Whiskey Beach - By Nora Roberts Page 0,59

on the list.”

“Oh, I’m aware. Just as I’m aware it would be neat and convenient if you could tie me to a second homicide investigation.”

“Who said anything about a second murder?”

Smug bastard, Eli thought, but kept his tone even. “You’re a murder cop. If you believed Duncan’s death was an accident, you wouldn’t be here. That means it’s either murder or a suspicious death. I used to be a criminal attorney. I know how this works.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you know all the ins and outs.”

Corbett held up a hand. “Can you verify your whereabouts, Mr. Landon, between midnight and five Friday morning?”

“Friday morning? I went into Boston Thursday. I was at my parents’ when I got the call about the break-in. I drove straight back. I think I got here about eleven-thirty, before midnight anyway. I’m not sure of the exact time. I went to check on Abra—Abra Walsh, the woman who was assaulted in Bluff House.”

“What was she doing in the house when you weren’t?” Wolfe demanded. “Are you sleeping with her?”

“And how, exactly, is my sex life relevant to this inquiry?”

“Apologies, Mr. Landon.” Corbett’s warning glance at Wolfe, while subtle, held a charge. “Can you tell us why Ms. Walsh was in the house at that time?”

“She cleans here, and has for my grandmother for a couple years. She’d been in that day and couldn’t remember if she’d closed all the windows. We had a storm. I imagine you’ve already spoken to her, but I’ll take you through it. Knowing I was in Boston, she came down to check the windows and drop off some stew she’d made for me. Someone grabbed her from behind—our power was out, so it was dark. She managed to get away, drove to her friends’ house—her next-door neighbors, Mike and Maureen O’Malley. Mike contacted me, and the police. I left Boston immediately after Mike called, and drove back to Whiskey Beach.”

“Arriving sometime between eleven-thirty and midnight.”

“That’s right. Abra was shaken up, and as she’d injured her assailant in her struggle to get away, she had the assailant’s blood on her clothes. The responding officers took her clothes in evidence. I spent some time at the O’Malleys’ before coming here. Abra came with me. We met Deputy Hanson.”

“A friend of yours,” Wolfe put in.

“I knew Vinnie when we were teenagers, into our twenties. I haven’t seen him for a number of years.” Eli let the implication go, kept his voice even. “The police who responded found the power had been cut, the alarm deactivated. At that time I couldn’t find anything missing or out of place. I told Deputy Hanson about Kirby Duncan, and as I previously stated, Ms. Walsh described her attacker as a man with a different body type. Being thorough, Deputy Hanson indicated he would interview Duncan, who was, I believe, staying at the Surfside B-and-B. Again, I don’t know what time, exactly, Deputy Hanson left. My guess would be around twelve-thirty or a little before.”

Too bad, Eli thought, he hadn’t logged the times.

“When he did, I went, accompanied by Ms. Walsh, into the basement. We have an unreliable generator, and I’d hoped to get some power on. When we were downstairs, and I was hunting around for tools, I found, in the oldest section of the basement, a large trench. There were still tools, which the police have since taken into evidence—picks, shovels, that kind of thing. It’s clear whoever broke in had done so before.”

“To dig a trench in the basement?” Corbett suggested.

“If you’ve been around Whiskey Beach for any amount of time, you’d have heard about the legend—the dowry, the treasure. For every person who believes it’s bullshit, there’s another five who believe it’s gospel. I can’t swear to the purpose of the break-in, the excavation, but it’s a pretty educated guess somebody figured they’d unearth a fortune in jewels.”

“You could’ve dug it yourself.”

This time Eli barely spared Wolfe a glance. “I wouldn’t have to break into a house I’m already living in, and I’d be pretty stupid to show the trench to Abra or the cops if I’d been spending my time digging. In any case, we were down there awhile. I managed to get the generator going for emergency power. When we came up, I built a fire. It was cold in here, and Abra was still upset. We had some wine, sat in here. She fell asleep on the couch. I do know it was about two in the morning when I went upstairs. I

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