The Pursuit of Lies (Book #4, Paradise Valley) (7 page)

“Sorry about them putting you in gen-pop, Colin.” Alex seemed sincerely sad for what happened to his friend. “Now that you’re in solitary you should be safe. It should only be until Monday.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Alex. This wasn’t your fault. Besides, you should see the other guys.” Colin tried to laugh a little, but he winced and reached up to touch the split in his lip.

Emily’s hand shot out toward Colin when she saw his pain, but she pulled back just as fast. “I wish I could make you feel better, but you heard the guard.”

“Yeah, I would kill to be able to hold you.” Colin gazed at Emily.

Alex frowned. “Poor choice of words, man.”

Colin’s eyes grew watery and he swallowed hard. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” Emily’s voice quivered. The seriousness of the situation deadened the air.

Alex leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. “Sorry, guys, but we don’t have much time. Let’s get down to business.” Alex smiled and did his best to change the atmosphere in the room. “Let’s figure out how we can obliterate every piece of evidence they have against you.”

Colin nodded. “Where do we start?”

Emily pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse. “Alex and I are going to have access to the evidence the police have gathered, but I need to hear your side directly from you—I need it all.”

“Can I take a lie detector test, Alex? I have no doubt I’ll pass it.”

“I could arrange one and it might help influence the jury at trial.” Alex crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. “Although, the prosecution will probably say that with your military training you know how to fake one.”

“You believe me, don’t you, Emily?”

“Right now, that’s not the point. For me to do my job I have to distance myself from my feelings for you, or they’ll cloud my judgment. Pretend I’m an innocent third party who’s just here to gather the facts on both sides.”

“I need you to believe me.”

“Please, Colin, don’t make this any harder on me than it already is.”

“Do I need to take a lie detector test to satisfy you, Emily? Because I will.”

“Of course not.”

Although, anything to help her be certain of his innocence couldn’t hurt. She focused on her notepad and began asking questions.

“Alex told me the Detective said the murder occurred sometime between seven p.m. and midnight. Where were you during that time, last Thursday night?”

“I was home, alone. Remember? I phoned you right before seven, the girls were coming over for supper.”

“Yes, but the prosecutor will say you could have called me from anywhere. Maybe even left your phone at home and used a pay phone.”

She remembered Maggie saying she and Camille had seen a red Jeep Wrangler, turning into the parking lot of the Hilton Hotel that night, with a dark-haired man and a blonde woman. She didn’t want to believe it could be Colin and Allison. Could he have called her from the hotel?

“I called you on my cell phone, from my apartment, while I was waiting for my dinner to cook in the microwave.”

“Let’s move on to the next question. Have you ever dated Allison Laraway?”

“No. You know I haven’t.”

Alex cleared his throat.

Colin glanced at him. “Well, I had drinks with her once, but it wasn’t a date.”

“What was it?” Emily put her pen down and gave him her full attention.

“She asked me to have drinks with her one night. I told her no.”

“Go on,” Emily said.

“Well, I went to Bar deNay’s by myself one evening, when you and I were just starting to date. One minute I was sitting alone on a stool having a Guinness and the next, she was perched on the seat beside me. She ordered a drink and we talked for a couple of minutes. That was it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a date,” Emily said.

Colin looked relieved.

“However, if the bartender remembers you two together, he might paint a different picture,” Alex added.

“Can you describe him? I’d like to talk to him.” Emily made a note to go and interview the bartender.

“Young white guy, spiky black hair, a few ear piercings, but I can’t imagine he’d remember anything. I’m sure he’s served hundreds of people since then.”

“The police say they have your fingerprints at Allison Laraway’s condo.”

“I don’t know how—I’ve never been to her condo. You have to believe me.”

“We won’t know all they have until Monday.” She turned to Alex. “Anything else they mentioned to you?”

“The other detective that was questioning you last night, he said there was a pot of red cyclamen on the table that had a florist’s note saying the flowers were from you. Did you send Ms. Laraway flowers?”

