Perfect Alibi

by Melody Carlson

  “I don’t know.” She glanced over to where she’d heard the noise, trying to slow down her pounding heart. “Anyway, I’m awake now,” she said nervously. “I know you wanted to finish questioning me about the fire...and stuff.”

  “Great,” he told her. “I’ll be back there in a few minutes.”

  After she said goodbye, she hurried back inside, locking the door again. She knew she was probably overreacting. Or maybe not. Would she ever stop second-guessing her every move? To distract herself, she focused her thoughts on Logan and suddenly decided that she wanted to put her best foot forward. Grabbing up her purse, she hurried into the master bathroom and peered into the brightly lit mirror. There probably wasn’t much she could do about the strained look on her face or the shadows beneath her eyes, but she made sure she didn’t have drool marks on her chin before she applied some lip gloss and mascara. She was just finishing when she heard a loud knocking on the front door. The sound made her jump, but reminding herself it was Logan, she hurried to let him in.

  “Did you check out the window to see who was at the door before you unlocked it?” Logan paused to secure the dead bolt after he closed the door.

  “No, I didn’t think of that,” she admitted.

  “Well, you probably should,” he said in a somber tone.

  “Meaning?” She studied him closely, wondering if—like her—he was becoming aware of the potential danger.

  “Meaning that fire was definitely arson. And it’s different from the other arson fires I’ve investigated recently. None were set this close to a house. Plus the incendiary device doesn’t match.” His expression was very serious. “I think you’re right to be concerned for your safety, Mallory.”

  Strangely enough, she didn’t feel nearly as worried as she’d felt before. Maybe it was because he seemed concerned, or simply because he was here with her. It was easy to be frightened when she was alone in the dark of night. But somehow, with the sun shining and seeing Logan in front of her, tall and strong and handsome, and acting so protective of her...it changed things. It was just what she needed. Well, that and some food. Her stomach rumbled loudly as if to confirm this.

  “You hungry?” He pointed to her midsection.

  She gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess so. I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate. I think it was yesterday morning...a stale donut.”

  “That’s not good.” He grimaced. “I’m getting hungry, too.”

  “I wish I could offer you something here, but my efficient mother cleaned out her fridge before they left. Although there’s always the pantry. There’s always something in there. Soup or—”

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said suddenly. “Let’s go to town. Let me take you to lunch, Mallory.”

  Even though this hadn’t been her original plan—she’d wanted to lie low for the whole weekend—she couldn’t say no to him. To be fair, she’d probably agree to almost anything he suggested. Something about this guy—maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was his smile, maybe it was his fire chief badge—made her feel safe with him.

  Logan suggested she ride with him and, once again, she agreed. “Will you run the siren?” she teased as he opened the passenger door for her.

  He laughed. “I can if you want.”

  She waved her hand. “That’s okay. No need to draw unnecessary attention.”

  As he drove to town, he asked her some rather general questions about Brock. She could tell by his tone that he was having difficulty believing that the popular Channel Six newscaster would have sneaked over here and ignited a forest fire. And who could blame him? In the light of a warm summer’s day, it sounded preposterous—even to her.

  Even so, he did appear convinced that something was seriously amiss. “It doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,” he said as they came into town, “that you received that threat shortly after the fire was set. I’m not sure what’s going on, Mallory, but I’d like to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, I’m not sure that it’s safe for you to be at your parents’ house. Do you have anyone in town you can stay with?”

  She considered this. “I can’t think of anyone offhand...” She suddenly remembered the break-in at her apartment...the image of Kestra on the bathroom floor...and all feelings of safety evaporated. “I’m not sure I like the idea of staying with someone...putting them in danger, too.” Her earlier hopefulness seeped away, replaced with apprehension and fear.

  “You okay?” he asked as he turned onto Main Street.

  “Uh, yeah...just thinking.”

  “About Brock?”

  “Sort of.” Mallory felt uneasy at the realization that she still hadn’t told Logan about what happened to Kestra. How did one begin to tell something so horrendous? Even talking to the detectives yesterday had been difficult. As devastated as she was for Kestra, Mallory wished there were a way to just purge the whole thing from her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it to Logan—to confess that she was considered a suspect. But he needed to hear the whole story. It was only fair.

  “You mentioned that you, uh, you don’t watch the Portland news much,” she said carefully as he pulled up to The Lone Pine Diner. “But you probably have some news sources, right? You read it online...or in the newspaper?”

  “Sure.” He waited as a car exited a space in front of the restaurant. “It’s not like I live under a stone.” He chuckled as he pulled into the space. “Well, some people might think I do. But, yeah, I try to keep up. Although I’ve been pretty absorbed with these arson investigations this week. I’m probably behind on current events.”

  “Yeah...right...” She took in a deep breath as she reached for her purse. “So have you heard about the young woman who was brutally murdered in Portland just two days ago? Wednesday night...” She could hear the flat tone in her voice—emotionless and dead.

  “Not that I can recall.” He gave her a slightly puzzled look. “Why?”

  She twisted her purse handle. “Well, maybe I should tell you about it.”

