“She wasn’t okay with it, Connor, but she didn’t want to make waves. She had a good setup with Manny.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.” She ran her pinkie finger across her bottom lip.
“What happened? What changed the night he was killed?”
“I’m not completely sure.”
“What?” He hunched forward, digging his elbows into his knees. “You don’t remember something like that?”
She finally raised her gaze to his and held it for a few beats. “I blacked out that night.”
Connor fell back against the couch cushions, smacking the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Are you kidding me?”
“Would I kid about something like that? I can’t remember what happened.” Her knees started bouncing and she clamped her hands on them. “Mom told me Manny tried to rape me. He’d ripped off my clothes and cornered me in my room. I must’ve escaped, grabbed his gun where he kept it by the front door and shot him.”
Connor dug his fingernails into his scalp, sympathy for Savannah and what she’d had to endure making inroads into his shock. “Where was Georgie when all this was going on? Why wasn’t she there to protect you?”
“She had gone to a friend’s house, but her friend wasn’t feeling well so she turned around and came back.” Savannah rolled her shoulders forward and hugged herself around the baggy T-shirt. “Mom said she came home, found me naked with a wide-eyed blank stare, crouching in the corner of the living room, with Manny’s dead body across from me and the gun on the floor.”
“Then she called my father.”
“Of course. Who else?”
Just as Savannah had come running to Connor when she’d found herself with another dead body.
He took a deep breath. “And the two of them concocted the story of Manny physically attacking Georgie, who then called my father. And when he arrived, Manny pulled his gun on him, the two wrestled for control and the gun went off, killing Manny.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t my father just leave it at that? Why did he tell my mother that he’d killed Manny outright instead of giving her the made-up story about Manny pointing the gun at him? Why heap further blame on himself?”
Savannah pressed her hands to her cheeks. “That was my mom’s idea. She thought she’d come out looking better and it would keep your mother from talking if the chief owed something to Mom. I know. It’s twisted.”
“And your mother did all this to protect you? A little late. I can’t imagine what you went through.” He raised his hand and dropped it.
She noticed the gesture and swallowed. “Because I blacked out and I didn’t have any injuries, she thought the police might not believe it was self-defense on my part. Hell, I don’t even know if it was.”
“Except for the fact that you had no clothes on and were in shock.” Connor pounded a fist into the cushion next to him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t my father?”
“It was all so messed up. Then your father lost his life because of me and my mother. If we’d told the truth, Manny’s associates would’ve had no reason to go after your dad.”
“Maybe they would’ve gone after you instead.”
Her eyes widened. “A twenty-one-year-old college student who was warding off a rape? I don’t think so.”
Connor tilted his head back, resting it against the cushion, and stared at the ceiling. “Savannah, don’t you think it’s strange that you blacked out twice and both of those times you come to with a dead body?”
“Of course.”
“And it never occurred to you that the same thing that happened with Manny happened with Niles?”
“Did I imply it never occurred to me? It did, but that’s why I checked everything at the house. There was no evidence I stabbed Niles—no cuts on my dominant hand, no blood on my clothes or body, no sign that I showered off any blood. Nothing. I didn’t do it, Connor. The police haven’t found any evidence of my guilt.”
He squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did you regain consciousness, or whatever, the night Manny died? And what’s the last thing you remember about that night?”
“I remember being home earlier and Mom going to her friend’s.” Savannah twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “I wasn’t too worried about being home alone with Manny because he’d been preoccupied all summer, barely giving me a glance, which was a huge relief. Still, I remember changing into my pajamas, locking my bedroom door and watching some TV. That’s it. I don’t remember leaving the room. I don’t remember Manny coming into the room. I sure as hell don’t remember taking a gun and shooting at him.”
He scratched his chin. “Where were you when you woke up, or came to? I don’t even know what to call it.”
“I was sitting on our couch, in my pajamas. Manny was dead on the floor and your dad and my mom were crouched over him.” She trapped her hands between her knees. “I panicked. I screamed. I cried. I didn’t know what was going on.”
“Your mother told you what had happened?”
“She came to me and grabbed my hands. She told me she’d discovered me naked in the corner when she got home, Manny dead. I was numb, unresponsive, but she figured out what had happened. She dressed me and called your father, and they were going to fix everything between the two of them. She had me wash my hands—to get rid of the gun residue—and then she told me the story they were going with. That Manny had got abusive, belligerent, so she called Chief Wells, who was off duty. The chief arrived, Manny had a gun on us and then turned it on your father. He lunged for it, they struggled and the gun went off, killing Manny.”
“I wish...” Connor grabbed a pillow and chucked it across the room. “I wish you’d told me—all of it. I wish you’d told me Manny was bothering you. Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders. “I felt ashamed, like somehow I’d invited his attentions. Th-that’s what my mom implied.”
Heat thumped through his body and a pure hatred for Savannah’s selfish, vain mother beat at his chest. How could his father have worshiped that woman? “That’s ridiculous.”