“No, I didn’t! I don’t know how they got delivered with my name on them.”

Emily made a note to find out who paid for the flowers. Either he really did do it, or someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like he did.

“The detectives mentioned something about a framed photo on the dresser in the bedroom, a picture of you and Allison smiling into the camera together.” Alex leaned forward and rested a forearm on the table. “When was that taken?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never posed for a photo with her.”

“Her having that particular picture framed and placing it in her bedroom implies an intimate relationship of some kind, don’t you think?” Alex’s tone sounded almost accusatory.

“I wouldn’t know,” Colin replied.

Did Alex believe in Colin’s innocence? Or was rehashing all this evidence giving him doubts, as well?

“Ernie’s working on getting copies of the security video for us,” Alex said. “Roberts swore it placed you at the murder scene during the window of time.”

“I don’t know how it could. I wasn’t there—I keep telling you!”

“Please, calm down.” Emily’s hand reached across the table, hesitating, again wanting to touch him. In all the time Emily knew Colin, she never saw a shred of fear in him—until now. “We don’t know how it could be, but somehow it is. We can’t dispute their evidence until we get all the facts and lay them out there to study.”

“You do believe me, don’t you Emily?”

The worried look in his smoky hazel eyes seemed to beg for her unwavering support. How could she offer him anything but hope? “Yes, of course.” This was not the time to admit any doubt, at least not to him.

“It looks bad, doesn’t it?” Colin’s solemn gaze flickered from Emily to Alex and back again.

“It does for now, until we find the truth.” She shifted in her chair toward Alex. “By the way, have you heard any results from the search of his apartment or his vehicle?”

“No,” Alex replied. “I expected to hear earlier this afternoon. Roberts assured me he’d call. Looks like I’ll need to follow up with him.”

“So they searched my apartment and my Jeep?” Colin asked. “I guess that’s to be expected, but what more did they hope to find?”

Now Emily turned somber. “The murder weapon.”

Chapter 8

As Emily turned into her driveway, she received a call from Alex.

“Finally got hold of Detective Roberts, and it’s not good.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat as she waited to hear the bad news. “What’d they find?”

“In the Jeep, they found blonde hairs, but we won’t know if they were Allison’s until they get DNA results back.”

“Those could be mine.”

“Let’s hope.”

“And the apartment?”

“That’s the bad part. Roberts said they found a knife that fits the wounds that killed Ms. Laraway.”

“Where did they find it?”

“In Colin’s kitchen. Apparently, it had been wiped clean, but there were some traces of blood where the blade meets the wooden handle. It’s at the lab being tested right now.”

“Oh, Alex. What is going on?” As if the police didn’t already have a mountain of evidence against Colin, now this crucial piece could solidify the case against him.

“This makes absolutely no sense, Em. Either Colin is guilty or someone is doing a spectacular job of framing him.”

“That has to be it.” It made sense. “He has way too much experience with crimes to leave all those clues, if he had done it.”

“I agree, and in those years on the force, he also put a lot of angry people in jail.”

“Do you think it was a person he arrested in San Francisco? Because he hasn’t been in Paradise Valley that long. Anyone he sent to jail here is probably still there.”

“A convicted felon from a case in San Francisco is the most likely, but we can’t discount the fact that it might be the friend or relative of a criminal he put away here.”

“Between the two, that’s going to be a long list, Alex. We need to get Colin thinking through his old cases. I’ll see if Ernie can use his police resources to put together that info. I seem to remember Colin telling me once that Ernie had friends at the SFPD.”

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“So when can you get in to see Colin again?” she asked. “We need to pick his brain, get him thinking through that list.”

There was no time to waste. If someone had framed Colin, they might slip out of town, never to be heard from again. On the other hand, perhaps that person would prefer to stick around and watch Colin get the punishment he’d set up for him.

“With him staying in isolation, it makes it a little more difficult,” Alex said. “It might not be ‘til Monday morning, before the arraignment, but I’ll let you know. Besides, that will give Ernie time to collect those names to help jog his memory.”

