Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 02.5 - The Edge of Lies (5 page)

Then there was Abby Randall. Wearing hardly any makeup, she had that girl-next-door natural beauty, with her chestnut hair layered just above the shoulders and deep green eyes. She claimed to have the most perfect husband in the world, and no one would have guessed she was the stay-at-home mother of five. Her reason to take the class was to get out of the house and do something for herself for a change.

The last in the group was Isabel Cortez, the mysterious woman from the shadows. With waves of long deep-brunette hair and dark chocolate eyes, Isabel explained that she worked as a financial analyst for a federal agency in Boise. She was dating an attorney in town and they were soon to be married—her first, his second. Her fiancé loved to cook, she said, and she hoped they could have fun doing it together.

There was something familiar about Isabel, but Emily couldn’t put her finger on it. Perhaps they had met somewhere before, although, it wasn’t likely in her line of work. Emily didn’t have much cause to rub shoulders with lawyers and federal employees.

Once all the introductions were out of the way, Camille dove into the class. She announced she was going to teach them how to make a simple lasagna to start off, and she had the marinara sauce simmering on one of the large stoves. They would be able to take it home in a disposable foil pan to cook for dinner the next night, she said.

The women followed Camille’s instructions, laughing and chatting away as they worked. Noodles, sauce, and cheese ended up everywhere it seemed. Emily hoped there was enough in her pan to make a decent lasagna.

As the evening wore on, her cheeks began to ache. Emily couldn’t remember when she had laughed so much. She liked these girls and they seemed to enjoy her too. Although her prime objective for this class was to improve her culinary skills, she sensed she was connecting with these women, hoping that connection would turn into friendships over the next five classes.

Food and good company, it was a perfect way to spend an evening—that is, until Emily’s pan somehow ended up face down on the concrete floor.

~*~

Emily giggled at the memory of dropping that pan of lasagna. She wished she could say that her skills in the kitchen had improved vastly from that night, but no. She was still struggling to keep up with her friends in that department.

Sometimes she thought it a miracle that Evan hadn’t died from hunger long before the tragic night that ended it all. He’d always been so supportive of her, always willing to try whatever creation she’d attempted to prepare. It wasn’t all bad, she had to admit. There were at least a few times that she managed to cook something actually edible, maybe even tasty.

Emily sighed and crawled under the duvet. She ran her hand over the pillow that used to be Evan’s. It had lost the smell of him long ago. But tonight the memory of him was alive and running amok within the pages of his journal.

She opened it up and picked up where she had left off.

~*~

Sitting at the computer in his office, Evan did everything he could think of to run down the location of the bank woman’s son. Kade had no credit cards, no checking account, and no car. He used a burner phone on occasion, but nothing Evan could pinpoint. There were very few ways to track this target down, except through his personal contacts. This case wasn’t as exciting as the work he was used to, but he almost felt back in the game.

After vigorously questioning the short list of friends that Kade’s mother had provided, Evan was able to squeeze out a tip he could follow up on. Under the shade of a locust tree, he parked the Avenger outside of a residence where he suspected Kade might show up.

The small, dilapidated house had peeling white paint and sat on acreage on the outskirts of town. Evan ventured on foot toward the house. After he knocked, the familiar click of a gun cocking on the other side of the door sent him whipping to the side. With his hand resting on the pistol he had shoved in the back of his waistband, he waited for the door to open.

“What do you want?” a male voice growled when he pulled the door open, only a few inches, as if he was trying to block anyone from seeing in.

Evan guessed he was mid-twenties. Tall and unshaven, the man had wild hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks—he smelled as if he hadn’t bathed or brushed his teeth in at least that long too.

Cautiously, Evan leaned toward the opening so the man could see him better, keeping his body back in case the guy decided to fire his weapon through the flimsy wooden door.

“Hey, I’m looking for Kade. Is he here?” Evan asked in a friendly way.

“I don’t know any Kade,” the man grunted.

Evan’s thumb stroked his gun. “That’s funny. Word has it you and Kade are mates. I really need to find him.”

