The Alibi (43 page)

threw this at you," she said of her shapely body. "I offered

you no-strings-attached, mindless boffing, and

you turned me down. So either you've gone gay,

you're hung up on another woman, or I've lost all my

sex appeal and might just as well kill myself tonight.

Now which is it?"

"Well, I haven't gone gay, and you haven't lost all

your sex appeal."

She didn't make any of the triumphant exclamations

she was entitled to. No "I knew it!" No "You

can't fool me, Hammond Cross!" None of that.

Instead she responded to his solemnity, saying quietly,

"I thought so. When did you meet her?"

"Recently."

"A new armpiece? Or is she special?"

Hammond stared at her a moment, debating

whether or not to try lying. Before his affair with

Steffi, he had dated many women but never stayed

with one for long. Around Charleston, he was known

as an eligible bachelor with family money and plenty

of promise. Scores of single women boldly sought his

company. Potential mothers-in-law considered him

an excellent catch.

His own mother was constantly arranging introductions

to her friends' daughters and nieces. "She's

a lovely young woman from a wonderful family."

"Her people are from Georgia. They're into timber.

Or maybe it's tires. Something like that." "She's simply

a precious girl. I think you two would have a lot

in common." A flip answer would probably convince

Davee that this amounted to nothing more than that.

But Davee was his oldest friend, and he was sick

of lies and lying. He lowered himself to the edge of

the chaise and clasped his hands between his spread

knees. His shoulders slumped forward slightly.

"Jesus," she said as she picked up her drink. "Is it

as bad as all that?"

"She's not an armpiece. About the other, whether

or not she could be special, I don't know."

"Too soon to tell?"

"Too complicated."

"She's married?"

"No."

"Then why is it complicated?"

"More than complicated. Impossible."

"I don't understand."

"I can't talk about it, Davee." He spoke more

sharply than he had intended, but his tone must have

alerted her to how sensitive the subject was.

In any case, she backed down. "Okay. But if you

need a friend ..."

"Thanks." He reached for her hand, pushed back

the bangles, and kissed the inside of her wrist. Then,

as his finger absently traced the pattern etched into

one of the bracelets, he asked, "What gave me

away?"

"The way you're acting."

He dropped her hand. "How am I acting?"

"Like there's a line for mandatory castration and

you're next." She moved to the cart across the room

and mixed a fresh drink. "The minute I saw you at

the funeral yesterday I knew something was wrong.

Career-wise--thanks in part to me--things are going

great for you. So I figured you were suffering from a

heart problem."

"It bothers me that I'm so transparent."

"Relax. Probably no one else has noticed. Besides

knowing you so well, I recognize the symptoms. That

particular brand of misery can only spell lowe."

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't believe it."

"Hmm."

"You never told me."

"It ended badly. I was just coming off of it that

summer we were in the wedding together. A wedding,"

she snorted. "Just the environment I needed to

make me thoroughly miserable. That's why I acted

like such a royal bitch at all the prenuptial parties.

That's also why I needed a friend that night. A very

intimate friend," she said with a soft smile, which he

returned. "Our little escapade in the swimming pool

restored my self-confidence."

"Glad to have been of service."

"You're damn right you were."

Gradually Hammond's smile receded. "I never

would have guessed, Davee. You covered it well.

What happened?"

"We met at the university. He was a preacher's

kid. Can you believe it? Me with a preacher's kid. He

was a real gentleman. Smart. Sensitive. Didn't treat

me like a tramp, and, hard as you may find this to believe,

I didn't act like one with him."

She finished her drink and poured another. "But I

had, of course. By the time I met him, I had whored

my way across campus, through one dormitory, up one side of fraternity row and down the other. I'd

even had a fling with one of my instructors.

"Miraculously he was blissfully unaware of my

reputation. Some of my former partners thought it

would be a great joke to tell him." She moved to the

window and stared through the louvers of the shutters.

"He was an excellent student. Dean's list. Very

straight. He didn't party much. For all those reasons,

he wasn't well liked. The guys enjoyed humiliating

him, figured it was his comeuppance for being so superior.

They didn't spare a single detail. They even had some pictures from a party where I was one of

the favors.

"When he confronted me with all they'd told him,

I was devastated that he knew the truth about me. I

pleaded with him to forgive me. To try and understand.

To believe that I had changed when I met him.

But he refused even to listen." She leaned forward,

resting her forehead on the shutter. "That same night,

to spite me, he slept with another girl. And she got

pregnant."

She remained so still that even her bracelets didn't

jangle. "From a moral and religious standpoint, abortion

was out of the question. Nor would it ever have

occurred to him to do other than what was right. So

he married the girl. As strange as it may seem, Hammond,

that's when I loved him most. I had so wanted

to have his children."

He waited until he was certain that she was finished,

until she moved again, and that was to raise her

glass to her lips. "Have you kept track of him?"

"Yes."

"Is he still married?"

"No."

"Do you ever see him?"

She turned away from the window and looked at

him. "Yesterday. At Lute's funeral. He was seated

near the back with Steffi Mundell. He's still not very

well liked."

When Hammond pulled all the clues together, his

jaw dropped open. Soundlessly his lips formed the

name "Rory Smilow?

She gave a wry laugh. "There's no accounting for

taste, is there?"

Hammond pushed his hand up through his hair.