“I didn’t want to tell you, Connor. You saw me through some kind of rose-colored glasses. I never knew why, but I didn’t want that to end—ever. That’s why I never told you any of it.”
“Your secrecy destroyed our relationship anyway.” He clasped his hands behind his neck. “That’s why, isn’t it? That’s why you ran, that’s why you married Niles.”
“I killed someone and then put the blame on your father, who ended up paying for it with his life.” She sniffled and rubbed her nose. “I didn’t think that was something you could ever get past... Could you? Can you?”
Folding his body in half, Connor leaned forward, almost touching his head to his knees. “I don’t know, Savannah. I can’t believe you’ve lived with this burden these past years. When you woke up with Niles, you must’ve relived everything.”
“I’m sorry, Connor. For everything. I never should’ve come here. I’m just like my mother and I tried so hard not to be her.”
His head shot up. “You’re nothing like Georgie.”
Several seconds of heavy silence hung between them.
“What now?” She folded her hands in her lap, her knuckles white.
“We carry on as before. We get to the bottom of what happened the night Niles died...and that’s going to start when you see Thomas tomorrow. No holding back.” He leveled a finger at her. “Promise.”
“I promise. I’ll tell Thomas everything.” She rose to her feet in a jerky movement and stooped to pick up the pizza box on the floor.
“Leave it. Go back to bed. You have a busy day tomorrow.”
She hesitated, dropped the box and took a step back. She threw him a glance from beneath her lashes.
Folding his arms, he closed his eyes. “Go to bed, Savannah.”
“Yours?”
“I’ll be in later.”
She shuffled down the hallway, his T-shirt floating around her body.
His muscles coiled as he fought the urge to go after her, take her in his arms, comfort her for what she’d endured as a frightened young woman. Then he sank back against the couch, placing his fingertips against the throbbing drumbeat in his temples.
If Savannah had blacked out and killed once, she could’ve blacked out and killed again.
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning, Savannah rolled over and buried her face in the pillow, the scent of Connor engulfing her and permeating all her senses. Connor, the man she’d loved...and betrayed.
The look in his blue eyes last night had told her everything she needed to know—justified her silence all those years. He hated her. Didn’t trust her.
And she didn’t blame him.
She ran her hands over the covers, which she’d straightened out last night, and knew Connor hadn’t been back to bed—at least not this one.
A tap at the door had her sitting up and clutching the sheets to her chest. “Yes?”
“I have some breakfast for you, if you’re interested.”
She stared at the door handle, but Connor wasn’t coming in. His footsteps faded down the hallway.
She scooted out of the bed and shed his T-shirt. Before she bunched it up and put it back where she’d found it, she hugged it against her stomach. She’d lost him.
She took a quick shower and pulled a pair of shorts and a blouse from her bag, then dressed in record speed. She scooped her hair into a ponytail, took a deep breath and went to meet her accuser.
As she turned the corner toward the kitchen, he held up a plate. “Eggs and toast okay again? I can get some grocery shopping done while you’re seeing Thomas.”
On her way into the room, she stubbed her toe on the smooth wood floor. Had Connor had his own blackout and forgotten what she’d told him last night?
He placed the plate of food on the counter and turned away. “I already ate. I’m going to shower before A.J. gets here. He’s gonna pick up the knife and the scotch. It’s time we got some answers—finally.”
He hadn’t forgotten a thing.
He exited the kitchen and called over his shoulder, “The security company is coming this morning, too.”
Even though he’d already discussed setting up a security system at the house, his words carried an ominous tone—like he was warning her not to try anything.
She stabbed a clump of scrambled egg. Now she was just getting paranoid.
She held her fork suspended over her plate as she listened to the water run in the shower. If she could’ve kept her mouth shut last night, she might be enjoying that shower with Connor right now. Nothing had changed between them physically. The passion burned between them hotter than ever. Their bodies fitted together seamlessly. She hadn’t been able to tell where hers ended and his began. But after he’d pulled out the condoms, it had all seemed like a lie. Hot sex was one thing, but true love required trust.
Someone knocked on the front door and Savannah dropped her fork. She spun around on the stool and hopped off. When she reached the door, she peered through the peephole at a buff guy with a shaved head, a gym bag over his shoulder.
Resting her hands against the door, she asked, “Who is it?”
“Ah, A.J. I’m here to see Connor Wells.”
She cranked the dead bolt to the right and opened the door. “Hi, I’m Savannah.”
A.J. inclined his head. “Hi, Savannah. Wasn’t expecting anyone out here with Connor.”
“C’mon in.” Connor hadn’t revealed all her dirty little secrets to A.J.? What did he think he was doing here?
Connor swooped into the living room, hand outstretched. “Hey, bro. Thanks for coming. You met Savannah?”
“I did.” A.J.’s eyes narrowed. “Savannah Wedgewood, right?”
“I prefer Martell, but yeah, that’s me. The merry widow.” Savannah clenched her teeth behind her smile.
