Finally, in a very quiet voice, Perkins asked to see the clipping. She passed it to him, but she kept her eyes on Smilow, refusing to submit to his accusatory gaze. “Well?”
“Well, what, Detective?”
“You lied to us, didn’t you, Dr. Ladd?”
“You don’t have to answer,” Frank Perkins told her.
“Where were you late Saturday afternoon and evening?”
“Don’t answer, Alex,” her attorney instructed again.
“But I would like to, Frank.”
“I strongly urge you not to say anything.”
“There’s no harm in my answering.” Heedless of his advice, she said, “I had planned to go to Hilton Head, but at the last minute I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Caprice. I went instead to a fair outside of Beaufort.”
“A fair?”
“A carnival, which can be easily checked out, Mr. Smilow. I’m certain it was advertised. It was a large event. That’s where I went after leaving Charleston.”
“Can anyone vouch for that?”
“I doubt it. There were hundreds of people there. It’s unlikely anyone would remember me.”
“Sort of like that ice-cream scooper on Hilton Head.”
Smilow didn’t seem to appreciate Steffi Mundell’s remark any more than Alex did. They both shot her an angry look before Smilow continued. “If you saw advertisements for the fair, you could be making this up, couldn’t you?”
“I suppose I could, but I’m not.”
“Why should we believe this when we’ve already caught you in one lie?”
“It doesn’t make any difference where I was. I’ve told you that I didn’t even know Lute Pettijohn. I certainly know nothing about his murder.”
“She didn’t even know the method by which he died,” Frank Perkins interjected.
“Yes, we all remember your client’s stunned reaction t
o the fact that Pettijohn was shot.”
Alex burned under Smilow’s sardonic gaze, but she maintained her composure. “I left Charleston with every intention of going to Hilton Head. When I came upon the fair, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to stop there instead.”
“If it was so innocent, why did you lie about it?”
First for my own protection. Then to protect Hammond Cross.
If they wanted the truth, that was it. But Hammond Cross’s obligation for truth-telling was more binding than hers, and he had maintained his silence. Upset following her encounter with Bobby last night, she had lain awake thinking about her predicament.
After torturous deliberation, she had concluded that if she could keep Bobby at arm’s length, she would be all right. No connection could be made between her and Pettijohn. As long as Hammond believed in her innocence, her whereabouts on Saturday night would remain their secret, because he would think it irrelevant.
But if ever he was convinced of her guilt, it would be his obligation as a prosecutor…
She didn’t allow herself to think about that. For now, she would continue cooperating with Smilow until, she hoped, he gave up on her having any involvement and redirected his investigation.