"No wonder he hated Lute so much. First for his sister.

Then you."

"Well, actually it was the other way around. Lute's

marriage to Margaret didn't come until years later. I

remember when Rory moved to Charleston to accept

the job with the police department. I read about it in

the newspaper. I wanted to contact him then, but my

pride wouldn't let me.

"The woman he married had died giving birth to

their stillborn baby." She paused to reflect on the

irony of that. "His parents were dead, so responsibility

for Margaret had fallen on him. He moved her

here with him. She got a clerical job in the courthouse.

County records, plats, things like that. That's

where she met Lute. It wouldn't surprise me if the romance

developed after she did him a favor, like fudging

a property line or something."

"It wouldn't surprise me, either," Hammond remarked.

"I've heard the marriage was a nightmare."

"Margaret was emotionally fragile. She was certainly

no match for a bastard like Lute." She finished

her drink. "On occasion I had got good and

tanked, swallowed my pride, and accidentally-on-purpose

put myself in Rory's path. He always looked

right through me, as though we'd never known one

another. That hurt, Hammond. It also pissed me off.

"So after Margaret's suicide, I went after Lute and didn't stop phasing him until he married me. Rory

had broken my heart. So I tried to break his by marrying

the man he most despised." She added ruefully,

"Revenge has a way of kicking the avenger in the ass,

doesn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Davee."

"Ah, well, don't be," she said with a breeziness

that Hammond knew was false. "I've still got my

looks. This," she said, holding up her highball glass,

"didn't destroy Mama's beauty. She's as gorgeous as

ever, so I'm counting on good genes to ward off the

ill effects of demon alcohol. I've got lots of money.

As soon as Lute's will is probated, I'll have lots

more. Speaking of which ..."

She walked to an antique desk and opened the

slender lap drawer. "This fucking stroll down memory

lane almost made me forget. I found this while

going through some papers in Lute's desk. It's in his

handwriting." She handed him a pale green Post-It

note. "That's last Saturday's date, isn't it?"

Hammond's vision blurred around the notation.

"Lute wrote down your name and a five o'clock

time. Looks to me like an appointment. Which I'm

sure you would rather no one knew about."

He looked across at her. "It's not what you think."

She laughed. "Hammond, honey, I'd sooner believe

in cellulite-reducing creams than I would believe

you capable of committing murder. I don't

know what it signifies and don't want to know. I just

thought you should have it."

He stared at the second notation on the small

square of paper. "He wrote down another time. Six

o'clock. No name. Any ideas?"

"None. There's nothing on his official day planner

about any appointments on Saturday, with you or

anyone else."

Obviously Lute had intended to meet with someone

else that afternoon, following his appointment

with him. Who? he wondered. Thoughtfully, he

folded the small piece of paper and put it in his

pocket. "Rightfully, you should have given this to

Smilow."

"When have you ever known me to do the right

thing?" Her mischievous smile turned wistful. "I

learned the hard way that it's a waste of time to try

and hurt Rory. I don't believe he can be hurt." Then

her smile disappeared altogether. "But I don't feel

compelled to do him any favors, either."

CHAPTER

25

He was here with me last night." Ellen Rogers had

to shout to make herself heard above the music. "We

sat at that table for hours and ordered several rounds

of drinks. You must remember."

The bartender, a hunky young man with a sleek

ponytail and a silver hoop in his eyebrow, looked her

over in a way that said she was remarkably forgettable.

"I see lots of people. Night after night. I don't

remember all their faces. They sorta run together in

my head, you know?"

A leggy blonde in a tight black dress undulated

onto the neighboring barstool. The bartender reached

across Ellen to light the blonde's cigarette. "What are

you having?"

"What's good?"

He propped his elbows on the bar and leaned

closer to her. "That all depends on what you're after."

"Excuse me," Ellen interrupted. She wound up

having to tap the bartender on the shoulder to regain

his attention. "If he comes back--the guy I was with

last night--call me. Okay?"

With little hope it would do any good, she pushed

a slip of paper toward him. "Here's the number of my

hotel."

"Okay."

She watched him pocket the telephone number,

knowing that his dry cleaner would probably find it

in a couple of days. She had entered the club with the

proud, purposeful stride of a crusader. She was a

woman on a mission.

This morning, after the initial shock had worn off

and she'd had time to pull herself together, she had

determined to track down the lying son of a bitch and

turn him over to the police.

When darkness fell, she had set out with the intention

of canvassing every nightclub in Charleston if

that's what it took to find and expose him. This character

had hustling down to an art. Looking back, she

realized that he had been too smooth for her to have

been his first victim. Nor would she be his last. Feeling

heady and confident after last night's success, her

seducer would be on the prowl again tonight.

But now as she left the club, her zeal was already

on the wane. She acknowledged how foolhardy it

was to be traipsing around Charleston looking for a

liar and thief she knew only as Eddie, which in all

likelihood was an assumed name.

The new patent leather pumps she had bought especially

for this vacation trip were pinching her toes,

reducing her march to a hobble. She was hungry, but

each time she had tried to eat today, her stomach had

grown queasy from last night's liquor consumption

and this morning's self-loathing.

Not that she could afford to eat at any decent

restaurants, she reminded herself sourly. She had notified

the credit card companies of the theft, but it

would be days before she received replacement