Your Alibi

by Annie Dean

  Manu smiled then, making his way barefoot over the gravel like he didn't even feel it. “One question at a time, keiki. Yes, yes, and yes."

  "Oh.” A look Sean couldn't interpret passed between them, and he shifted her in his arms, throttling a surge of irritation at being out of the loop. “On the second line?"

  "Yes.” The big man gathered up all of the bags in his arms and set off toward the house. “I'll take these downstairs.” His tone said a whole lot more than that, but Sean lacked the historic context to sort it out.

  "Thanks, Manu. Let's go in.” She tapped Sean's shoulder regally, and he gathered he was supposed to convey her inside.

  The woman would have done well in Roman times, he thought with a faint smile, six oiled slaves to carry her litter. “Where to?"

  "My room will be fine. I really can walk,” she murmured, as if becoming aware she might be imposing.

  "I don't mind. Not often that I get to play the hero."

  "Stick around.” The careless invitation lanced through him—how he wished he could. She smiled as he carried her over the threshold and added, “There's almost always a fire around here that needs putting out. Sometimes literally."

  Thinking of the minor explosion that sent them into town in the first place, Sean shook his head, wondering why he wanted to laugh. This house had been painted with a liberal amount of crazy, and he didn't mind a bit. Makes for a nice change from constant quiet anyway.

  Lem stood in the foyer, peering at them over the edge of his glasses. “You didn't get married, did you?” He ran a hand through his thinning sandy hair. “I'm pretty sure I'd remember that if you mentioned it..."

  "Oh God,” she muttered. “No, Dad. We just went shopping and..."

  But she'd already lost him, Sean could tell, and the other man interrupted, “Do we have any lighter fluid around here?"

  She sighed and tilted her head against Sean's shoulder. “Ask Manu, he probably has some stashed out back with the grill."

  "Thanks, pumpkin.” Lem wandered off, leaving him to carry Addie to her bedroom.

  As he shouldered the door open, he couldn't help but think this was first time he'd been in here. A little bit messy, but warm and inviting, he decided it suited her, decorated in shades of apricot and tangerine, gold accents and southwestern pottery. He nudged the door shut with his foot and she reached behind him to turn the lock.

  God, he hoped that was a sign.

  Sean started toward reading nook by the window, but she shook her head. “I want to lay down, if you don't mind."

  "Of course not.” He changed course, hoping she'd invite him to stay.

  Doubtless that made him a horny bastard, but then he'd never been one to shy away from the truth. She kicked her shoes off and they sailed across the room to knock a lampshade askew. As he deposited her on the bed, he wondered whether she got naked with the same abandon. His cock leapt at the mental picture, but he tried not to react visibly—the last thing he wanted to do was freak her out.

  "Mmm.” She grabbed a pillow and propped her foot up. “That's 100% better. What a day, right?"

  "Is it always like this?” It felt strange hovering, but he wasn't sure enough of his welcome to sit down beside her until she patted the mattress. Sinking down on the edge of the bed, he tucked one leg under him, close enough to touch, but lacking the confidence to do so. His shoulders ached a little from all the hauling; she wasn't heavy, but she wasn't delicate either. In fact, he'd call her perfect in just about every way.

  Except for the fact that she lies like a rug.

  "To varying degrees,” she answered, looking solemn.

  As she leaned back, her halter slid down, revealing peach bra straps, and pure lust spiked through him. He remembered how she looked, sitting on his hips, breasts bare, remembered how smooth her skin felt. Belatedly, he realized his eyes were probably glazed over, and she was still talking.

  "Dad and Manu, neither of them lived in the real world for the longest time. Manu's better now, though. I think he's going to be okay. As for Dad, I just don't know.” Her mouth tightened, worry or something like it shading her pretty face.

  He loved the little divot in the full swell of her lower lip, the hint of a dimple in her cheek when she smiled. Her chin was sharp, giving her face a vaguely foxy look, and her eyes, so sexy and playful, right now glimmering with gold. The look she'd used on him in the store, begging for a kiss with her gaze fixed on his mouth, just drove him nuts.

  Suddenly Sean realized she was waiting for him to speak and he tried to remember what she'd been telling him. “You've been taking care of them how long?"

