events she was dealing with, namely the tail and the repeated break-ins. More and more it seemed it was probably the same person. It wasn’t like they were trashing the place, but things had been moved and she could tell they were searching for something. Evan had been dead for a year, so why was someone searching for something in her home now?

Jethro.

Was he the missing link? It seemed to fit.

The tail and the break-ins started after Isabel connected her with Jethro. As a favor, when Emily had become desperate to find out Evan’s real identity, Isabel had introduced her to Jethro, someone she had known for years in the FBI. He had recently retired and was now living nearby in Boise.

Isabel had brought Jethro to Emily’s home one evening to talk about Evan. Emily had shown him the photo from the safe deposit box, and had asked him to help her find out who Evan really was—and who the mysterious brunette cuddled up to her husband was. That was the night she had mentioned a
hypothetical
gun to him, although everyone, including Jethro, knew it wasn’t as hypothetical as she had intended it to be.

Suspicions were all she had. How could she prove he was the culprit? And why?

Emily pulled into Isabel’s driveway and honked a couple of times.

“Hey, Em,” Isabel greeted as she climbed in the car. “Thanks for inviting me. You can’t imagine how curious I’ve been since you mentioned the storage locker.”

“Hopefully we can find something useful, something giving us a lead in Evan’s murder.” Emily backed out of the driveway.

“I’m all for that.” Isabel fastened her seatbelt.

“Were you serious about suspecting Jethro as my stalker?” Emily drove down the wide winding streets of the upscale neighborhood.

“The description fits.”

“Yes, but it could describe a number of guys. Even your husband is Latino with graying hair.”

“True, but Alex and I don’t have Virginia plates.”

“That’s a good point.”

“If it is him, though, I wonder why he’d be tracking you.”

“The gun we told him about?” Emily wished she’d kept the gun a secret if she’d known it would cause her this much trouble, but she couldn’t get away from the fact that Evan had hidden it in the safe deposit box for a reason.

“Maybe.”

“Let’s hope something in the files will tell us.” Emily peeked one more time into the mirrors but saw nothing suspicious.

Arriving at the outdoor storage facility, Emily unlocked the padlock and pulled open the door. Armed with flashlights, Emily began with the boxes she hadn’t yet scoured, and Isabel agreed to recheck the ones she had.

Isabel grabbed a hair band out of her jeans pocket and pulled her long, dark hair back into a ponytail. File by file, document by document, with flashlights in hand, the two spent the next couple of hours reading through every piece of paper they found.

“Hey, I think I found something.” Emily held up a few sheets of paper stapled together.

Isabel stepped in for a closer look. “What is it?”

“It looks like a background check on Delia. Funny, it wasn’t in a file, just loose between a couple of folders.”

“I wonder if Delia knew Evan had checked up on her,” Isabel remarked.

Emily shone her flashlight on the document and read through it, flipping the pages as she went on to the next one. Isabel read with her, over her shoulder. “It says her full name is Delia Banderas McCall. Banderas…why does that sound familiar?” Emily looked to Isabel, but she did not reply. “Banderas must be her maiden name, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Isabel replied slowly. Her eyes seemed to be looking blankly off into the distance, lost in thought.

“What’s wrong, Isabel? You’re so quiet.”

“Jethro.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Remember I told you we would call my friend
Jethro
, because I couldn’t tell you his real name?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to promise to keep this between us—”

“All right, already. Spit it out.” Emily’s impatience was showing.

“His real name is Jerry Banderas. Which would mean—”

“He’s related to Delia somehow.”

Suddenly Emily remembered why the name sounded familiar—Evan’s note. He had said the woman in the photo was Natalia Banderas, and he had blamed himself for her death. That would mean Delia could be somehow related to Natalia, as well.

The note also warned Emily to trust no one. Could she trust Isabel enough to tell her about it?

It was likely already too late to be asking that question. After all, Isabel was here, going through Evan’s things with her. Since Emily had learned Isabel had been Evan’s handler, and that she had moved to Paradise Valley to help him, she contemplated if she should take another leap of faith, even if it was just a small one.

Emily took the leap. “You said you’ve known Jethro, or Jerry, for a long time.”

Isabel nodded.

“Did he have a daughter named Natalia?”

