Alibis Can Be Murder

by Connie Shelton

  As I tossed a tennis ball about a hundred times and watched my little sweetie race to bring it back, I thought of my earlier conversation with Buddy Blue at Innocent Times. He’d said he might be able to answer my question about the location of the calls and social media posts if I could bring him the phone they’d been posted from. Once again, I chastised myself for not grabbing Zayne’s phone that night I’d had the chance. It was beginning to look as if I would have to come right out and ask to borrow it, and I could come up with no logical reason for that.

  As before, I wished this whole thing could be as simple as walking up to their house, finding both girls home at the same time, and snapping the photo I needed. It wasn’t going to happen. I knew it. This was a silly fantasy.

  I informed Freckles she’d done enough fetching. You’d think a dog would figure this out when her tongue hung out and her feet began to drag. We leashed up and headed back toward home.

  The landscaper’s truck was gone when I sighted the Delaney house. For one brief moment I toyed with the idea of sneaking around back to see if my former route into their house was still available, but it was broad daylight now. I figured I’d better not push my luck.

  I realized, belatedly, that I really ought to tell Clover about the easy access. She was there alone a lot of the time, and the unlocked doors invited danger. On the other hand, I couldn’t very well admit I knew about the two unlocked doors; I’d had no business in their backyard in the first place. Next time I was legitimately in the house I would saunter through the kitchen and simply lock the connecting door myself. Sheesh—what a tangled web I’d woven.

  All those thoughts flashed through my head in an instant, and by the time we were adjacent with the house Clover came roaring up the street in her blue ’Vette. With a squeak of tires on concrete, she stopped inches from their garage door. She got out of the car and slammed the door. Her eyes looked red, her face blotchy.

  “Clover? Everything okay?” I called out.

  She halted in surprise, as if anyone wouldn’t have noticed her dramatic return.

  Freckles spotted the girl and tugged urgently at her leash. I let go of it and watched her race toward Clover while I crossed the lawn at a more leisurely pace. The energetic dog wiggled her whole body, hoping for a smile.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to let her rush you like that,” I said. “You seemed upset just now.”

  Clover gripped her car keys so hard I thought she would draw blood. She ignored the eager pup and turned toward her front door. We’d not been invited but Freckles and I followed anyway.

  “Is it about Zayne?” I asked.

  The wings of her long hair concealed her face as she took her time going through the four keys on her key ring. From the depths of her oversized purse, I heard her phone ding with an incoming text message. She ignored it and settled on a key for the front door. When she looked up, her eyes were moist.

  “Damn Ryan,” she said through gritted teeth. She seemed to realize I was waiting for an answer to my question. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” I said. “Hey, how about coming over to our house for awhile? I’ve got lemonade and it’s a nice afternoon to sit out back.” I realized how Elsa the invitation sounded.

  Her phone chimed again and she sniffed. “That’s okay. I’ve got …”

  The words trailed off and she waved vaguely.

  Not to be ignored, Freckles danced around both of us. When Clover unlocked her front door, the dog nosed it open and dashed inside.

  “Freckles!” I stomped madly at the trailing leash, trying to halt the dog, but she was way ahead of me.

  Clover stood aside, a little dazed, and I rushed to catch up with my dog, who had already discovered a bag of chips on the living room coffee table. She managed to tip it off the table and had crunched down a bunch of them before I could get my hands on her collar.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I said.

  When I looked up, I saw Clover was smiling.

  “Sorry.” I picked up the bag and held it high above my head. Freckles stared wistfully, completely oblivious as to why I was upset with her.

  At least the incident had diffused Clover’s anger. She reached out to the dog and began ruffling her fur while I carried the near-empty bag to the kitchen.

  “It’s not like I was going to eat the rest of it anyway,” she said with a sad note to her voice.

  When I came back, she had dropped her large purse on the sofa and a few items spilled out, including two cell phones. One of them chimed again and the screen lit up. Little banners showed the two messages from the past few minutes.

