that, don’t you?” Lucas nodded and tried to catch the mayor’s gaze, but he turned and walked back to his desk.
“I know,” Sully muttered. His eyes were lowered and he fidgeted, rearranging papers and pens on his desk. “I could really use that money—it’s just that I could get in a boatload of trouble if I got caught.”
“No pressure,” Lucas said evenly. Now give him the I-know-what-you’re-going-through line. “I know what it feels like to be drowning in debt, that’s why I’m offering you a lifeline, to help you get out from under it.”
“It is a tempting offer.” Sully sat down, still nervously moving a few more things around on his desk.
“Close your eyes, Sully.”
“What?” He looked at Lucas, noticeably surprised at the request.
“Work with me here, Sully.”
Sully rolled his eyes, then complied with Lucas’s request.
“Now imagine how free you’ll feel when you’ve taken your windfall and cleared your debts—gone, paid off, free,” Lucas chanted. “Go ahead, do it.”
With his eyes still shut, Sully leaned back in his leather chair and laced his hands across his stomach. He remained silent for a few moments. A smile spread across his face, then a rush of air escaped his lips as he released a long sigh.
“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” Lucas asked.
Sully opened his eyes and grinned widely at Lucas.
“Now remember that feeling. That’s what it’s going to feel like as soon as you sell those condos.” Gotcha!
CHAPTER 5
Emily had tossed and turned throughout the night. She’d fought off a barrage of questions about Evan’s secret life that her subconscious had mercilessly thrown at her. Over and over in her mind, visions played out, possible scenarios, like a series of movies running in her head—spy movies, conspiracy theory movies, witness protection movies.
After several cups of coffee in the morning, she was wired and looking for a way to release her pent-up anxiety. Emily spent much of that day scrubbing and cleaning anything that got in her way. She tried to keep her mind focused on other things, working out her stress, but she kept returning to the old photo of Evan and the mystery woman, as well as the other suspicious finds in the secret safe deposit box.
Colin called her shortly before seven o’clock that evening—just checking in, he said.
She told him about her upcoming meeting with Isabel and her FBI friend and about her hopes for some real answers to who had killed Evan, and why.
“Sounds like an incredible opportunity, Emily. This Jethro character may open some new doors you haven’t had access to before.”
“I know.” She paced the bedroom floor in her bare feet. “I owe Isabel, but I’m going nuts just waiting for them to get here.”
“Just breathe, they’ll be there soon. Call me as soon as they leave—I want to hear everything.”
“I promise,” she agreed, resting against the edge of her bed. “I have a stakeout later tonight—”
“Corporate espionage?”
“Ha, ha. No. Another philandering husband, but I’ll call you as soon as I can. Maybe you can keep me company on the phone.”
“It’s a date. I so enjoy being near you, in your Bluetooth, I mean. Bye, love.” Colin hung up.
Bye, Colin. She sighed. I love you, too.
Emily checked her watch again and went to the living room window to peek out. No one yet. She paced from her living room to the kitchen and back as seven o’clock approached. Any minute, Isabel would be bringing the man she could only refer to as “Jethro” to her little bungalow for a hush-hush meeting. It all felt so clandestine. Emily knew a bit about clandestine actions, but this felt different somehow—it felt national, maybe even international—and it felt personal.
With a pair of black leather flats by the door, she was prepared to sling them on before letting her guests in. Dressed in jeans and a stretchy black top, she was more comfortable when her feet were bare, so she left her shoes for the last second. What kind of impression would that make if I greeted this seasoned federal agent in my bare feet? She figured Isabel would be mortified with embarrassment and she would owe her doubly.
To prepare for her meeting, she had set out a tray of cheese and crackers, with beer and wine chilling in the refrigerator. The infamous photo lay on the coffee table next to the food, along with a copy Jethro could take with him, if he chose to.
What else will Jethro want? She tried to anticipate. Something with Evan’s fingerprints or DNA maybe.