Page 38 of Alibi for Murder
Inside was a whole other story. The lobby was certainly not one found in any prison with its endless glass and marble panels for walls all showcased by granite flooring and meticulously placed plants and stylish seating areas. The ceiling soared two stories with all that glass allowing sunlight to fill the space. They might have been in a luxury resort hotel on a tropical island somewhere.
Special Agent Fraser met them in that grand lobby.
“Thank you for coming.” He looked to Allie as he spoke.
Like she had a choice.
“We’ll be going up a few floors, where we’ll catch up with Agent Potter in a private conference room.”
“Lead the way,” Steve said, cutting straight to the chase. No smile. No handshake. Not even a hello.
Allie reminded herself to breathe as they rode the elevator upward. Fraser said nothing. Steve said nothing. Allie was readyto erupt with tension. But then Steve glanced at her, smiled, and she felt better. Calmer.
Funny how that worked.
The elevator stopped, and they prepared to exit. Fraser started forward then abruptly paused and indicated that Allie should precede him. She did so and waited for the two to join her in the corridor. Other staff members hurried along to meetings, speaking quietly to colleagues going in the same direction or to someone via a cell phone.
They all appeared focused on their own agenda, intent on some destination, and not a single one paid the slightest attention to her and the two men accompanying her.
The conference room was small but private. Agent Potter was already seated at the oval table. A large binder sat in front of her. Next to the binder was a medium-sized box, flaps closed, concealing whatever was inside.
The fluttering nerves were back.
Potter gestured to the remaining chairs around the table. “Find a seat and we’ll get started.”
Steve pulled out a chair for her, and Allie lowered into it. She focused on slowing her respiration. Reminded herself that she had a secret weapon—the Colby Agency. And Steve. She watched as he settled into his chair. She relaxed. He had her back.
“I’d like to start this meeting,” Potter said, “by passing along that we have confirmed the video provided by hospital security was edited.”
Allie barely resisted the urge to do a fist pump and squeal.
“That’s not to say,” Fraser added with a look directly at Allie, “that we’re convinced you had nothing to do with or have no knowledge of the events leading to Thomas Madison’s death. But we are aware of this aspect and wanted to let you know.”
Her glee vanished. “I’m sorry. I don’t see how you can still believe I’m involved. I didn’t even know the man.”
“I’m assuming,” Steve said, “you’re looking into who had access to surveillance systems at the hospital.”
“Of course,” Fraser confirmed.
Potter opened her binder and turned it toward Allie and Steve. “In your parents’ room—in the home where you live—we discovered these.”
The first plastic sheet protector held a blank page with two photos mounted on it. One photo was of Thomas Madison coming out of a local market. The next was of a vehicle—presumably his—turning into his driveway. Based on his age in the one at the market, the photos were recent.
“I’ve never seen these photos before.” Allie shook her head. What the heck was this? “You couldn’t have found these photos in the house. They don’t belong to me, and no one else lives there.”
“These photos are recent,” Fraser pointed out. “Just days before he was hospitalized and murdered. And they were found in your home.”
Potter turned the page. More photos of a similar nature. Allie shook her head again. “I can’t help you with this.” She turned her palms up and gestured to the binder. “I don’t know anything about these.”
Clearly they were photos taken by someone following Madison around, but that person wasn’t her. Until Friday night, she’d had no clue who he was or that he even existed, for that matter.
“But these photos were also in your home,” Potter repeated. “You surely saw them. They weren’t hidden in some out-of-the-way place. They were in the drawer next to the bed.”
Allie tried to think when she’d been in that room last, much less prowled around in the drawers. The door stayed closed, and she went in there once in a great while to dust and vacuum, butshe never searched or even touched anything beyond moving a framed photo to dust or something like that.
“I’m telling you,” she insisted, “I have not seen these photos before.”
Her mind went immediately to the photo she’d found in her parents’ room today. She’d never seen that one before either. Maybe the person who’d been in her house yesterday had been in there before. She decided not to mention as much. If Steve wanted the agents to know, he would tell them the story.