“I said he’s not here. Are you deaf?” He snarled, starting to push the door shut, but couldn’t. He looked down to see that Evan had wedged the toe of his boot in the door.

The skunky aroma of marijuana drifted out of the house. Evan held back his reaction, hoping to calm the man down some. “Look, mate, I’m not a cop.”

“Then who are you?”

“A friend of Kade’s mum. She’s in trouble. She needs his help.”

“What kind of help could that loser be?”

“Do you know where he is or not?” Evan worked to keep his voice even. He wanted nothing more than to knock the door down and put the business end of his weapon in this guy’s mouth, make him talk, but he couldn’t do that anymore—regular society had rules about that sort of thing.

The guy told him of a couple of other places where Kade might be. The first lead turned out to be a dead end, so Evan decided to stake out the other suggested spot, a head shop that sold Spice in a neighboring town.

As Evan drove to the Spice shop, he watched a set of headlights in his rearview mirror. Checking for a tail was like breathing for him. The vehicle had stayed behind him from the house in the country all the way into town. Driving into the downtown area, he noticed the dark car turn off onto a side street, and he shook his head. Probably nothing more than a coincidence.

He pulled up across the street from the head shop. Kade’s mother had given Evan a high school photo of her son, the most recent one she had, even though he was almost twenty-five now. Evan picked up the picture off the passenger seat and studied it, wondering how much the kid might have changed over the years and what he would look like today.

He knew what to focus on—the eyes didn’t change.

Evan crossed the street and stepped inside the dimly lit shop. The pungent smell from the synthetic drug hung heavy in the air. Glancing around, he tried to get the lay of the place as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

A large bald man covered in tattoos stood behind the counter, wearing a black logoed t-shirt and worn-out jeans. He looked more like a bouncer than a sales clerk.

“I’m looking for Kade. Have you seen him tonight?” Evan blinked as the smoke began to sting his eyes.

“You a cop?” the burly man asked.

“No. I just need to find him. His mum’s in trouble, needs his help.” Evan glanced around, seeing a few other guys at the back of the place.

“Sorry, haven’t seen him,” the clerk said, throwing his gaze over toward the group.

“Thanks, man.” Evan acknowledged the subtle tip with a nod, and he approached the others, asking if they’d seen Kade as he flashed the old photo to them. Watching their responses to the picture, Evan caught a momentary flicker of recognition in one set of dark eyes. It was Kade.

“Don’t lie to me, man,” Evan said, grabbing Kade by the arm, staring into his unshaven face. His oily, unruly curls were longer than those in the old photo. Even in the dimness, the only light from a neon sign on the wall, Evan could see in Kade’s eyes that he was under the influence.

“Leave me alone,” Kade spat, yanking his arm away as he pushed Evan to the side to run past him.

Instinctively, Evan clamped his hand around Kade’s forearm and twisted it hard behind his back, pushing him down to his knees. “You can go the hard way or the easy way.”

Kade struggled to get loose and cried out in pain as Evan pulled his arm up higher on his back.

One of the other men jumped Evan from behind and Kade came up swinging. Evan took a few punches to the face from Kade, as he momentarily struggled with the one on his back. Once he flipped the man off his back, he swiftly delivered a couple of well-placed kicks and a few right crosses, and within seconds both men were laid out on the floor. Evan faced the third man, challenging him with a stare, but the guy chose to back up.

The beefy clerk bolted around from behind the counter. “You said you weren’t a freakin’ cop!” he roared as he came at Evan.

Evan whipped out his gun and drew on him, wanting only to hold him off. “I’m not a cop, just doing a favor for a friend, so back off.” Motioning with his gun, Evan signaled the other man who had been with Kade to come around to the front of him.

The burly clerk and the other man both raised their hands in surrender as they backed away. Evan pulled Kade to his feet and pushed him, head first, through the door to the street.

“I wish I had a bad-ass friend like that.”

Evan smiled as he overheard the comment by someone in the head shop, as the door swung shut.

