I was talked out, exhausted and worn down from my day. I needed a little peace before I was ready to talk to anybody—even Barry and Mason. The phone rang and I thought about not answering it but finally gave in. Emily sounded frantic when I answered.
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “Some homicide detective thinks I killed Bradley. It’s nonsense. Of course I didn’t do it.” She let out a yelp of consternation. “Those reporters keep ringing the bell. Can’t they leave me alone?”
I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just Detective Heather who thought she’d killed Bradley. Everyone I’d talked to thought she was the guy. Even though I’d expressed some doubts, it was hard for me to believe it was anyone else. Did I want to invite a possible murderer over, particularly since it was because of me that Detective Heather knew that she’d been up there with Bradley? His body might not have been found for days. In other words she might have a grudge against me. And if you’ve killed one person . . .
I told her I was sorry for all of her trouble, but right now was a bad time. Maybe tomorrow. I figured by then I’d have thought of some way out of it. She breathed heavily a few times and clearly wasn’t pleased with my answer and hung up.
I made myself a cup of camomile tea and the sweet flowery scent filled the air as I took it to the kitchen table. It was supposed to be relaxing and I hoped it would work its magic. I took a sip and closed my eyes. I hadn’t realized how hunched my shoulders were and I made a conscious effort to lower them. Just when I was beginning to feel a little better, I heard someone pounding on the window of the back door. When I looked up, Emily was looking in on me. Before I had a chance to think of what to do, the door pushed open and she came inside.
Her eyes had a crazed look and I swallowed hard, glancing around the kitchen. The block with the knives was on the counter in plain sight.
I mumbled something about wondering how she’d gotten past all the reporters. She stood in front of the large windows facing my backyard and pointed toward the white bench Mason and I had used to climb over. She’d noticed me standing on it when I’d thrown the afghan over the fence. She’d been able to step on her hose holder and then hold on to the shed in her yard while she stepped over the fence and onto the bench. She’d done exactly what Mason and I had in reverse. I suddenly felt very alone in the big house. Blondie had gone back to her chair. Only Cosmo had responded to the sound of the door opening. He seemed confused. He knew her, but something about the way she was acting seemed strange. The small black dog sat down across the kitchen and watched her.
I jumped up from the table, wanting to put some space between me and Emily. I grabbed the broom and started sweeping the floor, thinking of its potential as a weapon.
“I need to talk to you,” she said. Her short choppy breath was a sure sign of anxiety.
“What about your girls? You didn’t leave them home alone?” I said. She took a step closer to me and said Bradley’s sister, Madison, was with them next door.
“I was trying to figure out how that police detective even knew I was with Bradley. I was so careful to make sure none of the people investigating Bradley’s business followed me, I knew it couldn’t be any of them. Then I realized it was right after you’d given me the afghan. It was you, wasn’t it?” Emily looked at me intently.
I clutched the broom a little tighter. It didn’t matter that I didn’t answer, she repeated that it was me.
My heart was pounding and I considered what to do. She started talking, the words tumbling out of her mouth.
She had believed the suicide note and thought Bradley was dead until the night I’d seen the motorcycle. “I heard some noise, and when I went out in the driveway, Bradley was coming out of the bushes. He didn’t see me at first and I’m pretty sure he would have just gotten on the motorcycle and left if I hadn’t moved, triggering the motion-sensor light. As soon as he heard the police helicopter in the distance, he begged me to hide the motorcycle and him.
“He admitted he’d gambled away all the investors’ money. All his supposed business trips to Vegas weren’t to see clients. He kept thinking he’d win it back.” She looked disgusted. “Like that ever happens.”
Someone had complained to the Securities and Exchange Commission and Bradley knew that once they looked at his books, they’d figure out what he’d done. “He said he wasn’t going to go to prison,” she said. He told her the fake suicide had been a hasty plan. Mason and I had been right. Bradley had put a newly purchased motorcycle in the back of the SUV. He parked the Suburban in the Long Beach Terminal parking lot and put the motorcycle in the spot next to it. He used a credit card to buy a one-way ticket on the Catalina Express. Midway on the trip he planted his wallet and cell phone on a bench. It’s a slow time of year and there were plenty of empty spots on the boat so nobody noticed what he did. Just before the boat reached Catalina, he alerted a crew member about the wallet and phone. “I didn’t recognize him in the crowd getting off the boat because he put on a thick coat and a baseball cap,” Emily said.
She explained that he’d merely bought a return ticket with cash, gone back to Long Beach and left on the motorcycle. He’d dropped the suicide letter in the mail. His plan was to ride across the border into Mexico and disappear. “He said it was better for me if I thought he was dead.”
“Why’d he come back?” I asked.
“It was for his watch and the afghan. With all that he’d done, who would figure that he was sentimental. He said it wasn’t about the value of the Rolex Bond watch, but because his father had given it to him. His sister had made the afghan for him. I didn’t have either. The watch was still at the shop for cleaning and I had given you the afghan. He insisted he had to have them. He had kept some traveling money and if I could get those items for him, he’d share some of the money.” Emily tried to read my face to see if I was judging her. “I was up against a wall. Everything was frozen or canceled. I have children,” she wailed. Getting the watch had been no problem, but after telling me that she didn’t like the afghan and never wanted to see it again, she thought it would look suspicious if she asked for it back. Since she just thought he wanted it as something from his sister, she had asked her to make another one for Bradley. There wasn’t a lot of time and Madison had whipped up something on a big hook with bulky yarn.
By now Madison knew what her brother had done, but when she heard how he felt about the afghan, she wanted to see him one last time.
Emily detailed the convoluted plan to meet Bradley, and how she’d given him the two items. I asked why she didn’t turn him in.
“He was my husband and I loved him,” she said as if it was an of course. “Bradley assured me that once they got investigating they’d realize I had nothing to do with any of it and leave me alone.”
Then everything had gotten weird. “He hadn’t looked at the afghan until after we left. He called and yelled that he didn’t just want an afghan his sister made, he had to have the original one. I told him it was gone and I couldn’t get it. But he kept calling me and started offering more and more money for it and I was feeling desperate.”
I was feeling a little desperate myself. It had been my experience that when people did a whole lot of confessing like this, they planned to kill you. I clutched the broom tighter, ready to start swatting.
She kept on talking, describing how she and Bradley used to walk in the mountains and he’d arranged for them to meet at a familiar spot. He’d checked the afghan that time, and when it was the right one, he’d handed over the promised money. She slouched in despair. “That police detective kept hammering away at me. ‘You’ll feel better if you tell the truth. Just tell me what happened and we can work something out.’ On and on,” Emily said, getting agitated. She walked to the counter. I knew what was coming next. Any second she’d start telling me she had killed Bradley and all the reasons why. Then she’d say she was really sorry, but now that I knew, she’d have to get rid of me, and she’d grab one of my knives and stab me. But I was ready for her. I’d clock her with the broom as soon as her hand even got near a knife.