Isabel’s eyes widened. “Yes. As a matter of fact, he used to talk about her all the time. In fact, he had two daughters. How did you know?”

“Two daughters?” Emily’s mind raced ahead of Isabel’s, not stopping to answer her question. “Maybe the other one is Delia.”

“She could be. I don’t recall him mentioning her by name. She was older than Natalia. But how did you know that?” Isabel’s eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity.

“Evan told me.”

“When?”

“In a note I found in his safe deposit box.”

“When were you planning to tell me about that?”

Emily stared her friend in the eyes. “I’m not sure I was.”

“What does that mean?”

“In the note, Evan warned me to trust no one.”

“Not even me? I’m your best friend.” Isabel put her hand on Emily’s arm.

“Yes, my friend who’s been lying to me for the past five years.” Emily pulled away.

“I wasn’t keeping my identity secret to hurt you. I was trying to protect you.”

“And now you’ve brought Jethro into the mix and all hell is breaking loose!” Her arm waved around for dramatic emphasis, the papers flapping in her hand.

“If you recall,” Isabel lowered her voice and spoke in a calm, serious tone, “I asked you if you wouldn’t be happier to simply remember the great marriage you had, let this investigation drop, and get on with your life. You insisted you absolutely had to know. That’s why I brought my friend into it—as a favor to you. I had no idea he might be involved.”

Emily crossed her arms and shifted her weight, taking a moment to absorb Isabel’s words. “I guess you’ve got me there. This whole mystery has me so wound up. I’m sorry. You’re right—it was me who pushed it.”

“I’m not your enemy, Em. I’m here to help you, if you’ll let me.”

Emily looked at Isabel, then down at the papers in her hand, pausing to consider her options. She could continue to keep things from Isabel, continue to have her suspicions about her, or she could lay it all out there.

“Okay, no more secrets.” She pulled the note out of her purse and handed it to her friend.

Isabel moved to the sunlight at the opening of the unit. She unfolded the paper and took her time reading the message aloud, softly.

“Dearest Emily,

If you’ve found this note, it means I’m dead. I hope you’ll forgive me for keeping things from you. You may have figured out Evan Parker was not my real name. My name is David Gerard. Again, I’m sorry.

“The gun belongs to someone who tried to kill me once, after moving to Paradise Valley. I wrestled it away from him before he got away, but I don’t know who it was. He must have succeeded on a second attempt or you wouldn’t be reading this note. I hid the gun because I had hoped to track him by it. Sorry I never told you, I didn’t want to worry you.

“The woman in the photo was a girlfriend when I worked for the Agency. Her name was Natalia Banderas. She was a natural history student at the Sorbonne that I met at a café in Paris. She was killed in France when a case I was working on went south and she was caught in the crossfire.

“I blame myself for her death. I should have known better than to get involved with a civilian. That’s why I left the Agency when I fell for you, Emily.

“I figure the gun could belong to someone seeking revenge for her death or it could be related to another case—it’s hard to say. I don’t know how they found me, but if you’re reading this note, it means they did. Keep these things hidden. Trust no one. I love you, Emily.
 

Evan, aka David Gerard.”

When Isabel was finished reading, she slowly refolded the paper and handed it back to Emily. “That explains a lot.”

~*~

Emily dropped Isabel off at home and agreed to come back for dinner that evening. Isabel wanted to talk more about what to do regarding Jethro and how to find out what he was really up to.

Pulling into her own driveway, Emily glanced up and down the sunny tree-lined street for anything suspicious before heading inside. Everything looked normal. She stepped onto her porch and took a second look before unlocking her door and going in.

Once inside, she clicked the lock into place, kicked off her shoes and headed for the bathroom. She paused at the bathroom door and decided to take a quick look around her house and make sure the back door was locked, as well. With her pistol held low, she skulked from room to room, making sure it was all clear.

A long, hot soak in a tub full of bubbles was all she wanted right now—something to relax her and help her worries float away, at least for a while. As she turned the water on and poured in the liquid bubbles, her phone beeped, alerting her to a new text.

The message was from Maggie, telling her what a great time they were having, and she had attached a photo she must have had someone else take. It was a picture of Maggie and Molly on the beach, in their bikinis, lying on colorful towels with big smiles on their faces.