Secret Alibi

by Lori L. Harris

  So which was it? Had the grieving young woman lost touch with reality, created a story where she hadn’t miscarried? Instead, had given her baby up for adoption? Lexie scrubbed her face with her hands. Or had the neighbors failed to notice the pregnancy?

  And was there any reason to believe that there was a connection between Amanda Wilkes and Dan’s murder? Wasn’t it just as likely that the reason Dan was dead had nothing to do with anything in those charts? That Lexie and Jack were going miles and miles down a dark road that led nowhere but to prison?

  Despite the heat duct spewing warm air, she shivered.

  She’d left the bedroom door open, and the subtle creak of a floorboard made her glance toward the opening. Jack stood there, his chest bare, a towel wrapped around his middle, his hair a darker shade of blond because it was still wet. The scent of clean male skin and shampoo filled the room.

  “Finding everything?” he asked.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “I just want to grab a few things. Then I’ll clear out of your way. Let you get some sleep.”

  He crossed to the dresser and opened a top drawer. She couldn’t quite stop herself from watching the play of muscles across his shoulders. The way the damp towel clung to his firm buttocks. She remembered her fingers curling into their hardness two months ago, urging his thrusts deeper, faster.

  Some hint of motion in the mirror jolted her, and when she lifted her gaze, she met Jack’s. She felt as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  Sparks of awareness danced along her skin and heat pooled low and heavy in her body. It had never been like that with anyone else. The sharp spike of physical need brought on by close proximity, by a simple look. By a not-so-simple memory.

  Jack closed the drawer, the sudden movement and sound causing Lexie to jump slightly.

  “I think I have everything I need. I’ll just go—”

  She should have offered to get out of his way sooner, she realized. “No, I can—”

  Both made a move for the door at the same moment. They collided. When she tried to retreat too quickly, she backed into the bed. Jack caught her by the shoulders to steady her. Even when the support was no longer needed, he continued to hold her.

  Lexie looked down at her hands. Trapped between their bodies, they curled from the need to touch him. His chest was well-muscled, covered in honey-toned hair that reached from tight male nipple to tight male nipple, before trailing down his hard abdomen and disappearing into the thin towel. There was no disguising that he was aroused.

  Jack inhaled sharply. His fingers shifted. He probably hadn’t intended it as a caress, but it had that effect. Her already shallow breathing halted. And when she lifted her gaze again, she realized just where she and Jack were headed.

  As she stared into his eyes, his fingers flexed on her shoulder as they had earlier. The last time, their pressure had conveyed understanding. This time they communicated something far different.

  There didn’t seem to be any reason to stop. She didn’t know what the future would bring. But she did know what she would find in this man’s arms. The ability to forget for a few hours the nightmare that had become her life. To be held. To be warmed by another. To fill the emptiness. And most importantly, not to feel quite so alone.

  Jack’s mouth descended to within a whisper of hers, the craving inside her expanding so that she could barely breathe now. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands down toward where the towel wrapped his waist. His harsh intake of breath as she reached terry cloth tightened the sexual hunger inside her.

  She swayed into him, her breasts brushing against his chest, her fingers loosening the towel. Abdominal muscles bunched—not just Jack’s, but hers, too.

  And then suddenly, his hands wrapped around her wrists, halting their action.

  Startled, Lexie opened her eyes. No matter what his hands said, his gaze said he wanted her. But that he wasn’t going to act on that want.

  “Jack?”

  Releasing her, he backed away. “I think it would be best if we didn’t do what we were just about to do. It will only complicate matters.”

  With that, he turned and walked away.

  Chapter Ten

  It was still dark out when she was awakened by Jack digging through dresser drawers again. She rolled up onto one elbow. “What’s going on?”

  The bedroom door was half-open, the light from the hallway reaching across the room, but falling well short of both the bed and the dresser.

  “We’re meeting Alec,” Jack said without turning to look in her direction.

  “In the middle of the night? Did something happen?”

  “Happen? No. Alec and I run most mornings.”

  “Could you define ‘morning’ in this case?”

  “It’s nearly six.”

  She groaned. “That late?”

  Reaching up, she turned on the lamp beside the bed. When Jack didn’t go running from the room after one glance at her, she figured she must look better than she felt. Bolstered a bit, she eased up into a sitting position. For the past two mornings, her stomach had behaved, but there was never any guarantee with morning sickness.

  As she had last night, she watched Jack rummage in drawers. At least he was dressed this time, in a navy blue or black T-shirt and boxers of a similar color.

  She hadn’t slept well. Mostly because she couldn’t seem to let go of her embarrassment over the way she’d acted last night. Two months ago, he’d briefly pursued her, and she’d said she wasn’t interested. That was before the murder charge, though. It shouldn’t surprise her that, though he intended to help her, he didn’t want to get mixed up with a woman whose next address might be the state penitentiary.

  Lexie bowed her head and scrubbed her face again. What would her life be like now if she hadn’t turned Jack down when he’d called the morning after? The same? Different? What if she’d stopped by Jack’s that night instead of going to Dan’s?

