“If Paul is doing this … if he’s trying to get rid of me … I don’t want to live anyway.”
“Just hang in there, Emily. We’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”
“Okay.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen counter to go through a stack of bills. In the divorce, Daniel and I had split everything but the credit cards were still in both of our names. We sold our house and what few investments we’d had. Since Brian was leaving for college around that time, there were no nasty custody disputes. I couldn’t wait to get the joint credit cards paid off.
But with my shopping addiction, that didn’t seem likely.
Carter’s ring tone—the theme song from Mission Impossible—startled me. I set my mug down and grabbed the phone.
“Hey, Carter. What’s up?”
“Did you have breakfast yet?”
“Just coffee. Why?”
“Can you meet me in twenty minutes?”
“You have another job for us?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Could you be a little more ambiguous?”
“Probably.”
“Fine, see you soon.”
I glanced out the kitchen window. A murky sky threatened rain, so I grabbed an umbrella and headed out.
Chapter 11
When I arrived, Carter was sitting at our usual booth. He looked up from his newspaper and quickly removed his reading glasses. Old school, he still liked the feel of paper in his hands instead of reading on a tablet or phone. I teased him about it whenever I got the chance.
“You know, if you started reading the newspaper on the Kindle, you could increase the font size and you wouldn’t have to wear those grandpa bifocals.”
He took a sip from his coffee mug. “I think we might have a small problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
Carter leaned in. “I think I’m being followed by a guy in a black Cadillac. Don’t look now, but he’s parked across the street.”
“Any idea who he is?”
“I noticed the car for the first time yesterday. He tailed me all over town but I lost him before I got back to my house. When I saw him again this morning, I called a friend and had him run the plates. Car is registered to a Muriel Durgess who’s eighty-six years old.”
“Did you get a look at the driver?”
“He wears a baseball cap. Keeps it low on his face. It’s hard to say, but I’m guessing mid-thirties.”
“So it’s definitely not Muriel.”
He shook his head. “I figure the Cadillac is either stolen, or he’s borrowing it from his grandmother.”
I sipped some coffee and took a moment to consider everything. “You must have a plan if you wanted to see me.”
Carter leaned back and sighed. “I don’t want to pry you away from your other obligations.”
“You mean Emily Hodges? There’s not much to do until Max installs the surveillance equipment this afternoon.”
“Good. I have a hunch this guy might try to follow me home. If he does, I’ll lose him again, but I’d like you to tail him to find out where he goes.”
“Can he see us sitting here together?”
“I don’t think so. He’s turned in the opposite direction. When we leave, I’ll go out to my car first.”
“Are you sure this guy is following you. There’s more than one black Cadillac in this town.”
“Trust me, this guy is up to something.”
A few minutes later, Carter signaled the waitress for a check. He left a ten-dollar bill on the table, put on his leather jacket, and slid out of the booth. “Call me as soon as you have information,” he said as he walked away.
“Guess we’re not ordering breakfast,” I mumbled.
I waited for a full minute, then slid out of the booth. Carter was already in his Buick, stalling as he pretended to read something on his cell phone.
I got back into my car and waited. Carter drove off; the Cadillac did not. I waited another two minutes before I made the call.
“He’s just sitting in his car in the same spot,” I told Carter. “He doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry to go anywhere.”
“Can you see him?”
“Just his silhouette from behind. Should I approach him?”
“Don’t bother,” he said.
“How long do you want me to wait here?”
“Go home. Looks like I’ve made a mistake.”
“Roger that.”
Chapter 12
Boston’s Logan Airport—a labyrinth of mass proportions—was packed with cars, buses, and taxis when I pulled into the United Airlines arrivals gate. Max stood out in the crowd of weary travelers. He smiled when he spotted my car, squeezed into a small opening by the curb.
“You look surprisingly cheerful after spending six hours on a plane,” I told him when he got in.
He kissed me hard on the lips. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Now let’s get out of here before that monster truck mows us over.”
“Want me to drive?” he asked. “I remember the last time you tried to get us out of Boston.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I teased, letting him take the driver’s seat. “So, does that mean you don’t enjoy getting lost for hours in traffic?”
“Not as much as I love getting side-swiped by a lousy driver.”
“Good point.”
Thanks to Max, we made it back to Bridgeport in record time, with an hour to spare. We stopped at his house to grab the necessary equipment for the job, then ate a quick lunch on our way to Emily’s house.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” I said, when we pulled into her driveway.
“I could do this job with my eyes closed.” Max grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat and we headed to the front door.
“Nice place they have here,” Max said, looking around. “Must keep their landscaper busy.”
He was right. The same red truck was parked out front and the same young man was raking dead leaves.
Why would the Hodges’ spend so much money on property maintenance? It was fairly obvious they were going to lose the house.
