Her Alibi

by Carol Ericson

  Savannah knew he’d be listening to every word the two of them said.

  Tiffany’s mouth immediately curved down. “Thank you. It was a shock.”

  Savannah pulled up the chair between the two recliners now inhabited by Tiffany on one side and Connor on the other. “Do you have any idea who would want to kill Niles?”

  “Besides you and me?”

  Savannah sucked in a breath. “That’s not funny, Tiffany. I hope you’re not telling the detectives that.”

  She waved her long nails in the air. “No, but he was a cheatin’ dog, wasn’t he? The cops are gonna learn that, even if we don’t tell them.”

  “I had ceased to care about Niles’s cheating.”

  “Did you ever care?” Tiffany shoved her sunglasses to the top of her head and shifted her gaze to Connor, lounging behind her.

  Savannah scooted to the right to block her view. “Did Niles tell you anything about problems he was having, or any enemies?”

  “No.” Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “Is that what you came here to ask me? Are you workin’ for the popo now?”

  “Just curious.” Savannah bent forward and straightened a strap on her sandal, dipping her hand into Tiffany’s bag at the same time. “I really came to see you to make sure you contact Niles’s attorney, Chris Neelon. Niles definitely left you something in his will.”

  “He did?” Tiffany’s lips parted. “How much?”

  “That, I don’t know. That’s why you have to call Neelon. I wanted to make sure you knew about Niles’s will.”

  “Do those detectives have to know that?” Tiffany flicked her fingers in the air at a young man in a white shirt and slacks crossing the pool deck.

  “It’s a murder investigation. They’ll know everything like that.”

  The man stopped in front of Tiffany’s chaise longue and flashed a set of white teeth in his brown face. “Pool-side massage, Ms. James?”

  “Yes, Diego. Can you set that up and I’ll be over in a few minutes?” She glanced at Savannah. “If we’re done.”

  “We’re done. Just wanted to let you know about Niles’s will and see if you had any ideas who killed him.” Savannah twisted around in her chair. “Are you ready over there, sun worshipper?”

  Connor opened one eye and rubbed a hand across his chest. “Feels good.”

  “I can have Diego set up another massage, if you like.” Tiffany sat forward and tugged her swimsuit cover-up from her impressive body.

  Connor didn’t even blink. “We’d better get going. We wouldn’t want to disturb you in your mourning.”

  Tiffany’s nostrils flared. “What’s done is done.”

  Savannah pushed up from the chair and raised her hand. “I suppose I’ll see you at the funeral—whenever they release the body.”

  As Tiffany stretched out again like a cat, they sauntered across the pool deck and swung open the gate.

  When it clanged behind them, Connor took Savannah’s arm. “That didn’t tell us much.”

  “Maybe Tiffany didn’t tell us much, but her condo will.” Savannah held up the key chain she’d swiped from Tiffany’s bag. “But we’ll have to make it fast before she notices it’s missing.”

  “You’re kidding.” Connor dropped his shirt on the ground.

  “While some of us were flexing our muscles in the sun, some of us were working.”

  “We’d better hurry up in case she changes her mind about succumbing to Diego’s magical hands.” As Connor bent over to sweep up his shirt, he turned his head toward the pool. “Do you know her condo number?”

  “I’ve seen it enough on Niles’s papers and correspondence. It’s 246.”

  Cupping Tiffany’s key chain in her hand, Savannah strode down the path that led back to the units, with Connor right beside her—as it should be. She’d missed having him on her side. He gave her confidence and an unshakable belief that everything would turn out for the best—even when she strongly doubted that, like now.

  They walked upstairs to Tiffany’s corner unit, and as Savannah slid the key into the lock, Connor stood behind her, keeping watch.

  She pushed open the door and stepped inside, the smoky air making her blink. She whispered, “I thought she gave up smoking. That was a deal breaker for Niles.”

  “Niles isn’t around anymore, is he?” Connor nudged her inside and clicked the door behind them.

  Savannah put her hands on her hips and surveyed the messy room. “Why wouldn’t she want us in here?”

  “Are you expecting to find some bloody clothes? A bloody knife?” Connor smacked a fist in his palm. “Oh, wait. We have that.”

  “Maybe she has my button.” Savannah crept toward the hallway leading to the rooms in the back. She paused at the only door that was closed, resting her fingertips on the handle and cocking her head. The hair on the back of her neck quivered for a second before she turned the doorknob.

  She gulped when, out of nowhere, the cold barrel of a gun pressed against her temple.

  Chapter Nine

  The distinctive sound of a safety being released from a handgun cut through the air. Connor reached for his waistband, but he’d left his own weapon at home.

  “Savannah!”

  At his call, she came stumbling back into the room, a large bearded man prodding her forward at gunpoint.

  “What the hell are you doing in my place?”

  Connor’s adrenaline whooshed and receded, leaving him dizzy. He clenched his hands at his sides. “Your place? This is Tiffany James’s place, and we came up here to return her keys.”

  “A-and leave her a card.” Savannah took a small step away from the man holding her at gunpoint. “We just saw her at the pool, and I accidentally took her keys.”

