An Alibi A Day

by A. R. Winters

  Upon seeing it, Charlie’s face lit up like it was Christmas, his two big hands immediately launching themselves from his side of the table into the neutral territory of the middle, aiming for the garlic bread.

  But thanks to years of practice, Allie was faster. Just before his hands could close in and grasp it up, Allie stabbed her fork underneath his hand into the middle of the bread, with her knife swiftly following up behind it. She angled the implements so their wooden handles blocked Charlie’s descending hands before he could contaminate the garlic bread.

  “Oh, you go ahead,” said Charlie, awkwardly and slowly withdrawing his hands. “I was just going to tear it in half.”

  “I know.” Allie expertly cut the bread, and quickly retrieved half of it with her fork and placed it on her side plate. “Go ahead.”

  Charlie took the other half, snapped off a piece with his hands, and immediately began chewing. “It’s good!” he said, licking crumbs off his lips. “Hey… what are you doing?”

  “I don’t want to get grease on my fingers,” said Allie as she continued to cut up her half of the bread into neat little squares.

  “No? I never thought of that.” Charlie furrowed his brow as if considering the topic for the very first time.

  Charlie ate his garlic bread in less than a minute, while Allie slowly worked on hers for five. When it was all gone, she started to peer around the room at the other customers, while Charlie told her about his gardening work.

  Allie saw something. Or rather, someone.

  “Is that...”

  “What?” asked Charlie in some confusion. He’d just been explaining about how, thanks to a friend at the stables, he could get manure for his clients basically for free.

  “Sorry. It’s just, over there, it looks like Larry’s girlfriend.”

  Charlie spun his head around as if trying to advertise his intention to stare. But he didn’t know who to look at, so he quickly turned back to face Allie.

  “The Larry who died? Who’s the girlfriend? Which one?”

  “Please don’t turn around and stare—it’s rude. But she is the slightly plump lady two tables over. At least, I think it’s her. But she’s with a man who’s definitely not Larry.”

  “Because he’s dead.”

  “Right. Because he’s dead. But it looks like she’s having a romantic meal with someone else.”

  Charlie began to turn his head to no doubt stare gormlessly at people who were strangers to him, but Allie put a stop to it before he could by gently kicking his shin—a skill she had learned thanks to Jackie doing it to her approximately a million times.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “Go and speak to her. Ask her what she’s doing,” said Charlie with a firm nod.

  Allie wasn’t sure. “Do you think? Just go and talk to her?”

  “Sure. Be direct, that’s my motto. Well, one of my mottos. Don’t worry, that’s another. And eat lots of delicious food is another. And—“

  “I get the picture. You’ve got lots of mottos. All right then, I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent. You won’t regret it.”

  That almost made Allie not do it, putting the thought of regret into her mind. But no, she was going to do it. Jackie was always telling her to be more impulsive, and what could be more impulsive than this—going on a date and ending up carrying on with her murder investigation instead.

  Allie stood up and made her way around the neighbouring table and on to the next where Ruth was sitting with a rather dashing looking middle-aged man who looked vaguely familiar. He was much closer to Ruth’s age than old Larry had been, and just as well off by the look of him.

  It wasn’t until she was standing right by the table that she realised quite how awkward this was going to be. There’s something incredibly uncomfortable about trying to start a conversation with two people who are already sitting down. Especially if you suspect that they don’t want the conversation to happen.

  “He… Hello?” said Allie, her voice a bit too quiet to be clear, while she stared down at Ruth.

  She had obviously made an effort. When Allie and Jackie had visited her home, she had looked rather bedraggled, but now she was wearing a beautiful black dress, some expensive looking jewellery and her hair was now in shiny, loose waves rather than a greasy ponytail.

  Ruth looked up with a quizzical expression that quickly turned to confusion followed by something on the verge of guardedness and hostility. “You.”

