Yeah, I know.”
He handed it to Emily and then locked the evidence drawer.
Emily pulled it out of the bag. “Do you have that ketchup and white hanky I asked for, Ernie?”
“Right here.” He handed the items to her and watched with interest, as did Colin and Maggie.
Emily smeared ketchup on the jagged tips of the mountain-shaped paperweight with her finger and set it on the desk in the middle of the hanky to dry. “Colin, can you wire me?”
Colin chuckled at Emily’s decoy murder weapon and pushed off the desk, grabbing the box of equipment from behind it. Emily lifted her blouse, with her back to Ernie, and Colin began taping the wire in place.
“Ernie will be in the van listening while you’re talking with Fiona and Gloria,” Colin said, “waiting for your signal to move in.”
“I have the surveillance van out back and I’ve already briefed a handful of officers on the plan,” Ernie explained, fastening his bullet-proof vest. “They’ll be in place around the restaurant’s parking lot, out of sight, before Fiona and Gloria arrive. As a matter of fact, they should already be on their way over there.”
“What about me?” Maggie asked. “I want to come.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Colin warned, continuing to affix the wire to Emily.
When he had to run the wire up through her bra, she slapped his hand away playfully. “I think I can manage the rest of it myself.”
She took the mic out of his hand and threaded it under the front of her bra, then taped it to her chest.
“She can keep you and me company in the van,” Ernie proposed. “She’ll be safe enough.”
Colin shot Emily a questioning look.
Emily shrugged and rolled her eyes as she stuck the earbud into her left ear. “I guess it’s okay, as long as she’s quiet and stays out of the way, but it’s not my call. Ernie?”
“I’ll be quiet as a church mouse,” Maggie promised. “Y’all won’t even know I’m there.”
“Looks like you’re in.” Ernie grinned at Maggie.
“Let’s load up.” Emily pulled the handkerchief around the paperweight, the same way she had found the murder weapon, and stuck it in her own purse.
~*~
“I’m pulling in,” Emily said out loud, making sure her microphone was working. An eerie shiver crept up her spine as she anticipated what she was about to do.
As Emily pulled into the Copper Kettle Restaurant’s parking lot, she spotted Fiona and Mrs. Wakefield sitting in Fiona’s silvery blue sedan. Emily remembered seeing her driving it into the office parking lot a few times.
Glancing around, Emily noticed the restaurant’s parking lot was almost empty, grateful there were few patrons in the place in the middle of the afternoon.
“We hear you loud and clear,” Ernie replied in her ear. “I’m starting the recording.”
Emily swung her white Volvo into a parking space near the sedan. If she had to wrestle one of them to the ground, she wanted to leave an empty space between them for room to maneuver. “I’m getting out.”
She climbed out of her car and slung her own purse over her shoulder, carrying Gloria’s bag in her hand. As she cautiously approached the women, they got out of the car to meet her. Her heart was thudding so loudly she was certain Ernie could hear the pounding through her microphone. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple and she inhaled deeply, wondering if her plan would work.
Breathe, Emily, just breathe
She plastered a friendly smile on her face.
You can do this.
“Hi, Fiona, Mrs. Wakefield.”
“Oh, Emily, thank you so much for bringing me my purse. I hope it wasn’t too far out of your way.” Gloria took the bag from Emily. Turning, she set it on the hood of the car. “You’re simply a doll, Emily.” She dug around inside of the purse as if she was looking for something, slowly at first, then erratically. She spun back to Emily with a pallid, rattled look on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Fiona asked at the older woman’s odd behavior.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Emily held up the bloody paperweight enrobed in a white cotton handkerchief.
Gloria’s eyes grew as big as saucers, then narrowed to a scowl.
“I don’t understand. Why did you bring that?” Fiona’s eyebrows wrinkled together in obvious surprise. “Isn’t that Lucas’s paperweight, from the office? And why does it have blood on it?”
Gloria did not answer. She stood stony silent, glaring at Emily.
It was clear to Emily that Gloria was the culprit. “Fiona, this is the murder weapon. I found it