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

show us a few moves, too.”
    “Don’t leave me out.” Camille jumped up. “I’ll bring the refreshments.”
    ~*~
    As both dinner and their conversation were winding down, Emily’s phone began to ring on the breakfast bar and she grabbed it up. “It’s Evan.”
    “Hey, love. How’s dinner with your mates going?”
    Emily looked over at her friends. “We’re having a wonderful time, just eating and chatting away.”
    “I’m glad I’m not there, then. I don’t know if I could survive all that estrogen.”
    “Ha ha,” Emily mocked. She told him about their plan to start up self-defense classes.
    “Sounds like an excellent idea, Em.”
    “I told the girls you could teach us a few moves we could use. Do you mind?”
    “I’d be delighted.”
    ~*~
    Emily rolled onto her side and rested on her elbow. She thought back to how Evan had helped with the women’s self-defense moves. He had been so agreeable. At the time she had thought he was doing it to be supportive of her blossoming friendships, but in retrospect, perhaps he had wanted that for her more than she had known. She could see from the journal pages she had read so far that there was a lot going on that she had no idea about.
    She reached over for her tea, which had cooled to room temperature by now, and briefly wished she had something stronger to drink as she finished reading. A glass of wine sounded perfect right about now. But, with or without fortification, Emily knew she must plow forward.
    She took a large swallow of her tea and turned the next page. It began right after her conversation with him the night of her first dinner with the girls.
    ~*~
    As soon as Evan hung up from his call with Emily, he phoned his friend Roger. Roger had been his best man and was someone whom he had worked closely with in DC. Hopefully he could help solve the riddle of the note from Natalia.
    “Roger, this is Evan.”
    “Who?” There was a long pause. “Oh, right, Evan. Don’t worry, this is a secure line.”
    “Yeah, but I’m not sure this is. Plus, I need to think of myself this way, so I don’t get careless and slip up.”
    “What’s up?” Roger asked.
    “I think someone has found me. In fact, I know someone has.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “A few weeks ago, someone slipped a note to a teenager to pass along to me.”
    “What did it say?”
    “It read I will have justice. Signed Natalia.”
    “That’s it?”
    “Yeah, that’s it.”
    “But Natalia is dead.”
    “I know.”
    “You think someone wants revenge?” Roger asked.
    “Certainly sounds like it.”
    “Why did you wait so long to call me?”
    “I kept expecting someone to make a move, but no one has. So I thought it was time to dig deeper,” Evan said.
    “Let me see what I can find out on this end. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”
    “Thanks, mate.”
    After Evan hung up, he set his phone down on the desk, having to stretch to place it beyond a pile of reports he was working through. He turned back to his computer, which sat to the left, and returned to his research.
    His desk faced the door and this was no coincidence—it not only made it easy for him to greet clients, but it was also the safest way to see a potential threat. Now, through the opaque glass in the top half of his door, he noticed a hazy shadow drift past. Due to the lateness of the hour, he assumed it was probably cleaning staff, or someone who worked in the building on their way to one of the other offices.
    Then, the old brass doorknob turned and Evan heard the click of it releasing, just as his phone began to ring. As he reached over the stack of files to grab his phone, a bullet whizzed past his head.
    The door opened a little more, with the shooter apparently hoping for another shot. Instantly, Evan bounded around the desk and, seeing the nose of a gun protruding, he slammed the door against it, causing the gun to fumble in the shooter’s hand.
    The scent of gunpowder hung heavy