Perfect Alibi

by Melody Carlson

  “Besides that, I figure if we’re gonna hole up at your parents’ place for a spell, with our firearms and whatnot, maybe we should get ourselves some provisions first.” He winked at her. “That is, unless you want to hunt some squirrel or rabbit or possum for supper.”

  “No, thanks,” she said as they got out of the car. “I can shoot just fine, but I’ve never been into hunting.” As they went into the store, she tried to replay his words. Had he really insinuated that he planned to stay at her parents’ home with her? Or had she heard him wrong? But as they gathered groceries, it was clear that he was picking out food that he intended to eat, so it seemed safe to assume that he meant to stick around.

  As they made their way to the checkout stand, she looked around the store, curious as to whether anyone suspicious was following them, but nothing really caught her eye. As they went outside with the loaded cart, she noticed a dark vehicle parked off by itself, not far from the parking lot entrance and just out of sight of the sheriff’s department. She elbowed Logan. “See that SUV?”

  “Uh-huh.” He nodded at her without looking at it.

  “Do you think—” Her jangling phone interrupted her and as Logan began unloading the groceries, she answered it. To her huge relief it was her dad. “Oh, Daddy!” she cried. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “That message Logan left had me so worried I didn’t know what to think. And I didn’t even tell your mom something was wrong. She’s having such a good time visiting with your aunt Susan. I didn’t want to send her into a conniption fit. What’s going on there?”

  As Logan continued loading the bags, Mallory got inside and, keeping one eye on the dark SUV through the side mirror, she poured out the whole story as best she could, starting with the murder and her suspicions of Brock. She was explaining about the arson as Logan got into the driver’s seat. “I really thought I’d be safe here, Dad. In my hometown. I thought Clover would be different than Portland.”

  “It’d be different if I was there. I think your mom and I should come home right now and—”

  “I hate to ruin your vacation...your time with your family.”

  “But I can’t enjoy it if I’m worried about you. This is a very serious situation. And I never wanted to say it, but I was always suspicious of Brock Dennison. Even though we never met face-to-face, he’s always seemed a little phony to me. And looks like I was right. Smooth charm on the outside, but a slimy snake underneath.”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “Do you really think he’s a murderer?”

  She explained about his rock-solid alibi. “And that’s why I thought I was safe from him, Dad. I figured I could watch him on the news and know that he wasn’t out there hiding in the woods, ready to pounce.”

  “But if your theory is right, it sounds like Brock got someone else to do his dirty work.” Her dad blew out a long sigh. “That just makes me sick, Mallory. I can hardly believe it. But my point is this, if whoever killed Kestra botched his assignment, he might be even more determined to get to you. I really don’t like this, Mallory. We’re coming home.”

  “I can’t tell you what to do, Dad. But in the meantime, I’d like the combination to your gun safe. Logan and I feel it’s safest to hole up at the house, but we’d feel better if we’re armed. You know?”

  “I agree. But I wish I was there right now.” He gave her the combo, and she wrote it on her palm. “Just promise me you’ll be super careful—remember everything you’ve learned about gun safety.”

  “I promise. And Logan’s familiar with firearms, too.” She noticed the dark SUV moving now, it looked as if it was about to leave. She nudged Logan, and he just nodded with a nonchalant expression, munching on a chip.

  “It’s reassuring to know Logan is there with you. He’s a good man. But I still plan to get home as soon as possible, Mallory. Unfortunately that’ll take a couple days, even if we drive nonstop.”

  “Don’t do that, Dad.”

  “I’m coming home, Mallory. Don’t try to talk me out of it. Seems my only option is to get the soonest flight possible. As soon as I hang up, I’ll check on a red-eye. Maybe I can be there by morning. I’ll leave your mom here, then fly back to rejoin her when I know you’re safe.”

  Mallory looked at Logan. “Do what you need to, Dad. And please don’t worry Mom too much, okay?” Mallory knew how sick her mother could get over worrying.

  “I’ll call you from the airport. And as soon as I hang up here, I’ll give my deputy buddies a call. Ask them to be on high alert for you.”

  Of course, that reminded her of the deputy she’d met today, and she told her dad about the weird encounter. “It was pretty disturbing. I mean, I thought I’d be safe in Clover, and then this deputy acts like he’s going to arrest me.”

  “Between you and me, I don’t trust Trent Fallows. Every once in a while there’s a bad cop—kinda like a bad apple—and he starts to spoil everything. That’s what Trent Fallows is. Anyway, I’ll text you my buddies’ phone numbers and you put them in your phone. You call them directly if you need help. Not the 911 dispatcher—because if you do, it’s likely that you’ll just get Fallows.”

  “Don’t call 911.” She repeated his directions loudly as Logan drove out into the street. “Got it.”

  “Not that you can’t trust the dispatchers, but if Trent’s on duty...well, he’s been under investigation for a while now. But you keep that to yourself, you hear?”

  “You can trust me, Daddy.”

