“Not natural to me.” Savannah jumped up from the couch, grabbing her water, which sloshed over the side of the glass.
Connor pushed to his feet and placed his hand at the small of her back. “You’d better show the detectives your hand, Savannah.”
Her head whipped around and her eyes widened. Was he trying to get her arrested? “M-my hand?”
Krieger and Paulson exchanged a look that made her stomach flip-flop.
Paulson stood up first, and Savannah tilted her head back to look at him. Funny, she hadn’t noticed how tall he was when he was the silent partner. Now that he was grilling her, he towered over her like an ogre.
Connor grabbed her right hand and uncurled her fingers, displaying the horizontal cuts on her palm.
Krieger’s eyebrows, which seemed like they had a mind of the own, cocked in two different directions. “What happened, Savannah?”
“Oh, this?” She stared at her hand. “I was straightening up a bit before I left last night and my butcher block of knives tipped off the edge of the counter. I stupidly made a grab for the knives and cut myself. Pretty dumb move, huh?”
“It’s quite common for someone to get cuts on their own hand while they’re stabbing someone.” Paulson crossed his arms.
“Only one problem with that, Detective.” Connor planted a kiss in the middle of her palm amid the cuts. “Savannah is left-handed. She wouldn’t have stabbed her ex, but she really wouldn’t have stabbed him with her right hand.”
Paulson’s chest seemed to deflate. “We’re going to want you to come to the sheriff’s station in La Jolla in the next few days to give a sample of your DNA. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
Krieger put one hand in his pocket as if to strike a casual pose. “Would we find your DNA in the house, Savannah?”
“DNA? Blood? No. Hair? Maybe.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “I’ve been in that house a few times recently...for business. I don’t think it would be odd to find some evidence of my presence, but blood? There would be no reason for my blood to be there.”
She hoped to God they wouldn’t find any from these cuts.
The detectives asked her several more questions, handed out their cards and asked her not to leave town and to report to the station in La Jolla the day after tomorrow in the afternoon.
She assured them she would, and both she and Connor walked them to the front door.
Her muscles still clenched, she watched them descend the porch, and just when she thought she could breathe again, Paulson made a half turn.
Tapping his chin, Paulson raised his eyes to the sky. “Wells. You are the son of the former police chief of this town who shot and killed the drug dealer Manny Edmonds, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. Shot and killed him in self-defense and then paid the price when Manny’s goons murdered him.”
“Hmm.” Paulson took a few more steps, stopped and twisted his head over his shoulder. “And Manny Edmonds was your stepfather, wasn’t he, Savannah?”
“That’s right.”
“You were present when Chief Wells killed him.”
“I was.”
“Hmm. Okay. Thank you.”
Paulson stopped again, his hard shoes scraping against the gravel as he pivoted. “One more thing.”
“Of course.” Savannah could barely squeeze the words past her lips.
“Do I have your permission to search the trunk of your car?” Paulson linked his hands in front of him as if he’d just asked her for a cup of tea.
She stretched her lips into a smile. “Of course. I’ll get the keys.”
Her shoulder banged against Connor’s as she spun toward the house, but she avoided meeting his eyes. Why did they want to look in her trunk? Thank God Connor had found that bag...and too bad he’d been waving it around under the detectives’ noses.
She dragged her keys from her purse with shaky fingers and took a deep breath. She couldn’t allow Paulson or Krieger to see her trembling hands.
As she stepped out onto the porch, she stabbed the remote with her thumb and the lights of the Lexus flickered once and the trunk popped. “It’s open. Help yourself.”
Paulson lunged toward the car and flipped up the trunk. Half his body disappeared inside, and Savannah knew he was lifting the cover to the spare—where Connor had found the bag.
She forced herself to breathe—in, out, in, out—Connor’s body vibrating beside her.
Paulson extricated himself from the trunk, glanced at Krieger and gave a quick shake of his head. “Okay to look inside the car?”
“Absolutely. It’s unlocked.”
Paulson rummaged around her car for several minutes, and then emerged, the tight politeness of his face somewhat askew. “Thank you. That’s all.”
Detective Krieger nodded and waved. “Thank you for your time. Sorry for your loss.”
“No problem. Let me know if I can be of any more help.” Savannah gritted her teeth as she watched the two detectives walk back to their vehicle.
Connor touched her shoulder. “Let’s go back in the house. We look weird standing here staring at them, making sure they get back in their car and drive off.”
“But that’s exactly why I am staring at them, just in case Paulson stops and asks another one of his casual questions dripping with suspicion and innuendo, or decides he wants to see what’s in that plastic bag you were swinging around.” She peeled her hands from her upper arms, where her fingernails had created crescents in her flesh.
Connor held the screen door open for her and she stepped into the house, massaging the back of her neck. “Why do you think he wanted to search the car? The trunk? How did he know?”
“Maybe he didn’t know about the knife.” Connor’s shoulders twitched.
