Page 3 of Alibi for Murder
Potter pulled out her cell phone and tapped the screen. “You’re thirty-two years old. Born to Alice and Jerry Foster, who died in an automobile accident when you were four.” She glanced up at Allie when she said this as if to gage her reaction.
“That’s correct.”
“Your mother’s parents, Virginia and Gordon Holt, raised you. You graduated high school right here in Woodstock and went on to the nursing program at McHenry.”
Now Allie was just annoyed. She leaned forward and held up her hands in a stop-sign fashion. “I’m not answering any more questions until you tell me what this is about.”
Technically, they weren’t even questions, just recitations of the facts about her life to which she automatically agreed. People did that far too often. Gave away too much information about themselves without even realizing they were confirming details that might haunt them later. Like for someone who might be trying to steal her home.
Stop, Al.
“You’re employed by GenCorp,” Fraser went on, taking the lead now that Allie had shown her irritation at Potter. “You started with them from their inception, ten years ago.”
“Again,” Allie said, “I will know what this is about before we continue the conversation.”
“Ms. Foster,” Potter resumed, “there was an incident at the hospital where you worked which precipitated your leaving thehands-on side of the nursing field and moving to what you do now.”
The memory of a patient dying in her arms caused Allie to flinch. She was not going back there. She stood. “I think we’re done here.”
There was absolutely no reason to talk about that tragedy. Allie had been investigated by the hospital, the nursing board and the local police. She had been cleared of wrongdoing. It was the doctor in charge of the case who’d made the mistake; Allie had only tried to save the poor woman, and sadly, all her efforts had failed.
“Please—” Fraser eased forward a bit but didn’t trouble himself to stand “—bear with us, Ms. Foster.”
With visible reluctance, Allie settled into her chair once more. Barely resisted the urge to gulp down the rest of the wine in her glass. Not exactly the sort of move to make with two federal agents staring her down and going over her life history.
“One week ago,” Fraser explained, “there was an incident at the hospital where you once worked. A patient was murdered in his room.”
Allie drew back, sank deeper into her chair. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She allowed a beat to pass. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“Did you see anything about it on the news?” Potter asked.
Finally, a question to actually answer. “I’m afraid not. I never watch the news.” She shrugged. “I see the occasional headline pop up when I’m at the computer checking my email, but I rarely follow the link or read whatever commentary accompanies it. I have a weather radio that keeps me informed of the weather, but that’s about it really.”
The two agents exchanged a glance.
“Can you tell us where you were on Friday, one week ago, from about five in the evening until midnight?”
Allie felt taken aback at the question. “Seriously?”
The way the two looked at her confirmed they were indeed serious.
She shrugged. “Okay. Let me confirm with my phone.” She pulled up her calendar app. “I never do anything unless my phone tells me to.” She laughed, or attempted to laugh, but the sound came out a little brittle. The agents watching her said nothing. “Okay, here we go. That would have been May 30, and I worked from eight until five, then I had dinner and a shower and started a new book.”
When the agents continued staring at her without uttering a word, she looked from one to the other. “The Great Gatsby.I’ve read it like five times, but I sometimes read it again when I haven’t decided on anything new.”
“We’ve looked into your lifestyle,” Fraser said.
A painful laugh burst out of her before Allie could stop it. Were they joking? “My lifestyle?”
“You don’t leave the house often,” he explained. “You order most everything online and have it shipped or delivered.”
This time, Allie’s laugh was more sarcastic. “Since the pandemic, lots of people use online ordering and home delivery. And when you work from home, you don’t go out as often.” What was the big deal with her shopping habits? Many, after being shut in all that time, just kept living that way. So what?
“Can you tell me the last time you left the house?” Potter inquired.
Allie drew in a deep breath and worked hard to tamp down the irritation that continued to rise. “I don’t know. Maybe last month? I think my semiannual dental cleaning was last month. Maybe the fifth. I could check my calendar if you need an exact date.”
“With Dr. Rice right here in Woodstock,” Potter said.
