Her Alibi

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.

She cleared her throat. “How much help do you have on the vineyard?”

“I have a chemist working for me, who drops by a few times a month. I have a couple guys who work the land daily, and I hired a marketing person who’s going to help design the bottles, labels, logos—that kind of stuff.”

Savannah wagged a finger in the air. “Don’t let her choose the name of the winery. I have dibs on that—I mean, since we’re back together and all.”

“Don’t take liberties.”

“How long do you think we need to play kissy-face?” She dropped her gaze and pleated her skirt with restless fingers. A girl could hope.

“Kissy-face? You mean how long should we pretend to be a couple?”

She lifted her shoulders. “Same thing.”

“We’ll play it by ear. Let’s see what the homicide detectives have to say. Let’s see if you’re their prime suspect.” He gripped the steering wheel at the top with both hands, his knuckles blanching.

“Oh, God. Don’t even go there. I don’t want to think about it—any of it.” She tipped her head, resting it against the window.

“Have you tried to remember what happened after you got to Niles’s house?”

“I won’t.” She hadn’t remembered the time before, either.

Connor’s head jerked to the side. “Why so sure?”

“I—I don’t know. That time last night just feels like a black hole. Besides, if I was roofied, I’m not going to remember. I don’t think any victims after they’d been slipped Rohypnol ever remember what happened, do they? It’s usually forensic evidence, rape kit, even CCTV and witnesses that help piece things together and lead to a conviction, not the victim’s testimony.”

“Typically, but why would Niles drug you?” Connor dragged a hand through his hair, tucking one side behind his ear. “He wasn’t after you, was he? Wanting to get back together?”

“No way. He’d already moved on to a new girlfriend.”

“Then why drug you?”

“I’m thinking it wasn’t Niles who drugged me. Maybe somebody slipped something in both our drinks.”

“At the bar?”

She nodded. “This the place?”

“How can you tell? The fishnets in the front or the giant swordfish?”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.” She punched his thigh with her fist and met rock-hard muscle. Being a vintner agreed with Connor—the longer, sun-bleached hair, the casual attire, his more relaxed attitude. The fact that he hadn’t tossed her out on her bum after her outrageous story was a testament to that new attitude.

Although if she were honest with herself, she’d known Connor wouldn’t turn her away. He never had even when she’d deserved it.

He swung the truck into a parking place around the side of the restaurant that fronted the ocean. “Tourists are out in force. That’s the thing with these new restaurants. They do cater to the tourists.”

“Is the food any good?”

“Would I take you out for bad seafood? It’s decent.”

“Maybe we should’ve gone to one of our old haunts with the old local crowd, like the Black Whale.”

“Too risky. Too many direct questions. We need some time to ease into this.”

When he turned off the engine, Savannah slid from the truck, yanking down her skirt as her sandals hit the asphalt.

Connor had come around to the passenger side. “Should’ve waited for me to help you out. The truck sits kinda high.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself falling out of your truck.” Connor might not be a cop anymore, but he hadn’t lost his protective instincts. Thank God.

He took her hand. “It’s showtime.”

She was going to enjoy this role more than most of the ones she played. She squeezed his hand and bumped his shoulder with hers.

He opened the door for her, and she stepped into the restaurant, her breath hitching at the panoramic view of the ocean from the windows across the dining room. “Wow, no wonder this attracts the tourists.”

“Hey there, Connor.” A slinky hostess floated toward them, and Savannah moved in closer to her man, even if it was pretend.

“Hi, Cher. Do you have a table for two? No reservation.”

“You don’t need a reservation here, Connor. We have a no-show in the back, and that table has your name on it.”

“Thanks, Cher.”

As the resourceful Cher led them to the table with Connor’s name on it, she twisted her head over her shoulder and winked at Savannah. “We’re hoping to serve his first bottle of wine here someday soon.”

“I can’t wait for that myself. We’re trying to come up with names for the winery right now.”

Cher’s eyes popped and a little stumble marred her sashay. She recovered nicely and pulled out a chair for Savannah. “Well, let us know when you decide. Enjoy your meal, you two.”

Seated across from Savannah, Connor raised one eyebrow. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

She hunched across the table and grabbed both his hands. “We’re back together. You’re the man I ran to in the middle of the night, knowing you’d take me back.”

The light from the window glimmered in his eyes as he studied every detail of her face. Could he see the truth there? She would always turn to Connor Wells in a crisis because he’d always be there for her.

He raised one of her hands, turned it over and pressed a kiss against the pulse throbbing in her wrist.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The waiter cleared his throat and asked again, “Drinks?”

Savannah tore her gaze away from Connor’s and jerked her hand out of his grasp. The connection between them still sizzled, even under the current circumstances. It would never go away, but this was all still make-believe and she’d kept too many secrets from Connor to ever make this anything more than playacting.

“Since it’s still before noon, how about a mimosa?” She ran a finger down a plastic drink menu. “The pomegranate mimosa, please.”

“It’s one of our most popular. And you, Connor? The usual?”

“That’ll do.”

Maybe nobody at this tourist trap knew Connor enough to ask probing questions, but they knew who he was. Everyone in San Juan Beach had known the Wells family. Her own mother had always told her to cozy up to Connor. The Wells family not only had position, they had money or at least land, which always translated into money.

She’d cozied up to him, but it hadn’t been for power or money—and now she had plenty of the latter, thanks to Niles’s death.

As the waiter walked away, Savannah tapped the side of her water glass. “The usual?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of wine tasting the past few years, and I found one I liked here.” He shrugged. “I’m a creature of habit.”

Savannah cranked her head over her shoulder at the loud voices coming from the bar. “Football game?”

Connor bolted upright in his chair, craning his neck toward the bar. “Not sure why they’d be pointing at us if it were.”

As Savannah’s gaze darted among the faces turned their way, she placed a hand against the fluttering in her belly. Was there news about Niles?

The bartender, Angel Cruz, burst through the low swinging door that led behind the bar and charged into the dining room. “Connor, there’s a fire—at your place.”

Connor jumped from the table, knocking over his glass of water. “The vines?”

“I don’t think so, man.” Angel tapped the cell phone in his hand. “My buddy said it’s a structure.”

“The house? Not the house.” Savannah had tossed her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair.

“It’s not the house, either. Some building on the property between the house and the vineyard.”

“I’ll settle this tab later.” Connor swirled his finger above the table. “Fire department already there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go, dude. Don’t worry about this stuff.”

Connor grabbed her arm and practically dragged her from the restaurant.

When they hit the parking lot, Savannah shook him off. “It sounds like it’s under control, Connor, and thank God it’s not the vines or the house.”

“You don’t understand, Savannah.” He put his lips close to her ear. “The building that’s burning? That’s where I hid the knife.”