The Heart of Lies (6 page)

“Yes, my friend, your help is huge,” Isabel agreed, patting his shoulder.

“Before you go, I have one more question—a hypothetical question.” Emily looked at Isabel, who nodded for her to proceed.

Jethro’s eyes fixed on Emily’s with a serious stare. “Okay.” He drew out the word as he crossed his arms across his chest. “What’s your question—hypothetically?”

She paused for a moment and swallowed hard before speaking. “What if Evan had been involved in something where a gun was used and he hid the gun so it wouldn’t be found?”

“Go on,” Jethro encouraged.

“And let’s say,
hypothetically
, the gun was found by a friend. What should that
friend
do with the gun? Give it to the police?”

Jethro frowned. He turned and glanced at Isabel, then back to Emily. “Hypothetically?” he asked, raising his brows.

Emily nodded.

“Hypothetically, the
friend
should give it to the FBI. If the friend gave it to Isabel, for example, she could make sure it’s checked against any federal investigations first.”

“I agree—hypothetically, of course,” Isabel concurred.

Jethro explained that Isabel could also check with the CIA to see if the gun was used in any cases they were involved with. Then, if it was cleared by the FBI and CIA, the gun could then be turned over to the police to search for a match in any of their investigations.

“I see,” Emily replied, feeling overwhelmed.

“So, one could start with the federal agencies, then go local, or vice versa—either way,” Isabel said.

“Good to know,” Emily replied, “if I ever run across something like that.”

“So,” Jethro grinned, “can I get a look at this hypothetical gun?”

~*~

After Isabel and her friend left, Emily cleared the food and drinks, then raced back to her bedroom to change into her black jeans and thin black sweater. She pulled her hair up into a stretchy skull cap and tugged a curly dark brown wig on over it—just a girl getting ready to go to work. She stuck a pair of black framed glasses on and admired her handiwork in the bathroom mirror. Grabbing her purse and camera, she headed out.

Emily stuck her Bluetooth earpiece on as she drove to the Hilton Hotel to catch her mark in the act. The wife, her client, had found credit card charges to this hotel dated every Monday for the last month, when her husband claimed he was working late.

Emily had a friend, named Trudi, who worked the evening front desk at the hotel. Trudi had experience with a cheating husband, and she happily agreed to help Emily and temporarily loan out a hotel uniform jacket to catch the
scumbag
, as her friend put it.

On the drive over, Emily called Colin and told him all about her meeting with Isabel and Jethro.

“And then he asked to see the gun,” Emily said with a hint of disbelief.

“You didn’t really think he’d buy the hypothetical thing, did you?” Colin asked. “I wouldn’t have either.”

“No, it was more of a veil. I couldn’t exactly admit I had a gun that could have been involved in a crime, but I wanted his advice.” Emily pulled her car into the hotel’s nearly empty parking lot and turned the engine off.

“Are you going to turn it in?” he asked.

“Probably, but I want to discuss it a little further with Isabel.” Emily looked around for a silver Lexus SUV, as the wife had described, but it was nowhere to be seen. “I might as well. We’re not going to find out the whole truth until I do.”

Just then, the Lexus pulled in and parked. A middle-aged, balding man with a paunch climbed out and headed into the hotel, carrying a briefcase. Emily recognized him from the photo her client had provided.

He didn’t come with anyone. He must be meeting her at the room.

“Sorry, Colin, but I need to go.” Emily kept her eyes on the man.

She hung up, then stuck the small camera in her front jeans pocket. Emily glanced around the parking lot as she hurried to the hotel.

Entering the lobby, she saw Trudi standing behind the check-in counter, her red hair neatly pulled back in a French twist, dressed in her forest green hotel uniform. Catching her eye, Trudi nodded her head toward the bar. Emily hung back and peeked in. The man was talking to the bartender, ordering drinks to be brought up to the room perhaps.

Emily eased backward, around the corner and out of sight, before the man turned to come out of the bar. She inconspicuously waited for him to get on the elevator. Then she glanced around the lobby before ducking into the hotel bar to wait, giving the man time to get to his room and become involved in whatever questionable activity he had planned.

Standing in the doorway, she took a quick look around the dimly-lit room, searching for a small table where she could sit alone and wait. Her breath stopped as she caught a glimpse of Lucas, sitting at a table in the corner, with a dark-haired woman. The woman’s back was to Emily, and she couldn’t tell who she was, a potential investor maybe.

Lucas leaned over and whispered something in the woman’s ear and she looked to the side and laughed. It was Fiona.

Surprise mixed with anger sizzled just below the surface, sending heat to Emily’s face. Should she go and confront them? Were they carrying on behind Maggie’s back? Maybe it was just an innocent drink after work with a co-worker. Either way, she didn’t have time to deal with it right now, especially with the wig and glasses, but it would not be overlooked.

She checked her watch, then peeked again in Lucas and Fiona’s direction. She figured she should wait at least twenty minutes for her mark to settle in and his guest to arrive, so she had a few minutes to do a little reconnaissance. Feeling her wig and glasses to make sure her disguise was in place, she nonchalantly moved to a table next to theirs.

“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” a young waiter asked, taking Emily by surprise and putting her on the spot. Now she’d have to speak, which may expose her.

“No thanks, I’m waiting for a friend.” Emily raised her voice a few decibels and answered sweetly. She watched out of the corner of her eye for any hint of recognition by Lucas or Fiona, but there was none. The pair was speaking to each other in low tones, and Emily’s conversation with the waiter obliterated any chance of overhearing what they might have said.

The waiter left her alone as Lucas and Fiona stood. Lucas threw a fifty on the table and they walked out.
Either Lucas is a big tipper or they’ve been here awhile
.

