the box out of its space and laid it on the table in the middle of the room. Opening the lid, her gaze ran over all the items in the box—the passports, a few thick wads of cash, and some Euros. Moving the other items aside, she partially uncovered the gun. She glanced around the perimeter of the ceiling, searching for video cameras as inconspicuously as possible. There were two, in opposite corners.
She placed her sizeable leather handbag on its side, over the metal box, and surreptitiously slid the gun into it, ever mindful of the cameras. The rest of the contents, she decided, would keep for another day. She closed the lid, stuck the box back in its hole and closed the door on it.
Once she was in her car, she locked her doors and gingerly slipped the gun into a cloth bag and tied off the drawstring. She checked the GPS monitor that was wedged on her console, but she saw no movement of the tracking device. Either Jethro was still at his condo, or at least his car was, or he had found the device and stashed it somewhere in the parking garage. Before pulling out of the bank’s lot, she glanced around and checked her mirrors again.
Feeling fairly assured she was not being followed, she headed to Isabel and Alex’s house. Within minutes, she pulled into their high-end neighborhood with its expansive, neatly trimmed lawns and wide meandering streets. As Emily rounded a curve, the Martínez’s spacious two-story brick and stucco home came into view. She pulled into the long driveway, catching a glimpse of Isabel bounding down the brick steps.
“Emily!” Isabel called out as her friend climbed out of her car.
Emily slung her heavy leather handbag over her shoulder as Isabel approached.
“Do you have the gun?” Isabel kept her voice low.
Emily nodded and patted her purse. “Right here.”
Isabel linked her hand through Emily’s arm and walked her to the house, glancing over her shoulder, up and down the street. “Let’s get inside.” As they went in the house, Isabel turned again and looked toward the street.
“Is Alex here?” Emily asked as they moved from the entry to the kitchen at the back of the house.
“No, he had a basketball game at the Y with some of his lawyer buddies this morning.”
“He’ll be back by kickoff time, won’t he?” Emily asked, setting her purse down with a thunk on the round, glass-top dinette table.
“Of course. He wouldn’t miss Boise State’s first game. Maggie will be there, too, she told me.” Isabel opened a package of Nutter Butter cookies and laid a couple handfuls of them on a plate. “I hope she brings some photos to share.”
“I haven’t seen her since she and Molly got back from Hawaii. I’m glad she’s coming. I know she hates football, but she does love a good party.”
“Yes, she does.” Isabel set the plate of cookies on the table. “Will Colin be there?”
“That’s the plan.”
“You don’t sound so sure.” Isabel turned and went back to the kitchen.
“Today is his first day back on the job and he’s already been handed a case.”
“Are you talking about the body they found in the river last night?”
Emily pulled out a chair and sank down onto it. “How did you know?”
“Heard it on the news this morning.”
Emily heard Isabel open a cupboard, then the clinking sound of her pulling a couple of mugs out.
“They said she was a young Asian woman, late teens or early twenties—you want a cup of coffee, Em?”
“That’d be great, thanks. On the news this morning, huh? That was fast. But yes, that’s the case.” Emily pulled the fabric bag out of her purse and laid it gently on the glass table, next to the plate of Nutter Butters.
“Poor woman. I wonder what happened.”
“I have my suspicions.” Emily picked up a cookie and took a bite.
“You do? How are you involved in this?” Isabel carried two cups of steaming coffee to the table.
“Colin was at my house when he got the call last night about someone finding the body. We both went to the scene.”
Isabel took a seat at the table and poured cream into her mug. “That must have put a damper on your romantic evening.”
“That’s for sure. So did my nosey next-door neighbor and the exploding potatoes.” Emily grimaced before sticking the rest of the cookie in her mouth.
Isabel laughed, sending a spray of coffee across the table. Her hand flew up to her mouth. “Sorry about that,” she