While going through his closet, she had come upon a slender silver key that turned out to belong to a safe deposit box at a local bank. She had been shocked that he had kept secrets from her and angry that he had lied about his past.
Gaining access to the safe deposit box, she’d examined the contents and found three passports with different names—Michael Boerner, Sean McDonough, and Alexi Krishenko. She’d also discovered a large bundle of cash, some Euros, a mysterious brass key, a gun, and an old photo of Evan with a pretty, young, dark-haired woman. He had his arm intimately around her shoulders and they were smiling into the camera. Of all the things she’d found in the box, the photo had packed the biggest wallop. Emily had removed the key and the photo from the metal box and left the rest at the bank for safe keeping.
“I still haven’t been able to find out who the woman in the photo is or what the key unlocks,” Emily replied.
Months after Evan’s death, Emily had been pulled into one of his old cases and had taken over as the investigator. She’d worked the case, but it had dragged her deeper into her own puzzling mystery. The items in Evan’s safe deposit box clearly spoke of another life, a life he had kept from her, leaving her to wonder who he really was and if their marriage had been one big lie.
“You know, I did offer to help you with that.”
Isabel had suggested that on numerous occasions, but Emily always put her off, telling Isabel she didn’t want her to get involved, that she would take care of it herself. Still, Emily hadn’t been able to solve the puzzle by herself—perhaps now she should accept the offer.
“What do you have in mind?” Emily stared seriously into Isabel’s eyes.
“See, I knew you’d come around. I could see it in those blue eyes—”
“They’re green,” Camille interrupted.
“They’re both,” Isabel corrected. “Anyway, I have a friend who just retired after thirty-five years with the FBI. He’s living over in Boise and he may have some contacts that could identify the woman. If I can give him a copy of that photo you found, the one with Evan and the woman, he may be able to find something out about Evan’s past life for you.”
“Assuming Evan Parker was his real name,” Emily added.
“Whatever his name was, my friend may be able to dig something up.”
“What do you have to lose, Em?” Camille encouraged.
“Okay, I’ll scan the photo and email it to you, Isabel. Then you can forward it to your FBI friend.”
“Retired FBI friend,” she corrected.
“So, what’s your retired friend’s name?” Emily questioned. “That is, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“No,” she waved her hand. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Isabel said it with a straight face, but then she snickered and Emily and Camille laughed, too. “Let’s just call him Jethro.”
“What are you girls laughing about?” Jonathan asked from the other end of the table. He and Alex gawked suspiciously at the women.
“Just girl talk.” Emily flashed a quick smile to her girlfriends. “Hey, I heard there was a pie baking contest somewhere around here.” She changed the subject and rose to her feet. “And afterwards, they’re selling the entries. Tell me. Who’s ready for pie?”
~*~
Emily and her friends had a ritual of meeting together on Thursday nights for a potluck dinner at one of their homes—girls only. This Thursday it was Emily’s turn to host the dinner and the theme was Italian. Since Emily was the worst cook of the four of them, she decided her contribution would be a big green salad and fresh sourdough bread from the local bakery.
She was setting the table for dinner when her cell phone rang. A big smile spread across her face and her heart began to beat a little faster when she saw it was Colin.
“Hello.” She answered in her sweetest tone—the one she reserved for Colin.
“Hi, Emily. I’ve missed hearing your voice,” he said.
She missed hearing his, too. It always reminded her of warm, dark chocolate—smooth, sweet, and sensual. “Me too. How’s your dad?”
“He’s doing better, but Mom’s not able to take care of him all on her own yet.”
“Any idea when you’ll be back?” Soon, she hoped.
“No, but I’m as anxious to come back to Paradise Valley as you are to have me.” He chuckled.