Page 163 of The Alibi


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“You ought to know, Mr. Cross. She said she was asking on your behalf.”

* * *

A news junkie by habit, Loretta Boothe watched the early evening newscasts, flipping back and forth between channels and comparing their coverage of the Alex Ladd story.

She was dismayed to see Hammond facing TV cameras looking the worse for wear, his arm in a sling. When had he got hurt? And how? She had seen him just last night.

About the time the news ended and Wheel of Fortune began, her daughter Bev came through the living room dressed for work. “I made a macaroni casserole for my lunch, Mom. There’s plenty left in the fridge for your supper. Salad makings, too.”

“Thanks, honey. I’m not hungry just yet, but maybe later.”

Bev hesitated at the front door. “Are you okay?”

Loretta saw the worry in her daughter’s eyes, the wariness. The harmony between them was still tentative. Both wanted desperately for things to go well this time. Both feared that they wouldn’t. Promises had been made and broken too many times for either of them to trust Loretta’s most recent pledges. Everything depended on her staying sober. That was all she had to do. But that was a lot.

“I’m fine.” She gave Bev a reassuring smile. “You know that case I was working on? They’re taking it to the grand jury next week.”

“Based on information you provided?”

“Partially.”

“Wow. That’s great, Mom. You still have the knack.”

Bev’s compliment warmed her. “Thanks. But I guess this means I’m out of work again.”

“After this success, I’m sure you’ll get more.” Bev pulled open the door. “Have a good evening. See you in the morning.”

After Bev left, Loretta continued watching the game show, but only for lack of something better to do. The apartment felt claustrophobic this evening, although the rooms were no smaller today than they had been yesterday or the day before. The restlessness wasn’t environmental; it came from within.

She considered going out, but that would be risky. Her friends were other drunks. The hangout places she knew were rife with temptation to have just one drink. Even one would spell the end of her sobriety, and she would be right back where she had been before Hammond had retained her to work on the Pettijohn case.

She wished that job weren’t over. Not just because of the money. Although Bev made an adequate salary to support them, Loretta wished to contribute to the household account. It would be good for her self-esteem, and she needed the independence that came with earning her own income.

Also, as long as she was working, she wouldn’t notice her thirst. Idle time was a peril she needed to avoid. Having nothing constructive to do made her crave what she couldn’t have. With time on her hands, she began thinking about how trivial her life really was, how it really wouldn’t matter if she drank herself to death, how she might just as well make things easy on herself and everyone associated with her. A dangerous train of thought.

Now that she thought about it, Hammond hadn’t specifically told her he no longer needed her services. After she gave him the scoop on Dr. Alex Ladd, he had fled that bar like his britches were on fire. Although he had seemed somewhat downcast, he couldn’t wait to act upon the information she had provided, and his action must have paid off because now he was taking his murder case to the grand jury.

Contacting Harvey Knuckle today had probably been superfluous. Hammond had seemed rushed and not all that interested when she passed along her hunch that Harvey had lied to her this morning. But what the hell? It hadn’t hurt her to make that additional effort.

Despite Hammond’s injuries, whatever they were, his voice had been strong and full of his conviction when he addressed the reporters on the steps of police headquarters. He explained that Bobby Trimble’s appearance had been the turning point of the case.

“Based on the strength of his testimony, I feel confident that Dr. Ladd will be indicted.”

Conversely, Dr. Ladd’s solicitor, whom Loretta knew by reputation only, had told the media that this was the most egregious mistake ever made by the Charleston P.D. and Special Assistant County Solicitor Cross. He was confident that when all the facts were known, Dr. Ladd would be vindicated and that the powers-that-be would owe her a public apology. Already he was considering filing a defamation suit.

Loretta recognized lawyerese when she heard it, although Frank Perkins’s statements had been particularly impassioned. Either he was an excellent orator or he was genuinely convinced of his client’s innocence. Maybe Hammond did have the wrong suspect.

If so, he would be made to look like a fool in the most important case of his career thus far.

He had alluded to Alex Ladd’s unsubstantiated alibi, but he hadn’t been specific. Something about… what was it?

“Little Bo Peep Show,” Loretta said mechanically, solving the Before and After puzzle on Wheel of Fortune with the t’s, the p’s, and the w still missing.

A fair on the outskirts of Beaufort. That was it.

Suddenly on her feet, she went into the kitchen where Bev stacked newspapers before conscientiously bundling them for recycling. Luckily tomorrow was pickup day, so a week’s worth was there. Loretta plowed through them until she located last Saturday’s edition.

She pulled out the entertainment section and quickly leafed through it until she found what she had hoped to. The quarter-page advertisement for the fair provided the time, place, directions, admission fees, attractions to be enjoyed, and—wait!

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