  “I do trust you. But I have one big question for you. Something you haven’t fully answered—at least, not to me. But it’s something you need to sort out if you’re going to resolve this mess.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’re right about Brock, if that snake really is behind Kestra’s murder, and if it was a case of mistaken identity and Brock really wanted you dead—you need to ask yourself why. Why does he want you dead? I know he didn’t want to let you go, Mallory, I get that. But is that really his motive? No offense, honey, but that just doesn’t sit right with me. It seems too extreme. Brock is full of himself. He loves his big newscaster image. And I suspect he’s a narcissist. For him to risk everything by hiring a hit man doesn’t make sense. Not just for being jilted.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” She looked both ways at the next intersection, trying to see if she could spot that SUV. “Especially about the narcissist assessment.”

  “A narcissist doesn’t want to look bad.”

  “I did make him look bad...by dumping him.”

  “But didn’t you say he pretended to be the dumper?”

  “That’s true.” She sneaked a chip from Logan’s bag.

  “So ask yourself...was there anything else you did in your relationship that threatened Brock in such a huge way that he’d want you snuffed out? Something in the workplace maybe? An incident where you embarrassed him? Made him look bad in front of the boss? Tweaked his big narcissist ego some way?”

  Mallory thought hard as she munched. “Brock got really aggravated at me when I was working on a dating and domestic violence story. I told him what I was doing and he got all indignant, like, why did we need to run a story like that? So I reminded him of an accusation against a local college football player and how this was a follow-up story.” She shook her head to remember how Brock had belittled her.

  “Bingo.”

  “You really think so?”

  “It could be the missing puzzle piece. You definitely need to look into it. And I need to get off the phone and book a flight. You be safe now, Mallory. I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  “Be sure to thank Logan for me. I know you’re in good hands with him—until I get there.”

  After she hung up, she followed her dad�
�s directions by thanking Logan.

  “Sorry to eavesdrop,” Logan said in a serious tone, “but I’d like to hear more about that dating and domestic violence story and how it relates to Brock.”

  “Oh...right. So as I researched for that piece, I started to wonder if Brock might possibly have a history as an abuser. Like maybe he’d grown up in a home with domestic violence. I gently asked him about this and even suggested he might need some counseling. And, man, did he blow up on me. You’d have thought I’d suggested he was serial killer.”

  “Sounds like he has something to hide. Did you do any research on him specifically? Check out his past?”

  “No...” She had meant to do that, but everything in their relationship had been so volatile and scary at the time, she’d put most of her energy into safely exiting that relationship.

  “Maybe you need to do more research. Sniff out whatever he’s trying to hide. If Brock’s image is that important to him, it makes sense that he wouldn’t want you to expose any dirty secrets, and if he’s as crazy as you’re suggesting, that could be his motive to shut you up.”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly. “My dad hinted at the same thing.” She knew that putting these pieces together should’ve been encouraging—on some level. But it mostly just reinforced her fear. She glanced at Logan, wishing she hadn’t involved him in her mess. “I know Dad’s really grateful for your help, Logan. And so am I. But if he gets a red-eye flight, he should be here by morning. And you can be off the hook and out of harm’s—”

  “Look what’s up ahead,” Logan said in a somber tone. They were on the back road now, still about ten minutes from her parents’ house.

  “That same SUV,” she said with apprehension.

  “Get down in the seat,” he said quickly. “Keep your head below the door line.”

  “But I—”

  “Now!” He reached over and pushed her head down. “Sorry. But my reason is twofold. One, they might assume you’re not still with me and, two, they might be armed.”

  “What about you?” she demanded as she remained hunched over, her head in her lap.

  “Don’t worry. Just hang on. I’m going to step on it, see if I can blast past and just lose them.” He hit the gas and the Jeep took off. “Or maybe we’re just paranoid and they’re not really waiting for us.”

  “What’s happening?” she asked after about a minute of hunkering down. She knew they were still at least six or seven miles from the turnoff to her parents’ house and this was a fairly isolated road.

  “The SUV pulled out behind us,” he told her. “They’re coming at us fast.”

  “Did you get the license?”

  “Couldn’t see it. Stay down.” He went even faster now.

  Everything in her wanted to poke her head up and peek out, but she respected him too much to disobey his orders—besides that, she was scared. “What’s going on?” she demanded as she felt the Jeep slowing down. “What’s wrong?”

  “The SUV caught up. No chance I can outrun it. They’re tailing like they want to turn us into their hood ornament. So close that I can’t see the license plate, but it’s got one of those plastic covers that makes it hard to read. It’s a late-model black Durango with tinted glass, so I can’t see inside. Stay down and brace yourself, I think he’s getting ready to ram into us.”

  “Ram into?” Just then she felt a hard jolt from behind. “They hit your Jeep?” she cried. “Why are they doing that?”

  “Trying to get us to stop. This does not look good.”

  She felt another jolt from behind, but instead of screaming out as she felt like doing, she reached for her phone. If this was the killer who murdered Kestra—the arsonist who set last night’s fire—there was no telling what he’d do next. So, despite her dad’s warning, she dialed 911. What else could she do until she got the numbers of Dad’s buddies? She had barely explained the situation to the female dispatcher when the Jeep was rammed again, this time knocking the vehicle completely off the road, and the phone tumbled from her hand.

