Her Alibi

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Her Alibi Page 3

by Carol Ericson


  “I showered and changed first, but I didn’t waste much time.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Cell phone? The police are going to pull your records. They’re going to know your phone was at Niles’s house last night at precisely the time he was murdered.”

  “I didn’t have my phone with me.”

  His head jerked back. “You didn’t have your phone? Who doesn’t carry their cell with them?”

  “My battery has been dying on me. I left it at home, charging. I thought I’d be walking up to the bar to meet Niles for a quick drink, a discussion and those files.”

  “And then you drove down here with it turned on? They’re gonna see that, too.”

  “Foiled again.” She held up one finger. “I turned the phone off when I plucked it off the charger. It’s off even now.”

  His eyebrows formed a V over his slightly sunburned nose as he pinned her with a slitted gaze before turning away from her.

  The look sent a chill up her spine. Despite her explanation, he was wondering why she hadn’t brought her phone with her to the bar...but he’d see she’d been telling the truth about her phone.

  “If the police don’t believe you...or me, they can track your license plate. There are cameras on the highway between here and La Jolla. If they want to, all they have to do is enter your license plate number and—” he flicked his index finger against his thumb “—they could get a hit, placing your car on its way to San Juan Beach today instead of last night.”

  “I removed my plates.”

  Connor swung around, his longish hair brushing his shoulders. “You could’ve been pulled over for not having plates.”

  “I figured it was worth the risk for just the reason you mentioned. Did you think I wasn’t listening to you all those times you went on and on about police work and new innovations?” She tapped the side of her head. “It fascinated me. I was listening.”

  “What’s your story?” He folded his arms, ready to listen.

  “I was upset after meeting with Niles. I made him drop me off near my house, and then I hopped in my car and came down here to see you.” She strolled to the window and rested her forehead against the glass. “I was here at the time he was getting stabbed.”

  “Why would you rush to my place? We haven’t seen each other in four years, not since your marriage.”

  “We were...in love. Everyone in San Juan Beach knows that. I never got you out of my system. Never forgot you. Never stopped wanting you back.” Her breath fogged the window, and she drew a line through the condensation.

  The silence yawned between them until she couldn’t take it anymore. She did a slow turn and met his eyes. “Is that...believable?”

  “I suppose it could fool some people.” The frost dripping from every word made it clear she hadn’t fooled him. “But we’re gonna have to make it stick.”

  “How? What do you mean?”

  “You can’t go running back to your former lover and then leave him a few days later to get back to managing your multimillion-dollar company and spending Niles’s life insurance money.”

  “I could if my lover rejected my advances.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “He wouldn’t?”

  “You wouldn’t have turned to him in your hour of need if you didn’t think you’d meet fertile ground. If I’m going to lie for you, you’re going to have to see this through. You’re going to have to stick around for a while to give this story legs.”

  “I can do that—if you’ll have me.”

  He leveled a finger at her. “I’m not going to get caught in this lie. I’m not going down for you—no matter what you and your mother did for my dad.”

  “I understand. It’s in my best interest that we don’t get outed—life or death, actually.”

  “Did you pack a bag or rush to me with just the clothes on your back?”

  “Of course I packed a bag. It’s in my trunk.”

  “I’ll get it.” He held up one hand. “Keys.”

  She grabbed her purse from the floor by the sofa and dragged her keys from a side pocket. She tossed her key ring to him, and he caught it with his outstretched hand.

  “Be right back.”

  She watched him for a few seconds out the window and then turned, her lips twitching into a smile. It had been time to play her ace in the hole, but she knew she could get Connor to come around to her way of thinking. Even though he’d been a cop once upon a time, he had no regard for the police anymore. No trust in authority. Not much trust in her.

  She sauntered toward the hallway and peeked into the first bedroom, the master suite, which Connor had transformed with dark woods and rich jewel tones. She didn’t know he had such good taste—unless he’d had help.

  She’d come to San Juan Beach with confidence that Connor didn’t have a woman in his life. She still had her spies in this town, and they kept tabs on Connor for her. It wasn’t exactly stalking—just a healthy interest in the one man she’d love forever, but could never have.

  The front door slammed and Connor yelled out her name, as if she weren’t down the hall.

  She tripped back toward the living room and poked her head around the corner. “What’s the commotion?”

  “What the hell is this?” He waved a plastic grocery bag above his head.

  “I don’t know what you have there.” She wrinkled her nose as she eyed the bag.

  He yanked on the handles, pulling it open. “You don’t know what this is?”

  Her heart pounding against her rib cage, she crossed the room on shaky legs.

  Connor thrust the open bag under her nose, and she staggered back...away from the sight of the bloody knife.

  “Savannah, tell me the truth. Did you kill your ex?”

  Chapter Three

  Connor studied Savannah’s face as she peered into the plastic bag at the bloody knife.

  Her big violet eyes widened, and her lips parted. Those eyes, a color he’d never seen before in his life, and the long lashes that framed them gave Savannah a look of innocence—but he knew better.

