Carol Ericson

Her Alibi


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to call the police?”

      “You know more than anyone why I won’t do that. No, it never occurred to me. I need an alibi, Connor. I need you.”

      “You want me to lie to the police for you. Claim you were here last night.”

      She leaned forward, planting her hands on her knees. “Mom and I lied for your father.”

      There it was.

      Connor’s eye twitched at the corner. “There’s no footage of you at the house. You didn’t drive your car, so it wasn’t parked in the neighborhood. How’d you get home? Taxi? App car?”

      “Do you think I’m stupid?” She sprang up from the couch, excitement and hope fizzing through her blood. He was going to help her. “I walked, and if you think that was easy with heels on, it wasn’t.”

      “You walked home, got your car and drove straight down here?”

      “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