The Stranger In Room 205 (Hot off the Press! 1)

The bag held the cap Dan had given Sam. “Where did you get that?”

Dan’s expression was grim when he answered. “It was found under a counter in the pawnshop this morning, beside a couple of items the thief apparently dropped on his way out.”

Sam was shaking his head before Dan even finished speaking. “Uh-uh. No way. I wasn’t there, Dan.”

The chief only looked at him, his stern face unrevealing.

“Surely you don’t believe I had anything to do with the pawnshop robbery.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Sam, I’m not so sure what to believe about you right now. There are too many things about you that just don’t add up. Now you’ve been linked to two burglaries. Sure, the anonymous call seemed suspicious, but now—well, this is the cap I gave you.”

“It’s my cap,” Sam conceded, “but I wasn’t wearing it last night.”

“When was the last time you remember seeing it?”

Sam tried to think. So much had happened during the past twenty-four hours. “Yesterday afternoon. I was wearing it after work.”

“You visited the pawnshop?”

“No. I stopped by the library for a couple hours, then just walked around downtown for a while. Then the SUV almost hit me and I…” He frowned. “It must have fallen off then.”

“Yes, I heard about that. Red Tucker’s convinced someone tried to kill you yesterday.”

“Red has a vivid imagination,” Sam reminded Dan as he tried to remember whether he’d seen the cap after diving out of the vehicle’s path. Things had gotten pretty hectic then—Red had rushed up to him, then taken him home, there’d been the tell-all discussion with Serena and then the rest of the night. Was it any wonder the cap had been the last thing on his mind?

“We’ll talk about that near miss in a minute. Right now, I’d like to know where you were around four this morning.”

In paradise, Sam could have answered, but what he said was, “I was in bed.”

“And there’s no way you can prove that, I suppose.”

“Actually, there is,” Serena said from the doorway. “I was with him.”

Chapter Fourteen

Suppressing a sigh, Sam turned in his chair to look at Serena. Since it was well before the time when they’d agreed to meet here, he could only assume that someone—probably Marjorie—had called her. And now she was here, a combative set to her jaw, a gleam of temper in her eyes as she glared at Dan. He had a feeling that all hell was about to break loose in the chief’s office.

Dan must have thought he’d misunderstood Serena’s words. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t yell at Hazel for not announcing me—I told her you were expecting me.” Serena walked briskly into the room, looking every inch the lawyer in her emerald green business suit, her hair pinned into a twist at the back of her head. “What’s going on here, Dan? Why did two uniformed officers pick Sam up at the diner? Couldn’t whatever you wanted to talk to him about have waited until after he finished his shift to save him from the possible embarrassment of gossip and speculation?”

“My reasons are between me and Sam—unless you’re here as his counsel?”

“Does he need an attorney?” she asked coolly.

“Dan thinks he has evidence that I robbed the pawnshop last night,” Sam informed her. “The cap he gave me was found under a counter there this morning.”

“Nonsense.” Serena sank gracefully into the chair beside Sam’s. “Dan’s not stupid enough to believe you’d pull a stunt like that, no matter what circumstantial evidence he found.”

Dan scowled. “Damn it, Serena.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I was merely stating my confidence in your intelligence. I’m sure you won’t do or say anything to change my opinion.”

“This is the second break-in in two days Sam’s been connected to,” he argued. “I would really lack intelligence—not to mention professional competence—if I failed to follow up on that.”

“The only connection Sam had to the first break-in was an accusa

tory phone call from someone who wouldn’t even give you a name. This time you have a cap, but Sam has an alibi—me.”