  The man growled, “Why not just go back to the pool and give them to her?”

  “She was going to get a massage. We didn’t want to disturb her.”

  Savannah’s demeanor had him in awe. She could think on her feet with the best of them.

  “With Diego?” The bearded man’s voice boomed behind her.

  “What?” Savannah twisted her head around.

  Connor held out his hand. “Put the gun away, man. This is a misunderstanding. We’re not here to rip you off. Savannah came up here to leave Tiffany an attorney’s card. Put the gun down.”

  The man secured his weapon and shoved it into the waistband of his ripped jeans. “You’re Savannah Wedgewood, Niles’s ex.”

  “That’s right, and you are...?”

  “Denny. Denny Cosgrove, Tiffany’s...ex.”

  Connor’s gaze tracked over Denny’s tousled hair and bare chest. Didn’t look like Denny and Tiffany were ex-anything.

  “This is Connor.” Savannah waved her hand at him.

  At least she hadn’t called him an ex.

  Denny lunged forward with an outstretched paw and squeezed the hell out of Connor’s hand. “Sorry about the gun. I thought someone had broken in.”

  “If we had thought anyone was here, we wouldn’t have just waltzed in with the key.” Savannah dangled Tiffany’s key chain from her finger before dropping it on a table. “Sorry. We’ll just leave this here.”

  “And that card?” Denny scratched his tattooed chest as he eyed Savannah.

  “Of course.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a card, wedging it beneath the key chain.

  Denny slid the card toward him with one thick finger, squinting at the print. “Is this Niles’s attorney? Is Tiffany getting something from Niles?”

  “I believe so, yes.” Savannah slid a quick glance Connor’s way. “Have the police talked to you yet?”

  “Me?” Denny’s face reddened. “Why should they talk to me? I got nothing to do with that murder. I never even met the guy.”

  “I mean when they talked to Tiffany. If you’re staying here...
”

  “I’m not staying here. Just picking up some stuff Tif has of mine.”

  “Okay.” Connor reached out and grabbed Savannah’s hand. “We’ll get out of your way.”

  Denny waved the card at them. “Thanks for this. Tif deserves something after what that guy put her through.”

  Once outside the stuffy condo, they marched toward Savannah’s car in silence. Connor got in the passenger side and waited until Savannah was behind the wheel.

  “That’s why Tiffany didn’t want us at her place. She’s still hooking up with Denny and didn’t want you to know.”

  “Denny sure seemed interested in Niles’s money, didn’t he?”

  “Looks like Niles wasn’t the only one stepping out in that relationship.” Connor buzzed down his window as Savannah started the car. “And Denny is one dude you don’t wanna cross.”

  “He was a little eager to pull out that gun.”

  “It’s not just that, Savannah. Did you see his tattoos? He belongs to Sons of Chaos.”

  “The motorcycle gang? You knew that from his tattoos?”

  “They’re like any other gang. They get certain tattoos that mark their membership and standing in the organization.”

  “You think I should mention this to the police when I go in tomorrow to give my DNA?”

  “Why not? They asked you before if you knew anyone who would want to kill Niles. Denny looks like a good suspect to me.”

  “Do you think Tiffany set up Niles? Maybe not for murder, but to fleece him?” Savannah maneuvered the car out of the parking lot of the condo complex and joined a stream of traffic.

  “That could’ve been the plan, but you don’t think Niles is that naive, do you?” Connor rubbed his chin, which had been itching ever since he saw Denny’s full beard. “Maybe they were playing each other. He was getting what he wanted out of her and paying her for it.”

  Savannah wrinkled her nose. “That sounds so...tawdry. And if Niles was compensating Tiffany for her company, why would she want to kill the goose laying the golden eggs? Why would Denny?”

  “Maybe they knew about the will and figured she’d get more with Niles dead—or at least get it as a lump sum and then she could be with Denny.”

  Savannah shook her head. “I can’t imagine two men more different than Niles and Denny.”

  “Niles and I aren’t exactly twins, either.”

  A rosy blush tinged her cheeks. “That was kind of the point.”

  “Because what we had was so bad?”

  “Because I didn’t need anyone or anything else reminding me of you after I left.”

  “Why?”

  Savannah shifted in her seat and sighed, “If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want to be thinking of you every day.”

  As the car idled at a red light, Connor brushed his knuckles down her forearm. “But you could’ve had me. Didn’t I make that clear?”

  “There was too much guilt for me, Connor.” She sniffled. “My stepfather’s associates killed your father because he was protecting my mom, and that strained your relationship with your mom.”

  “I always had an uncomfortable relationship with my mom. You know that.”

  “I’m sure all that happened between our families made it worse, and the fact that you sided with me over her.”

  “My father was doing his job. He was protecting a citizen of San Juan Beach.”

  “We both know he never would’ve been there if my mom hadn’t called him personally.”

  “If I can forgive you, why can’t you forgive yourself? You don’t even have anything to forgive. You were a barely out of your teens, still in college.”

  The knuckles on Savannah’s hands turned white as she clenched the wheel. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Connor.”

