The Chain of Lies

CHAPTER 13



After an exhaustive conversation about their clandestine operation, and not much football watching, the gang decided to leave Camille and Jonathan in peace and call it a night. Those who would be involved agreed to reconvene the next afternoon to hammer out the details. Their best chance to go in for the massage, they agreed, would be Sunday evening. Depending on how things went, they could move on to the next phase of the operation Sunday night.

The evening was still early, around six o’clock. Colin and Emily decided to pick up some Chinese food to go at their favorite place, and head for her house.

“I’ll get the plates if you’ll pour the drinks,” Emily said as she reached up into her kitchen cupboard. The cartons of Chinese delicacies waited on the table for them.

“What would you like?” Colin stooped over and peeked into the refrigerator.

Emily glanced into the open refrigerator, and noticed a large bottle of sweet tea. “Iced tea is fine.” She brought the plates, forks, and napkins to the table and laid the place settings out while he poured the tea. They took their seats at the table and began spooning out the various dishes.

“I was proud of you today,” Colin said as he pulled a spring roll from one of the boxes.

“For what?” Emily stuck a piece of sweet and sour pork in her mouth and grinned.

“You really took charge of the discussion this afternoon.”

“I suppose when you feel strongly about something, it sort of takes over and compels you to do something about it.”

“I could see that. Pass me the fried rice, please.”

Emily picked up the small box of rice by the wire handle and handed it to him.

“You just need to be careful you’re on the right track. What if we find out there’s nothing going on there?” Colin opened the box and scooped some of it onto his plate.

“There’s definitely something going on in that place.” She wagged her fork at him. “It may not be what I think, but it’s definitely something.”

Colin reached out and put his hand on hers. “If you’re right, these people can be very dangerous. We need to be careful and do this thing by the book if we want any charges to stick.”

“Yes, sir,” Emily quipped.

“I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I.”

When dinner was over, they cleaned up the kitchen together and went to the living room to relax and watch a movie. They turned the TV on and scrolled through the Pay-Per-View choices.

“What do you want to watch?” Colin asked, pointing the remote controller at the television.

“Something romantic. How about—” Emily was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.

“Sorry,” he mouthed, grimacing, as he pulled the phone to his ear. “Colin Andrews.”

She listened to his side of the conversation.

“He did? Where?”

He looked at Emily as he listened to the caller, then his gaze went beyond her, as if he was visualizing what the caller was saying.

“Okay,” he replied, looking down at his watch. “I can be there in about fifteen minutes. Keep him there.”

“What is it?” Emily asked, wide eyed.

“That was Ernie. Do you remember Mr. Osterman, one of the witnesses from the McCall murder case?”

“Yes, Delia’s neighbor. Why?”

“Seems old Mr. Osterman has taken up a new hobby.”

“A new hobby? What?”

“Using a metal detector to find buried treasures, Ernie said.”

“So, what does that have to do with you?” Emily knit her brows together as she tilted her head.

“Well, our old friend seems to have found a gun half buried in the bank down by the river that flows past his neighborhood.”

“Delia’s neighborhood? Do you think—”

Emily’s heart began to race and her mouth went dry. She could hardly get the words out she was so excited at the prospect that perhaps Mr. Osterman had found the gun that killed her late husband.

“Might be. I don’t want you getting your hopes up, though. It could turn out to have nothing to do with Evan’s murder.”

“All right, I’ll try to keep my exuberance in check.”

“Ernie’s detaining the old guy at the station ’til I get there, so I’m sorry, Babe, but I need to run.”

“Let me get my shoes. I’m coming with you.”

~*~

On the drive to the police station, Emily received a call from Isabel saying she had just been given some info on Jethro. She had spoken with an FBI agent on the human trafficking task force, part of the team that was watching the Jade Thai Spa, and he mentioned to her that he’d heard Jethro had been rushed to the hospital that afternoon. Knowing they had been friends, the agent thought Isabel would want to know.

