The Alibi

It frustrated her that he didn’t commit to telling her. She would like to know the circumstances behind his and Hammond’s virulent dislike for one another. They were entirely different personality types, of course. Smilow’s aloofness repelled people, and unless she was way off base, that was by design. Hammond was charismatic. Close friendships with him were earned, but he was friendly and approachable. Smilow was fastidious and impeccably groomed, while Hammond’s attractiveness was natural and effortless. In college Smilow would have been the one guy in class who aced the exam and ruined the grading curve for everyone else. Hammond’s grades were excellent, too, but he also had been a popular student leader and star athlete. Both were overachievers, but one’s accomplishments were hard-earned, while to the other they came easily.

Steffi could identify more closely with Smilow. She understood and could relate to his resentment of Hammond, a resentment compounded by Hammond’s own attitude toward his advantages. He did not exploit them. Moreover, he rejected them. Spurning his trust fund, he lived on what he earned. His condo was nice, but he could have afforded much better. His only extravagances were his sailboat and his cabin, but he never advertised that he owned either.

He would be much easier to hate if he flaunted his privileges.

It would be interesting, to say nothing of useful, to know the source of the antipathy between him and Smilow. They were on the same side of the law, working toward a common goal, and yet they seemed more disdainful of each other than they were of unredeemable criminals.

“Must be hard,” Smilow said, drawing her out of her musings.

“What?”

“Constantly competing with Hammond on a professional level, but sleeping with him at night. Or is it that competitive edge that makes the affair so exciting?”

For once Steffi was taken completely off guard. She stared at him with mute astonishment.

“You’re wondering how I know?” His smile was so cold it sent chills up her spine. “Process of elimination. He’s the only man around the judicial building who hasn’t boasted of getting there.” He looked pointedly at her lap. “I put two and two together, and your stunned reaction to my lucky guess just confirmed it.”

His smugness was insufferable, but she refused to act angry or upset, which would have pleased him immensely. Instead she kept her features expressionless and her voice cool. “Why so interested in my love life, Smilow? Jealous?”

He actually laughed. “Flirtation doesn’t flatter you, Steffi.”

“Go to hell.”

Unfazed, he continued. “Deductive reasoning is my business. I’m good at it.”

“What do you intend to do with this juicy tidbit of information?”

“Nothing,” he said with a negligent shrug. “It just amuses me that the golden boy has compromised his professional ethics. Is his armor beginning to tarnish? Just a little?”

“Sleeping with a colleague isn’t exactly a hanging offense. As transgressions go, it’s a hand-slapper.”

“True. But for Hammond Cross, it’s practically a mortal sin. Otherwise, why keep it a secret?”

“Well, you can stop your gloating. There’s no longer a secret to keep. The affair is over. True,” she said when he gave her a sharply suspicious look.

“As of when?”

She consulted her wristwatch. “Two hours and eighteen minutes ago.”

“Really? Before or after Mason gave him the case?”

“One had nothing to do with the other,” she said testily.

A corner of his thin lips twitched with a near smile. “You’re sure of that?”

“Positive. You might as well know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Detective. Hammond dumped me. Flat. End of discussion.”

“Why?”

“I got the standard ‘we’re moving in opposing directions’ speech, which usually translates to ‘been there, done th

at, and I’m ready to try a new vacation spot.’ ”

“Hmm. Do you know of any resorts he plans to visit?”

“None. And a woman can usually tell.”

“So can a man.”