you’re checking him out, she’ll hit the roof,” Emily warned.
“How’s she going to find out if you don’t tell her? I know I’m not going to mention it.”
“Fortunately for you, Camille isn’t here. Otherwise, you certainly would have something to worry about.” Emily laughed.
“Here we go.” The young waiter set their food down, then refilled their water glasses, and moved on to the next table.
“Oh, before I forget, my retired FBI friend, you know Jethro,” Isabel made air quotes with her fingers when she said his fake name, “he’s going to be in town this week. He said he could meet with us day after tomorrow.”
“What time?”
“I thought we could come by your house about seven,” Isabel suggested. “He’s anxious to see if he recognizes Evan or the woman, and I figured it would be best if he could see the original photo.”
“No more anxious than I am. That nagging doubt is eating me up. I can’t help but wonder if she was his wife before me. Or was she his lover? Did she die? Is she still alive?”
“Whoa!” Isabel waved her hand. “Save the questions for our meeting.”
“Sorry, I got a little carried away there,” Emily apologized, picking up her turkey sandwich, “but that’s what keeps running through my mind. Some nights I can hardly sleep wondering who my husband really was.”
“I’m hoping Jethro can identify both of them” Isabel picked at her fries.
“Wouldn’t it be something if he recognized Evan right off? I’d love it if he said, I know that guy, his name is something or other,” Emily remarked, speaking in a deep manly voice, waving her hand for emphasis.
Isabel chuckled at Emily’s impression of Jethro, then her expression became deeply serious. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be satisfied to tell yourself you had five wonderful years with a great guy named Evan who made you feel loved… and just leave it at that?”
“No, my friend, that train has definitely left the station. I’m dying to hear what Jethro has to say. If he’s been working in DC for over thirty years, it’s possible he came in contact with Evan—or whatever his name turns out to be—at some point, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, maybe, but you might find out something you don’t want to know, Em.” Isabel’s expression grew even more serious, as did her tone.
“Like what?” Emily lowered her voice. Her brow wrinkled as she leaned closer to Isabel.
“What if Evan was a hit man for the CIA or something like that?” Isabel glanced around to make sure no one could overhear their conversation. “And maybe that woman was his partner. You need to prepare yourself for the worst.”
“Evan? A hit man for the CIA?” Emily’s voice rose in disbelief.
“Shhh, keep your voice down.”
Emily sat back in her chair, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
“It may not be as bad as all that. I’m just saying, prepare yourself—it could be ugly.”
“Ugh! You’re right.” Emily leaned forward once more and kept her volume low. “I don’t want to believe he was something horrible, like an assassin, but one way or the other, my husband was obviously not who he said he was. The proof is in those fake passports I found, all that cash, and the mysterious gun.”
Isabel nodded sympathetically.
“That gun has to be the key to something. Evan had several guns at the house, so why would he have stuck that one away in a safe deposit box if there was nothing to hide? There had to be a reason.”
“If you leave it lying in the safe deposit box, you’ll never know what that reason was,” Isabel said.
“Are you saying I should turn it over to the authorities and have it tested, see if it’s connected to any open murder cases?”
“Perhaps. Why don’t you mention it to Jethro—hypothetically, of course,” Isabel suggested, raising her eyebrows at Emily, as if asking if she understood.
“Oh, yes, of course, hypothetically, right.” Emily caught on. “I appreciate your setting up the meeting.” She patted Isabel’s hand. “I’ll owe you.”
“I’ll remember you said that.” Isabel flashed a wide grin as she picked up her burger. “Now let’s eat. I’m starved.”
“Hey, y’all,” Maggie’s lilting Southern drawl sang out as she and Lucas approached the table.
“Maggie,” Emily responded as she and Isabel looked up from their plates.
Maggie’s hand was threaded through the crook of Lucas’s arm.
“Hello, ladies,” he said. “You both are looking beautiful today.”
“That’s slick,” Isabel mumbled to Emily as she wiped a napkin across her mouth.