  Who thought to leave a cell phone at home and remove a car’s license plates without something to hide?

  Savannah’s bottom lip quivered as she dragged her gaze from the bloody evidence in front of her to his face. “I—I don’t... No!”

  She spun away from him, clutching her belly. “I didn’t put that in my car. You found it in my trunk?”

  “I found it in the spare tire well.”

  “Why were you looking in there?” She glanced at him over her shoulder, her mouth tight as if she blamed him for the presence of the knife.

  The knots in his gut tightened. He wanted to trust Savannah, believe her crazy story. God, he loved this woman...once.

  “The corner of the cover wasn’t lying flat, so I lifted it. The bag looked out of place. What’s it doing there, Savannah? Is it the murder weapon?”

  “How do I know?” She lifted her shoulders to her ears and turned to face him. “I’m telling you, Connor, I blacked out when I got to Niles’s place.”

  “The point being, you could’ve got into an argument with him, continued your argument from the bar even and...”

  “Stabbed him multiple times in the back?” She shook her head back and forth.

  “Maybe it was self-defense.” He tied the handles of the bag together and placed it on the floor by the front door—not that he could leave it there. “Maybe the fight got physical, and he attacked you with a knife. You got it away from him and struck back.”

  “That’s insane, Connor. I didn’t have any...” She stopped and touched the back of her head with her fingertips.

  “Any what? What’s wrong?”

  “I have a bump on my head. I was going to say I didn’t have any injuries, but I have this lump on the back of my sku
ll and these cuts on my hand.”

  His feet had been rooted to the floor ever since he’d entered with the knife and a terrible dread in his gut. Now a new urgency propelled him forward.

  He took Savannah by the shoulders. “Turn around.”

  She presented her back to him, and a silky fall of dark hair rippled across her shoulders.

  He nestled his fingers in the strands of her hair and slid them up to her scalp.

  She winced and sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Here?” He traced a large, hard knot on Savannah’s head.

  “Ouch. That’s the spot.”

  “You didn’t have that before you woke up this morning?”

  “No. I don’t think the skin is broken, and I didn’t notice any blood in my hair.”

  “He could’ve pushed you, and you fell back against something.”

  “Maybe that’s why I blacked out. Oh, Connor.” Dipping her head, she pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what happened last night.”

  His hands dropped to her shoulders again and he massaged his thumbs between her shoulder blades. “We’re going to figure it out, Savannah.”

  “And what if we figure out I’m responsible for Niles’s death?”

  He turned her around to face him and kissed her forehead. “We’ll deal with it.”

  “And what about that?” She pointed a slightly trembling finger at the bag by the door.

  “We should get it tested for blood and fingerprints.”

  She jerked back from him. “Are you crazy?”

  “I thought you wanted to find out who killed Niles.” He folded his arms and dug his fingers into his biceps to keep from touching Savannah again. That never seemed to end well for him.

  “Yes, but how are we going to ID blood and prints from the knife without taking it to the police?” She sliced a hand through the air. “I’m not doing that, Connor.”

  “I think I can work around that.”

  “Connections?”

  “Maybe a few.” His father had been police chief in this town for over twenty years, before the sheriff’s department took over and swallowed up the San Juan Beach PD. “In the meantime...”

  “In the meantime, get rid of it.”

  “I’ll find a place.” He aimed his foot at the suitcase he’d dragged in with the knife. “Why don’t you unpack and get ready for our first appearance?”

  “Our first appearance where?” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

  “In public. If you showed up on my doorstep last night, we’d be out and about by now...or at least we should be to prove you’re here.”

  “Makes sense.” She tossed her wound-up hair over her shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Like you pointed out earlier, I owe you for what you and your mom did for my dad. You never let me repay you for that.”

  “Because even though Mom and I lied...and said Chief Wells killed my stepfather in self-defense, it still led to your dad’s death.”

  Connor gritted his teeth. “Self-defense or not, it would’ve ended for Dad that way. Your stepfather’s associates were not going to let anyone get away with killing Manny Edmonds without payback.”

  “My mom was always grateful for...what your father did.”

  “My dad would’ve done anything for your mom.” Apparently it ran in the Wellses’ blood to do anything for the Martell women. Dad’s devotion to Savannah’s mother had broken up his marriage to Mom and ended his life. And Connor’s own devotion to Savannah had strained his relationship with his mother. How would this latest association end?

  “Brunch?”

  “What?” Connor ran a hand down the side of his face.

  “I’m going to change while you get rid of that knife. Are we having brunch or lunch out to show my presence in San Juan Beach?”

  Savannah sure seemed anxious to dispose of what was probably the murder weapon. “I’m not going to dump it.”

  “Okay, whatever.” She strode past him and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, yanking it up. “I don’t want to know what you do with it.”

  “Shouldn’t we take a look on TV or the computer to see if Niles’s body has been found yet?”

