The Alibi Read Free Page A

heard from the
    ME.?"
    "On his way."
    The answer registered with Smilow, but he was intently
    gazing at the dead man. Until he saw it with his
    own eyes, he had been unable to believe that the reported
    murder victim was none other than Lute Pettijohn.
    A local celebrity of sorts, a man of renown,
    Pettijohn was, among other things, CEO of the development
    company that had converted the derelict
    cotton warehouse into the spectacular new Charles
    Towne Plaza.
    He had also been Rory Smilow's brother-in-law.
     
    chapter 2
     
    she said, "thank you."
    Hammond replied, "You're welcome."
    "It was becoming a sticky situation."
    "I'm just glad that my ruse worked. If it hadn't, I'd
    have three of the few and the proud after me."
    "I commend your bravery."
    "Or stupidity. They could have whipped my ass."
    She smiled at that, and when she did, Hammond
    was doubly glad he had acted on his idiotic, chivalrous
    impulse to rescue her. He had been attracted to
    her the moment he spotted her, but seeing her from
    across the dance floor was nothing compared to the
    up-close and unrestricted view. She averted her eyes
    from his intense stare to gaze at a nonspecific point
    beyond his shoulder. She was cool under pressure.
    No doubt of that.
    "What about your friend?" she asked.
    "My friend?"
    "Mr. Blanchard. Norm, wasn't it?"
    "Oh," he said, laughing softly. "Never heard of
    him."
     
    "Yep, and I have no idea where the name came
    from. It just popped into my head."
    "Very creative."
    "I had to say something plausible. Something to
    make it look like we were together. Familiar. Something
    that would, at the very least, get you out on the
    dance floor with me."
    "You could have simply asked me to dance."
    "Yeah, but that would have been boring. It also
    would have left an opening for you to turn me down."
    "Well, thank you again."
    "You're welcome again." He shuffled her around
    another couple. "Are you from around here?"
    "Not originally."
    "Southern accent."
    "I grew up in Tennessee," she said. "Near
    Nashville."
    "Nice area."
    "Yes."
    "Pretty terrain."
    "Hmm."
    "Good music, too."
    Brilliant conversation, Cross, he thought. Scintillating.
    She didn't even honor the last inane statement
    with a response, and he didn't blame her. If he kept
    this up, she'd be out of here before the song ended.
    He maneuvered them around another couple who
    were executing an intricate turn, then, in a deadpan
    voice, he asked the lamest of all lame pick-up lines.
    "Do you come here often?"
    She caught the joke and smiled the smile that
    might reduce him to a total fool if he wasn't careful.
    "Actually, I haven't been to a fair like this since I was
    a teenager."
    "Me, too. I remember going to one with some buddies.
    We must've been about fifteen and were on a
    quest to buy beer."
    "Any success?"
    "None."
    "That was your last one?"
    "No. I went to another with a date. I took her into
    the House of Fright specifically for the purpose of
    making out."
    "And how successful was that?"
    "It went about like the attempt to buy beer. God
    knows I tried. But I always seemed to be with the one
    girl who ..." His voice trailed off when he felt her
    tense up.
    "They don't give up easily, do they?"
    Sure enough, the trio of troopers were standing
    just beyond the edge of the dance floor, nursing fresh
    beers and glowering at them.
    "Well, if they were quick to surrender, our national
    security would be at risk." Giving the young men a
    smug smile, he tightened his arm around her waist
    and waltzed past them.
    "You don't have to protect me," she said. "I could
    have handled the situation myself."
    "I'm sure you could have. Fending off unwanted
    male attention is a skill every attractive woman must acquire. But you're also a lady who was reluctant to
    cause a scene."
    She gazed up at him. "Very perceptive."
    "So, since it's a done deal, we had just as well
    enjoy the dance, hadn't we?"
    "I suppose."
    But agreeing to continue the dance didn't reduce
    her tension. She wasn't