Page 62 of Alibi for Murder
Oh crap. “What about photo albums? Your mother kept photos. Where are they? I’ll show you that I’m telling the truth.”
Please, please let the woman have kept photos from before…before this Tommy.
“Turn around,” he instructed, “walk into the living room and to your right. You will see a bookcase that contains our family albums.”
If she turned her back, would he rush up behind her and strangle her or break her neck?
This is the only option, Al.
She took a breath and turned around, following his instructions exactly. Three rows of shelves were lined with photo albums. She searched for the ones from twenty-eight to thirty years ago.
“Here we go.” She removed two then carried them to the coffee table. She sat in a chair that faced the sofa in hopes he would decide to sit there. No such luck. He crouched beside her.
It took only a moment to find the photos she needed of their parents together. She pointed to her parents. “That’s my mother and father. Your mother, Jane, and my mother, Alice, were best friends. Your father, Thomas, worked at Ledwell with my father, Jerry.”
He studied the photos. “Where are the ones of you and I?”
Allie reminded herself to breathe. “Well let’s see if your mother kept any of those photos in here.” She turned a page, then another. Fear crept up her spine when there were no photos of them. Still, she kept turning pages.
“This is the house—” she pointed to a photo of the house where the Madisons lived before “—where the pool is.”
He nodded. “I know about the pool.” He looked directly at her then. “I drowned there.”
She nodded. “You did.” She turned another page. There was a whole page of photos with Tommy in them and two included her. Her relief was so profound she barely kept her wits about her. “See.” Her voice squeaked a little. “I told you we played together when we were little.”
He leaned closer and studied the photos. “You are correct.” He studied her face. “Our families were friends. We were friends.”
She summoned a smile. “We were.”
He turned back to the photos in the album. “I was very sad when my mother died.”
“Me too. My mother and father both died not long after these photos were taken.”
“What happened to them?”
“They died in a car accident.”
He considered her words. “Who took responsibility for you?”
“My grandparents, my mother’s parents.” Another thought occurred to her. “You have a grandmother. Did you know that?”
“I do not.”
“Yes. You do.” Allie flipped back several pages, the idea or maybe her desperation gaining momentum. “This is your grandmother.” She pointed to a photo of Mrs. Talbert and Jane.
“She died when I was a child.”
“No,” Allie argued. “I saw her two days ago. She is alive, and she misses you very much.”
“My father would not lie to me.” Anger flashed in his eyes, echoed in his voice.
Maybe this particular part of her strategy hadn’t been such a good one. “I think he may have been afraid she might accidently tell someone about you, so he had to keep you a secret from her and her a secret from you.”
“Take me to see.” He stood. “I will pause your termination until you do this for me.”
Allie nodded. “We’ll need a car.”
“There is a car in the garage.”