  “Sorry,” she said, “I need to get that.”

  She let go of Freckles and scooped up the phone, turning toward her bedroom. There I stood, looking at the phone in the bright pink case, the one I’d been wishing I had borrowed the last time I spotted it. Clover was out of sight. The phone sat right there, in easy reach.

  Yeah, I’ll admit it. I went for the easy grab. In a half-second, the phone was in my back pocket. For good measure, I tipped her purse a little farther, scattering a few more items onto the sofa so the missing item wouldn’t be so obvious.

  “I’ll catch you another time, Clover,” I called out from the front door. “Maybe we can do something later in the week.”

  She appeared at the bedroom door down the hall. “Yeah, sure.”

  I kept facing her so she wouldn’t see my pocket, but her attention was riveted on her text messages. Freckles didn’t quite understand why I was so eager to leave all the enticing scents she had discovered in the kitchen trash, but I was insistent with her.

  A couple minutes later, in the privacy of my own home, I pulled out the card from Innocent Times and dialed their tech guy, Buddy Blue.

  Chapter 39

  Buddy suggested we meet at five-thirty at Rubio’s, which I gathered was his favorite after-work watering hole. It was convenient for him, not so much for me, as I would be driving across town in rush-hour traffic. I budgeted some extra time and was ready to head out the door when Drake pulled into the driveway.

  “Hey you,” he said, pulling me close for a kiss when I opened the front door for him. “I’ve got some exciting news.”

  “Is it quick news? I’m suppose to be meeting a tech guy in forty minutes.” I glanced at my watch. “Unless you want to come along and talk while I drive?”

  He pointed to his flight suit, which was a little grungy at the knees. He’d obviously been assisting with maintenance.

  “I’ll make it quick, then fill in the rest when you get back. I’ve got more details about that little cabin. It’s been tied up in an old woman’s estate and no one has been up there in more than twenty years. I think we can get it.”

  I hadn’t said anything, but I’d found myself thinking more and more about the little mountain place in recent days. My auto accident hadn’t been serious, but it got me thinking about the risks of everyday life and the missed opportunities Drake and I had when I was out chasing down bad guys. Finding a place to truly get away from reality for awhile seemed like heaven. I told him where I was going and he said he would have dinner ready when I returned.

  Rubio’s is one of those places that had a huge heyday about twenty years ago. Big hit when it opened, always crowded, it boasted great steak dinners and a bar where Albuquerque’s business crowd hung out. The allure lasted a good five years—almost a record for this town—until the next new dazzler opened and the crowd drifted six blocks up the street.

  For the past ten years or so, Rubio’s has held on by its teeth, supported by guys like Buddy Blue who come by for a beer after work and rarely stay through the dinner hour. The menu has scaled way back, with the big sellers these days being nachos and chicken wings.

  Buddy sat at a roomy booth with a mini laptop open on the table. I sat across from him and handed over the phone I’d swiped from Clover’s bag. I’d already asked him what he would charge to hack the account an
d he said it depended on how long it took. He made a couple of little um-hm noises, which didn’t tell me a whole lot, then pulled out a cord and plugged the phone into his computer. Quicker than it takes to tell about it, he unplugged it and handed the phone back to me.

  “That’s it?”

  “Just the beginning. I have the phone’s data—it’s registered to a Zayne Delaney. Now I have to search through it. What was it you wanted to know, exactly?”

  “Text messages, social media posts and phone calls from the past couple months—were they made from here in town or somewhere else? If elsewhere, I’d love to know where.”

  He tapped keys and scowled at his screen. Maybe I should tell him if he keeps that up he’ll have permanently deep eyebrow wrinkles by the time he’s thirty.

  “Okay … let’s see …” His finger zipped around over the touchpad. “Phone calls were definitely made locally. Did you look at this before you brought it? More than half these were made to a number registered to Clover Delaney. There’s a few international. I think the country code is for Egypt? Not positive about that.”

