Dan cleared his throat. “The pawnshop was most likely robbed sometime between three and four this morning. Sam claims he was in bed at that time.”
Serena met his eyes steadily. “He was. And I was with him from about midnight to just before dawn. He didn’t leave the guest house and he did not rob the pawnshop.”
Looking suddenly uncomfortable, Dan shuffled papers on his desk. “Er—”
“Look at me, Dan Meadows,” Serena ordered, sounding to Sam rather amusingly like her mother. “Do you really think I would lie to protect someone who could be involved in a crime?”
He gave a heavy sigh. “No. If you say he was with you, then I have no choice but to believe you.”
“Exactly. I’ve never lied to you before, and I’m not doing so now. Sam wasn’t involved—and I’m frankly amazed that you ever had any doubts about that.”
Dan scowled. “Well, what was I supposed to think when I found the cap I gave him under a pile of evidence?”
“If you’d used your head, you’d have realized that someone was trying to falsely implicate him—first with an anonymous phone call and now with planted evidence.”
“You make that sound like a perfectly reasonable conclusion to jump to.”
“It’s so obvious.” Waving a hand to dismiss any other possibility, Serena turned to Sam. “When did you lose the cap?”
“Probably when I jumped out of the way of that SUV on Main Street yesterday. I’m pretty sure I was wearing the cap before, but I don’t remember seeing it afterward.”
“So when Red helped you into his truck and brought you home, the cap was left lying on the sidewalk.”
“Apparently.”
“So anyone could have picked it up and carried it with them into the pawnshop during the night.”
He nodded.
“Do you remember anyone who witnessed the incident, other than Red?”
He frowned. “Yeah. Delbert Farley was there. I was actually on my way across the street to speak to him when I heard the SUV.”
When Serena’s eyes widened, he held up a admonitory hand. As much as he disliked Farley, he was reluctant to cast aspersions without evidence—unlike whoever was trying to implicate him. “As you just pointed out, anyone could have found the cap.”
But Serena had whirled to face Dan again. “How closely have you looked at Farley? What are the odds he’s involved in those break-ins?”
“You think that possibility hasn’t occurred to me?” Dan was beginning to sound rather peevish. And then he rubbed his temple. “I’ll look again.”
“I think you should. And now that we’ve cleared up any doubt of Sam’s innocence,” she added firmly, “there’s something else we need to discuss.”
Dan glanced at his watch. “You’ll have to make it quick. I’ve got an arson and a break-in to investigate—and those on top of the workload left over from yesterday.”
“This isn’t going to make your day any better,” Sam predicted resignedly.
Dan muttered what might have been a curse beneath his breath. “Am I going to need a cup of coffee for this?”
“You might well need a stiff drink for this,” Sam replied.
Dan groaned and punched a button on his desk intercom. “Hazel, do we have any fresh coffee out there?”
“Just made a pot. How many cups do you need?”
“Three,” he replied when Serena and Sam nodded in response to his questioning look. And then he leaned back in his chair, drew an exaggeratedly deep breath and said, “Okay. Let me have it.”
Serena was exhausted by the time she prepared for bed that evening. It had been a very long day after a near-sleepless night. Not that she lamented the lack of sleep. She knew she should be castigating herself for giving in to her hormones last night—but she couldn’t seem to work up any genuine regret. Last night had been one of the more memorable experiences of her life. How could she regret that?
She stepped to her bedroom window, looking out at the guest house. There were no lights burning in the windows. Maybe Sam was getting some sleep. It had been a very long day for him, too.