Page 27 of Alibi for Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #2)

She surveyed the darkness outside the vehicle.

She had lived in this house her entire life.

Played in every corner of this yard. At one time, she had known all her neighbors.

Granted, this was an old neighborhood, so the houses were farther apart than in newer communities, and there were trees—lots of trees. Lots of hiding places.

She banished the notion. She knew every tree. This was home. Not some wilderness she’d never explored.

Deep breath. She opened the door and climbed out.

She touched the door handle and locked the SUV.

Continually scanning the darkness for movement, she tucked her cell into one back pocket and the fob into the other.

Clutching her house key and with the flash drive in her front pocket, she hurried to the door.

She unlocked each of the deadbolts with the key.

Every click making her look around to ensure no one had appeared out of the shadows.

The back door was still an issue, but Steve had screwed it shut from the inside, so that wouldn’t be easily used by an intruder.

This door had been locked, so it wasn’t likely anyone had gotten in again. She relaxed a little.

Of course, there were plenty of windows to be broken and climbed through.

She shook off the thought.

“Focus,” she muttered.

The door opened into the little entry hall, and she flipped on a light switch.

She breathed easier then. No one jumped out at her.

No sound of running footsteps. It was all quiet.

Since Steve had arrived, she’d been forgetting to set the security system, not that it would have alerted anyone, but it did make enough noise to probably deter a would-be intruder.

She would be sure to set it when she left this time.

“Okay.” She closed and locked the door, all three deadbolts, then put the key in her front pocket. Moving quickly, she went from room to room, turning on lights, to ensure all was clear before heading upstairs.

Once in the second-story hallway, she checked the rooms up there too. When all appeared clear, she hurried to her office and reached for her laptop.

She froze, the laptop in her hand.

Why drive back to the station to have a look? Why not look right now? Assuming the contents weren’t password blocked or somehow encrypted, she could see what she had in like ten seconds.

She really should get back.

But what if this was the information they had been looking for that would lead them to the truth?

Her need to know won the battle.

She slid into her chair and opened the laptop. It took a moment to get the flash drive into the proper port. Even more time was required for it to launch and load.

“Come on,” she muttered, her nerves jumping.

Then it started.

Holding her breath, she watched as folders loaded onto the screen. None were labeled beyond the basic numbers 1, 2, et cetera.

She clicked on the first folder and, sluggishly, it opened. Dozens of documents populated the screen. She clicked on the first one, and it opened. The title on the page was Test Subject One. The accompanying image had her jaw dropping.

The detailed description of the head…the shoulders and torso…arms…legs…was that of a man except it wasn’t…human.

But it looked human.

She read through the notes quickly. Daily reports…monthly progress.

Heart pounding, she closed that one and opened the next. Another of the same, only this one was a woman.

“Holy…”

Glass shattering downstairs made her jump.

Allie stilled. Listened.

There was a sound…

She strained to hear…too terrified to move. There was a crackling noise.

What the hell?

More shattering glass.

She yanked the flash drive from the port and started to shove it into her pocket but decided to put it in her bra. Moving soundlessly, she eased to the door. No one in the upstairs hall. She crept along toward the staircase, listening and watching.

What was that smell? Gasoline.

She paused at the top of the stairs.

The distinct sound of a whoosh filled the air.

Fear rammed into her chest.

Fire.

She had to get out of here. Couldn’t go downstairs…whoever had started the fire was down there somewhere…maybe waiting outside the door.

Slowly, she backed away from the staircase. She could go out a window.

But she was on the second floor.

Allie hesitated, then she smiled. Didn’t matter. Her grandparents had put in an emergency ladder. Her grandmother said Allie’s father had insisted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she murmured as she rushed to her grandparents’ room. There were three windows…which one was it?

All the windows had blinds and curtains.

She went to the middle one. Not that one. Not the one on the left.

At the final window, the ladder was attached to the wall behind a small table her grandmother had used to camouflage it.

Allie unlocked the window and pushed upward on the sash. It didn’t budge. Fear throttled through her veins. She pushed again, using every ounce of strength she possessed. It didn’t give.

The odor of smoke grew thicker.

Her lungs seemed to seize in anticipation of filling with the deadly carbon and airborne particles. She had to hurry.

Think, Al.

What had she heard her grandmother say about old windows being stuck? Sometimes the paint made them stick… She needed something to slide between the sash and the frame that held it in place.