~*~

Emily phoned Ernie and explained the thoughts she and Alex had about the possibility of a frame job.

“It makes a lot of sense. I would never in a thousand years—no, make that a million years—believe Colin was capable of doing what they’ve accused that boy of, evidence or no evidence.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to hear that, Ernie. He’s pretty scared right now. With all that evidence, I think he’s afraid it’ll bury him and we won’t be able to dig him out.”

“We’re not going to let that happen, are we?”

“No, we’re not.” Confidence in Colin’s innocence was growing in Emily as she listened to Ernie’s unwavering support.

“What can I do?” he asked.

His willingness to jump in and do whatever it took put a slight smile on Emily’s face and gave her spirit a little lift. She asked him to put together a list of all of the cases Colin had worked, both in Paradise Valley and in San Francisco, especially where he got a conviction. She hoped that information could jog Colin’s memory of anyone who’d threatened to get even.

“I’m on it. It may take awhile, but I’ll have it for you as soon as I can.” Ernie paused and the tone of his voice deepened. “You tell that boy we’re gonna get to the bottom of this thing.”

“Thanks, Ernie.”

“You know, Emily, I love that boy like he was my own.” His voice cracked a bit and she could hear him clear his throat. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to that knucklehead.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “I appreciate your saying that.”

~*~

Emotionally exhausted, Emily trudged up the steps to her porch and went inside her bungalow. The clock in her entry read half past three. She kicked off her boots by the door and wandered into the bedroom. Setting her purse on the floor beside her bed, she shrugged out of her jacket and flopped face first onto her bed.

Though Isabel had let her sleep in that morning, the little rest she’d actually gotten was not enough to get her through the day. Her energy was waning and a long nap sounded glorious. She snuggled a pillow under her head and let out a long sigh, expecting to drift off to sleep.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, she decided maybe a hot bath would help her unwind. Perhaps she was too exhausted to sleep.

As the tub filled with bubbles and hot water, she put her hair up with a plastic claw. The warm water soothed her as she sank down into it, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. Visions of Colin sitting all alone in his depressing jail cell floated through her mind, and a twinge of guilt pricked her.

Here she was indulging herself in a warm bath and napping on her comfortable bed while he sat in jail, accused of murder—
wrongfully
accused, she reminded herself. She shook her head in an attempt to erase the last little bit of doubt. After having spoken with Ernie that afternoon, her faith needle was pushed from ninety-five to ninety-eight percent.

What was it going to take to make it a hundred?

Proof he did not do it.

“Yoo-hoo!” a female voice sang out from the front of the house, breaking into her thoughts.

Oh, my gosh, someone’s here.

“Emily, where are you?” the woman called out again.

That sounds like Camille
.

“Emily!” a second female hollered.

“Coming!” Emily recognized Camille and Maggie’s voices. She hastily climbed out of the tub and threw her terrycloth robe around herself. “Be right out!”

With water still dripping down her legs, Emily hurried to the entry and found her friends making themselves at home in her living room.

Seated on the sofa, Maggie looked up from the magazine she was flipping through. “Oh, were you takin’ a bath?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Emily pulled her robe a little tighter and tied the belt.

“No, it’s us who should be apologizing, barging in on you like this—I used the spare key you gave me.” Camille grinned guiltily and stood from the couch, walking to Emily, throwing her arms around her in a quick hug. “We were just so worried—we hadn’t heard anything from you today. Are you okay, Em?”

“It’s rough, but I think I’m doing all right.”

Maggie patted the cushion next to her. “Come sit and tell us all about it.”

“I think I’d like to go get dressed first.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll mop up this puddle you’ve left on your wood floor,” Camille said. “Take your time.”

Emily went to her room and returned a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a sweater. “That’s better.” She claimed the chair across from the sofa and faced her friends for what she suspected would be an interrogation. There was nothing Camille liked better than juicy news.

“Have you been to see Colin?” Maggie asked.