I rang the doorbell and we waited for what seemed like a full minute. “Maybe she’s in the shower,” Max said.
“I told her we were coming.”
I rang the doorbell a second time and knocked again. Finally, the door opened and Emily appeared in the doorway.
“I am so sorry,” she said, out of breath. “I was resting on the couch. I must have fallen asleep.”
“Emily, I’d like to introduce you to Max Stevens.”
She regarded him with a faint smile. “The surveillance expert, I hear.”
Max—always the one to downplay that moniker—smiled humbly. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hodges.”
“Emily,” she said. “Please come in.”
Max got right to work, inspecting the kitchen for strategic hiding spots that would provide ideal camera angles.
Emily took a seat at the table to watch. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to keep her eye on him; most women did.
“So,” she said, finally peeling her gaze away from Max. A worried look clouded her features. “How does this work once the equipment is in place?”
“The live feed from the cameras will automatically be recorded by a program we can access at any point via laptop.”
“So, Paul won’t be able to see the cameras, right?”
“Correct,” I reminded her. “That’s the point.”
“Will you be able to hear conversations?”
“No. These particular cameras aren’t equipped with microphones.”
Emily nodded, lips slightly pursed. “So, what happens next?”
“Just go about your normal routine and pretend everything is fine.”
The expression on her face suggested she was uncomfortable with the whole thing. “So, what should I do in the meantime?” she asked.
“We’ll
keep a close eye on the surveillance tonight when Paul gets home from work. If we believe he has doctored your beverage, we will call you first, then contact the police and submit the tapes as evidence. It might be a good idea to keep the tea just in case the lab wants to test it.”
Emily nodded slowly as she placed both palms on her knees for support.
“Can I get something for you?” I asked. “Water?”
She raised her left hand to object. “I’m fine. I just get dizzy sometimes.”
“Have you talked to your parents recently?” I’d been wondering why they weren’t around to help their daughter in her time of need.
She shook her head. “Honestly, talking to them makes me even more depressed.”
“You know, it might be a good idea to confide in Linda. I know she’s Paul’s friend, too, but you can trust her to keep a secret.”
“She’s so busy with her other patients. I hate feeling like a burden.”
“But she’s one of your best friends,” I said, and almost mentioned the depressing fact that she appears to be the only friend.
Emily swallowed hard. “You haven’t mentioned anything to her, have you?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.”
She seemed relieved as she exhaled a long breath. “Did she ever tell you about our wedding in Hawaii?”
“A little. Something to do with your brother and the wedding cake.”
Emily nodded as a spark of anger lit up her eyes. “Do you have siblings, Sarah?”
“No.”
She glanced over at Max, who was just out of earshot. “Benjamin and I barely tolerated each other growing up. He was the young prince and our parents spoiled him. No wonder he became such a drama queen.”
“Drama queen?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention he’s gay and proud?”
The blunt comment left me speechless.
“He knew he was gay at an early age,” she continued. “And that was fine, but he had no shame. For instance, when he was ten, my parents had a group of friends over to the house for a party. Benjamin decided it would be an excellent time to come out of the closet and tell everyone he was gay. It was so embarrassing. No one knew what to say.”
“Awkward.”
“Even so, everyone loved Benjamin despite his crass nature. I could never stand him. He’s like Richard Simmons on speed.”
“So what precipitated the blow-out at the wedding?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story. I’d rather not get into it if you don’t mind.”
“No problem.”
Emily turned her head to watch Max install the cameras. “Do you believe in soul mates, Sarah?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes yes and sometimes I think love is random. In my personal experience, it’s all about timing.”
She nodded as if she understood implicitly. “You’re very pragmatic, aren’t you? I wish I could be more that way. Problem is, I’ve put all my eggs in Paul’s basket. What would I do without him? Especially in my condition.”
“You have other people in your life to turn to,” I said. “No matter what we find on the surveillance footage tonight, you won’t end up alone. Have you thought about what you’ll do if Paul is arrested?”
“Well, if we lose the house, I’ll probably have to go stay with my parents.”
“Where do they live?”
“Florida. They’re both retired, but my dad has emphysema, so they don’t get out much.”
No wonder her parents weren’t around to help her out.
A few minutes later, Max joined us at the table. “It’s all set, ladies. The cameras are in place.”
Emily looked around the kitchen. “Nicely done, I can’t even see where they are.”
“Good, then I’ve done my job,” Max said, smiling. “I’ll just need a few more minutes to confirm the transmitters are working. Other than that, I’ll have to come back in a few days to replace the batteries, or remove the devices, depending on the outcome.” He turned away to type something on his tablet computer.
“Well then.” Emily placed both palms on the armrest and pushed herself up shakily. “I should go lie down. I’m feeling very tired today.”