Heart pounding, she rushed to the table on her grandfather’s side of the bed, dragged open the drawer and picked through the items there.

He’d always collected and carried pocketknives.

She grabbed the largest one in the drawer and rushed back to the window.

It took her a moment to figure out how to open it.

Once she did, she stuck the blade between the sash and its frame and started to wiggle it and then to slide it up and down.

She did one side before moving on to the other.

By the time she’d finished, the smoke was thick in the air.

Her body resisted the impulse to breathe.

She had to get out of here.

Dropping the knife, she got a grip on the sash with both hands and tugged. She groaned with the effort of lifting it, desperation rushing through her body.

The sash gave way, sliding upward a few inches.

Allie cried out with relief. She placed her hands beneath the lower part of the sash this time and pulled upward again and, thank God, up it went.

Her knees went weak with relief.

It took a few seconds to get the screen out of the way. She allowed it to fall to the ground outside. It was pitch dark in the backyard. She wished she’d turned on some exterior lights when she arrived and started turning on lights in the house.

She released the ladder and pushed it over the ledge and out the window.

Now all she had to do was climb down. She stuck her upper body out the window and stared toward the ground. It was quite a ways to fall.

“You can do this.”

She could. She really could.

She drew her upper body back inside, next one leg went out the window, then the other. The position she’d chosen left her sitting on the window ledge with her legs hanging out. With a deep breath, she rolled onto her stomach and eased her lower body out farther.

Now her legs dangled in the air. The window casing cut into her abdomen.

She focused on finding the ladder with her feet. First one foot hooked on to a rung and then the other. Her heart in her throat, she tested her weight. No snap and break, no sudden drop. Okay. She started down. One rung at a time. Right. Left. Repeat.

When her feet were on the ground, she wilted against the side of the house.

She was down without breaking anything.

The fire blazed in the first floor windows.

Fear snaked around her throat.

The house would soon be fully engulfed.

The photo albums. Her family’s things! Her entire history. Allie slapped her hands over her mouth to hold back the scream that burgeoned there.

But she couldn’t scream. Whoever had set the fire could still be out there watching to make sure she went up in flames with the house.

She needed to call 911.

She reached into her pocket for her phone.

Not there.

Had she left it on her desk? In the SUV? Had it fallen on the floor in her grandparents’ room or on the ground outside?

A loud sound in the front part of the house or on the porch shattered the air. Had a room caved in?

She had to get out of here. Find help. Get back to Steve.

After a quick glance side to side, she rushed into the wooded area between her house and the one next door.

She ran through the trees, stumbled over things she couldn’t identify in the dark.

She ran until she reached the clearing that was the yard of the next house.

It was dark. The occupants were either in bed or away.

Gasping for air and moving slowly, she made her way to the street. Fear pulsed in her veins. If she could make it across to the yellow house, she would knock on the door. The Simpsons lived there. They were friends of her grandparents. Their car was in the driveway.

She checked both ways then started across.

Just as she reached the halfway mark, a car barreled around the curve on her left.

She froze for an instant then turned and rushed back to her side of the street in hopes of reaching the cover of the trees before she was spotted.

The car skidded to a stop.

Not a car she realized. An SUV. Oh God.

She was about to dive into the woods when, “Hey, get in before they find you!”

Rivero.

A dozen questions shot through her head, but there was no time to analyze the situation. She could stay and hope to find a way out of here, or she could go with him.

She turned back to the street. The vehicle was his vintage Land Rover.

He could take her to Steve. Okay. She ran toward the vehicle, the door opened and she climbed inside. “They set my house on fire.”

“Buckle up.” He stamped on the gas, and the vehicle rocketed forward.

When they passed her house it was fully involved.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“Everything is gone,” she murmured. Her entire history was gone. Her family’s history.

“At least you’re alive.” Rivero glanced in her direction.

She nodded, her body starting to shake from the receding adrenaline.

“You came for your laptop. Did you get a look at whatever you found?”

She nodded again, watching in the side mirror as her house disappeared in the distance as they drove away.

“I wish you hadn’t looked.” His words were spoken so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.

“Why?” Her voice sounded weak and somehow frail.

Everything was gone…her heart hurt.

He glanced at her again, his expression grim in the dim light from the dash. “Because you can’t unsee it.”