Maggie taught an aerobics class at the Y on Monday evenings, so she’d never suspect Lucas would be with anyone else. Emily shook her head, trying to focus. Maybe it was all these wayward men she’d been tailing that made her hypersensitive to the situation.

Checking her watch again, she decided she’d left the man upstairs long enough—it was time to pay him a visit. She went to the front desk.

“Room three-ten,” Trudi muttered, looking around as she discreetly handed the hotel jacket to Emily.

“Did you see anyone come in who may have gone up to his room? A woman perhaps?” Emily asked, keeping her voice down.

“No, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have let someone in through the side door,” Trudi uttered lowly.

“All right. Thanks.” Emily turned toward the elevator.

“Go get him, girl.”

“Will do.” Emily smiled, grateful for the help, and moved to the elevator, waiting until she was inside to put the coat on.

Stepping off the elevator, dressed in the dark green hotel worker’s jacket, she walked down the hallway, the camera in her hand, reading the room numbers as she went. Emily noticed a room service tray outside of one of the other rooms with an empty champagne bottle and two glass flutes. She picked them up as a prop to get the perp to open his door.

Emily knocked on the door and called out, “Room service.”

She put her eye up to the peephole and saw the man walking toward her. She stepped back and gasped, trying to stifle a giggle.
Oh, my gosh, what is going on in there?

“Room service already delivered,” the man shouted back.

“This is champagne—on the house,” Emily replied, holding the full tray close up to the peephole where the man could only read the label.

Emily heard the door unlock, so she rushed to set the tray down on the floor. She whipped the camera out of her pocket and hit the
On
button. He opened the door a crack, which gave Emily the opportunity to shoulder it open all the way. He stumbled back a couple of steps.

There stood Harry Wykoski, attorney-at-law, father of six, married to the same woman for twenty years, wearing a sheer red negligee and matching high-heeled slippers with little fuzzy pom-poms on them.

Emily took the shot, the light flashing in his eyes, capturing his look of shock and terror. She struggled to contain the laughter that was bubbling up inside her.

“Are you alone in there, Harry?” She looked past him but didn’t see any movement.

“Who are you?” he demanded, as he snatched a white hotel robe from the back of a chair. “Why are you taking my picture? Gimme that.” He lunged forward and reached out to grab for her camera, but she stepped back and slipped it into the waistband of her jeans. She felt safe in assuming he wouldn’t come out into the hall after her.

“Uh-uh, Harry.” Emily chuckled and shook her head. “Your wife hired me to find out what you were doing at this hotel every Monday night. She thought you were having an affair. She’ll be happy to learn that isn’t the case.” Emily chuckled again.

“Please, lady, don’t show that to her,” he hollered.

“Look, Harry, your wife already paid me for this job—I have to. How about you come clean with her tonight? Before I give her the picture. Believe me, she’ll be thrilled you weren’t with another woman—you just like wearing women’s clothing.”

“I can’t do that, she won’t understand.”

“Enough of the lies, Harry. Don’t keep secrets—they’ll eat you up. Trust me, I know.”

“Please…” he begged.

“Do you love her, Harry?”

“Yes.”

“Then be honest with her. Tell her you love her, but tell her why you do this.” Emily gestured toward his outfit. “Work it out, because you can’t keep doing this and trying to hide it from her. The lies will destroy your family.”

Emily turned and ambled down the hallway. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours before I give her the photo,” she said over her shoulder.

CHAPTER 6

On the drive home from the Hilton, Emily phoned Isabel, describing what she’d witnessed in the hotel bar and her concerns for Maggie.

“I’m definitely going to do a background check first thing tomorrow,” Isabel asserted. “Just something in my gut tells me this guy is not what he seems.”

“You might be right. Let me know what you dig up. Until then, not a peep to Maggie.”

“Better not mention it to Camille either,” Isabel warned. “That resort presentation tomorrow night will give us an opportunity to watch him and Fiona in action.”

“Hey, were you able to talk your husband into going?”

“Alex actually was happy to go—said some of the partners at his firm were excited about going. He even suggested maybe we should buy one of the condos for ourselves, as a nice weekend retreat.”

“It would be nice for you two to be able to get away from your work once in a while. Perhaps you could even loan it out to a friend now and then,” Emily hinted.

“As much as I don’t trust Lucas,” Isabel said, “the thought of a weekend retreat does sound enticing.”

“It does, doesn’t it? Skiing and snowboarding in the winter, sipping hot cocoa by the big stone fireplace in the Lodge. Golf, tennis, swimming and boating the rest of the year,” Emily suggested.

“And don’t forget the hiking, biking, and picnics. Oh, and the upscale restaurant they’re planning to build up there,” Isabel added.

“Listen to us! We sound like we’re making a commercial to promote this resort,” Emily chided.

“I can see why this project could be a huge hit around here. There are a lot of people with money in this town just burning a hole in their pockets. No doubt they’ll be lining up to plunk down their twenty-five percent for a piece of that mountain, just as fast as Lucas can rake it in.”

“We’ll see tomorrow night, won’t we?”

“Say, how did your stakeout go tonight?”

Emily giggled.

“What happened?”

Just then Emily noticed another call coming in on her cell phone. “Hey, Colin’s calling me. Can I get back to you later?”

“No fair, you can’t leave me hanging like that!”

~*~

“Hello, Colin,” Emily answered, the lilt in her voice giving away how happy she was to hear from him.

“Hello, my hot lady PI.”

Colin’s deep, sexy voice always made Emily sigh. “What happened to smokin’ hot?” she joked.

Colin’s police detective buddy in New York City had dubbed her the
smokin’ hot lady PI
when they had flown there to interrogate a suspect a few months before. Somehow the nickname stuck for a while, until Colin’s departure to San Francisco.