“What’s wrong with him?” Emily asked, looking over at Colin as he drove.

He glanced back at her.

“I don’t know. The details are sketchy,” Isabel replied. “I’m going to drop over there and see what I can find out.”

Emily explained to Isabel where she and Colin were headed and why.

“If that is the gun, Em, this could be a huge break in the case.”

“I know,” Emily responded, “but Colin keeps telling me not to get excited until we know for sure.” She glanced over at him again and caught his gaze.

He grinned back at her. “You know I’m right.”

“I’ll let you know what we find out.”

“Same here,” Isabel promised. “I’m off to the hospital.”

~*~

Colin and Emily breezed through the doors of the Paradise Valley police station. Being Saturday night, there was a uniformed officer behind the reception area, an unfamiliar one, who was not acquainted with Colin yet. He asked for his identification and Colin showed him his badge.

“Oh, sorry, Detective. Go on back.”

Colin slid his key card through the slot and the door unlatched. He pushed it open and held it for Emily to pass through first. They turned the corner and went to Colin’s office where they found Ernie, sitting in Colin’s chair, with his feet propped up on his desk.

Mr. Osterman was seated in a chair across from Ernie, chatting about his latest metal finds.

“Hello, Mr. Osterman,” Emily greeted as they entered the office.

The elderly man looked up over his wire-rimmed glasses and a smile spread across his wrinkly face. “Hello, there, Ms. Parker. It’s good to see you again.” He stuck out his hand and she shook it.

“You remember Detective Andrews, don’t you?” Emily asked.

The old gentleman pushed his glasses up on his nose and studied Colin’s face. “Yes, I think I do. Nice to see you again, too, young man.” He extended his hand to Colin, as well.

Colin shook his hand firmly then moved to the side of his desk. “Ernie?” Colin said as he turned toward the officer, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry.” Ernie pulled his boots down off the desk and dragged himself out of Colin’s chair. The burly officer stepped to the wall and crossed his arms as he leaned against it.

Emily took a seat in the other chair opposite the desk. She leaned forward, toward Mr. Osterman, and addressed him. “I hear you found a gun down by the river.” She knew it was really Colin’s job, but she could tell Mr. Osterman warmed up to her more than to Colin, so she took advantage of it. She hoped Colin didn’t mind.

“That’s a fact. Found it just this afternoon with my new-fangled whachamacallit.”

“You mean the metal detector?” she clarified.

“Yes,” he replied. “That’s what you call it. It was mostly hidden in the mud at the edge of the river. If I’d been scouring the riverbank earlier this summer, the water would have been too high—I would never have seen it.”

Luck was obviously on her side. She hoped her luck would hold out long enough for the county lab to determine this was the gun that was used to kill Evan. If so, she could finally move forward to solve the mystery surrounding his death.

“Where is the gun?” Colin asked Mr. Osternman.

“Bottom right drawer,” Ernie replied, “already in an evidence bag and tagged. It’s a Ruger P345.”

Colin leaned over and pulled out the drawer to see the muddy gun for himself. “So it is. I’ll get it over to the lab first thing in the morning.” He closed the drawer and locked it. “I’d like to see where you found it, Mr. Osterman.”

“Can’t it wait ’til morning? I need to get home and tend to my dog. Snookie needs to be fed and walked.”

“It’s not far from your house, is it?” Emily asked.

“No, I guess not.”

“Then it’ll only take a few minutes, sir. I just need you to show us where you found it, then you can be on your way,” Colin assured him, before turning his attention to his officer. “Ernie, I’m assuming you got the man’s statement?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could you grab a couple of large flashlights on your way out, big guy, so we can see where we’re going?” Colin requested.

“Yep,” Ernie replied, pushing away from the wall.

Colin rose from his chair and motioned toward the door. “Lead the way, Mr. Osterman.”

~*~

Isabel pushed through the doors of the St. Luke’s Medical Center, on her way to find Jerry Banderas, hoping she wasn’t too late for visiting hours. The young lady at the information desk told her he was on the fourth floor and suggested she check in with the nurse’s station once she got up there.