“Keep your cell phone handy tonight,” I said. “Just in case.”
“Thank you both for everything.” She touched my hand and gave me an apologetic look. “I need to write you a check, dear. I know you’ve been working so hard to help me with this. I feel awful that I haven’t given you any compensation yet.”
“Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll discuss it later. You need to rest.”
“Thank you. I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
I offered a sincere smile. “I’m glad I can help.”
Max gathered his equipment and headed to the door. I gave him the head nod, the one that implied, ‘give us a few minutes alone.’ Max got the hint, gave a quick wave good-bye to Emily, and left.
Emily turned to me. “He seems like a nice man.”
“Yes, he is.” I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Can I ask you a question? It might be none of my business, but it’s something I feel I should bring up.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the guy working on your yard. He was here a few days ago, and again today.”
“Oh, that’s Hector. Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious because you said you were having a hard time paying the bills. Usually, landscaping is one of the first luxuries to go.”
“Oh, I can explain that. Hector and my husband have a barter agreement between them. Paul does his taxes, and he maintains our yard. It seems to work out for everyone.”
“So, are they friends?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call them friends, necessarily.”
It seemed like an unusual arrangement to me, and the red flags were flying high in my mind. “Has Hector ever been invited into the house before?”
She paused to regard me with caution. “Is there a particular reason you’re asking?”
“Just curious.”
Emily shrugged as if she couldn’t see the point. “Well, sometimes he needs to use the bathroom, or get a glass of water. I don’t see any harm in that, do you?”
I wasn’t so sure. “He’s very lucky to have such nice clients to work for,” I said, turning to leave. “Anyway, I’ll let you get some rest now. I’ll be in touch.”
Chapter 13
Max seemed quiet on the ride home. I knew there was something on his mind.
“What’s your impression of Emily and this whole situation?” I asked, giving him an opportunity to air his concerns.
“I don’t know. It sucks that a woman in her condition should have to worry about her husband poisoning her.”
“Yeah, it definitely makes me sad.”
“By the way, have you discussed with Emily what you’ll be charging for your services?”
“Not yet. I haven’t dared to bring it up. She seems worried about money. The company she worked for didn’t give her much when she left. Her hospital bills have wiped out most of her investments. Paul’s income isn’t cutting it. They might lose their house.”
Max gave me that look. “You have a big heart, Sarah. I love that about you, but how do you expect to pay your own bills?”
“I know. Carter warned me about that, too. But this is different. I want to help her either way. And I’ll pay you for your time if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Max twisted his mouth in offense. “You’re my girlfriend and I’m happy to help. Emily is basically a stranger to you.”
“It’s a favor for Linda,” I said. “Linda basically asked for my help. And since Carter and I aren’t working on a big case right now, I have nothing else to do.”
He squeezed my knee, affectionately. “Sure you do, you can spend time with me.”
* * *
During dinner, Max set his laptop on the kitchen table so we could keep
an eye on Emily’s kitchen.
We watched as Paul came home from the gym at 6:45 p.m., still wearing his workout attire. He paused in the kitchen, downed a glass of water then left the room. I assumed he was going to check in with Emily or take a shower.
“It’s like watching a silent horror film. The suspense is killing me,” I said. Probably a poor choice of words considering what was at stake.
Max topped off my glass of wine. “Try to relax. We could be here for hours. What time does he usually make her tea?”
“She wasn’t specific.”
He pushed my plate a few inches closer to me. “You should eat something.”
“I’m too nervous.”
Twenty minutes later, we watched as Paul returned to the kitchen wearing a long robe. He turned on the stove, filled the kettle with water, placed it on the burner, then pulled a cup and saucer from the cabinet. He took a tea bag from the box, placed it in the cup and then made a sandwich.
I held my breath as we observed the moment unfold. Max and I must have looked like two kids engrossed in a video game, our eyes wide, anticipating what would come next.
The minute seemed to drag on for hours.
Paul placed his dirty plate in the dishwasher and returned to the stove. He poured the water into the mug and stirred.
We had a clear shot of him from two different angles, one of his right side and one facing him straight on. The look on his face was placid as he continued to stir the tea. A few seconds later, he set the spoon in the sink, cradled the mug in both hands, and walked off.
I let out a breath. “I didn’t see him put anything into the tea, did you?”
“No.”
I turned to face Max. “So, what do you think?”
“Maybe he puts the stuff in her morning tea.” He checked his watch as he yawned. “Speaking of morning, I’d better hit the sack. I’ve got a meeting first thing.”
“Go on to bed, I’m going to stay here and watch for another hour or so.”
“Okay.” He kissed my forehead and headed to the bedroom.
Chapter 14
A Taste of Sin Page 6
