The Perfect Cover (The Perfect Stranger #2) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,43

he says quietly. “If it weren’t for the money that you sent…” His voice trails off and we all take a moment of silence.

“I'm glad that I could do anything to help you. That was really fucked up what happened.”

I nod, hoping that she will elaborate.

When Tyler excuses himself to use the restroom, she does.

“I'm glad that you believe in his innocence,” Tessa says.

“The thing is that the prosecution had such a tight case.”

“No, they didn't. They had no case. They railroaded him.”

“He didn't really have an alibi,” I say.

It's not that I'm arguing for his guilt, it's just that I want her to give me more proof that she has of his innocence.

“Oh, you don't know, do you?” Tessa asks, taking a sip of her black coffee with no sugar or cream.

“Know what?”

“Tyler doesn't have an alibi because he was with me when it happened, but he kept that information from the cops because that's the kind of person that he is.”

I feel all the blood drain away from my face.

“Wait, I don't understand,” I mutter.

“They convicted him largely because he didn't have an alibi for where he was the night of the murder. Well, he was with me.”

“Why didn't you…”

Tessa takes a step away from me and looks down at me through her reading glasses.

“Isabelle, you're not seriously asking me this question, are you?”

“Yes, I am. He got life in prison for two murders that he did not commit. He could've gotten the death penalty. He would be there now if he hadn’t escaped. Yet, he had an alibi this whole time.”

“You do realize what kind of business I’m in, right?” she asks, the expression on her face suddenly becoming grave and distant.

I give her a nod.

“We can't discuss the details, but I want to at least tell you that your boyfriend is a very honorable man. I asked him not to tell them where he was the night of the murders and he didn’t. Not when he was arrested, not when he was on trial, not when he was convicted.”

I have so much more to ask her, but Tyler returns.

“Oh, shit,” Tyler says, looking at me. “You didn't tell her, did you?” he asks Tessa.

“She wanted to make sure that you didn't actually kill your wife,” Tessa says, sitting down in her chair with a little smile at the corner of her lips. “She traveled all this way with you, committing who knows how many felonies, but she still wanted to double-check that everything was on the up and up.”

“That's not what happened,” I say sternly. “I just asked you if you happen to have any more proof about his innocence. Anything that he could use to prove that he didn't do it.”

“Well, I told you what I have, whether or not you use it is up to Tyler.”

Luckily, our conversation is cut short when Tessa excuses herself to take a phone call in another room. We sit in her bright kitchen overlooking a turquoise pool and hot tub.

The sun is bright and the weather is warm. The hedges out back provide what feels like infinite privacy.

“You had an alibi this whole time and you didn't say anything?” I ask Tyler, not wanting to waste a moment of our alone time.

“It's not that easy, Isabelle. This is the drug business. I can't just tell the cops that I was with her without implicating Tessa and everybody who works for her.”

“What were you doing?”

He shakes his head.

“Tell me,” I insist.

He thinks about it for a moment.

“It was just a meeting. She came to me because she needed some help with the drug cartel out of Mexico.”

The phrase drug cartel makes my mouth drop open. My throat gets parched and I swallow hard.

“I don't know the details of her operation and I don't want to, but I was with her that night and there were other people there. They showed up. They talked in private, but I couldn’t very well tell the police that I was with her. I had to keep my mouth shut in order to not get killed. The thing that they say about snitches on television is true. If anyone suspects that you will open your mouth about anything that happens, they take you out. They don't debate and they don't second-guess.”

“I don't understand,” I say, shaking my head. “Were you actually involved in the drug deal?”

“No. She was my silent partner, my investor, remember? We had a meeting about her money, she wanted to