  He didn't doubt the rightness of the question. There was no doubt Addie was in charge. The men looked to her for approval and sometimes even permission. Unlikely Lem could function on his own, come to that; he'd probably starve.

  She thought about it, and the memories didn't look like they were good ones. God, he wanted to banish those shadows for a little while. He wanted to see her smiling, wanted to hear her laughing. Wanted her wild with pleasure and then he wanted to listen to her panting afterward while he wrote his name on her glistening skin. Longing tightened his stomach muscles, more complex than the simple lust he'd felt the first time she touched him.

  "About four years I guess."

  "Did your husband help you at all?"

  She cut him a look so sharp he regretted asking. “Ex-husband. And no, Eddie never helped with anything but running up my credit card bills. And goddamn him, he's still doing it somehow."

  Sean didn't want to talk about her ex. Dumb as it was, he couldn't be reasonable where Addie was concerned; he wished nobody had ever touched her. Too bad virgins in their thirties only existed in the pages of romance novels, usually complete with a Big Misunderstanding and a Secret Millionaire. As a kid, he'd stolen a few of his mother's favorites before deciding he'd rather beat off to images of the girl next door flashing her panties rather than try to puzzle out what the couple in the book were doing with a purple-helmeted warrior and a mossy grotto.

  "You need to report those unauthorized charges, baby.” His voice came out sounding gentle and possessive.

  "I will,” she said on a sigh. “I'll take it up with Ben Fuller tomorrow night too. Maybe there's something he can do."

  That made him grind his teeth some more. If he didn't get out of here soon, he was going to need caps on his molars. He was damn tired of men who'd fucked Addie or wanted to, when he was constantly hard and aching.

  "Good idea,” he managed to say.

  She smiled, oblivious to his frustration. “I need to make some calls and then do some work. Thanks for everything, Sean."

  His interest sharpened—all his instincts insisted this was crucial. Even the slow, insistent throb in his cock couldn't blunt his surety. He needed to find out what this was about, but when she reached for the phone and then the laptop on her bedside table, he knew he was dismissed.

  The computer caught his eye; it was sleek and new, high-powered and expensive if he knew anything about such things. He'd be willing to lay money that Addie stored her secrets there too. Certainly there was nothing of importance in her office; he'd quietly rolled the place last night, after failing to get laid.

  Stifling a sigh, he pushed to his feet.

  "I'll bring you some ice for your foot and a cold drink in a little while,” he offered. Maybe he'd overhear something useful and holding a tray gave him a good reason to be lurking outside her door.

  "Mmm,” she said, already listening to messages. “Make it an hour or so. It appears I've got a lot to do this afternoon."

  An hour? Make it ten minutes, and maybe I'll learn enough to go home.

  That knowledge should've elated him, proving he always uncovered the truth, one way or another, but as Sean let himself out, he felt something else entirely, an emotion he didn't dare name.

  Chapter Ten

  Addie crawled out her window, limped behind the house to the garage and started her truck, prayi
ng nobody would hear the engine and come to investigate before she got out on the road. This wasn't a plan that would bear the close scrutiny of concerned menfolk. Her luck held, though, even as the ancient beast backfired.

  As soon as she put half a mile between her and the Grail, she got out her cell phone and hit speed dial. Two rings and then, “Lorene, I need a favor."

  "Are you drunk?"

  "No."

  "In jail?"

  "No!"

  "Then this isn't going to be interesting,” her friend said with judicious finality. “But shoot. Unless this has to do with Fast Eddie."

  She blinked and pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it for a few beats. Sometimes she could almost swear Lorene read her mind, the way she anticipated things. Her tone became wheedling. “Please? He's ruining my life ... you have to help me. It'll be exciting...” She added the last in singsong fashion.

  A gusty sigh from the other end of the line preceded a long silence, wherein Addie swerved around a dead thing and felt a little bit sorry for herself. Here she had a hot man cooking dinner for her back at the Grail, one who'd been sweet as honeycomb in taking care of her sore foot, and she was driving sixty-five in the opposite direction. Manu would keep him out of trouble, though, if he tried to snoop around.

