with something under his arm that looked like a small laptop. He glanced around and made a beeline to Isabel as soon as he spotted her. “Hey, Izzy.”
“Emily, Colin, this is Buzz. He’s a wizard with technology.”
They exchanged pleasantries and Buzz helped Isabel pin the daisy-shaped brooch in place on the jacket of her navy blue pantsuit at an angle that would most advantageously capture Jerry’s position in bed. “To turn it on, just twist the stem of the daisy to the right.”
“Let’s test it.” Isabel twisted the stem and walked around the store, commenting on different items, and Buzz watched and listened on the monitor.
“Good?” Isabel asked.
“Roger that. Twist it back the other way to turn it off,” Buzz instructed as she walked back toward him. “I’ll be out in my van waiting to see it come on.”
He tucked the monitor under his arm again and began to walk away. Stopping short, he spun back around. “Oh, by the way, Izzy,” he said, shaking his pointer finger at her, “I was supposed to tell you something. Guess your phone’s been off ’cause of the hospital, but Benson’s been trying to reach you. The fingerprint results are back. Give him a call.” With a light wave of his hand, Buzz ambled out of the building.
“Let me step outside and call him. It’ll just take a sec.” Isabel hurried out as the front doors whooshed open.
“That was fast,” Colin said.
Emily slung her bulky handbag over her shoulder and moved toward the door. “I wonder what they found.”
Colin followed her out into the foyer. “We’ll know in a minute.” He gestured toward Isabel putting her phone away as she walked back inside.
“Well?” Emily asked impatiently.
“The gun belongs to Jerry Banderas.” Isabel turned and went to the row of elevators.
“According to the note Evan left in the safe deposit box, Jerry had to have been the one who attempted to kill him that night, not very long after we moved to Paradise Valley. If Evan hadn’t wrestled the gun away from him, Jerry certainly would have shot him to death back then.” Emily nervously shifted her purse and ran her fingers through one side of her curly mane. “He’s probably the one who eventually did murder Evan.”
“Looks that way.” Colin reached over and pushed the up arrow for one of the elevators.
“Isabel, you need to put the screws to that man,” Emily ordered, grabbing her friend’s arm. “We need him on tape admitting what he did.”
Colin glanced at Isabel and she met his gaze, mirroring his look of puzzlement and concern at Emily’s stress level.
“Don’t worry, Em.” Isabel patted her hand, then pried Emily’s fingers off her arm. “I’ll do my best.”
“I want to go in with you.” Emily’s voice took on a nervous intensity. “I’m afraid you’ll go too easy on him. He’s been your friend for a long time and he’s dying, so how can you be expected to treat him like any other murder suspect?”
“I will. I promise.”
“Let her do her job.” Colin wrapped an arm loosely around Emily’s shoulders. “Jerry may be her friend, but Evan was her friend, too. You’re going to have to trust her.”
Emily looked into Isabel’s deadly serious face, searching her dark eyes. Isabel stared back and nodded at Emily, reaching out and taking her friend’s trembling hand. “I won’t let you down, Em.”
Emily paused, processing Isabel’s response. “We’re in agreement then. Isabel will be the only one to go inside Jerry’s room—that is, until she signals us to come in.”
The elevator tone dinged and one set of doors slid open. “After you, ladies.”
They boarded the elevator and rode it up to the fourth floor. Stepping off, they all turned to the right and marched down the corridor, stopping right before reaching Jerry’s room.
Isabel turned the stem of her daisy pin to the right. “Buzz, I’m on,” she said, dipping her chin toward her lapel as she spoke. Her eyes flashed to Emily and Colin. “Wish me luck, guys.” She stood up straight, pulled in a quick breath, and gently pushed the door open.
~*~
“Good morning, Jerry,” Isabel said in a light and friendly voice.
“Isabel.” Jerry tried to pull himself up on his pillows. “Is this a social call? Or—”
“Some of both. How are you feeling this morning?” Isabel moved to the foot of his bed, making sure she had a good angle for the camera.
“A little better.”
“You look better. What do the doctors say?”
“Oh, you know doctors. I could have a month, I could have