  She’d have the best alibi a girl could—the chief of police—that’s what. She’d still have a job. Enough money in her account to meet financial obligations. Credit cards that weren’t nearly maxed out. Friends who called with happy news instead of asking about her problems. Not that she’d talked with many of her friends over the past few days. The fact that she hadn’t was her fault. They’d left messages. She just didn’t have it in her to pretend that everything was going to be okay when she was becoming more and more certain that it wouldn’t.

  Jack tossed her running shorts and a blue sweatshirt with National Academy done in yellow lettering. “You better get into those. Alec is on his way over.”

  Arching her back, she yawned. “Sounds like a boys outing to me.”

  “Maybe. But I need the exercise and I have no intention of leaving you here alone.”

  “If you’re worried about the killer stopping by, I don’t think that’s likely to happen. I can’t imagine he or she is in any hurry to get rid of me. Not as long as I’m scheduled to take the fall. Kill me and she or he has to worry about the police getting it right the next time around.”

  “An ‘I told you so ’doesn’t make the grave any more comfortable.” Jack turned and headed for the door a second time. “Besides, a few endorphins kicking around your system are bound to help.” As he left the room, he pulled the door shut behind him.

  Still bleary, she sat on the edge of bed and tried to get her bearings. She’d always been one of those people who rolled out of bed with energy to burn, but six nights of either too little sleep or no sleep had finally taken a toll on her reserves. Her body wasn’t just coping with the sleep deprivation. High stress and the pregnancy had also exacted their pounds of flesh—from the way her clothes were fitting, she would guess at least five or six.

  As for the stress, she needed to get a handle on it somehow, and exercise was a good place to start. Maybe she should have asked how many miles they typically ran. When she’d been carrying Lindy, she had jogged well into her seventh month
, so it wasn’t the exercise that worried her, but her ability to keep up.

  After stumbling into the running shorts and fighting her way into the sweatshirt, she crossed the hall to the bathroom. Maybe cold water would replace what she really needed, a bottle of vitamins and ninety-nine hours of sleep.

  She took one look in the mirror, leaned in closer when she didn’t recognize the face. Sunken eyes. Skin that was dry and lifeless. Freckles that didn’t seem so much sprinkled as troweled across her nose and along her cheekbones.

  Jack rapped once on the door. “We’ll meet you outside.”

  “Okay.” As he walked away, she glanced at the makeup kit balanced on the edge of the pedestal sink. Why bother? Anything she put on now would be sweated off in the first half mile.

  Lexie used an elasticized band to pull her hair back into a thick ponytail. It wasn’t a good look for her. With the loss of weight, it made her cheekbones appear too prominent and emphasized the squareness of her jawline.

  She grimaced at the face in the mirror. So she wasn’t a beauty queen. Whoopdeedoo. She’d grown up a tomboy, and even as an adult hadn’t quite outgrown the tendency.

  Jack and his brother looked up as she closed the front door behind her and stepped out onto the front porch. It was still mostly dark out, but wouldn’t be for much longer. She was thankful for the sweatshirt. The temperature couldn’t have been much above fifty, the chill attacking her bare legs.

  She jogged stiffly down the steps. “Morning.”

  Both men nodded but remained mute. Must be a family thing, she decided. Even if they didn’t exactly look like brothers, there was no disguising that they were. They used the same mute nod as a greeting. During most conversations, they would leave silence hanging as if it were an interrogation they were conducting. And she suspected neither one of them missed much when it came to their surroundings. Or to people.

  Both men were already going through their warm-up with the rhythm of those who did it often and knew which muscle group came next. Lexie chose a position off to the side and followed suit.

  After stretching each calf muscle, she moved on to the quad-riceps. As she was working her hamstrings, she became uncomfortably aware that both men had stopped to watch. Lexie released her foot. “What’s the distance this morning, boys?”

  The men exchanged amused smiles. They didn’t think she’d be able to keep up. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to, but it wouldn’t be from lack of trying.

  Jack stretched an arm above his head and bent to the side. “Alec and I usually do six.”

  “Then six it is.” Lexie took off at an easy pace.

  She’d managed to catch Jack and his brother off guard, but they caught up quickly and pushed ahead. Jack grinned as he passed. “If you need to stop, just yell. If we’re still close enough to hear you.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  They both knew it was an empty threat, that no matter how poorly she performed, Jack would be only steps ahead.

  She quickly realized that she didn’t like being the one to bring up the rear, but experience said that if she pushed now, the guys would probably just speed up. By mile five, she’d most likely be struggling to maintain the pace they’d set.

  When it came to competing with males, it wasn’t just about physical prowess; it was also about mental prowess. The guy was always going to get you with the first, but the second, if used properly, could easily level the field. Jack and Alec expected her to be the weaker gender, so she would sandbag for a while, set them off their usual pace.

  Besides, bringing up the rear wasn’t so bad when you had two fine male specimens ahead of you. Great butts. Nicely muscled legs and broad shoulders. Yeah. A girl could do a whole lot worse than chasing after the Blade brothers.

  As dawn stole onto the streets, the colors around them seemed briefly washed in gray, but sharpened quickly. They kept to quiet neighborhoods, dodging puddles left by overnight rain. The sharp bark of a dog and the sound of a car being gunned to life overtook the morning stillness. But it was her breathing and that of the two men that seemed the loudest now. And the rhythmic slap of rubber soles on blacktop.

