Page 24 of Alibi for Murder
She had to admit it had been nice to fall asleep last night knowing someone else was in the house. Even nicer to wake up and share coffee and toast with a really smart, handsome man who…
Okay, slow down, Al.
She shook off the random thoughts and rinsed their coffee mugs, then placed them on the drainer.
Steve came back to the door, his call obviously completed. “That was my mother. She insists we come to dinner. You okay with that?”
For one moment, fear paralyzed her. What would she wear? What would Mrs. Durham think of her now? Would she believe Allie capable of murder? The story hadn’t been in the news yet as far as she knew, which surprised her, but still people talked in small towns. His mother lived here. She would no doubt hear all the rumors and gossip.
Allie faked a smile and nodded with pretend enthusiasm. “Sure.”
“We’ll take the photo of the mystery couple,” he suggested, completely undaunted by the idea. “Mom or Dad might know who they are.”
“Good idea.” He’d sent a copy to one of his colleagues. Hopefully between that person and the Durhams they would learn the identity of the mystery couple. The fact that the photos with that couple were hidden seemed to imply some sort of secret.
But who knew if it was related to anything. It could be a waste of time.
Allie breathed a little easier about having dinner with Steve’s family. All she had to do was focus on the issue at hand. Everything else would work out.
“You ready?” he asked when she lingered at the sink.
She pushed aside the worries and shifted her attention to where it belonged. “Absolutely.”
They were taking another field trip—this one to Thomas Madison’s most recent home. Maybe they would notice something the federal agents had not. Like some clue that pointed to the truth.
Probably wishful thinking.
Madison Residence
Hamilton Road
Woodstock, 9:30 a.m.
The Madison homewas neglected like the Madison/Talbert property. Not quite as overgrown but utterly rundown with lots of deferred maintenance.
The place was well off the beaten path. The home stood a good distance back from the road, at least a mile, amid eightyacres of wooded land, according to the county property records. Obviously it was an expansive property. The nearest house on either side of the road was quite a distance away, but there was one directly across the road from the long driveway.
Also like the other property, the house was an older one. Not a refurbished barn this time but one of those boxy modern styles with too many angles and lots of windows so popular in the 70s and 80s. Since it sat where the property sloped downward on one side, there appeared to be a walk-out basement level.
It was unusually warm today. Allie was grateful for the shade of the generous number of trees around the house. She and Steve climbed the steps to the front stoop, which was too narrow to officially be called a porch, and rang the bell. The light above the door was on as if waiting for the owner to return. She put her hands on either side of her eyes and peered through the glass sidelight next to the double set of doors.
A foyer led directly into a large, open-concept room with a soaring ceiling. Wood beams, wood floors. Exactly what one would expect in a home of this style and era. It was furnished the same way, with some modern-looking pieces.
No one came to the door since the owner was lying on a stainless-steel slab at the morgue. He had no family to take over the property, much less to claim him or to see to his final arrangements.
Infinitely sad.
Allie suddenly realized she was in that same boat. No next of kin. No close friends. All her work associates were nothing more than voices on radio waves bouncing off cell towers.
She drew back mentally, banished the sad thought. Not exactly reaffirming.
Steve walked down the steps and started around the corner of the house, and Allie followed. In addition to the garage that was part of the house structure, there was a detached garage. Beyondthat was what might be a barn. Not big and tall like the older ones, but something more modern and space conscious with a lower roof line.
The two of them peered through each first-floor window just as they had at the other house. The more they looked, the more obvious it was that the house had been thoroughly searched. Drawers either weren’t quite closed all the way or sat askew. Items atop those same pieces of furniture sat in no particular arrangement. Pillows and cushions on the sofa and chairs were not fully tucked into place. All appearedoutof place. As she had thought, on the one end where the ground sloped, there was a lower level that opened to the outside with windows and French doors. The shades or blinds were drawn tight over those windows as well as the doors.
There was nothing about the property that felt familiar to Allie. Nothing at all.
“I don’t recall any of the photos having been taken here,” Steve mentioned.