  Mallory felt the Jeep tilting to one side as if it was about to roll. She screamed.

  NINE

  “Hang on, Mallory,” Logan yelled, “we’re about to go four-wheeling.” Holding tightly onto the wheel, he steadied the Jeep out, getting all four wheels back onto the rough terrain. Relieved not to have rolled, he noticed a good-sized opening in the woods and took it, hoping it would run into an old logging road. There were a number of them throughout the National Forest. He and his friends had often taken their four-wheel-drive vehicles out on days like this just for the fun of it. He felt a sense of satisfaction when then citified SUV couldn’t follow.

  “Did we lose them?” Mallory asked from where she was still bent over, grasping the sides of the seat with both hands.

  “They stopped at the turn. I wish they would follow.” He kept his focus on the terrain in front of him as the Jeep bounced along, searching for an old dirt road. “Their SUV was one of those city rigs, low to the ground. This rough ride would tear it apart.”

  “Can I sit up now?”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw nothing but trees behind them. “Sure,” he said as they bumped along. “We lost them...for now.”

  “I was calling 911 after they hit us, but I lost my phone.” She bent down, feeling around on the floor.

  “I thought your dad said no 911 calls.”

  “I know, but I was so scared—and I didn’t have those other phone numbers yet.” She held up her phone victoriously. “The call’s still live.” And suddenly she was talking to the dispatcher. “We managed to lose the vehicle,” she said, describing how they’d been hit from behind and knocked off the road. And then she gave a fairly good description of the SUV.

  “How about if you talk to Logan?” she was saying. “He can fill you in better.” She held the phone out to him and he slowed to a stop as he took it.

  “This Logan McDaniel,” he said in a crisp businesslike voice.

  “Hello, Chief. This is Barbara Hiller. What exactly is going on out there in the woods? Where are you now? And where are you headed?”

  He gave the general location. “I’m not sure what the SUV had in mind,” he admitted, “but we felt our lives were in real danger. The hits were intentional, and I’m sure they wanted me to stop. As far as where we’re headed...” He looked around. “I’m not sure. We might just lie low until the sheriff’s department gets that SUV. Sorry I couldn’t get a license number, but there can’t be too many rigs like that in these parts. And Mallory forgot to mention it was a low-rider. Tinted windows and a plastic-covered license plate. Should be easy to identify it.”

  “I’ll pass that along right now, sir.”

  “We’ll find a safe spot to just chill for a while,” he told her. “You call us back when you find out something or the thugs are picked up. Either this number or my cell phone.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. And you be sure to call back if you have any more trouble.”

  “Thanks, Barbara.” He disconnected the call and handed the phone back.

  He drove a wide circle that took them a mile or so from her parents’ house, but without using the main road. Hopefully, the black SUV would be picked up before long.

  “Where are we?” she asked when he finally came to a stop.

  “Not far from home.” He pointed south. “Your parents’ place is less than a mile from here.”

  “I thought it looked familiar.”

  He glanced at his phone. “It’s been almost thirty minutes since our nasty encounter. I’m surprised the dispatcher hasn’t called back.”

  Mallory seemed to relax now, leaning into the car seat. “It’s so peaceful here... I really don’t mind just hanging out for a while. The view is beautiful.”

  He
looked out at the afternoon sunlight filtering like gold through the pine trees. Very pretty. Now he shifted in his seat and, leaning back into the door, he studied Mallory’s profile, the curve of her cheek, the way the loose dark hair framed her face. “Yeah...you’re right,” he said quietly. “Beautiful.”

  She turned to look at him and, realizing he was watching her, gave a self-conscious smile. “Huh?”

  “You are.”

  “What?”

  “Beautiful.”

  She tipped her head to one side. “Really? Well, thank you.”

  Now he decided to take a risk. Reaching out, he touched her face again, gently pulling her toward him. And when their lips met, she did not resist. It was just as sweet as he’d imagined. But suddenly his phone was jangling in his pocket.

  “Oh,” she said, pulling back. “You better answer that.”

  He pulled the phone out and said a reluctant hello.

  “Hey, Chief, this Barbara again. Good news. They stopped the SUV. It was just like you described. They’ve taken the driver in for questioning, and I can’t give you all the details, but it sounds like they found enough contraband to hold him.”

  “Fantastic!” he exclaimed. “The best news I’ve heard all day.”

  “So the coast is clear,” Barbara assured him.

  He thanked her and hung up, quickly sharing the good news with Mallory. “Looks like we can take you home now.”

  “Great.” She smiled, but he sensed that, like him, she would’ve been happy to have remained there a while. Still, it felt as though the moment had passed. And it would probably be wise to get her safely to her parents’ house. Just because one man had been taken into custody didn’t guarantee her troubles were over.

  “Do you think this will be the end of it?” she asked as they bumped along through the woods. “I mean the end of the threats... I realize I still need to clear my name...and I need to figure out if I’m right about Brock.”

  “I feel hopeful,” he told her. “If the guy driving the SUV was the guy who murdered your friend, I would think that you’d be safe.” But even as he said this, he wasn’t so sure.