  Because of what she considered her innate laziness, the first mile was always the toughest for her.

  In recent months, having taken to running the old turpentine trails out near Riverhouse, Lexie had grown accustomed to rural scenery. The tawny hip-high grasses that waved gracefully in a breeze, or less often stirred noisily as her approach startled an armadillo or opossum. Trees that from a distance seemed to be covered in gigantic white flowers, but as dawn brightened, the “blooms”—the egrets—would fly away, sailing out into the new sky like hope.

  And then there was the absence of manmade sounds that could clutter the mind at times. More than anything else, it had probably been her early morning runs that had helped her hang on during those dark days after losing Lindy.

  As they made a wide synchronized swing out into the roadway to avoid a man getting into his car, almost like schooling fish evading a predator, Jack glanced back. Lexie closed her mouth, pretended that her breathing was a little easier and smoother than it really was.

  Sweat coated her rib cage, and her hair band loosened. Normally she would have stopped to deal with it, but was afraid if she lost any ground, she would never be able to regain it.

  By mile three, the endorphins made their appearance. She had never been so glad to feel them.

  Jack dropped back around mile four. “Doing okay?” His face carried the sheen of his exertions and his hair was damp around the edges, but she found both oddly sexy. As she did his grin.

  “Doing fine.” In need of more oxygen, Lexie had resorted to breathing through her mouth, so it took great effort to make her words come out smoothly. “How about you?” She managed a smile. “If you two need to stop or anything, let me know.”

  His grin spreading a bit, he shook his head. Instead of rejoining his brother, he stayed with her. She liked running beside Jack. But then she was beginning to believe that doing any physical activity with him would be enjoyable. Dan had never been particularly active, certainly never into any kind of physical challenge.

  But a man like Jack Blade would challenge a woman on many different levels.

  They were now into the downtown area, running along the wide, deserted sidewalk in front of Jan’s Antiques and Seminole Stationary and Gifts. Past a women’s clothing shop and a toy store. Lexie’s breathing was coming hard now, and she could feel the burn, not just in her muscles but in her chest, as well.

  She would have liked to ask how much farther, but was afraid that Jack would think she was looking to stop. And for some reason she wanted to be seen as tough. Maybe because she sensed that it was the one attribute that both men admired.

  And one of the most indelible characteristics that linked these two men. Not just physical stamina, but intellectual and moral strength. She saw Jack’s willingness to help her as an indication of just how tough he was morally.

  It wasn’t until Alec broke down to a walk, and she saw the only business with lights on just ahead, that she realized their destination. Being the coward that she was these days when it came to public appearances, she would have preferred to keep running.

  Jack and Lexie halted beside Alec just outside Alligator Café. As much as she probably needed to eat, the thought of food wasn’t appealing. And she was also worried that some of the cooking smells might set off her stomach.

  Lexie glanced inside at the few people sitting at tables. At least two of them were doctors that she called on. Colleagues of Dan’s. What kind of reception could she expect? Still fighting to even her breathing, she loosened her hair, smoothing it as best she could, before pulling it back into a ponytail again. Her legs were slick, her sweatshirt damp with perspiration. The running had left her dehydrated, and she suspected her eyes probably appeared even more sunken.

  Alec held the door for her. For the first time since they met, his eyes didn’t seem quite
so remote. “You did well this morning.”

  “You mean for a girl, don’t you?”

  She saw amusement in his face. “For a man or a woman. How far do you normally run?”

  “Three or four miles, three times a week.”

  Grinning, Jack stepped past his brother, who still held the door open. “I told you that she’d keep up.”

  The fluorescent lights offered a benign hum. As soon as the three of them entered, the only waitress who seemed to be working hooked an index finger through the handles of a trio of mugs at the same time that she grabbed a coffee carafe. On the way past the cash register, she snagged a menu.

  Lexie glanced over her shoulder. “Eat here much?”

  “Seven mornings a week.”

  As she passed the two doctors, she offered a smile.

  Neither one of them returned it. Before she could even really feel the snub, though, Jack touched her briefly and lightly in the middle of her back. “Come on. I could use a cup of coffee.”

  Lexie had thought she was going to be okay. That she could deal with the aromas of grease and raw egg. But as she was about to slide into the booth, sudden nausea sent her running for the ladies’ room.

  The scent of disinfectant got her even worse as she dived into the first stall. By the time she straightened, her abdominal muscles felt as if they’d worked as hard as those in her legs had.

  Lexie stood at the sink, staring at the woman in the mirror again, wondering how long she could continue to keep silent. She’d thought waiting was the answer, but realized now that the longer she did so, the more difficult it was going to be to come clean.

  “So you think you’re tough?”

  Another diner pushed open the bathroom door and walked in—a thin, lively looking woman with curly gray hair, dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater. Lexie offered a smile and immediately received one in return. Which pretty much guaranteed that the stranger was a tourist. Locals either looked right past Lexie, as if afraid to meet her eyes because of what might happen to them, or they stared.