it always went to voicemail. Though it was frustrating, Emily knew that if Isabel was working hard on a case at the FBI, sometimes she could not be reached for non-FBI purposes.
Isabel had worked for months doing the financial analyses on the George Semanski murder and kidnapping case and it would be going to court soon. She’d had to go out of town a few weeks ago and lately had been putting in some fourteen to sixteen hour days. She had managed to get the evening off last night for Maggie and Lucas’s engagement party, but Emily assumed she was back at her office working again.
All the intense work on the Semanski case, leading up to the trial, meant Isabel hadn’t had the spare time to look into Lucas’s background yet. Emily didn’t have the federal contacts Isabel did, so she had to rely on her own investigative methods.
If Detective Colin Andrews had still been in town, she could have asked him for a few favors and he would have gladly complied. But his replacement, Detective Ernie Kaufman—good ol’ Ernie—wasn’t as cooperative. He was old school, by the book, and Emily wasn’t romantically involved with him.
Boy, I miss Colin.
Emily had found several different Lucas Wakefield’s on the internet, none of which seemed to match the description of her subject—a high school football player in the south, an insurance adjuster in the Midwest, a pharmacy owner in Texas, and a professor in England.
Something wasn’t adding up. Maybe if she could get something with Lucas’s fingerprints on it, she would have more success. She was hoping she could convince Isabel to squeeze the request for that analysis into the middle of her hectic schedule. DNA would be better, but that could take weeks to get the results. By then it would be too late.
Lucas and Maggie would be married.
Her cell phone began to ring and she dug it out of her pocket. “Hello.”
“Hey, Em, this is Isabel. I see you tried me quite a few times this morning. What’s up?”
“I wondered if you’d had a chance to do that background check on Lucas yet.”
“Not yet. I’ve been buried with this case. But as soon as I get a breather, I’m on it.”
“After what I saw at the party last night, I think we need to move quickly.” Emily had discussed her observations briefly with Isabel after the party was over, but they hadn’t had the chance to discuss it in depth and formulate a plan. “What if I can get you something with Lucas’s fingerprints on it? Can you ask for a test to be run?”
“When would you have it?” Isabel asked.
“Tonight. I’m having dinner with Maggie to go over some of the wedding plans, so I’ll have it after that, and I’ll drop it at your house later.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take it in tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me—I have to work—trying to tie up loose ends before trial. Tomorrow being Sunday, though, there won’t be anyone to run the prints ’til Monday. But if I get it submitted, we can be first in line and I can push it on Monday.”
“Thanks, Isabel. I’ll let you get back to work.”
CHAPTER 11
Emily showed up at Maggie’s little house around five, anxious to find something she could be sure had Lucas’s fingerprints on it. Maggie lived in a cottage-style house just a few blocks from Emily in the charming, older section of Paradise Valley. It was pretty as a postcard with painted white clapboard and black shutters, set off by a deep red arched-top front door.
The front yard was profuse with flowers and blooming rosebushes, bordered with a white picket fence. It was the kind of home Maggie grew up dreaming of back in her dirt-floor shack in Texas.
“Come in, Em,” Maggie squealed, giving her friend a warm hug. “I can’t wait to show you the invitations I’ve picked out. I want you to tell me which one you think is prettiest.”
“Okay.”
Maggie took Emily’s hand and dragged her to the cozy dining room. The table was covered with magazines and catalogs lying open with pads of colorful sticky notes strewn amongst them. Maggie excitedly pointed out which one was which, and how she had put bright yellow sticky notes on the items she liked.
“I don’t think we can do all of this within the next two weeks, Maggs,” Emily said.
“I know, but it’s a nice idea, isn’t it? My first weddin’ was in front of a Justice of the Peace in Hollywood,