The Alibi

Hammond was still watching her, so when her eyes shifted to him, it was a repeat of that first glance across the pavilion. He felt an instantaneous connection, a sudden tug in his gut.

Perkins was still making his argument. “Alex says she wasn’t anywhere near Pettijohn’s suite. You have nothing that places her there. This is only a lame stab in the dark because you’ve got nothing else. While I sympathize with your ability to come up with a viable suspect, I’m not going to allow my client to suffer the consequences.”

“Just a few more questions, Frank,” Smilow said. “Indulge me.”

“Make them brief,” the lawyer said curtly.

Smilow fixed the psychologist with a hard stare. “I’d like to know where Dr. Ladd spent the night.”

“At home.”

Her answer seemed to surprise him. “Your home?”

“I berated myself for not making a reservation on Hilton Head. Once I got there, I considered staying over. I would have liked to, but I called several places and everything was booked. So I drove back to Charleston and slept in my own bed.”

“Alone?”

“I’m not afraid to drive after dark.”

“Did you sleep alone, Dr. Ladd?”

She stared at him coldly.

Frank Perkins said, “Tell him to go to hell, Alex. If you don’t, I will.”

“You heard my solicitor’s advice, Detective.”

Smilow’s mouth slanted upward in what passed for a smile. “While you were at Harbour Town didn’t you speak to anyone?”

“I browsed in one of the art galleries, but I didn’t talk to anyone. I also bought an ice-cream cone at the base of the lighthouse, but it’s a walk-up place and they were very busy. I couldn’t pick out the young woman who served me. She had so many customers that night, I seriously doubt she would remember me, either.”

“So there’s no one who can corroborate that you were there?”

“I suppose not, no.”

“From there you drove home. No stops?”

“No.”

“What time did you get home?”

“The wee hours. I didn’t notice. By then I was very tired and sleepy.”

“I’ve indulged all I’m going to.” Frank Perkins assisted her from her chair politely, but in such a way that brooked no argument from either her or Smilow. “Dr. Ladd deserves an apology for this. And if you so much as breathe her name to the media in connection with this case, you’ll have not only an unsolved murder to contend with, but a staggering lawsuit as well.”

He nudged Alex toward the door, but before everyone could shift positions and make room for their departure, another detective opened the door. He held a folder in his upraised hand. “You asked for this as soon as it was available.”

“Thanks,” Smilow said, reaching for the folder. “How’d it go?”

“Madison’s persnickety. Says he apologizes for the time it took.”

“As long as he was thorough.”

“It’s all in there.”

The detective withdrew. For the benefit of the others, Smilow said, “That detective witnessed the autopsy. This is Madison’s report.”

Steffi crowded up against Smilow as he removed the documents from the envelope. She scanned them along with him.