Читать книгу Her Alibi - Carol Ericson - Страница 10

Connor’s body, still hard and strong, stiffened. She knew he wouldn’t be putty in her hands, but she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to bring out the big guns.

He stepped back, and she unwound her arms from around his waist. She didn’t want to be clingy.

Narrowing his blue eyes, he folded his arms across his unyielding chest. “What now?”

She gazed over his shoulder at the empty road bordered by grapevines and pasted a smile on her face. “The vineyard looks good. I can’t wait for the first bottle.”

He snorted, “Are you really trying to butter me up? You should know better.”

“I need to ease into this.” She squeezed his rock-solid biceps. “Can we talk inside?”

“Hang on.”

He turned back toward his truck, opened the door and ducked inside, giving her a spectacular view of his backside in his board shorts. From the look and feel of Connor’s muscles, she wouldn’t be surprised if he worked this vineyard single-handedly, but he must still be spending time at the beach, given his sandy bare feet and the burnished-gold sheen on his brown hair.

He walked toward her, a black bag slung over his shoulder. As he passed her, he nodded toward the house. “Follow me.”

“Hardly the red carpet I was expecting after all this time.”

“Maybe it’s more than you deserve after all this time.”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. She definitely needed the big guns this time around.

As she walked into the house she expelled a soft sigh. “You redecorated.”

“This is my house now, not my parents’. What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

She ran a hand along the back of the cream-colored leather sofa, which had replaced an overstuffed floral one that had been littered with his mother’s handmade pillows. “It’s an improvement.”

He placed the bag on a granite island that separated the kitchen from the living room, where a wall once stood that had supported a shelf showing off Connor’s surfing trophies.

“Do you want something to drink? No wine...yet.”

“As much as I could use some alcohol right now, it’s still morning and I need my wits about me...all my wits.” Or at least the ones she still possessed after last night’s blackout.

“I have water, orange juice and iced tea from a bottle.”

“Tea, please.” She perched on the edge of the sofa, the soft leather almost sighing beneath her weight, and wedged her purse next to her feet.

When Connor exited the kitchen holding two glasses, the ice clinking with each of his steps, she patted the cushion next to her.

He handed her the glass, tossed a coaster onto the coffee table hand carved from a log and took the chair across from her.

Looked like he wanted to keep his wits about him, too. The two of them had always shared a magnetic attraction to each other, but maybe he’d been able to shut down that magnet after their last contact a few years ago.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He took a long gulp of tea. “Is it that husband of yours?”

“Ex-husband.”

“Right. You’re still fighting with him about that multimillion-dollar company?”

“It’s much worse than that, Connor.”

“Just spill it, Savannah.”

“Niles is dead...murdered.”

Connor’s eyebrows shot up to that lock of brown hair that curled over one eye. “Murdered? Wouldn’t that be all over the news? I know I’m kind of a recluse these days, but I do have a TV—cable and everything.” He jabbed a finger at the huge flat screen that claimed the space above his fireplace.

“It’s... He’s... I don’t think he’s been discovered yet.”

Connor jumped from the chair, and the tea splashed over the side of the glass clutched in his hand. “What are you telling me?”

“I found him. At his house. Dead.”

“And you didn’t call 911?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not?” He threw his arm out to the side. “No, why would anyone call the police upon discovering a dead body, especially the dead body of your ex?”

“Exactly.” She took a small sip of tea and avoided his wild-eyed stare.

He stopped pacing and landed in front of the couch, looming over her with iced tea dripping from his hand onto the polished hardwood floor. “What the hell happened to him, Savannah? Why didn’t you call the police?”

She shook her glass to rattle the ice. “He was stabbed to death, and I didn’t call because the police would’ve arrested me.”

“Why?”

“Because I woke up in his house, in his bed, and I don’t remember how I got there.” She closed her eyes and held her breath.

The shocked stillness reverberating off Connor in waves made her more nervous than the agitated pacing. She peeled open one eye and swallowed.

A muscle throbbed at the corner of his mouth, and the fingers curling around the sweating glass sported white knuckles. His blue eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy sea.

Then he blinked, drained the tea in one gulp, wiped his palm on the leg of his board shorts and set the glass on the coffee table. “You’d better start from the beginning.”

Warm relief flooded her body and she almost collapsed against the sofa cushions. This was the Connor she’d hoped to see—in control and even-keeled. He hadn’t agreed to anything yet, but he hadn’t thrown her out on her derriere, either.

Sitting up, she squared her shoulders. “Niles and I met for a drink last night to discuss some business. I had come across something in the books and wanted to see some files.”

“Why didn’t he just send over the file? Why the meeting, the drink?”

She studied his square jaw, clenched in disapproval. Did she detect jealousy in that question?

“Niles had been wanting to discuss other aspects of the business with me for weeks and figured this was his opportunity to have me at his mercy.” She cleared her throat. “I really wanted those files, so I agreed.”

“How did the meeting go?”

She ran her fingers through her hair, avoiding the sore spot on the back of her head. “Like all our meetings. We ended up in an argument.”

His eyes flickered, but he took a seat on the edge of the coffee table and she eked out a little sigh because he was no longer looming over her.

“Did anyone at the bar notice you arguing?”

“I’m sure a few people did. We exchanged sharp words and may have got a little loud, but there was no knock-down-drag-out.”