  He frowned as he removed the key from the ignition. “Okay, but let’s go in and get something to eat.”

  “Definitely,” she declared with relief. “You’re right. We need food.”

  “Yeah. Never discuss murder on an empty stomach...right?” He gave her a lopsided smile.

  As they walked into the restaurant, Mallory called on all her self-control to push every thought of Kestra’s grisly murder from her mind. Right now she needed to focus on getting some nourishment. Something she hadn’t had for days. And without the basics like food and sleep, she would be useless, anyway. At least she was safe right now. In a public place. Logan by her side. It seemed unlikely that anything could go wrong. As they entered the diner, a county deputy at the counter exchanged greetings with Logan. See? she asked herself. How much safer can it get?

  After they were seated at a corner table, Logan grew somber. “I know we have a lot of serious talking to do,” he began, “but while we’re eating, let’s just keep it light, okay? Better for digestion.”

  She nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”

  He looked relieved. “And we can use this time to get reacquainted. I want to hear about your job in Portland and why you were able to give up our sweet little town of Clover to live in the big bad city.” He grinned as he picked up a menu. “All right, that’s not fair. I know lots of folks who would choose city living over this. It’s just that I happen to like it here.”

  “There’s a lot to like,” she admitted. And right now it was more appealing than ever. The thought of returning to Portland...to her apartment...her job...it sounded as daunting as climbing Mount Everest.

  “So tell me about your career.” Logan laid his menu down, listening intently as Mallory told him about taking journalism in college. “I’d always dreamed of working on a TV news show, but everyone
acted like it was the impossible dream.”

  Mallory paused as a pretty young waitress named Corkie took their order. She didn’t recognize her, but Corkie was obviously on friendly terms with Logan. And why not? But, unless it was Mallory’s imagination, Corkie was being pretty chilly to her. Not to mention staring rudely. Maybe it was Mallory’s rumpled-looking suit. Whatever the case, Mallory was glad when Corkie finally left.

  Mallory continued to tell Logan about her job, moving from college to her internship at the television station. “It was so amazing to get it. Especially since it seemed like half of the journalism students had applied for it. Mom told me I landed it because all her church friends had been praying for me. And then, after just one year, they took me on as a full-time staff writer. The youngest one they’d ever hired.” She smiled to remember how good that had felt. But then her smile faded when she remembered what Brock had told her...after she’d broken it off with him.

  “What’s wrong?” Logan asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” It wasn’t so much that she wanted to keep it from him, but as he’d suggested, they should eat this meal in peace. She took a slow sip of water, trying to erase Brock’s vengeful words from her mind. You only got this job because I put in a good word for you, he’d told her. Without me, you’re nothing. You’ll see.

  Mallory forced a smile. “Enough about me. I want to hear about your career. I know you’re the fire chief and, according to my dad, you’re the youngest chief Clover has ever had.” She held up her water glass in a toast. “Here’s to you and me having something in common.”

  He clicked her glass with twinkling eyes. “Here’s to having a whole lot more in common.”

  She felt her cheeks warm but hoped that his words would come true—that they would get better acquainted and then...who knew?

  He told her about attending college while volunteering as a firefighter, and how he’d felt lucky to get a job in his hometown. “I don’t know if you heard, but my dad died while I was in college. I wanted to be around to help my mom and sis.”

  “I’m so sorry about your dad,” she told him. “I hadn’t heard. That’s so great you can be here for your family.”

  They continued to visit until their lunch was served. Fortunately the diner was busier now and Corkie didn’t loiter long, but she did give Mallory a slightly glowering look. Was it possible that she was jealous? That seemed silly. And silly to fret over it. Especially since, for the first time since Wednesday night, Mallory felt ravenous. As they ate their food, they continued to chat congenially. Almost as if this was a date. And Mallory felt like a normal person. Almost, anyway. But it did give her hope.

  “Logan!” A redheaded woman in a dark blue uniform came up to their table with a big smile on her face and a newspaper in her hand. “I was just looking for you.”

  “Oh.” Logan’s smile looked stiff. “I stayed on to investigate at the Myers’ place. I’m on my lunch now.”

  “I can see that.” The woman stared at Mallory with a creased brow.

  Logan looked at Mallory. “This is Winnie Halston,” he said politely. “She’s one of my firefighters.” He looked back up at Winnie. “And this is Mallory Myers. She’s Deputy Myers’ daughter and—”

  “Oh, I know exactly who she is.” Winnie waved her newspaper. “In fact, she’s on the front page of this morning’s newspaper.” She pointed to a photo of Mallory, next to a photo of Kestra.

  “What’s that about?” Logan looked understandably confused.

  “You didn’t know that Mallory is a suspect in a pretty gruesome murder case?” Winnie’s auburn brows arched high.

  “What?” Logan looked from Winnie to Mallory.

  “You weren’t aware that you’re having lunch with a murderer, Logan?” Winnie laughed, nudging Mallory in the arm with her elbow. “Oh, I’m sure you’re innocent, honey. I mean the police wouldn’t have let you out if you were guilty, would they? But, hey, you’re on the front page. Must be thrilling.”