“You don’t believe that any more than I do. Someone tipped them off. The same someone who put the knife there.”
“Might’ve been an anonymous call.”
Savannah rubbed her eyes. “How do you think it went otherwise? Do you think I’m their number one suspect?”
“Maybe not number one, thanks to your alibi, but definitely a suspect.”
She dropped onto the couch cushion and leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. “Why do you think Paulson threw in those little jabs at the end? Is he implying that there’s a connection to my being at the site of one killing and Niles’s death?”
“Why would he imply that?” Connor peered into her face from above. Placing two fingers at each of her temples, he rubbed in little circles. “The death of your stepfather has nothing to do with the death of your ex-husband.”
She hoped it didn’t.
Closing her eyes, she said, “The two of us involved in two separate violent deaths—must look odd.”
“He’s just trying to rattle you.”
Connor stopped his massage, and she opened one eye. “Why would he want to do that?”
“Because you’re a suspect and he wants you to know you’re a suspect, and he wants you to understand that he’s looking at you, has already looked into your background.”
“And finds it suspicious.” She tapped the side of her head. “Keep rubbing. I suddenly have a ferocious headache.”
“Probably because you haven’t eaten anything all day. Do you want to go back to Neptune’s Cove and continue our lunch date?”
“We do want the locals to think we’re back together and inseparable, don’t we?”
“That’s the plan.”
That plan sounded like heaven right now. Too bad it was all tied up with Niles’s murder.
Connor’s fingers trailed down her face and the column of her neck before squeezing her shoulders. “Okay, let’s try this again.”
Did he mean lunch or their relationship? Because being back in Connor’s realm felt good, fe
lt natural. But she’d left him because of the lies and the lies hadn’t gone away. In fact, they’d been compounded by more lies. She didn’t want to start a relationship based in deception, even though that had been the only way her mother ever started a relationship.
She wasn’t her mother and never would be. She also couldn’t afford to tell Connor the truth.
She ducked away from Connor’s touch and staggered to her feet. “I’m starving and I could use that mimosa now more than ever.”
As she reached for her purse, her cell phone, tucked in the side pocket, rang. She pulled it out and glanced at the display. She met Connor’s urgent stare and held up the phone. “It’s just Letty, Niles’s housekeeper.”
She answered the phone. “Letty, are you all right? I heard about Niles today.”
“Did you?”
Savannah drew her brows together. “Dee Dee called me and I just talked to the police. Have they spoken to you yet? Do you know anyone who would do this to Niles?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. It was you, Savannah, and I have the evidence to prove it.”
Chapter Six
Savannah jerked her head up, her eyes widening in her pale face. Connor’s stomach dipped. What bad news could Niles’s housekeeper be telling her? He mouthed, “What’s wrong?”
She tapped her phone’s display and a woman’s slightly accented voice came over the line. “Well? What do you have to say?”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about, Letty. I had nothing to do with Niles’s murder. Why would you even think that?”
Connor’s hands convulsively clenched into fists. Why would Niles’s housekeeper think Savannah killed him?
“Oh, you forget, Savannah. I was in that house for the fights. The cheating. The lying,” Letty snorted. “I don’t even blame you. I felt like killing Mr. Niles myself a few times. He didn’t treat me any better after you left.”
“Letty, don’t even say something like that.” Savannah shot him a glance and licked her lips. “And during any of those...fights, did either of us get physical? Did I ever threaten Niles? Of course not. Yeah, I wanted the man out of my life, but the divorce was good enough.”
“The divorce was not good enough. You still had the company together and would always have to work with him or let him buy you out. I know how these things work. I overheard the two of you enough times.”
Connor folded his arms over his chest, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn’t need a recap of Savannah’s marriage—he’d tried not to think of it over the years. Savannah needed to know what Letty had on her...and what she wanted now.
“Whatever.” Savannah flung her arm out to the side. “None of that means anything now. I did not kill Niles and I can’t imagine what proof you have that I did.”
“I’m not going to tell you that, Savannah, not yet, but I’ll give it back to you when we meet...and you hand over five hundred thousand dollars.”
Savannah’s gaze met Connor’s and her lips tightened. “That’s what this is all about? I never took you for that kind of person, Letty.”
“We all have to do what we have to do.”
“Yes, but I didn’t kill Niles, so you don’t have any evidence.”
“You’ll see. Come alone, bring the money, in cash, and I won’t contact the police about what I found and what I know.”
“Letty, this is ridiculous. If you need money, I’ll give you money. You don’t have to resort to blackmail, which is illegal, I might add.”
“So call the police.”
Savannah ran a hand through her hair and clenched a fistful of it. “Where and when do you want to meet?”
“Logan, by the warehouses. There’s one with a yellow sign out front. Be there at nine o’clock tonight with the cash. I’ll turn over your property and we’ll call it even.”