  Allie nodded, pleased that Ruth remembered her. “Yes, me. I was having a meal and saw you, so I thought I’d come and say hi.” Allie turned to face the man. “I’m Allie. I knew Ruth’s ex—”

  “THIS,” said Ruth very loudly cutting her off, “is my friend, Dan.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Allie Day.”

  “It was nice to see you, Allie.” Ruth said with a tone of dismissal. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Ruth put her head down and so did Dan, effectively dismissing her. Allie was used to feeling awkward, but finding yourself standing by a table with two people who won’t even look at you was another level to what she was used to. Allie slinked away back to her table, none the wiser.

  “What did you learn?” asked Charlie with eager excitement.

  “I learned that people can be extraordinarily rude.”

  “Right. Anything else?”

  “They didn’t say much. She was with a man called Dan, and she’s all dressed up. It looks like they’re on a date. But she didn’t tell me who he is or what they’re doing.”

  “Could it be her brother or a friend?”

  “If it was her brother, I’m sure she would have said so. And it looks like they’re on a date. They’ve got a bottle of wine, they’re dressed up... They don’t look like friends, do they?” Allie’s brow wrinkled in thought. Maybe friends did sometimes get dressed up and have a meal that could be construed as romantic together? People did all kinds of illogical things.

  Charlie now stared over in their direction, and Allie didn’t even consider stopping him. They’d dismissed her rudely, so she didn’t feel bad about unleashing Charlie’s unsubtle stare on them.

  “Nope, definitely a date.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You can just tell. And anyway, I saw him putting a forkful of linguini in her mouth earlier.”

  “Eww.”

  “Hang on. It looks like the date is ending. Rather hurriedly.”

  Allie looked too. Sure enough, Ruth and Dan had both stood up and were making their way over to the bar area. On the table, there looked to still be a few millilitres of wine at the bottom of their bottle, and the knives and forks on their plates hadn’t even been pushed together. And they hadn’t had dessert or coffee either.

  As the two of them watched, Dan began conspicuously waving his credit card in the air to get the attention of someone—anyone. They wanted to pay and leave.

  “What did you say to them?” asked Charlie. “You really seem to have scared them off!”

  “Nothing! They didn’t like the attention, I guess.”

  “Or maybe they were worried that you were going to ask them more questions. Ones they couldn’t answer.”

  Allie was about to agree with Charlie when they were interrupted by the waiter returning with two identical plates of pasta and two identical side salads, which he efficiently and without fuss placed in front of each of them.

  “Enjoy your meal,” was all he said as he carried away their bread plates.

  The smell of the garlic and olive oil was too enticing to resist, and they both dug in enthusiastically. After swallowing her first forkful, Allie realised that the two of them probably looked like two people ending a hunger strike rather than a couple on a date. But she didn’t care. She hadn’t eaten for hours, and it looked like Charlie hadn’t eaten for days.

  “Good, isn’t it?” he said with his mouth half full.

  Allie mumbled a moan of agreement without looking at him. It was. She was thr
ee-quarters of the way through her plate when she was done, unable to eat any more. Charlie had finished everything on his plate a couple of minutes before. She pushed her knife and fork together.

  “You done with that? Can I grab the rest?”

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him that respectable people didn’t scrape off the contents of one plate onto another and shovel it down. And she definitely didn’t want to watch it happen. But she restrained herself. Her opinions on the matter were, according to Jackie and Grandma Em, quirks. And you don’t go off showing your quirks on a first date. Even if it is likely to be your last with the person concerned.

  “Please, go ahead.”

  He didn’t need telling twice, and before she’d closed her mouth again, he’d tipped her plate onto his and the whole slithering mess of noodles had slid down with a slop onto his plate.

  “Cheers,” he said, raising his water glass.

  “Cheers.”

  They clinked their glasses together, he gulped down the entire contents, and then set about clearing the rest of his plate. After watching him, Allie did not have the appetite for a pudding.