  The parents. Donna had said Rick and Jane were on location in the desert somewhere.

  “Are there incoming calls from Egypt, too?”

  “Yep. Sure are.”

  I noticed his beer was empty, asked if he’d like another, and flagged down the server to bring it, along with a glass of water for myself and some chips and salsa for the table. My tummy told me lunch had been a long time ago and dinner was still a way off.

  Buddy reached for his new beer without taking his eyes from the computer screen.

  “Text messages … looks like the same thing, although there’s a ton more numbers exchanging those. We’ve got Missy, Ryan, Mom, Delfina, Clover, Jen, Ashley, Connor … You want a list of all the names?”

  It seemed that would be a lot of work, but while I pondered the usefulness of the information to me he continued to tap away.

  “Never mind,” he said. “It’s simpler to copy them all and let you sort it out. What’s your email?”

  I gave it to him and a moment later heard my phone’s familiar alert tone. I tapped the icon and spotted the message from Buddy. Scrolling through, I saw it was a long list. I would check it carefully later. Glancing around the room I noticed couples at other tables, each person in his or her own little world on an electronic device. I wondered if anyone seeing us at a glance would think Buddy and I were a similar couple. I stifled a chuckle and picked up a tortilla chip.

  “So, that’s it for the simple part,” Buddy said, dipping into the salsa for the first time. “How much deeper do you want me to go?”

  “What’s the cost and what would we learn?”

  “I could get into the account and watch it live, in real time. Give you the person’s movements and let you know who they’re contacting. We can even go with text alerts to you if we see anything unusual. Rex bills my time at two hundred an hour.”

  I gulped—it was quite a bit more than we were charging Donna for our time; I’d already sat here more than a hundred dollars’ worth.

  “Tonight’s not on Rex’s clock. Buy me a burger and the beers, and we’re good for the little bit I’ve done here.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that. In this case, I pretty much know who’s using the phone and I don’t think knowing her movements step-by-step will make much difference.”

  He didn’t seem especially disappointed. I got the feeling Innocent Times kept him plenty busy.

  “I’d be happy to get you something fancier than a burger,” I said. “Name it. Anything on the menu.”

  “Burger’s good. Maybe some extra fries.”

  I flagged the server again and placed the order, letting Buddy know I needed to head home. I had a good idea what Clover was up to, using Zayne’s phone. I still had no idea why the elaborate cover-up.

  I puzzled over it as I drove home, and then it hit me. Most likely, Zayne was up to something she wanted to conceal from her parents so she’d left her phone with Clover so the calls to mom and dad would show up coming from her number. She’d probably run off with a guy and got herself a new phone, one they knew nothing about.

  Now that I had a logical answer, I wondered how I could go about proving it. Again, the only idea that came to me was to get closer to Clover and hope she would talk to me. Obviously, she was in on the game.

  Chapter 40

  We sat out under the gazebo, Drake and I, late into the evening, bundled into a warm comforter with mugs of hot chocolate at hand.

  “I talked with a young woman named Maria Greenwood,” he told me. “Her great-grandparents built the cabin in the 1930s and started a goat farm. Their name was Locke. As Maria recalled, the story was the goat venture didn’t succeed and the couple moved to Albuquerque to raise their children. When her husband died in an accident on the highway road crew where he worked, Sarah Locke became a writer. She moved to the cabin full time once her two daughters were grown, and she lived there into her nineties. When she died, the estate was sort of a mess. The next generation was aging and no one wanted the place. Maria said she’d only been there a few times as a child and couldn’t even remember how they got there except it involved an extremely long walk.”

  “I wonder how such an elderly woman could manage.”

  “I asked the same question. Maria said Sarah kept a horse and would load her groceries and such into saddle bags.”