As the elevator glided up to the fourth floor, Isabel thought back over the years she had known this man. He had been a stand-up guy, in her mind, almost a father figure, like an uncle she could go to for advice. It was hard to see him as a murderer, but she was resolute to find the truth of his involvement in Evan’s death.

She had always known Evan as David Gerard, until he left the CIA to marry Emily and move to Paradise Valley, but she had worked hard to see him only as Evan after she followed him to this place. If she slipped up and called him David, Emily would question it, and the mistake could put his life in jeopardy. But he was no longer in need of her help to keep his anonymity—he was dead.

Still, she liked the person he had become as Evan. He was kinder, more caring of others. Picturing him in her mind, his dark blonde hair, those serious gray-blue eyes that could look right through you, and his engaging crooked smile—that was how she wanted to remember him.

The elevator doors parted and she stepped out, not far from the nurse’s station. “I hope you can help me. I’m looking for a patient.”

“Name?”

“Jerry Banderas.”

“Banderas, Banderas, Banderas,” the nurse repeated as she ran her finger down her computer screen. “Yes, room four twelve. Down this hallway,” she gestured toward the corridor, “on your right.”

Isabel turned to look down the hall and saw Delia McCall come out of a room on the right and turn the other direction, toward the stairs. She wondered if Delia had just been visiting with the same person she was there to see.

She walked down the wide, brightly lit hallway, as the nurse had directed, and came to room four twelve on the right. It was the same door she had seen Delia exit. Pushing it open, she saw Jerry lying in the bed, propped up on pillows, with his eyes closed.

“Jerry?” she said softly, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.

His eyes opened slowly and a smile spread across his lips when he saw Isabel.

“Hey, Jerry. I just heard you were in here and I rushed over as soon as I could. What’s going on? Why are you in this place?”

“Pancreatic cancer,” he replied flatly.

“Oh, Jerry,” she sighed. “How come you never told me?”

“I didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for me.”

“You never seemed sick to me, except at the lunch the other day I thought you looked kind of pale. But cancer? I had no idea.”

“That’s the way I wanted it. I only found out myself a couple of months ago. This type of cancer creeps up on you, and bam—you’re a goner.”

“Oh, Jerry, I’m so sorry.” Isabel laid her hand on his as she fought against the tears that threatened to break through. With all her suspicions about this guy, he had been her friend for a long time. “What do the doctors say?”

“That I’m too far gone, there’s nothing they can do but help me manage the pain. I don’t have much time left.”

“Do you have your affairs in order?” Isabel wondered if he would come clean about his involvement with Evan and his connection to Delia McCall, if he would want to get it off his chest before he passed.

“I think so. I don’t really have much to leave anyone, except my pension. A life devoted to my work, in the end, didn’t leave me room for much else, except four ex-wives.”

“Four ex-wives? I thought you’d been married five times?”

“I was. One died.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“I seem to remember you had a couple of daughters. You used to talk about them when I knew him in DC.”

“Yeah. One was killed and the other one has her own life. I didn’t spend much time with my girls when they were growing up. Their mother was my first wife. She’s the one that died years ago.”

“You can be proud of the work you did at the FBI. You’re a good man, Jerry.”

“Not always so good, Isabel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m really tired. I don’t want to talk anymore. Hope you don’t mind but I’d just like to sleep for a while.”

“I understand.” She patted his hands, as they lay folded across his stomach. “I’ll come back and see you again later, all right?”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes.

Isabel stepped out of the room and glanced up and down the hallway, hoping to catch another glimpse of Delia McCall, but she was nowhere in sight.

As she drove home, with the window rolled down, the crisp fall air blew through her long dark waves. Isabel turned on some soothing music and wondered what her friend meant when he said he was not always so good. She suspected he might be referring to his actions concerning Evan, but without proof, and his death not far off, she may never know.

Maybe Delia could shed some light.