No Alibi. Valerie Hansen

No Alibi - Valerie  Hansen


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back?”

      “I saw the police car driving this way.”

      “What made you think it was headed out here?”

      “Gut feelings.” Smith raked his fingers through his hair. “I just took a chance, okay? After everything else that’s happened today it was a reasonable conclusion.”

      She seemed to accept that explanation, yet Smith could tell she was not totally convinced that he needed to be there. “What do I have to do to make you believe you’re in danger?” he asked.

      “There’s no need to worry about me,” Julie Ann replied. “I can take care of myself.”

      “Oh? It doesn’t look like it to me.”

      The gangly deputy agreed. “That’s what I was tellin’ her when you drove up. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.” He touched the brim of his hat in parting. “Well, there’s nothing more I can do here. If you see anybody who looks funny, you give us another call, ma’am.”

      Smith stepped aside to let Boyd pass, then rejoined Julie Ann. “I want to know everything. Tell me what happened.” When she turned slightly and he saw that she was wearing a sidearm in an old leather holster, he pointed and said exactly what he was thinking. “Good grief, woman. Where did you get that?”

      “It was my grandpa’s.” Her hand rested on the ivory grip but she gave no indication that she was going to draw the pistol to show it to him.

      “And that’s why you think you’ll be safe?” Smith huffed in disparagement. “You’re more likely to hurt yourself with that thing.”

      “Grandpa Willis taught me how to shoot. I know what I’m doing.”

      “Suppose somebody takes it away from you and turns the tables? What then?”

      She scowled. “You’re just full of wonderful ideas, aren’t you?”

      “I’m being sensible. You can’t go around like Annie Oakley. Haven’t you ever heard of Mace or a Taser gun?”

      “Sure, I have. I just don’t happen to have either in my closet and I did have this gun. Under the circumstances, it seemed like a good idea to get it out and load it.”

      Smith gestured toward the porch swing and spoke as calmly as he could. “Will you please sit down and talk to me? I really would like to know what happened.”

      When she hesitated, he added a second “Please?”

      “All right. As soon as I let Andy and Bubbles out so they don’t bark themselves hoarse or beat down the door. If Andy thinks you’re okay, we’ll talk.”

      Her attitude was off-putting. “Then I sure hope he likes me because I intend to hang around until I hear your whole story.”

      To Smith’s relief, Julie Ann didn’t just fling open the front door and let her mammoth dog charge out to attack. She spoke to Andy calmly, then put one hand on his collar and escorted him to meet her guest while the much smaller mutt ran in rapid circles on the porch, panting excitedly with its nose to the ground as if hot on the trail of a wild rabbit.

      Andy eased up to Smith, sniffed his shoes and pants legs, then ducked his broad, black head under the man’s hand as if greeting a trustworthy old friend.

      Wiggling his fingers slightly, Smith scratched the dog’s velvety ears. “I think I get to stay.”

      “Looks like it,” Julie Ann said with a surprised expression.

      “You didn’t think we’d get along?”

      “Actually, no. Andy was abused by his former owner. He doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

      “I see. Well, since your excuse for ordering me to leave is gone, now what?”

      “We talk.” Adjusting the holster for comfort, she chose a seat at one end of the hanging porch swing and gestured to the empty place. “Since you’re already here, I suppose I may as well go ahead and fill you in on the details. Then we can check around back for clues.”

      “Boyd didn’t look?”

      She shook her head slowly and pressed her lips into a thin line. “Nope. I guess he assumed I was just a panic-stricken woman who imagined a prowler because I was too high-strung.”

      “Did you actually see anyone?”

      “No. But Andy was sure there was someone on the back porch.”

      “Could he have been mistaken?”

      Shivers ran up Smith’s neck when she answered, “Not unless doorknobs turn all by themselves.”

      

      Julie Ann did her best to relate the most recent events in a way that sounded calm and self-assured. If she hadn’t sensed Smith’s growing tension as she spoke, she might have thought she’d been successful at masking her own fear. Now that the supposed danger was past, she did feel a bit silly for having been so frightened.

      “So, after I called the sheriff, I dug out Grandpa’s old pistol. I don’t intend to take it to work but it did seem like a pretty good idea to keep it handy here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

      Seeming to sense her continued anxiety, Andy wagged his tail and laid his chin on her lap.

      “If I’d heard that big moose barking inside your house, I sure wouldn’t have opened the door.” Smith stood. “Why don’t you put the dogs up while I grab a flashlight from my truck? Then we’ll walk around back and check it out.”

      “Do you really think we might find tracks or something?”

      “I hope not,” Smith said. “But if we do, I intend to phone Harlan myself and tell him what I think of his deputy’s careless treatment of a crime scene.”

      Julie Ann led Andy and Bubbles to the screen door and ushered them inside, firmly closing the heavier, paneled door while Smith went to fetch the flashlight.

      “Nothing actually happened,” she said when he returned.

      “Only by the grace of God.”

      Agreeing but not commenting, Julie Ann followed him off the porch and around the side of the house. Truth to tell, if Smith had not been beside her, she would have gone back into the house with Andy and locked the doors again instead of proceeding into the shadowy depths of her garden.

      The enormous hydrangea at the corner of the porch was merely an innocent plant. She knew that as well as she knew her own name, yet its leaves seemed to flutter and reach for her like grasping hands. The shade trees cast creepy, moonlit shadows on the lawn. A whip-poor-will’s call sounded plaintive and eerie. Every normally innocent sound or sight made her tense up as if she were about to be attacked.

      Her palm rested atop the pistol grip. She didn’t know if she could actually shoot anyone who threatened her but she wasn’t going to hesitate to bluff if the need arose.

      When Smith put out his arm to block her forward movement, she almost ran into him. “What?”

      He pointed the flashlight beam. “If those are your footprints, you have a lot bigger feet than I thought.”

      Staring at the imprints, she gasped. Her mouth was suddenly so dry she couldn’t swallow. “I—I don’t wear boots with a waffle sole. I never have.”

      “That’s what I was afraid of.”

      Smith reached into his pocket and took out a cell phone. Julie Ann hugged herself and listened while he made a call to Harlan and explained what they’d found.

      As soon as he hung up, she asked “Is he sending Boyd back?” The disgusted expression on Smith’s face answered her question even before he spoke.

      “No. They’re busy with an accident out on the highway. No one’s available.”

      She


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