  Addie considered more begging, but decided against it. Lorene would cave because she just didn't have the willpower to resist anything that smelled even vaguely like an adventure. She just needed to be patient.

  "You're not trying to hire my cousin again, are you?” Lorene's tone turned wary. “Because he's still in Pelican Bay."

  "No! I was kidding about that. Mostly.” That night was a blur of margaritas and half-naked men, and she'd certainly done her best to prove she didn't give a shit that Fast Eddie had thrown his pants on every floor in the county before she kicked him out.

  "Okay, tell me what's up."

  "Just get your purse,” Addie said, turning into the Kwik-Stop parking lot. “I'm out front."

  She heard Lorene say, “Oh Christ,” before disconnecting, but maybe a minute later, she came out of the mini-mart looking peeved. “This better be good. I'm leaving Penny Harris in there unattended and you know she likes to eat the inventory."

  "Never mind your Ding-Dongs, this is important."

  "Hey!” Lorene climbed into the truck and shook her head. “You got issues, Addie. Don't you know nothing's more important to a woman than a Ding-Dong? Well, unless she's gay."

  Addie laughed as she pulled back onto the road and headed northwest. “I got Ben Fuller to run Eddie's sheet for me and I have his last known address.” At Lorene's look, she said, “Yeah, I know, I'll probably have to pay him with a hand job, but the important thing is, I think this address is current because he had a parking ticket last week. So we're going up there. If he's home, we're beating the shit out of him, and then we're robbing him blind because most of that stuff was paid for with my money anyway."

  Lorene's green eyes went round. “Have you lost your mind? We'll go to jail for sure. We are not Thelma and Louise!"

  "I hope not. Did you ever watch the end of that? They drove off a damn cliff.” One hand on the wheel, she turned on the old radio and looked for a station that didn't sound like a box of angry snakes. An oldies station came into focus first so she left it there, as the Pointer Sisters belted out I'm So Excited. Lorene, on the other hand, did not look excited, and she was not hiding it.

  "Lord knows you've had some stupid ideas over the years, but this has got to be the worst,” the other woman said finally. “How in the world do you think we'll avoid prosecution, assuming we can hurt him like you want to?"

  "I've got it all planned out,” Addie answered. “We just knock. If he answers we shove him back and mace him, then shut the door. It'll be too fast for anybody to see. Then we bind and gag him while he's blind. Administering a beating will be easy then, and we warn him it'll be worse if he ever uses my credit again. Afterward, we haul the loot down to the truck. If any of the neighbors seem curious, we say we're helping him move. Then we get the hell out of there."

  "What's stopping him from accusing us of assault and robbery?” But Lorene didn't look horrified anymore—Addie recognized that look of old. The idea had shifted from unthinkable to irresistible.

  "Pride,” she said simply. “There's no way in hell Fast Eddie will admit two women kicked the shit out of him. He might report a burglary if he's got renter's insurance, but knowing him like I do, I doubt he does. He'll be furious, but what can he do? He comes around the Grail and Manu will snap his neck, and I'm pretty sure local law enforcement won't look too hard at his death."

  Lorene grinned. “Gonna bribe ‘em all with hand jobs? Seriously, Addie, I ... think this could work. Then again, maybe I've just gone so long without Ding-Dongs that I wouldn't know crazy if it sat on my lap and called me mama. One question, though..."

  "What's that?"

  "Can I mace him? Please? You can beat the shit out of him afterward."

  There was a reason this woman was her best friend in the whole world. “Deal."

  "So where we going anyway?” Her friend rolled down her window too and wind came whipping through the cab.

  Addie pitched her voice louder. “LA. He's got a place on Ventura."

  "Almost three hours in your truck.” Lorene turned her face skyward, peering at the ceiling of the truck. “Why, Lord, why? This woman will give me piles.” She glared and shifted on the badly sprung seat. “We couldn't have taken my car?"

  A giggle escaped her as she sped up, taking the highway toward San Diego. They'd drive up along the coast. “You sounded just like your mama, Lorene. Anyway, your car won't hold enough loot. We're taking that son of a bitch for everything he's got. Plus, I was afraid you wouldn't volunteer if I didn't ... persuade you en route."

