Emily’s sister Laura saw me looking at the photo and said, “She picked up mountain biking in LA. Just loved it.”
The rest was the usual stuff crammed into a cop’s desk. Notebooks, a Rubik’s Cube, and a few mementos from different cases. There was also an unmarked metal cigar tube.
Mrs. Parker set the cigar holder down on the table. “I’m glad I never saw her smoke.”
Laura said, “It was like five cigars a year. But they were expensive ones. She loved to smoke Cuban cigars despite the ban.”
When I picked up the cigar holder, it rattled with a weight that didn’t feel like a cigar. I quickly unscrewed the brown base and tipped the holder. A blue pen slipped out and clattered onto the table, breaking the silence in the room.
I picked it up. It was a really nice pen. Expensive. A blue Montblanc.
Laura looked at it in my hands.
I said, “Recognize it?”
Laura shook her head.
I held it close to my face to read the tiny inscription on the pen’s silver clip. It said From BP with love. I read it aloud. Then I looked at both women and said, “Any ideas?”
Mrs. Parker and Laura looked uncertain, then began to chat about who it could be. They mentioned a couple of names. Mrs. Parker said, “Oh, what about Bill Parker?”
Laura looked at me and said, “He’s our cousin.” Then she looked at her mother and added, “He’s too cheap to buy extravagant presents. This seems more like a boyfriend gift.”
Something about the words boyfriend gift made me pause. Then it hit me. BP was Bobby Patel. The pen was a gift from Bobby. I recalled Rhea Wellmy-Steinberg saying Emily had received an unwanted, expensive gift. Despite Bobby claiming that he and Emily were work friends, he had wanted more.
Thinking back to Bobby’s commentary on Rhea Wellmy-Steinberg, I realized he had been leading me toward Rhea. Had he really been trying to cover his own involvement in Emily’s death?
I felt a little shaky as I considered all the possibilities.
Chapter 93
I found myself still holding the cigar tube in my hand. My mind worked overtime. I desperately wanted to find some reason that discounted Bobby as a suspect in Emily’s death.
Mrs. Parker dug around in the box a little more. Then she said, “I thought maybe her ring was in here. It wasn’t found by the police when they recovered her body.” She choked on the word body.
My brain was working on a different frequency. I barely heard her.
Laura said, “Her emerald ring?”
Now I looked up, and Mrs. Parker explained it to me. “When the girls were little, I took them to Tennessee. When we were in Pigeon Forge, Emily wanted to go to the campy little place where you buy sacks of sand and strain it through an old-time waterwheel. Like panning for gold. She found an emerald, and we had it made into a ring. We had to resize that ring six times as she grew older and refused to take it off.”
I noticed Mrs. Parker look off wistfully. I knew she at least had good memories of her daughter. To confirm it was the same ring I recalled, I said, “Can you describe the ring?”
“It had a thin gold band that twisted into a heart at the top. The little square-cut emerald sat right in the middle of the heart. It was sweet. She held it very dear.”
Yes, that matched my memories as well.
I lifted the cigar tube with the pen inside. “Can I hang on to this for a little while?”
“You may have it. In fact, I’d like that.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but I promised I’d give it back.
We packed everything back into the box. Just as I opened the door, I heard a familiar voice. It made me freeze in place. Then I peeked out the crack in the door and saw Bobby Patel chatting up a secretary. He was a different guy in this setting. Cheerful, charming. He even looked well rested.
I had to get Mrs. Parker out of here. We were already committed to going down the hallway. I didn’t want her to have to face Bobby Patel. Even if she didn’t have any idea why she shouldn’t be seeing him.
I quickly ushered the women out of the room. I didn’t take the route the personnel director had mentioned. We turned at the first corner. It made for a much longer trek to the lobby, but I felt like we were moving away from Bobby.
My heart pounded. I couldn’t even think what I’d say if we ran into him. And I certainly didn’t want Bobby to know I was here.
We burst through the door and found ourselves in the opposite corner of the lobby again. I tried not to be obvious as I rushed Mrs. Parker and Laura across the lobby and through the front door. Then I walked them directly to Laura’s Chevy Suburban.