He rubbed his knuckles across his clean-shaven chin. He’d shaved off the beard since the last time she’d seen him. Bearded or not, the man still pushed all the right buttons in all the right places.

She licked her lips, and his gaze bounced to her mouth and then back to her eyes.

“What happened next? How’d you end up at his house? That house in La Jolla, right?”

“Yeah, that one.” She caught a drop of moisture on the outside of the glass with her finger and touched it to her temple. “Niles had left the file I wanted at the house. I had to go with him to retrieve them.”

“Go with him? You didn’t drive your own car?” He tipped his head at the window, toward the Lexus in his driveway.

“I walked to the bar. It was close to my house and you know I don’t like to drive after even one drink.”

“Is that what you had? One drink?”

“Two.” She held up two fingers in a peace sign and then brought the fingers together. “Scout’s honor.”

Unless she’d downed whatever was in that crystal tumbler at the house.

“I’m not checking on you, Savannah. I believe you. What I’m trying to get at is if you were drunk when you left the bar with him.”

“Absolutely not. I don’t get drunk...anymore.”

“So why’d you black out? Do you remember going to his house? Driving in the car with him?”

“I do remember getting into his car. I remember more arguing on the way to the house, arriving at the house and then...” She shrugged. “Nothing after that. I don’t remember what we did at the house. I don’t know how I lost my clothes and ended up in his bed. And I sure as hell don’t know how he wound up dead.”

“And you didn’t...”

“What?” She jerked her head in his direction.

He swiped a hand across his mouth as if to keep the words from tumbling out. “You’re telling me that someone broke into Niles’s house, murdered him in a violent manner and you were allowed to sleep peacefully through it all. Why weren’t you killed along with Niles?”

“That, I can’t tell you.” She skewered him with a gaze. “You almost sound disappointed.”

Connor pushed up from the coffee table and stalked to the kitchen. “Don’t play the poor-me card. I know you too well.”

He thought he did, but she’d kept secrets from him before.

He buried his head in the fridge and popped up with a bottle of beer in his hand. “I’m not offering. Someone needs a clear head here, but it’s not gonna be me.”

“Beer for breakfast?” She held up her hands to deflect his scowl. “Never mind. And I already told you, I have no idea why the killer left me undisturbed...almost undisturbed.”

“Almost?” He took a swig of beer and hunched over the kitchen island.

She jabbed her index finger into her chest. “I did not voluntarily take off my clothes for Niles, and I did not crawl into his bed.”

“The murderer took the time to strip you naked and place you in Niles’s bed? Where was Niles’s body?”

“On the floor next to the bed.”

“Next to you?”

“On the floor.”

He snapped his fingers. “Did you check the security cameras? A place like that, a guy like that—he had to have video surveillance.”

“All disabled.”

He scratched his chin in an absentminded manner. He must’ve just lost the beard and missed it, although why Connor’s facial hair occupied her thoughts at this crucial moment was a mystery. She squeezed her thighs together and huffed out a breath. No, it wasn’t, no mystery.

“Murder weapon?”

“Gone.”

“Blood?”

“All over Niles and the floor beneath him, but only a little on me and none on my clothes.”

“You had blood spatter on you?”

“I wouldn’t call it spatter.” She curled her right hand into a fist. She didn’t want to show him her palm, but she couldn’t hide it. He’d notice it anyway.

Holding her hand out to him and spreading her fingers, she said, “The blood came from some cuts on my hand.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and then skirted the counter and charged toward her. She shrank back when he dropped to his knees in front of her and took her wrist between his fingers.

But she had nothing to fear from Connor.

With a gentle touch, he traced a fingertip over each cut, sending chills down her spine.

“These aren’t very deep...and they’re on the wrong hand.”

“The wrong hand?”

“The wrong hand for stabbing. You’re left-handed.”

She clasped his shoulder with her left hand. “I knew there was a good reason to run to you. D-do you think someone’s trying to set me up for Niles’s murder? Because I do. That’s what I think.”

“Could be. Do you have a motive?” He dropped her wrist and rose to his feet, as her hand slid from his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “Take your pick. We were fighting over the business. With his death, I get the whole thing, controlling interest back in my lap. A-and there’s something else.”

He had returned to his beer and raised his eyebrows as he took a sip.

“Life insurance.” She knotted her fingers in front of her. “Lots of life insurance.”

“It’s natural to assume a spouse would be the beneficiary of life insurance, even after a divorce. It’s not necessarily the first thing most people going through a separation think about.”

“Niles Wedgewood is not most people. He did think about dropping me as his beneficiary after the divorce in favor of his new girlfriend, Tiffany, and his junkie twin brother, Newland, and his sister, Melanie, up in San Francisco, but I convinced him we should leave each other as our beneficiaries until we had the business worked out.”

“And people know this?” Connor tugged on his earlobe, a sure sign of worry.

“His divorce attorney knows it.”

“How much are we talking?”

She dropped her chin to her chest. “Millions.”

“With Niles’s death, you stand to get the business and millions of dollars in life insurance money.”

His gaze sharpened and his eyes looked like chips of ice, sending a flutter of fear to her belly. She’d better get used to that look—especially if she couldn’t produce an alibi for last night.

“Looks bad, huh?”

He nodded. “Did it occur to you for one second 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?”