  Lorene daintily gave her the finger. “Persuade this. So what if he's not home?"

  She'd been thinking about that too. “Then we look for a way in. He probably has one of those stupid plastic rocks in a flower bed outside."

  Just then, Duran Duran came on and advised them both that they were Hungry Like the Wolf. Addie rubbed her stomach and tried not to remember that she had run away from a nice spaghetti dinner with homemade sauce. On purpose.

  "Sounds like you've got everything figured out,” Lorene said with a sigh. “But I want a Ding-Dong out of this, dammit."

  "You can't have Sean's.” The response popped out before she could stop it.

  "So it's like that, huh?"

  Addie sighed and fiddled with the radio because it was starting to fade. “It's not even halfway to like that."

  "But you haven't told me everything.” She felt her friend studying her as she drove. The old truck rattled alarmingly as the needle on the speedometer nosed toward seventy. Bugs splattered yellow and juicy on the windshield, the cab roaring with hot wind. “Did you touch his penis? Dish!"

  "No,” she said, hesitating. “Not yet. But I'm pretty sure he's married."

  "That no-good rat bastard! Can I mace him next?"

  She shook her head. “There's a lot more to the story and I've been keeping stuff from him too. However it plays out, I doubt we wind up friends afterward."

  "Oh.” With the sharpness that often surprised people who took her for nothing but a ditzy champagne blonde, Lorene said, “This has to do with your online business, doesn't it?"

  Addie glanced at her sharply, as she got into the right lane, intending to stay there. “Yeah, it does."

  "You ever going to tell me what that's all about?"

  "That depends. You ever going to tell me whether you slept with Ronnie Bean?"

  Lorene thought about it. “Probably not. So that's my answer, huh?"

  "Yep."

  They drove in silence for a while. The radio had inexplicably changed to a Spanish station, and when the cheerful strains of La Camisa Negra filled the cab, Addie reflected that the words really didn't match the music. Somewhere past San Diego,
they stopped for gas, Lorene went pee, and Addie bought a box of Ding-Dongs.

  "You do love me!” Her friend pounced on the carton like it contained diamonds instead of frosted cakes.

  Who else would accompany me on a mission like this?

  "You know I do,” she said, smiling. “Now gimme one, I haven't had lunch."

  Lorene narrowed her eyes, a chocolate ring around her mouth. “Say please."

  "Pretty please with sugar on top?"

  "And a cherry."

  "Just give me a damn Ding-Dong already!” Addie glared, swerving toward the shoulder of the road. No stopping, standing or parking signs be damned, she'd get one if she had to wrestle for it. She slowed the truck.

  "Okay, okay, geez. Here. I even unwrapped it for you."

  Mollified, she took a big bite and enjoyed the sticky melting chocolate on her fingers. With a sigh, she said, “I really like him."

  "Who?"

  Addie rolled her eyes. She hated when Lorene played dumb when she knew better than anyone how smart the woman was. Everyone thought opening the Kwik-Stop in the middle of nowhere was a stupid idea, but Lorene had researched trucking routes, and the bulk of her business came from long-haul drivers. She made a good living off them, augmented by the naysayers who came to her store sheepishly in the middle of the night for cigarettes, milk or condoms.

  "Ronnie Bean, who do you think?"

  "I thought you were over that, like, twenty years ago."

  "Lorene!"

  Her friend ate another Ding-Dong and made a production of licking her fingers before she replied. “You really need to get laid, Adelaide. Your patience isn't what it should be. So tell me all about Mr. Tall, Dark and Luscious."

  "He's here under false pretenses,” she said, hating that was true. “I've caught him in a couple lies. But I like him anyway because I suspect I know his reasons. I don't think he's cut from the same cloth as Eddie, but I don't quite trust my own judgment."

  "Oh, sweetie.” Addie felt Lorene's hand on her shoulder and she looked away from the road long enough to offer a bittersweet smile. “Don't worry—I'll vet him for you Thursday night. Between me and my mama, I'm kind of an expert at spotting bastards by now.” Maybe it was just the Ding-Dong high, but the other woman suddenly looked inspired. “I should totally get my own TV show, but instead of What Not to Wear, I'd call it Who Not to Date."