Debra Burroughs - Paradise Valley 02.5 - The Edge of Lies by Debra Burroughs

were dating, her naiveté was one of the things Evan had told her he found enchanting about her—her sweetness and her way of seeing the good in most people—but out in the real world, he’d said, it was a dangerous way to live.
    “You just never know.” Evan put his arm around her and pulled her close.
    His phone began to ring. “Sorry, love,” he said, looking down at the screen, “I’ve got to take this.” He slid his legs over the bench and walked out of earshot.
    His private phone calls always unnerved her. She should have been used to them by now, with the job he’d had in DC and now his work as a private eye, but at times it felt like he was hiding something from her. She shook her head and took a bite of her sandwich—she was just being silly.
    Before long, he rejoined her, dropping down onto the bench. “A lead I’m following,” he said, raising his phone to her.
    She nodded that she understood.
    “I hate to do this, love, but I really need to go out later. Why don’t you call one of your girlfriends to come over for a visit?”
    Emily knew he meant the women from the cooking class.
    “How about that one that came for dinner the other night? What was her name—Isabella?”
    “Isabel. Her name is Isabel.”
    “Yeah, right, Isabel. You girls seemed to hit it off. Call her.”
    Emily fought back a sigh. Apparently, Evan had something urgent to do, something he couldn’t talk about. “Okay,” she said.
    She would much rather have more time with her husband, but since that wouldn’t be an option tonight, she would call Isabel to see if she was free. “It is Thursday, after all. Maybe all the girls could come for dinner.”

Chapter 8
    A shiver of excitement ran across her shoulders, inspiring a smile across her face, as she thought about getting together with the girls. She’d phoned the three women and invited them over for dinner that night, reminding them that they had talked about getting together once a week for a girls-only potluck.
    “This could be our first,” Emily had said, and they all had gladly accepted her invitation.
    Emily proposed salads and cold sandwiches, since it was a hot summer day, and she was relieved when they all agreed. Even though she had been to all six classes, Emily hated to confess that her skills had only slightly improved.
    Isabel was first to show up, carrying a platter of crudités and spicy humus. She and Emily chatted in the living room until the others arrived.
    “Alex seemed to enjoy himself at dinner last Friday night. Am I right?” Emily asked.
    “Yeah. I think he and Evan got along well,” Isabel said. “Maybe we can have you guys over to our house.”
    Emily smiled. “I’d love that.”
    “Is Evan here? We could set a date now.”
    “No, he’s working. He got a call and said he’d be out for the evening.” Emily hugged a decorative pillow as she pulled her bare feet up under her.
    “In his line of work, when duty calls he has to go, I suppose.”
    “But Isabel, he’s a private detective. It’s not like he does what you do at the FBI.”
    “Still, when you’re on a case, chasing leads, sometimes if you don’t stay hot on it, the lead is gone.” Isabel took a sip from the glass of lemonade Emily had served.
    “I guess.” Emily gave a shrug. “I suppose I should be thankful he doesn’t leave for weeks at a time anymore, like he did in DC.”
    “I’m sure he’d rather be here, Emily,” Isabel patted Emily’s knee, “but sometimes things just can’t be helped and work will take him away.”
    “You know, it was Evan who suggested I call you and the girls tonight.”
    A knock at the door drew their attention. Emily hopped up. “That must be Maggie or Camille.”
    She hurried to answer it, with Isabel following close behind. Through the closed door, Emily could hear female voices chattering. She opened it to find Camille and Maggie standing on her porch.
    “Come in, come in,” Emily said, glad to see the rest of her new