bail.”
“Did you get a look at the housekeeper’s statement?” Emily asked.
“Not yet. I expect to get that on Monday, as well. But Colin did mention a few things from it, like there was another woman at the house while Delia was in her bathroom, arguing with Ricardo over their affair.”
“And Delia didn’t know?”
“No, she looked as surprised by the news as I was, maybe more so. Colin said, according to the housekeeper’s statement, that the woman was late twenties or early thirties, about five six or seven, with long dark hair.”
“That sounds like Delia’s assistant, Anna.”
“You’ve met her assistant?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it was her. Sounds like a pretty average description. That would describe your own wife, for instance.”
“I guess you’re right, but we should check that assistant out all the same.”
“Consider it done,” she assured him.
“I’d like to question the housekeeper myself, if I could find her,” he remarked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure they’re not letting her stay at Delia’s house right now. I expect they have it sealed off as a crime scene.”
“I’ll do some snooping around and see if I can find her,” she said.
Alex opened the car door and slid out. “I’ll call you in the morning and let you know what time the arraignment is scheduled. Go home and get some rest while you can.”
As she drove away, Emily thought about poor Delia, sitting alone in a stark jail cell. According to her, Ricardo was alive when she went upstairs, so someone had to have killed him while she was up there. But who? Who would have gotten in the house? The police said there was no sign of forced entry, so was it someone he knew? And why? Maybe he was into something dangerous and someone was after him. Maybe some sort of deal he was involved with went south.
By the time she got home, Emily’s stomach was grumbling loudly in protest to her missing dinner. Delia had called before she’d gotten the chance to eat anything at Isabel’s party. She took a box dinner out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. Standing in front of the oven, she watched her dinner spin around just like the questions that were spinning in her head.
The microwave beeped, jerking her out of her thoughts. She grabbed a tea towel and removed the hot dish, then moved to the table to eat. But as soon as she sat down, she noticed the photo from the safe deposit box lying on the table. Emily studied it for a minute. “He looks so young,” she muttered, staring at Evan’s engaging blue eyes and that sexy, crooked smile.
How long ago was this picture taken, and who was this woman ? Evan obviously knew her well—he had his arm around her and they looked happy. Was she a friend or a relative? A cousin maybe?
Emily’s mind was such a jumble of questions that she hardly realized she had devoured her entire dinner without really tasting it. She pushed the plastic plate aside and concentrated on the photo, propping her head on one hand. Maybe she was an old girlfriend? If so, why would he have kept it in that safe deposit box? Or could he have had a wife before he married me? No. If that were the case he would have told me, I know it —Emily shot up straight in her chair— then again, maybe not.
From the items she found in the safe deposit box, there were obviously a lot of things he hadn’ t told her. Besides wondering who this woman was, she was starting to wonder who Evan really was.
When they had first met about six years ago, she had just graduated from Georgetown University with a degree in US History. She had intended to teach high school, but teaching jobs in the Washington, D.C. area had been scarce. So she had waited tables in a restaurant near Alexandria, Virginia, to pay the bills until the right job came along.
Evan had wandered into the restaurant one afternoon for a late lunch and they’d struck up a conversation. He’d come back a few more times before he
“Did you get a look at the housekeeper’s statement?” Emily asked.
“Not yet. I expect to get that on Monday, as well. But Colin did mention a few things from it, like there was another woman at the house while Delia was in her bathroom, arguing with Ricardo over their affair.”
“And Delia didn’t know?”
“No, she looked as surprised by the news as I was, maybe more so. Colin said, according to the housekeeper’s statement, that the woman was late twenties or early thirties, about five six or seven, with long dark hair.”
“That sounds like Delia’s assistant, Anna.”
“You’ve met her assistant?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it was her. Sounds like a pretty average description. That would describe your own wife, for instance.”
“I guess you’re right, but we should check that assistant out all the same.”
“Consider it done,” she assured him.
“I’d like to question the housekeeper myself, if I could find her,” he remarked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m sure they’re not letting her stay at Delia’s house right now. I expect they have it sealed off as a crime scene.”
“I’ll do some snooping around and see if I can find her,” she said.
Alex opened the car door and slid out. “I’ll call you in the morning and let you know what time the arraignment is scheduled. Go home and get some rest while you can.”
As she drove away, Emily thought about poor Delia, sitting alone in a stark jail cell. According to her, Ricardo was alive when she went upstairs, so someone had to have killed him while she was up there. But who? Who would have gotten in the house? The police said there was no sign of forced entry, so was it someone he knew? And why? Maybe he was into something dangerous and someone was after him. Maybe some sort of deal he was involved with went south.
By the time she got home, Emily’s stomach was grumbling loudly in protest to her missing dinner. Delia had called before she’d gotten the chance to eat anything at Isabel’s party. She took a box dinner out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. Standing in front of the oven, she watched her dinner spin around just like the questions that were spinning in her head.
The microwave beeped, jerking her out of her thoughts. She grabbed a tea towel and removed the hot dish, then moved to the table to eat. But as soon as she sat down, she noticed the photo from the safe deposit box lying on the table. Emily studied it for a minute. “He looks so young,” she muttered, staring at Evan’s engaging blue eyes and that sexy, crooked smile.
How long ago was this picture taken, and who was this woman ? Evan obviously knew her well—he had his arm around her and they looked happy. Was she a friend or a relative? A cousin maybe?
Emily’s mind was such a jumble of questions that she hardly realized she had devoured her entire dinner without really tasting it. She pushed the plastic plate aside and concentrated on the photo, propping her head on one hand. Maybe she was an old girlfriend? If so, why would he have kept it in that safe deposit box? Or could he have had a wife before he married me? No. If that were the case he would have told me, I know it —Emily shot up straight in her chair— then again, maybe not.
From the items she found in the safe deposit box, there were obviously a lot of things he hadn’ t told her. Besides wondering who this woman was, she was starting to wonder who Evan really was.
When they had first met about six years ago, she had just graduated from Georgetown University with a degree in US History. She had intended to teach high school, but teaching jobs in the Washington, D.C. area had been scarce. So she had waited tables in a restaurant near Alexandria, Virginia, to pay the bills until the right job came along.
Evan had wandered into the restaurant one afternoon for a late lunch and they’d struck up a conversation. He’d come back a few more times before he
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