Page 3 of Alibi for Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #2)

The transition into her parents’ deaths unsettled her further. “I can’t say that I knew it growing up, but, looking back, I’m sure that would have been the case. Aren’t all accidents, particularly those involving deaths, investigated?”

“Usually, yes,” Fraser admitted. “But there was more to your parents’ accident. There was some question about whether it was actually an accident.”

The wallop that slammed into her chest was Allie’s own heart. She gasped, pressed her hand to her chest and fought to calm herself. “I was not aware of this, no. Do you have any evidence of what you’re telling me?”

“A couple of reports. The investigation was standard protocol,” Fraser said, “in light of certain anomalies related to the way the accident happened. And no, I don’t have all the details, but suffice it to say there were questions.

None of which were answered, in my opinion.

No matter, the case was closed, and that was the end of it. ”

Allie got up. She had to move. She started to pace. Didn’t care what her guests thought. Why wouldn’t her grandparents have told her this?

These two couldn’t answer that question any more than she could. What she needed just now was to focus on this moment—this bizarre meeting.

“What does my parents’ accident have to do with this Mr. Madison and his murder?”

“We don’t know,” Potter admitted. “That’s what we’d like to find out. Which is why we’re here.”

Allie paused and aimed a what-the-heck expression at her. “How would I know? I was four years old when they died.”

“Right,” Potter agreed. “We’re hoping your grandparents left notes, letters or some sort of information about the investigation back then that will give us some insight.

Apparently the local law enforcement office suffered a fire in the storage area where old case files were kept, so there’s nothing on the investigation. ”

Allie digested this information. “If my grandparents kept anything related to the accident, I am unaware of it.” They never talked about the accident.

Much was said about her parents, of course.

In part to ensure Allie knew how much they had loved her and also to help her remember them.

But not much was said about that awful day other than exactly that—what an awful day it was.

“We assumed as much,” Fraser said. “We hoped you might allow us to have a look around the house—unless of course you’ve purged any and all old papers and files.”

“No. I would never do that. This was their home. Their papers and other things are right where they left them.” It was a big old rambling house. No need to purge. Not that she would have anyway.

“Then you won’t mind if we look for anything useful on finding the truth about what happened to your parents?” This from Potter.

Yes was on the tip of Allie’s tongue, but then logic kicked in.

“You came here to question me about a murder.” She looked to Fraser. “You have a video—or two—that seem to show me entering the hospital and then the room of the victim on the day of the murder and, I’m assuming, around the time of his death. But then you segued into my parents’ accident.”

“Because we feel the two are related,” Fraser insisted.

“Twenty-eight years apart,” she countered.

“Yes,” Fraser insisted.

“So you’re looking for any thoughts, notes, letters et cetera my grandparents may have kept related to the accident.

You’re not here to find evidence that would somehow prove your theory about me going into that hospital room and murdering a patient.

” This was not a question. She already knew the answer.

“Oh,” Fraser said with a no-way expression and a wave of his upright palms, “no, we’re certainly not looking to railroad anyone. We’re here to find the truth.”

“So your search warrant will be very specific about what you’re looking for,” Allie suggested.

“If one is required,” Fraser said. “I don’t see any need to make it that sort of formal search. Agent Potter and I could just have a quick, casual look around as long as you’re agreeable.”

Allie almost laughed out loud. These two clearly thought she was a na?ve shut-in. Obviously, they also thought she was a murderer.

Bottom line, she had no idea whatsoever if her parents’ accident was anything other than an accident. She also had no clue as to whether their accident was related to this murder at the hospital. And she certainly did not know the victim.

But what she did know was that she wasn’t a fool.

Allie paused in her pacing. “Well, thank you for stopping by and giving me so much to consider.” She gestured toward the entry hall. “But I believe we’re quite finished here.”

“You’re refusing to cooperate with our investigation,” Potter suggested.

Allie smiled at the less-than-subtle pressure technique. “No. I’m just choosing to take advantage of my legal right to say no, not without a warrant. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a glass of wine and a chocolate bar to finish.”

With another of those shared looks, the two federal agents rose from the sofa and walked to the front door. Once they were gone, Allie secured all three deadbolts then went to a window to watch them drive away.

She wondered how long it would be before they were back with a warrant and a team of fellow agents to search the house.

She couldn’t think of a reason why she should be worried—there had to be some kind of mistake.

But the fact that they had the video showing her in the hospital, supposedly one week ago, entering the room of a man who was murdered, was startling enough to take a moment to think this situation through.

As much as she would love to believe it was just some sort of mistake—a woman who looked like her—this was not the case.

This was something very, very wrong.

She had no family attorney. The one who had settled the estate after her grandmother passed away had since passed away himself. She had no friends who were in the legal profession.

In truth, she had lost touch with anyone she had considered a friend years ago. Not due to any falling outs or disagreements. Just because she wasn’t much of a socializer, and it was simply easier to focus on work and taking care of her grandmother, and then the pandemic came along.

Life changed.

She leaned against the locked door and racked her brain for anyone who might be able to advise her. Someone she could trust.

Wait. A smile tugged at her lips.

Steve Durham.

He’d joined the police department in Chicago when he graduated high school.

She remembered him well. He was a year older, but she’d had a serious crush on him.

Not long before her grandmother died, she and Allie had bumped into Steve’s grandmother at an appointment at the medical center.

The two had discussed being widows and having grandchildren.

Allie remembered Mrs. Durham talking about how Steve had left the police department after only a year, deciding instead to go to university.

Then he’d gone on to law school. He’d been hired right away by some fancy, as she called it, private investigations agency in Chicago. What was the name of it?

Oh yeah. The Colby Agency.