  She held up one hand in front of her face. “I don’t want to know that, either. Better to feign surprise when the cops come calling.”

  With a toss of her head, she tipped back her bag and dragged it across the floor to the hallway.

  As she veered toward the guest room on the right, he called out, “Master suite. We’re back together, remember?”

  Without a word or backward glance, she changed course and wheeled her bag into his bedroom.

  He bent over and snatched up the plastic grocery bag by one handle. As it dangled from his fingertips, he stared at the spot where Savannah had disappeared into his bedroom.

  He’d wanted Savannah back in his life for so long and now she was here in the flesh—needing him, sharing his bedroom, willing to engage in a pretend romance with him.

  Turning, he grabbed the front door handle. How could this possibly go wrong?

  * * *

  SAVANNAH SMOOTHED HER hands across the cotton skirt that hit her midthigh. How many more ways could she feel guilty for dragging Connor into her mess?

  Mom had dragged Connor’s father into her messes, and here she was, carrying on the famous Martell tradition. She and Mom had lied about the night her stepfather was shot and killed, all right, but it wasn’t for the benefit of Chief Wells.

  Savannah could never tell Connor the truth about that night; he would never look at her the same way again. He’d blame her for his father’s death. And because she had to keep this secret from him, they could never have a relationship—not a real one.

  When she heard the front door open, she grabbed her purse from Connor’s bed, and swung it by her side as she marched into the living room. “Ready?”

  He spread his arms wide and his gray T-shirt stretched across his chiseled chest. “As long as it’s casual.”

  “Is there anything but casual in San Juan Beach?”

  “You haven’t been here for a while. A couple nice places popped up along the strand, still casual dress, though.”

  The cell phone that had been charging on Connor’s kitchen counter dinged, indicating a new text message. She swallowed. “I’d better see who that is.”

  Connor nodded.

  She slid the phone across the smooth granite surface and tapped the incoming message. The words on the screen screamed at her. She read them aloud for Connor’s benefit. “‘Have you heard? Call me.’”

  “Who’s it from?”

  “It’s from Dee Dee Rodriguez. She’s Niles’s admin assistant at the office.”

  “You’d better call her.”

  “So it starts.” She went to her contacts and called Dee Dee’s number.

  Dee Dee didn’t even wait for the first ring to end. “Savannah, have you heard about Niles?”

  “No. What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “What are you talking about?” She lifted her eyebrows at Connor. Did she sound convincing? She put the phone on speaker, so he could hear everything, steer her in the right direction.

  “Niles is dead, Savannah. Murdered.”

  “Murdered? Is this a joke, Dee? It’s not funny.” Feign disbelief.

  Connor nodded.

  “Would I joke about someone’s murder?”

  “I—I don’t believe you. Why haven’t I heard anything?”

  “I just found out. The police are here.” She lowered her voice. “They were asking about you.”

  Savannah licked her lips, her gaze darting to Connor’s face. “What happened, Dee? Who found him? I was just with him last night.”

  “All I know is tha
t his housekeeper found him this morning. I don’t know how he died. If...if you saw him last night, it must’ve happened after that, or this morning before the housekeeper arrived.”

  “Oh, my God. This is terrible. I—I’m going to turn on the news or look it up on my computer.”

  “I’m not sure the news is out there yet. Where are you, Savannah? I’m sure the police are gonna head to your place.”

  “Probably, although Tiffany is closer to Niles than I am now—in every way, including physically. I’m not even in San Diego. I went south to San Juan Beach.”

  “Oh, my God. Are you with that hottie from the picture you showed me?”

  Heat clawed up Savannah’s chest and she turned away from Connor. “Yeah, I’m down here with Connor.”

  “Lucky girl, unlucky Niles. Stay safe. Maybe there’s some kind of hit out on both of you.”

  Savannah chewed her bottom lip. If that had been the case, she’d be dead, too. “I will. If the cops ask you about me again, you can tell them I’m in San Juan and would be happy to talk with them.”

  “I will. It’s gonna be crazy at the office.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone’s going to get any work done, so why don’t you all just take the rest of the day off?”

  “Well, we can’t just... Oh, right. You’re the boss now, aren’t you?”

  “Tell everyone there to take a mental health day.”

  “Will do.”

  Savannah ended the call and spun around. “How did I sound?”

  “Convincing. Now, get on your laptop like you said you would.”

  She dropped her purse on the floor where she stood and returned to the bedroom. She pulled her laptop from a zippered pouch on the side of her suitcase and brought it into the kitchen.

  As Connor hovered over her shoulder, she powered on the computer and did a search for Niles Wedgewood. Her hand trembled as she clicked on the first link that popped up. “Local news outlet already has the story, but no specifics.”

  Connor leaned in closer, his warm breath stirring her hair. “Just a snippet—body believed to be that of Niles Wedgewood, cofounder and CEO of Snap App, discovered in his ocean-side mansion in La Jolla. No further details at this time.”

 

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