  “Wow—I can’t imagine.” Here I’d been buzzing all over the city in a speedy sports car. We take so many things for granted in modern life. “Earlier, you said you thought they would sell the place?”

  “Maria is checking with the remaining heirs. Apparently, not thinking of the repercussions, Sarah left this, her only remaining property, to all her heirs, to be divided equally. It gave each of them such a pittance no one took charge. In the meantime, Sarah’s daughters have passed on and the next generation consists of Maria’s mother and an uncle who lives in Texas. Maria said she couldn’t see any reason they wouldn’t sell. We’re apparently the only people who’ve expressed an interest in the place in decades.”

  I snuggled beside him, my thoughts vivid with images of an old woman living in the tiny cabin, writing her books and rarely going to town. I wondered how I would be in my senior years and found there was something immensely appealing about the pictures of Sarah Locke living independently, away from civilization. Next thing I knew, Drake was lifting my empty mug from my hands and suggesting we go to bed.

  I dreamed of the little cabin in the mountains but, in the weird way of dreamland, it now had three bedrooms, a hot tub and a backyard pool. I woke with a start and wondered at the strangeness of the human psyche.

  The sun was well above the top of Sandia Crest when I walked out to the driveway and got into my borrowed Corvette. I really did need to get serious about vehicle shopping so I wouldn’t be responsible for this expensive toy much longer. I’d started the engine when I looked up to see Elsa coming across my lawn. I shut down again and stood beside the car.

  “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you how things are going?” she said in greeting.

  My brain zipped backward through recent thoughts—new car, mountain cabin … but I knew she meant the Delaney twins.

  “I still don’t know anything for certain, but we’re getting closer.” I didn’t think it was a great idea to admit I’d taken Zayne’s phone and had a professional hacking job done on it. “The girls seem to be in touch with each other and with their parents, so I’m sure everything’s okay.”

  There was no point in going into the details of everything I’d learned. I thought I could trust Elsa’s discretion, but what if she blurted out something when she got together with her card ladies? Better to be vague at this point.

  I gave her a hug and got back into the car. Traffic was picking up by the time I reached the office. I was the first to arrive so I started the coffee maker and switched on lights as I walked through the rooms. I checked voicemail w
here a call from an insurance adjuster waited for me.

  She told me the dollar amount they were paying for my totaled Jeep and asked me to come by their office to sign a release and collect my check. I blew out a breath. It wasn’t nearly enough to buy a new one.

  Ron came in the kitchen door just then, interrupting my moody reflections. I joined him at the coffee machine.

  “How’s things?” he asked in such a chipper voice I knew it probably meant he and Victoria had great early-morning sex.

  I filled him in on what I’d learned from Buddy Blue. “Clover Delaney is obviously a part of whatever her sister is hiding. Maybe if I spend a little more time with her I can get her to open up and tell me about it.”

  He dumped two heaping spoonsful of sugar into his coffee and gave it a stir.

  “What about your case? Any word on Bobby Lorrento’s ring?”

  “I called the detective in El Paso late yesterday. He didn’t have much for me. Said he would call if there was progress.”

  I suppressed a wave of impatience. Two cases. Vague clues but no answers. Last night’s conversation with Drake about the cabin had turned my thoughts toward our plans and future, and that’s where I wanted to go right now, not traipsing about in circles that involved the problems of spoiled rich people. I carried my coffee and the message sheet where I’d written the insurance lady’s name to my office.

  Ron’s head appeared at my doorway. “Meant to tell you—Vic says she has to cancel tonight. We’ve unexpectedly got the boys for a couple days.”

  I’d nearly forgotten our impromptu plan to go to Radz nightclub. Oh well. I most likely wouldn’t have learned anything new about the Delaney girls, anyway.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I wasn’t much up for it any more.”

  Back to the insurance lady. I phoned her and we made an appointment in an hour’s time. She said I would need to bring the title to my Jeep, which meant a dash back home to get the document from the safe.