  He turned his head and stared at the passing scenery. Savannah’s excuses didn’t make sense. There had to be more. He’d accepted that she just wasn’t that into him, but the heat between them still sizzled. What he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in her session with Thomas.

  But now he had to settle for a fake relationship with the woman he loved more than anything, the woman he’d lie, cheat and steal for.

  “Don’t you think it would be a good idea if I dropped by the sheriff’s department right now to give them my DNA? Would that make me seem more cooperative?”

  “More anxious. They told you to come in tomorrow. If you keep your original appointment, that’s cooperative enough.”

  Savannah flipped a U-turn and Connor clutched the armrest as the tires of the car squealed. “Where are you going?”

  “The scene of the crime.”

  His fingernails dug into the leather of the armrest. “Are you kidding?”

  “House is still in my name. I still have keys. Why not?”

  “Because your ex was just murdered there and you’re a suspect. It might look suspicious.”

  “If someone sees me. Will the cops have someone watching the place?”

  “Probably not. I’m sure they’re done processing the crime scene by now. They’ve taken their prints, their pictures, their evidence.”

  “Which apparently does not include the button from my blouse.”

  “Too bad we didn’t have a chance to look for that at Tiffany’s.” Connor rolled his tight shoulders. They had too much to deal with too fast.

  As Savannah drove through the pristine neighborhood of La Jolla, Connor glanced at her profile. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “If we’re going to conduct our own investigation into Niles’s murder, we have to start with the scene of the crime.”

  “What do you think you’ll find there?”

  Her head whipped around. “Why are you trying to dissuade me? You said yourself the sheriff’s department has processed the crime scene. My name is still on the title of that house, I have the keys and I have every right to go there. What’s the problem?”

  Connor rubbed his jaw. What was the problem? The nagging voice in the back of his brain that kept telling him the killer would want to return to the scene of the crime?

  “Don’t want it to look bad for you.” He lifted one shoulder.

  Reaching across the console, she rubbed his thigh. “Thanks, but if there’s nobody there to see me, that’s not going to happen. Besides, I have a reason to be there.”

  “Which is?” He held his breath.

  “Niles worked from home a lot, and he has company files there. I want them.”

  “The homicide detectives would’ve taken his laptop and any other devices at the house.”

  “I’m talking about paper files—like the ones he was supposed to hand over to me that night before we were both incapacitated.”

  “Okay, that’s your story. Stick to it.”

  She huffed out a breath. “It’s not a story, Connor. I swear, sometimes you act like I’m guilty.”

  “We don’t know what happened that night, Savannah. You...blacked out.”

  “Sometimes you act like I’m guilty—and that I know I’m guilty.”

  Connor stared out the window as the rolling green lawns and lush, colorful landscaping rushed by. “Did you like living here?”

  She huffed out a long sigh. “I did. The house is beautiful.”

  “If you’re still on the title, that means the house is yours, too, right?”

  Silence descended in the car as Savannah maneuvered the winding roads uphill, hunching forward in her seat. The hard set of her jaw told him she had no intention of answering his question, even though he knew the answer. With Niles’s death, she stood to gain control of Snap App, millions in life insurance money and a multimillion-dollar home in La Jolla. Quite a haul.

  “It’s right around the next curve.” She swung the wheel and slowed the car. “And I don’t see any cop cars ou
t front.”

  Even if he hadn’t seen pictures of the house before, the yellow crime scene tape stirring in the ocean breeze was a dead giveaway. The white Mediterranean loomed at the end of the cul-de-sac, and Connor knew the Pacific roiled and scrambled over the rocks just beyond and downhill from the house.

  How the hell had Savannah sneaked out of here on foot and walked home?

  She pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. “The walk home wasn’t bad, especially after I kicked off my heels.”

  Before he had a chance to answer, she hopped out of the car and slammed the door. By the time he scrambled from the car and had followed her up the walkway, she was yanking yellow tape from the front door.

  She dangled it in front of her from her fingertips. “Does this mean they plan to come back?”

  “Not necessarily.” He snatched the tape from her hand and crumpled it in his fist. “The cops are not going to clean up a murder scene for you. They leave that chore to you.”

  “I remember.” With her mouth tight, she shoved her key into the lock and pushed open the door.

  Of course, Savannah and her mother had had to take care of the mess when his father shot and killed Manny in their home. Dad had even taken care of that for Georgie, calling in a cleaning crew from San Diego that specialized in crime scene cleanup; blood, brains, tissue—they did it all. What would Savannah and he find here?

  As he stepped over the threshold of the house she used to share with her husband, Connor tilted back his head to take in the vaulted ceiling above the foyer, and squinted into the light. The blue, green and white furnishings that littered the great room looked like a continuation of the ocean and sand at the foot of the cliffs over which the big house loomed. He could see Savannah’s stamp on the room—bright, airy and carefree. What secrets lurked beneath this cheery facade?

  She shot him a look from beneath her dark lashes. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s...beachy.”

  “Appropriately so.” She crossed the room to the staircase and put one foot on the bottom step, resting her hand on the banister. “D-do you want to go upstairs and see it?”

  “Might as well get it over with.” He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out as he took Savannah’s hand and marched up the stairs ahead of her.