The Heart of Lies - By Debra Burroughs Page 0,14

facing the retired federal agent.

“Yes, my friend, your help is huge,” Isabel agreed, patting his shoulder.

“Before you go, I have one more question—a hypothetical question.” Emily looked at Isabel, who nodded for her to proceed.

Jethro’s eyes fixed on Emily’s with a serious stare. “Okay.” He drew out the word as he crossed his arms across his chest. “What’s your question—hypothetically?”

She paused for a moment and swallowed hard before speaking. “What if Evan had been involved in something where a gun was used and he hid the gun so it wouldn’t be found?”

“Go on,” Jethro encouraged.

“And let’s say, hypothetically, the gun was found by a friend. What should that friend do with the gun? Give it to the police?”

Jethro frowned. He turned and glanced at Isabel, then back to Emily. “Hypothetically?” he asked, raising his brows.

Emily nodded.

“Hypothetically, the friend should give it to the FBI. If the friend gave it to Isabel, for example, she could make sure it’s checked against any federal investigations first.”

“I agree—hypothetically, of course,” Isabel concurred.

Jethro explained that Isabel could also check with the CIA to see if the gun was used in any cases they were involved with. Then, if it was cleared by the FBI and CIA, the gun could then be turned over to the police to search for a match in any of their investigations.

“I see,” Emily replied, feeling overwhelmed.

“So, one could start with the federal agencies, then go local, or vice versa—either way,” Isabel said.

“Good to know,” Emily replied, “if I ever run across something like that.”

“So,” Jethro grinned, “can I get a look at this hypothetical gun?”

~*~

After Isabel and her friend left, Emily cleared the food and drinks, then raced back to her bedroom to change into her black jeans and thin black sweater. She pulled her hair up into a stretchy skull cap and tugged a curly dark brown wig on over it—just a girl getting ready to go to work. She stuck a pair of black framed glasses on and admired her handiwork in the bathroom mirror. Grabbing her purse and camera, she headed out.

Emily stuck her Bluetooth earpiece on as she drove to the Hilton Hotel to catch her mark in the act. The wife, her client, had found credit card charges to this hotel dated every Monday for the last month, when her husband claimed he was working late.

Emily had a friend, named Trudi, who worked the evening front desk at the hotel. Trudi had experience with a cheating husband, and she happily agreed to help Emily and temporarily loan out a hotel uniform jacket to catch the scumbag, as her friend put it.

On the drive over, Emily called Colin and told him all about her meeting with Isabel and Jethro.

“And then he asked to see the gun,” Emily said with a hint of disbelief.

“You didn’t really think he’d buy the hypothetical thing, did you?” Colin asked. “I wouldn’t have either.”

“No, it was more of a veil. I couldn’t exactly admit I had a gun that could have been involved in a crime, but I wanted his advice.” Emily pulled her car into the hotel’s nearly empty parking lot and turned the engine off.

“Are you going to turn it in?” he asked.

“Probably, but I want to discuss it a little further with Isabel.” Emily looked around for a silver Lexus SUV, as the wife had described, but it was nowhere to be seen. “I might as well. We’re not going to find out the whole truth until I do.”

Just then, the Lexus pulled in and parked. A middle-aged, balding man with a paunch climbed out and headed into the hotel, carrying a briefcase. Emily recognized him from the photo her client had provided.

He didn’t come with anyone. He must be meeting her at the room.

“Sorry, Colin, but I need to go.” Emily kept her eyes on the man.

She hung up, then stuck the small camera in her front jeans pocket. Emily glanced around the parking lot as she hurried to the hotel.

Entering the lobby, she saw Trudi standing behind the check-in counter, her red hair neatly pulled back in a French twist, dressed in her forest green hotel uniform. Catching her eye, Trudi nodded her head toward the bar. Emily hung back and peeked in. The man was talking to the bartender, ordering drinks to be brought up to the room perhaps.

Emily eased backward, around the corner and out of sight, before the man turned to come out of the bar. She inconspicuously waited for him to

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