  “Not really,” Mallory said in a flat tone. “In fact, Kestra was my best friend and I’ve been—”

  “I know!” Winnie waved her newspaper. “Says here that you and the murder victim were in a love triangle with Brock Dennison.” She turned to Logan with wide eyes. “You know who that is, don’t you? Just the hunkiest news guy in the Northwest. I watch him every chance I get. At six and eleven. Brock Dennison.” She said his name dreamily. “No wonder he’s got girls fighting over him.” She laughed.

  “What on earth are you saying?” Logan demanded.

  “Oh, it’s all right here.” She dropped the newspaper on his empty plate. “Hear ye, hear ye, read all about it.”

  “Just because it’s in the paper doesn’t mean it’s true,” Mallory said in a wooden tone. She felt her stomach turning as she clenched her fists beneath the table. “News writers don’t always get their facts straight.” She looked at Logan. His eyes were locked on the newspaper and his expression was grim as he stared at the article on the front page.

  “Maybe so,” Winnie said back to her. “But you know what they say...where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mallory demanded.

  “It means I think it’s a little suspicious that a murder suspect shows up here while her parents are gone and suddenly their house nearly burns down.”

  “What?” Mallory glanced over at Logan, but he was still intent on the newspaper.

  “Strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “I honestly don’t know what to think,” Mallory said in all sincerity. “But I’m pretty sure that the same person who killed my friend is responsible for the fire, too.”

  “Yep.” Winnie gave a victorious nod. “Just what I am saying.”

  “Huh?” Mallory felt slightly dazed now.

  “Sorry if I interrupted your lunch.” Winnie patted her on the back. “But I just thought it was pretty exciting to think that a murderer—from our own little town—has been dating Brock Dennison. And to be a murder suspect and possible arsonist, well, it just has the makings for a real good Lifetime movie.” She nudged Logan. “Don’tcha think?”

  Logan just rolled his eyes. “I think you’ve made your point, Winnie. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

  “You coming back to the station?” she asked as she moved away from their table.

  “Yeah. My shift is over at three. I’ll be back before that to do my reports.” As he stood, he pulled out his wallet and tossed a twenty down. “Come on.” He reached for Mallory’s hand. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Leaving the detestable newspaper on the table, he led her toward the door, but before they could exit, Corkie came out and spoke to Logan in a low voice. “I heard what Winnie just said,” she said. “I thought that was who you were with, but I didn’t want to be rude and say so.”

  “Gotta go,” he said abruptly.

  “You be careful,” Corkie called out.

  “Always am,” Logan called back as he opened the door.

  Mallory felt her stomach churning as they went outside into the hot sun. She hoped she wasn’t going to throw up again. She’d done enough of that on Wednesday night. Logan was still holding her hand as he led her to the pickup. He said nothing as he opened the passenger door and helped her in. His gestures were polite, but his expression was grim. Mallory knew she had some explaining to do.

  SIX

  Logan wasn’t normally speechless, but the scene in the diner had left him feeling somewhat blindsided. Not to mention furious. What in the world was going on here? He glanced at Mallory as he started his engine. How was it possible that this sweet and slightly helpless girl—the one he wanted to take in his arms and protect—was a murder suspect? How could that be?

  But instead of reacting in anger, he knew from experience that it was better to wai
t. Count to ten...or a hundred, if necessary. It was one of the traits that had probably helped him to earn the position as fire chief. As he turned off Main Street, he considered this factor—how did it look for the Clover fire chief to be consorting with a murder suspect? Not that he wanted concerns for his image to control his life. But he did have a certain responsibility.

  “I want to explain,” Mallory said quietly. “Everything. If you’re willing to listen, that is.”

  “Of course, I’m willing to listen,” he said in a slightly sharp tone. “I just wish you would have told me sooner.”

  “I wanted to tell you about it before lunch,” she said slowly. “Remember, I tried to broach the subject? But you said we shouldn’t discuss murder on an empty stomach.”

  “Right...but I had no idea we were talking about a murder where you’re the suspect.” He headed for the city park, which was fairly void of visitors today. Probably due to the afternoon heat. He found a somewhat secluded spot in which to park, but as he walked around to open her door, he felt torn. Was he being a complete fool to further this relationship? The smart thing might be to take this girl back to her parents’ house and forget all about her. Or maybe his gut was right—maybe Mallory truly was an innocent small-town girl who’d gotten caught up with something foul...and was in need of his help. As he gave her a hand to get down from the truck, he sincerely hoped it was the latter.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you all this before,” Mallory said as they sat down on a shady park bench. She looked at him with tear-filled brown eyes. “I tried to think of a way to explain it this morning, when I was telling you about Brock...but it’s just so complicated. I didn’t want you to think less of me, and I couldn’t think straight.”

  “I can understand that.” He spoke slowly, trying to appear more patient than he felt. “How about you tell me now. Just start at the beginning, okay? I need you to tell me everything. And just remember that this conversation is part of the ongoing arson investigation. I need all the facts.” He pulled out his notebook and waited.