The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,39

speak with her privately. But I can’t be sure she’ll talk to me about it, either.”

“It all might be nothing.” Meredith sighed.

Unfortunately, at the moment, nothing was exactly what they had.

Chapter Ten

They found Greg in his room, though it took him several minutes to respond to their knocking. Tom was about to suggest they check for him downstairs when the door finally opened.

Greg scowled at them, bleary-eyed and disheveled, his hair sticking up on one side. Obviously they’d woken him from a nap. Or a drunken stupor, Tom thought.

“What is it?” Greg demanded.

“We just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Tom said.

“I was fine until somebody started pounding on my door,” he grumbled. “Is that all?”

“That’s all,” Tom murmured. “Glad you’re okay.”

Muttering under his breath, Greg slammed the door in their faces.

“How much do you think he’s had to drink today?” Meredith asked, her voice heavy with concern.

“Too much,” Tom replied.

“It might make it hard for him to defend himself if the killer comes after him,” Meredith noted.

“You’re right.” Tom sighed. “But it’s never been easy to tell him he’s had enough and, under the circumstances, he probably has the best excuse he’s ever had. I’ll have to try to keep an eye on him.” It wasn’t going to be easy. He was already trying to keep an eye on Meredith. He didn’t want anything to happen to her. Hell, he didn’t want anything to happen to anyone. The fact was, he needed to be thinking about watching out for his own back, as well.

They moved on to Alex’s door. This time there was no answer even after several minutes. Trying not to get concerned without reason, Tom followed Meredith downstairs to see if he was somewhere else in the house.

The living room was empty when they checked it. As they approached the kitchen, Tom heard voices coming from inside the room. Ellen and Rick, he assumed.

Following Meredith through the swinging door, he immediately saw he’d been partly right. Ellen and Rick were both in the room, Ellen standing at the kitchen island, Rick leaning against the wall nearby. But they weren’t alone. Alex stood on the other side of the island facing them. The tension in the air was so thick it almost seemed harder to breathe in here. Tom came to a stop an instant before Meredith did, his senses instantly going on alert.

“Everything okay in here?” Meredith asked.

“Fine,” Alex said with a smile. “We were just having a nice talk.”

Neither Ellen nor Rick commented on that, the silence confirmation enough of just how nice they thought it was. Tom had no trouble understanding what had been happening here. Alex had been asking questions—more like interrogating them, Tom suspected—or at least trying to. It made sense. Not only was his life in danger as much as everyone else’s, Alex was predisposed to ask questions and demand the truth. Tom hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Meredith about how intense Alex could get. It wasn’t surprising the cook and the handyman would be uncomfortable with him pestering them, even if their jobs required them to try to be polite.

Of course, if they were innocent, they would be uncomfortable around someone they thought could be a killer, Tom conceded.

“How’s lunch coming along?” Meredith asked Ellen.

“Should be ready soon.”

“Great.” Meredith turned to Alex. “Maybe you’d like to go wash up?”

“That’s not necessary,” Alex said. “I’m not really hungry. But I will get out of your way. Good talking you,” he told Rick and Ellen.

They both managed faint, polite, utterly insincere smiles.

With a nod to Tom and Meredith, he moved toward the exit, the slight limp a little more noticeable as he walked.

The sight was a painful reminder of exactly what Alex had been through, exactly why he was so dogged about seeking out answers, even beyond their current circumstances. Although Meredith hadn’t let him participate in searching Haley’s room, it wasn’t surprising that he’d do whatever he could to get to the truth—

Suddenly Tom remembered what had happened upstairs, the person who’d been listening. Alex?

He had almost reached the door, raising his hand to push it open. Tom called out, “Hey, Alex?”

Alex stopped and glanced back.

“You weren’t by any chance upstairs a few hours ago when Meredith and I were going through Haley’s room, were you?”

Tom watched his face closely for any sign of guilt or avoidance. He didn’t find any. Alex was adept at hiding his thoughts—probably a good quality to have in his line of work, but one