  “You don’t want afters, do you?” said Charlie.

  Allie almost said yes just because he was pushing her to say no. But her first decision won out, and she declined with a shake of her head.

  “Good. That was great. You know what I like to do after a good meal?”

  Allie pondered a few possibilities, but most of them made her queasy to think about. “What’s that?” she finally said with some hesitation.

  “Go for a drive with the windows down.”

  That brought a smile to her face. For once, they agreed on something. The cheeky gardener and the big city neurotic had one thing in common at least.

  Then, Charlie did something rather curious. He ostentatiously made a scene of patting the pockets of his sports jacket. He patted the inside pockets, and the side ones, and then he turned to her with a panicked, open-mouthed look of alarm.

  “Oh no, I can’t believe it!” he said.

  “What?”

  He started patting himself again, as if he could have missed the object he was targeting the first time.

  “My wallet! I didn’t bring my wallet.” He shook his head to himself. “And I was going to treat you as well.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Allie.

  Charlie’s hands dropped to the table and a smile appeared on his face. “I’ll pay you back—I promise.”

  Allie shook her head. “Oh, no need.”

  Charlie positively beamed at her, his puppy-brown eyes glimmering at the prospect of a nice free meal.

  “You’re sitting on it.”

  He tilted his head in a questioning manner, his smile flickering.

  “Your wallet. It’s in the back right pocket of your jeans. You’re sitting on it.”

  His mouth opened in surprise and the happy glimmer in his eye turned to a look of guilt. He reached behind him, and, not having a choice, retrieved his wallet. She could tell he was trying his best to look surprised.

  “Oh! Weird. I never put my wallet in that pocket.”

  Allie doubted that was true but didn’t feel a need to comment on the matter. Instead, she decided to be nice and put him out of his misery.

  “Actually Charlie, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to pay for dinner. To thank you. You loaned me your car and put me on your insurance. I owe you.”

  His face lit up again. “Wow, thank you!”

  Allie wasn’t overly surprised that he didn’t put up more of a fuss. The ‘forgotten wallet’ had clearly been a ruse to get out of paying. That raised the important question: was Charlie stingy or was he legitimately short of money? She wasn’t sure how much gardeners made, or how successful of a gardener he actually was. “I’ll pay for this, and then I’ll drive you home.”

  Charlie nodded uncertainly. She wondered if he found it a little emasculating to have the woman pay and drive him home on his date. But whether he did or not, no complaint was issued. Allie settled the bill, left a ten percent tip, and led the way outside to the car to drive him home.

  In retrospect, she almost wished she’d let him drive. Almost.

  Chapter 17

  Allie was driving the Miata down the country road away from the restaurant and back towards Hawthorne. She was comfortable behind the wheel of the car, even if it was lower than what she was used to, and would have been positively enjoying it if she was alone.

  But, of course, she wasn’t.

  They’d had the windows open for the beginning of the journey, but they’d soon shut them after Charlie got whacked in the face by the tip of a branch that had encroached into the air above the road’s surface. Now they had to talk some more.

  “It’s strange being in the passenger seat of this car,” said Charlie, who was leaning forward to peer out the window ahead.

  “Is it? I thought it was okay on the drive over.”

  He glanced her way before flicking his eyes back to the road. “No, I mean I’m used to being the driver. I’m not sure I like being a passenger.”

  “Are you scared I’m going to crash?”

  “Umm. No. It’s just...”

  “You are! You’re worried I’m not a good driver. I can assure you, I’ve never even got a point on my license.”

  “I’m sure you’re technically very good. But points aren’t everything. You need quick reactions and lightning reflexes,” he said with the confidence of a well-practised tautologist.

  “If you drive carefully, you’re ready for anything,” said Allie. She was quite confident in her own ability to drive. What she was not confident in, though, was everyone else’s. Most people were terrible drivers in her experience.

