the one who’s been searching for something in my house? What if she’s not who she says she is?”
“Wow. What on earth would make you say that?”
Emily went silent. She thought of the note again that Evan had left her. In it he had told her that if she was reading the note it meant he was dead and she was to trust no one. Those words still echoed in her mind. She had learned enough about Colin Andrews to feel confident she could trust him, but Isabel was another story.
Isabel Martínez worked for the FBI as a financial analyst, but Emily was beginning to suspect she was actually more than that. The two had met over five years ago at a cooking class that Camille was teaching, shortly after Isabel moved to Paradise Valley from back east, or at least that’s the story she told. Isabel had met Alex in Paradise Valley and married him soon after.
The cooking class was where they met Maggie too, and the four of them had become fast friends. But since finding Evan’s note, warning her to trust no one, she wondered if Isabel had intentionally signed up for that class to meet Emily and insinuate herself into her and Evan’s lives.
As Emily had unraveled the truth about her late husband, she’d learned of his past involvement in the CIA, and more about his murder. She had recently discovered that his shooting might have been carried out because someone wanted to exact revenge on him as payback for a young woman’s death.
She wondered how much of her suspicions she should divulge to Colin. He’d probably just think her paranoid. Colin didn’t know all that Emily had uncovered. She hadn’t told him about the ominous note she’d found in the safe deposit box, or the totality of the box’s contents.
“Emily?” Colin waited for her answer. “What’s going on?”
She didn’t want to go into all of it right then and there, but she knew she had to say something in response to his question. “Let’s just say with all that’s been happening lately, the black car, the break-ins, and with Isabel’s FBI friend Jethro poking around, I’m feeling a bit suspicious and uneasy.”
“That’s understandable. But suspicious of Isabel or of Jethro?”
“Both. You probably think it’s silly.”
“No, I wouldn’t say it was silly. As a cop, I know you have to sometimes trust your gut when nothing else makes sense. If you don’t want to leave the boxes with Isabel at this point, then you’d probably better leave them where they are while you hunt for a better place to hide them.”
“I appreciate the support.” Emily slid off the stool and went to the refrigerator to start her salad. “Still, I feel uneasy.”
“You’re watching for a tail, aren’t you?”
“I am, don’t worry.”
She pulled the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers out of the vegetable drawer.
“What’s all the noise?” he asked.
“The girls are coming over for our weekly potluck and I’m making the salad. I was just pulling the fixings out of the fridge.”
“Say hello for me.”
“Speaking of the girls, I did find something in one of Evan’s boxes that I think might have to do with Isabel.” Emily tugged a salad bowl out of the cupboard and cradled the phone against her shoulder so she could rinse the vegetables off and begin chopping them on the cutting board.
“What was it?”
“A little leather address book. It had the name Izzy Handler in it, with a phone number.”
“Izzy Handler? Who’s that?”
“I think Izzy Handler might be Isabel.” Emily chopped the first tomato and tossed the pieces in the salad bowl on top of the torn lettuce.
“You think Izzy is a nickname for Isabel?” he questioned. “It does make sense.”
“Emily! Hello!” came a female voice wandering through the house.
“Hi, Isabel. It’s good to see you.” Emily wiped her hands on a towel and uncradled the phone. “I’m on the telephone,” she whispered, giving Isabel a quick one-arm hug, the phone still in her hand.
Isabel was holding a tray of barbecued chicken pieces covered with foil. Although Emily couldn’t actually see the chicken, the savory, barbecued aroma was unmistakable.
“Colin, Isabel’s here and I’m sure Camille is not far behind. Call me when you get home, okay?”
“All right. I know when I’m not wanted.” He laughed. “I love you, Emily.”
“I love you, too.” She clicked her phone off and tossed it in her purse.
“So that’s where we are, is it?” Isabel said, setting her platter down on the counter. “He finally said those three