A splash of red stained A.J.’s bald pate. “Sorry. I just put two and two together.”
“You still in?” Connor cocked his head at his friend.
“Are you kidding? Of course. Maybe I can crack the biggest murder case of the year.” A.J. rubbed his hands together. “Give me the details.”
“We’re not giving you any details, A.J. Not yet anyway.” Connor strode across the room to the fireplace and unzipped the black canvas bag. He dipped his hand inside and pulled out the crystal decanter. “We need this analyzed for any added substances, drugs.”
A.J. took the decanter and swirled it so that the liquid sloshed up the sides. “Easy enough.”
“And then there’s this.” Connor spread open the plastic bag and held it in front of him.
Even though A.J. must’ve known what to expect, his eyes widened. “This will be harder, but I think I can get a guy. Whose blood am I looking for?”
“Wait.” Savannah held up her hand and pounced on her purse. She plunged her hand inside and pulled out a stiff piece of carpet. She cupped it in her palm and held it out to A.J. “This is Niles Wedgewood’s blood.”
Connor hunched over her hand and poked at the material with his fingertip. “Where did you get this?”
“From the house yesterday afternoon. It’s part of the carpet that was underneath Niles’s body.”
“You cut off a piece? When?” Connor drew back, his eyebrows slamming over his nose.
“Of course not,” she snapped. “The rug must’ve been sliced during the attack and this piece was hanging by a thread. I ripped it off. It’s a lot better than A.J.’s friend raising red flags by trying to get the report on Niles’s blood, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.” A.J. dipped his hand in the gym bag still hitched over his shoulder and shook out a plastic bag. “Drop it in here. Anything else?”
Savannah pinched the rug between two fingers and slipped it in. She rubbed her fingers together even though the blood on the rug was dried up. “You’ll need to test it for my blood, too.”
A.J. dropped the plastic bag and stooped over to retrieve it. When he straightened up, a light sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead. “Is there something I should know?”
“Nothing.” Savannah tossed back her hair. “It’s just for ruling-out purposes, because some people need more proof than just someone’s word.”
Connor crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.
“All you have to do is poke your finger and squeeze out a few drops onto a card or something.”
“I can do that.” She rested a finger on her chin. “Or maybe Connor wants to do the honors. He’d like to make me bleed right now.”
Connor threw up his hands. “Do not ascribe acts of violence to me. I do not want to see you bleed.”
A.J. cranked his head back and forth between the two of them. “If you wanna give me your blood, Savannah, I’ll get out of here.”
“You’re scaring him off.” Connor marched to the kitchen and yanked open a drawer. “Here’s a safety pin. I’ll hold it under a flame for a few seconds to sterilize it and then you can poke the hell out of yourself.”
Savannah put a hand on her hip. “Told you.”
Connor snorted, cranked on the flame beneath a burner and held the tip of the safety pin in the fire with a set of tongs. Then he swiped a piece of paper towel across the tip. “Don’t want that black carbon in your skin.”
As she took the pin from him, she skewered him with her gaze and tilted her head to the side. His joking manner indicated he’d loosened up a bit, but they still weren’t back on solid ground. Would they ever be? Had they ever been since the night she’d shot Manny and blamed his father?
She pressed
her thumb against the tip of her index finger and squeezed the skin tight. Then she jabbed her flesh with the tip of the pin. A bubble of blood formed immediately, so she held her finger over a note card and let the blood drip onto the surface.
She looked up at A.J. “Is that enough?”
“Plenty. You’d be surprised how little blood is needed for a good read these days.”
A shiver ran up her spine as she plucked a wet paper towel from Connor and wrapped it around her finger. Had the crime scene investigators found a spot of her blood in Niles’s bedroom?
A.J. waved the card in the air. “I’ll just let this dry for a few minutes before sealing it in a plastic bag, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I really appreciate this, A.J.” Connor clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Let us know the results as soon as you get them.”
“Do you want anything to drink before you leave?” Savannah opened the fridge door to pull out the orange juice.
“No, thanks.” He shook out another plastic baggie. “I’m waitin’ on the wine to start flowing out of this place. How much longer, Connor?”
“I’ll harvest the grapes from next year’s crop, and that’ll start the process.”
“Good thing you’re independently wealthy.” A.J. slid a glance toward Savannah.
Connor did have money and property, but that look at her meant A.J. probably knew about her wealth, which was about to explode. Every article about Niles’s death so far had mentioned her and what she stood to gain from the murder.
A.J. left, promising to get back to them as soon as he had the results.
Savannah glanced at her phone. “Just over an hour until I see Thomas. When is the security company getting here?”
“Should be here any minute.” Connor jerked a finger toward his laptop. “I’m going to do some work, and then we can drive over together once the security company gets here—if that’s still okay.”
“It’s still okay with me.” She rinsed her glass out in the sink, her head hanging, her hair creating a curtain around her face. “I’m sorry, Connor.”
Her Alibi Page 14