  Charlie didn’t respond, but she knew he didn’t agree. He was probably one of those people who thought that the fact he could drive fast meant he was a good driver.

  The road felt narrower at night, and the trees that overhung the road from both sides made it feel like she was driving through a never ending, unlit tunnel. The only visible light came from the car’s headlights which she kept on high beam most of the time, only dipping them when a very occasional car from the other direction made itself known with its own bright lights.

  They were almost the only ones on the road that evening. Some way behind them was another car whose lights Allie sometimes caught in her rear-view mirror, but it didn’t seem to be in any hurry to catch them up, even though Allie was sticking to the speed limit precisely.

  “So that woman in the restaurant. Do you think she was cheating on Larry?” asked Charlie.

  “I’m not the best judge of people, but it looked that way to me. Unless she just got back in the dating game very quickly.”

  “That doesn’t seem very likely, does it? Who would go on a date just a couple of days after their partner was buried?”

  “Yep. That’s what I’m thinking. And it makes me wonder whether the guy she was with had something to do with it.”

  “Ooh. He could be the killer! He could have murdered Larry because he was a love rival!” Charlie seemed positively enthused at the possibility. “Did we just have dinner with a murderer?”

  Allie almost giggled but thought it might be rude, so caught herself. “Well, I don’t know about that. Maybe.”

  She slowed the car down as they came to a crossroads.

  “It’s a left here,” said Charlie.

  “I know,” said Allie, not liking to be told what to do or where to go.

  She brought the car to a complete stop, her indicator light blinking nice and early before they reached it.

  “There’s nothing coming. You can just go,” said Charlie when he realised she fully intended to stop the car completely.

  She shook her head but didn’t respond. Something had caught her eye. She peered into the rear-view mirror.

  “Come on, let’s go,” said Charlie, tapping his fingers on the dashboard.

  Allie blinked and coc
ked her head. In the mirror, the car from before that had been trailing quite far behind them was rapidly approaching them, its headlights on full beam and almost blinding, even in the reflection of the mirror.

  “That’s weird...”

  The car wasn’t slowing down. In fact, it was approaching at a very, very fast rate.

  It wasn’t going to stop.

  And so, for the first time in her driving life, Allie floored it.

  The Miata leapt forward like it had been stung, and Charlie shouted like he had too. “Whoa!”

  She spun the wheel when they were just shy of halfway across the road, and the Miata obligingly leaned as it turned, excited to be finally driven in a way keeping with its sporty stylings.

  The car spun to the left, and just in time too. With not more than a hair’s breadth of room between them, the car behind roared through the space the Miata had occupied just a moment before. Allie just about managed to keep the car on the road, but the right-hand side of it scraped up against the hawthorn hedgerow with loud squeals as its twigs scraped against the windows.

  “WHOA!” repeated Charlie, and this time it wasn’t with excitement. “What the heck was that?”

  The other car had sped right through the crossroads and they could hear it still accelerating away. Allie pressed the button to put on the hazard lights as she slowed the car to a halt. The interior of the car smelt of burnt tyre and it cloyed in the back of her throat.

  Allie was breathing deeply like Jackie had taught her to do in yoga to try and remain calm. After three deep breaths, she opened her mouth to talk. “That was a large SUV. Maybe a Range Rover?”

  “Yeah, I got that part,” said Charlie.

  “And they just tried to kill us.”

  “That’s what I was referring to. If you hadn’t...”

  “Yep. If I hadn’t accelerated away and swerved around the corner, he would have driven right through us.”

  Charlie looked around the interior of the car, examining it.

  “It would have destroyed us. We’d be red smears on his windscreen if you hadn’t gotten us out the way.”

  “I think we should get out of here, in case he comes back.” Allie turned off the hazards and began, with some shaking, to drive them back towards Hawthorne. She was torn between driving incredibly slowly due to the shock, or extremely quickly to escape any more possible murder attempts. She settled on the happy medium of driving at the speed limit.