He shoved his gun back in his waistband as he marched Kade across the street to his car. He pushed the man into the passenger seat. “I was told your probation officer is looking for you, so I can take you to your mum’s or to the police station—your choice.”

“My mom’s, I guess,” the scraggly young man grunted.

Evan’s fist smacked hard against Kade’s right cheek and he was out cold. He couldn’t take the chance this guy would hop out and run at the first red light. His mother had paid Evan to deliver her son, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

~*~

By the time Evan returned home, Emily was already in bed. She moaned softly and turned her body to him as he climbed in beside her. The moonlight shining in the bedroom window illuminated her face and he could see her take notice of the signs of the scuffle he’d been in.

She rolled onto her side. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Evan said. “A guy got the jump on me from behind. With my training, I never should have let it happen. Rookie mistake.”

She lightly touched his cheek, and he fought wincing as she grazed the abrasion on his cheek. Instead, he took her hand and kissed the palm.

“Should I be worried?”

“Of course not, love.” Evan slid his hand over her waist and drew her closer, kissing the curve of her neck, which he knew would arouse her senses, distract her. “If it was anything more than that, I’d tell you. You believe me, don’t you?”

He could sense his ardor was making it hard for her to think.

“Of course,” she muttered breathlessly.

He kissed her deeply, his hands roving over her body, and any further thoughts, other than making love, floated out the window to join the moonlight.

Chapter 7

Laying there, in the dimly lit bedroom she used to share with Evan, after immersing herself in his words, Emily swore she could almost feel his lips on her own. She traced a finger across them as if the kisses were still lingering there, a small shudder dancing up her neck.

“Oh, Evan,” she murmured as she slid lower down on the bed. “Why didn’t you just tell me what was going on? Maybe things would have turned out differently.”

But they hadn’t, and Emily was so glad for the friendships she had formed with the women from her cooking class. She was certain she couldn’t have gotten through the loss of her husband without them.

The thought took her back to the night of the final cooking class. The women could have easily parted ways after that night, but thankfully they didn’t. She remembered the suggestion she’d made, the one that had kept them in each other’s lives at least once a week.

~*~

Emily excitedly looked forward to the cooking classes each week. It was a chance to get together with her new friends—but sadly, this would be the last class.

“We’ve had so much fun here, why does it have to end?” Maggie moaned, feigning a sad face.

Emily was glad she wasn’t the only one thinking that. She used the opportunity to make a suggestion. “Why don’t we keep getting together?” She glanced around the room. “We could take turns hosting a potluck dinner.”

“And keep trying new recipes,” Camille added.

The others were quick to agree—all except Abby Randall. With five kids and a husband who was often out of town, she already had her hands full with soccer practices, school activities, and piano recitals, she said. Taking one night a week for the last several weeks had been a logistical challenge and she didn’t think she could keep it up.

“We can have a theme each week,” Maggie said, her bright blue eyes lighting up.

So, with the three of them onboard, only Isabel was left. She was not at the last class because she and her fiancé, Alex, had decided to forego a big wedding and elope, going on a short honeymoon to Cozumel over a long weekend. She was now Mrs. Isabel Martínez. Once they gave her a few weeks to settle in, the girls hoped the new bride would want to continue as much as they did.

~*~

One morning, a couple of weeks later, Emily dropped a few hints over breakfast that maybe she and Evan should invite some people over for dinner some time, secretly hoping he too would begin to develop a few friends in town.

He seemed uncomfortable with the idea, quirking his mouth as he thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“I’m dying to have you meet the girls.”

Evan shot her a look, his eyebrows raised. “All at once?”

“No, silly, one at a time.” She sipped her coffee as she eyed him. “I was thinking Isabel and Alex. She’s really smart and funny. And from what she’s told me about her new husband, I think you two would hit it off. Why don’t we invite them over?”

He stared at her for a moment and pinched his lips. “All right then, love,” he finally said, “if it’s that important to you. How about this Friday night?” He pulled out his Smartphone to check his calendar. “I’ll clear my schedule. It’ll give us a chance to show off all the work we’ve done in the garden.”