Free The Scent of Lies: A Paradise Valley Mystery by Debra Burroughs

second floor. As she began to climb the stairs, the front door opened and Ricardo walked in. He had parked in the front crescent-shaped driveway instead of putting his car in the garage, so she assumed he planned to leave again.
    “Hello, Ricardo. You missed dinner, again.”
    “Sorry, sweetheart, my interviews ran late.” He closed the door.
    “On a Sunday afternoon?”
    “Yes,” he answered defiantly.
    “What interviews?”
    “I’ve decided I need an assistant.”
    “Blonde or brunette?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
    “What are you talking about?” He was playing innocent, as if he didn’t understand.
    “Don’t you think you should have discussed it with me first? I am the boss.”
    “Not for long, my dear,” he mumbled as he turned away.
    “What was that ?” she asked pointedly.
    “I said you’ve made that perfectly clear.”
    Delia didn’t want to argue with him, so she let the comment go, for now. Marcela was probably still tidying up in the kitchen and might overhear them. “I’m too tired to fight. I’m going upstairs to soak in the tub and put on some soothing music. We’ll finish this discussion later.” She dismissed him with a wave and climbed the rest of the stairs. Delia went into her bathroom and closed the door, hoping to relax and escape from her troubles for a while.
    * * *
    Ricardo went into the dark living room and turned a lamp on, kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie as he sat down on the sofa. The phone in his pocket began to vibrate.
    “Hello.”
    “Ricardo.”
    “Anna, you shouldn’t—”   He shot up to his feet. “You know better than to call me here.”
    “I know you don’t like me calling this number, but I have to see you.”
    “You couldn’t have called at a worse time.” He walked over to the foyer and glanced up the stairs to make sure Delia was not within earshot. “Please, Anna, don’t call me here. You’re going to mess up everything.”
    “I need to talk to you, Ric, I’m desperate.”
    “Where are you?” he asked. “I can meet you somewhere later tonight.”
    “Just a couple of blocks away.”
    “All right, if you come quickly, we can talk for a few minutes, I guess. Delia’s upstairs taking a bath, so she’ll be awhile, but she can’t see you. Am I making myself clear?”
    “Yes, I understand. I’ll be there shortly.”
    Ricardo paced while he waited for her, only stopping to dry his palms on his pant legs. There was just a small window of time to talk, otherwise all hell would break loose. A couple of minutes later there was a knock at the door. Marcela came running to answer it.
    “I’ll get the door. I’m expecting someone from work.”
    “Okay, I’ll be in my room then,” the housekeeper said.
    After he watched and made sure Marcela had disappeared down the hallway, he opened the door and let Anna in.
    “Oh, Ricardo.” She threw her arms around his neck.
    He stopped her and pulled them down to her side, noticing she had been crying. Her eyes were red and her runny eye makeup had left dark smudges below her lower lashes. “You need to make this quick. Delia can’t find you here.”
    “I don’t care if she knows about us.”
    “Well, I do. The time is just not right to tell her.”
    “Ricardo, I’m pregnant! You find the right time to tell her, or I will!” She screamed her ultimatum.
    “Shhh! Keep your voice down.”
    She walked over to the stairs and looked up to the top. “Delia,” she hollered boldly.
    Ricardo grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the dimly-lit living room. “You’re such a child,” he muttered angrily.
    “You’re hurting me.” She struggled to pull free.
    “Stop it, right now. You’re being stupid and unreasonable—and you’re going to screw up everything.”
    “Did you just call me stupid?” Her eyes grew big and wild.
    “Well, you’re acting like it,” he barked.
    Anna slapped Ricardo hard, and he slapped her back. She stepped back with a look