Carol Ericson - Her Alibi

She held up one hand in front of her face. “I don’t want to know that, either. Better to feign surprise when the cops come calling.”

With a toss of her head, she tipped back her bag and dragged it across the floor to the hallway.

As she veered toward the guest room on the right, he called out, “Master suite. We’re back together, remember?”

Without a word or backward glance, she changed course and wheeled her bag into his bedroom.

He bent over and snatched up the plastic grocery bag by one handle. As it dangled from his fingertips, he stared at the spot where Savannah had disappeared into his bedroom.

He’d wanted Savannah back in his life for so long and now she was here in the flesh—needing him, sharing his bedroom, willing to engage in a pretend romance with him.

Turning, he grabbed the front door handle. How could this possibly go wrong?

* * *

SAVANNAH SMOOTHED HER hands across the cotton skirt that hit her midthigh. How many more ways could she feel guilty for dragging Connor into her mess?

Mom had dragged Connor’s father into her messes, and here she was, carrying on the famous Martell tradition. She and Mom had lied about the night her stepfather was shot and killed, all right, but it wasn’t for the benefit of Chief Wells.

Savannah could never tell Connor the truth about that night; he would never look at her the same way again. He’d blame her for his father’s death. And because she had to keep this secret from him, they could never have a relationship—not a real one.

When she heard the front door open, she grabbed her purse from Connor’s bed, and swung it by her side as she marched into the living room. “Ready?”

He spread his arms wide and his gray T-shirt stretched across his chiseled chest. “As long as it’s casual.”

“Is there anything but casual in San Juan Beach?”

“You haven’t been here for a while. A couple nice places popped up along the strand, still casual dress, though.”

The cell phone that had been charging on Connor’s kitchen counter dinged, indicating a new text message. She swallowed. “I’d better see who that is.”

Connor nodded.

She slid the phone across the smooth granite surface and tapped the incoming message. The words on the screen screamed at her. She read them aloud for Connor’s benefit. “‘Have you heard? Call me.’”

“Who’s it from?”

“It’s from Dee Dee Rodriguez. She’s Niles’s admin assistant at the office.”

“You’d better call her.”

“So it starts.” She went to her contacts and called Dee Dee’s number.

Dee Dee didn’t even wait for the first ring to end. “Savannah, have you heard about Niles?”

“No. What happened? What’s wrong?”

“He’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?” She lifted her eyebrows at Connor. Did she sound convincing? She put the phone on speaker, so he could hear everything, steer her in the right direction.

“Niles is dead, Savannah. Murdered.”

“Murdered? Is this a joke, Dee? It’s not funny.” Feign disbelief.

Connor nodded.

“Would I joke about someone’s murder?”

“I—I don’t believe you. Why haven’t I heard anything?”

“I just found out. The police are here.” She lowered her voice. “They were asking about you.”

Savannah licked her lips, her gaze darting to Connor’s face. “What happened, Dee? Who found him? I was just with him last night.”

“All I know is that his housekeeper found him this morning. I don’t know how he died. If...if you saw him last night, it must’ve happened after that, or this morning before the housekeeper arrived.”

“Oh, my God. This is terrible. I—I’m going to turn on the news or look it up on my computer.”

“I’m not sure the news is out there yet. Where are you, Savannah? I’m sure the police are gonna head to your place.”

“Probably, although Tiffany is closer to Niles than I am now—in every way, including physically. I’m not even in San Diego. I went south to San Juan Beach.”

“Oh, my God. Are you with that hottie from the picture you showed me?”

Heat clawed up Savannah’s chest and she turned away from Connor. “Yeah, I’m down here with Connor.”

“Lucky girl, unlucky Niles. Stay safe. Maybe there’s some kind of hit out on both of you.”

Savannah chewed her bottom lip. If that had been the case, she’d be dead, too. “I will. If the cops ask you about me again, you can tell them I’m in San Juan and would be happy to talk with them.”

“I will. It’s gonna be crazy at the office.”

“I can’t imagine anyone’s going to get any work done, so why don’t you all just take the rest of the day off?”

“Well, we can’t just... Oh, right. You’re the boss now, aren’t you?”

“Tell everyone there to take a mental health day.”

“Will do.”

Savannah ended the call and spun around. “How did I sound?”

“Convincing. Now, get on your laptop like you said you would.”

She dropped her purse on the floor where she stood and returned to the bedroom. She pulled her laptop from a zippered pouch on the side of her suitcase and brought it into the kitchen.

As Connor hovered over her shoulder, she powered on the computer and did a search for Niles Wedgewood. Her hand trembled as she clicked on the first link that popped up. “Local news outlet already has the story, but no specifics.”

Connor leaned in closer, his warm breath stirring her hair. “Just a snippet—body believed to be that of Niles Wedgewood, cofounder and CEO of Snap App, discovered in his ocean-side mansion in La Jolla. No further details at this time.”

“The police are going to call me, aren’t they?”

“Homicide detectives. They’ll probably want to interview you face-to-face, especially once they find out you were the last person to see him alive.”

“I’ll be ready.” She snapped down the lid of her laptop and rubbed her hands together. “Now, let’s go eat and make my presence known in SJB.”

Savannah bounced along in the passenger seat of Connor’s truck as he pulled onto the road from the property he’d inherited from his father. She rolled down the window and inhaled the scent of the air sweetened by grapevines.

“I think I can detect the aroma of wine already.”

“This time next year, I hope to have my first harvest.”

She tapped on the window. “I didn’t notice a name for the winery. Have you thought of one yet?”

“I suppose the easiest choice would be San Juan Beach Winery.”

“That’s a mouthful and kind of boring.” She drummed her fingers on her knee. “I’ll think of something clever.”

“Did you think of Snap App?”

“I did. Catchy, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He turned the truck west toward the coast. “I’ll take you to one of the newer places if you’re up for seafood. There’s a steak place, too, and they both do a breakfast or brunch or maybe even lunch.”

“Seafood. I’m trying to rid my diet of red meat.”

“Ethical or health?”

“I do love animals, but it’s for health reasons.”

He gave her a quick glance up and down. “You? You’re as fit as you were in high school, when you were a soccer star.”

“Soccer star?” she snorted. “Our team was awful.”

“Yeah, but you were the best one on that awful team.” He nudged her shoulder with the heel of his hand.

“You always were biased.”

“I know. In my eyes, you could do no wrong—even when you did wrong.”

Savannah tucked her hands beneath her thighs and sealed her lips. She’d done more wrong than Connor had known about, but why dredge up old skeletons? The new ones were keeping her busy enough.