Carol Ericson - Her Alibi

“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?”

Connor studied Savannah’s face as she peered into the plastic bag at the bloody knife.

Her big violet eyes widened, and her lips parted. Those eyes, a color he’d never seen before in his life, and the long lashes that framed them gave Savannah a look of innocence—but he knew better.

Who thought to leave a cell phone at home and remove a car’s license plates without something to hide?

Savannah’s bottom lip quivered as she dragged her gaze from the bloody evidence in front of her to his face. “I—I don’t... No!”

She spun away from him, clutching her belly. “I didn’t put that in my car. You found it in my trunk?”

“I found it in the spare tire well.”

“Why were you looking in there?” She glanced at him over her shoulder, her mouth tight as if she blamed him for the presence of the knife.

The knots in his gut tightened. He wanted to trust Savannah, believe her crazy story. God, he loved this woman...once.

“The corner of the cover wasn’t lying flat, so I lifted it. The bag looked out of place. What’s it doing there, Savannah? Is it the murder weapon?”

“How do I know?” She lifted her shoulders to her ears and turned to face him. “I’m telling you, Connor, I blacked out when I got to Niles’s place.”

“The point being, you could’ve got into an argument with him, continued your argument from the bar even and...”

“Stabbed him multiple times in the back?” She shook her head back and forth.

“Maybe it was self-defense.” He tied the handles of the bag together and placed it on the floor by the front door—not that he could leave it there. “Maybe the fight got physical, and he attacked you with a knife. You got it away from him and struck back.”

“That’s insane, Connor. I didn’t have any...” She stopped and touched the back of her head with her fingertips.

“Any what? What’s wrong?”

“I have a bump on my head. I was going to say I didn’t have any injuries, but I have this lump on the back of my skull and these cuts on my hand.”

His feet had been rooted to the floor ever since he’d entered with the knife and a terrible dread in his gut. Now a new urgency propelled him forward.

He took Savannah by the shoulders. “Turn around.”

She presented her back to him, and a silky fall of dark hair rippled across her shoulders.

He nestled his fingers in the strands of her hair and slid them up to her scalp.

She winced and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Here?” He traced a large, hard knot on Savannah’s head.

“Ouch. That’s the spot.”

“You didn’t have that before you woke up this morning?”

“No. I don’t think the skin is broken, and I didn’t notice any blood in my hair.”

“He could’ve pushed you, and you fell back against something.”

“Maybe that’s why I blacked out. Oh, Connor.” Dipping her head, she pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what happened last night.”

His hands dropped to her shoulders again and he massaged his thumbs between her shoulder blades. “We’re going to figure it out, Savannah.”

“And what if we figure out I’m responsible for Niles’s death?”

He turned her around to face him and kissed her forehead. “We’ll deal with it.”

“And what about that?” She pointed a slightly trembling finger at the bag by the door.

“We should get it tested for blood and fingerprints.”

She jerked back from him. “Are you crazy?”

“I thought you wanted to find out who killed Niles.” He folded his arms and dug his fingers into his biceps to keep from touching Savannah again. That never seemed to end well for him.

“Yes, but how are we going to ID blood and prints from the knife without taking it to the police?” She sliced a hand through the air. “I’m not doing that, Connor.”

“I think I can work around that.”

“Connections?”

“Maybe a few.” His father had been police chief in this town for over twenty years, before the sheriff’s department took over and swallowed up the San Juan Beach PD. “In the meantime...”

“In the meantime, get rid of it.”

“I’ll find a place.” He aimed his foot at the suitcase he’d dragged in with the knife. “Why don’t you unpack and get ready for our first appearance?”

“Our first appearance where?” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

“In public. If you showed up on my doorstep last night, we’d be out and about by now...or at least we should be to prove you’re here.”

“Makes sense.” She tossed her wound-up hair over her shoulder. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Like you pointed out earlier, I owe you for what you and your mom did for my dad. You never let me repay you for that.”

“Because even though Mom and I lied...and said Chief Wells killed my stepfather in self-defense, it still led to your dad’s death.”

Connor gritted his teeth. “Self-defense or not, it would’ve ended for Dad that way. Your stepfather’s associates were not going to let anyone get away with killing Manny Edmonds without payback.”

“My mom was always grateful for...what your father did.”

“My dad would’ve done anything for your mom.” Apparently it ran in the Wellses’ blood to do anything for the Martell women. Dad’s devotion to Savannah’s mother had broken up his marriage to Mom and ended his life. And Connor’s own devotion to Savannah had strained his relationship with his mother. How would this latest association end?

“Brunch?”

“What?” Connor ran a hand down the side of his face.

“I’m going to change while you get rid of that knife. Are we having brunch or lunch out to show my presence in San Juan Beach?”

Savannah sure seemed anxious to dispose of what was probably the murder weapon. “I’m not going to dump it.”

“Okay, whatever.” She strode past him and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, yanking it up. “I don’t want to know what you do with it.”

“Shouldn’t we take a look on TV or the computer to see if Niles’s body has been found yet?”