“I’m only doing this because I don’t want the police looking at me. I didn’t kill Niles, Letty, and you must know that.”
“I know what I know.”
Savannah opened her mouth to respond, but Letty had ended the call, and Savannah threw the phone at the couch and screamed.
“What does she have, Savannah?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t leave anything there.” She paced to the window and spun around. “I can’t believe she’s doing this. Blackmail.”
“Does she have some grudge against you?”
“We weren’t besties or anything, but it was Niles she didn’t like.”
“Why?”
Savannah pleated her skirt with her fingers. “Because he’s an ass and rude.”
“Why’d she continue to work for him?”
“He paid really well, or at least I paid Letty well, and Niles had to keep the agreement with her when I left.”
“Greed. She’s doing this because she can. Because she knows you’ll pay.”
“If it’s something ridiculous, I’m not going to pay her a dime.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “How am I going to pay her five hundred grand in cash? I have about forty bucks and change on me and if I run to the bank now and withdraw that kind of money, it’s going to raise all kinds of red flags with the police.”
“I’ll take care of the money. I’d just like to know what she has first.”
“I told you, if it’s something that can be explained away easily, I’m not paying her anything, and she can go to the police for all I care. She’s going to have a helluva time explaining to them why she didn’t turn over this explosive evidence when they first questioned her and decided to turn to blackmail instead.”
Connor shook his head.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think I should pay her? If it’s the money you’re worried about, I’m good for it. Haven’t you heard? I’m the beneficiary of millions in life insurance money.”
He inhaled deeply through his nose. When had Savannah become so difficult? He rubbed the back of his neck. Who was he kidding? After her stepfather died, she’d changed, and he could never figure out why. It wasn’t as if she blamed Connor’s father for Manny’s death. She’d never cared for Manny, but when he died, something between them...shifted, and they’d never been able to set it right again.
Why would this time be any different?
“I don’t care about the money. Haven’t you heard? I inherited a lot of property when Dad died and I sold off a lot of it to finance the winery.” He briefly clutched his hair into a ponytail and then released it. “I’m just beginning to think you’re getting in deeper and deeper. Maybe you should just tell the truth.”
For once.
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding. You know as well as I do the truth isn’t enough sometimes—and this is one of those times. Someone incapacitated me and probably Niles, too, and then murdered Niles, leaving me to hold the bag. This is some kind of setup. If I go to the police, you can bet there will be more evidence popping up to implicate me.”
“Could it be Letty?”
“You think Letty could’ve murdered Niles and then tried to set me up for this blackmail scheme?”
He shrugged his shoulders, which ached with tension. “Could be. She’s the first one who stepped forward to cash in.”
“I know she hated Niles, but murder?” She strode to the couch and swept up her phone. “I don’t think she’s capable.”
“She thinks you are.”
Savannah pointed her phone at him. “She doesn’t, really. She just found this clue—whatever it is—and figured I’d pay to make it go away.”
“And that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
* * *
BY THE TIME Connor found a new hiding place for the knife, cleaned up and withdrew the cash from his bank before closing time, their lunch date had turned into dinner.
He stuffed the backpack loaded with stacks of money under the table
at his feet and smiled at a different waiter from the one they’d had earlier in the same restaurant. “I’ll have the Widow’s Peak pinot.”
“And I’ll have the pomegranate mimosa...again.” Savannah planted her elbows on the table.
Connor raised an eyebrow. “It’s not breakfast anymore.”
“Are there mimosa rules that I missed somewhere?”
He tipped his water glass in her direction. “You make up your own rules, Savannah. You always have.”
“I like the hair.” She tugged on her own glossy ends. “Now that you’re no longer a cop, you decided to grow it long?”
“Honestly, it’s pure laziness. Do you remember Lucy, who used to cut my hair? She left town, and every time someone new cut it, they just couldn’t get it right.”
“Lazy.” She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have a lazy bone in your buff bod.”
“Tell me how the company’s doing. I mean—” he waved his napkin before flicking it into his lap “—outside all the other stuff.”
“The other stuff? You mean the murder of the CEO?”
“Yeah, that.”
She cocked her head and caught a drip of condensation on the outside of her water glass with the tip of her finger. “Not as well as it should be.”
“Really?” He coughed into his napkin. “That’s not what I’ve been hearing...and that’s not how the stock is going.”
“You’re following Snap App’s stock?”
“I’d better be. I own a lot of shares.”
“Oh, then I’d better work harder.”
“Seriously, what’s the problem?”
“Earnings seem to be going down.”
“Again, that’s not what the stock price is reflecting.”
“I know.”
The waiter returned with their drinks and paused by the table. “Everything okay out at the vineyard, Connor? We heard about the fire.”
“Thanks, Brock. It was just a storage shed. Firefighters put out the fire pretty fast, so there wasn’t much damage.”
“I heard it was done on purpose.” Brock glanced over his shoulder. “Any suspects?”
Her Alibi Page 6
