Perfect Alibi. Melody Carlson

outside, walking around the property, looking for additional clues and taking some photos, but I can be back in here within minutes if you need me.” He peered into her half-open eyes. “Okay?”

      “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She leaned back into the couch as if she was about to nod off.

      “I need you to lock the doors after I go outside,” he explained.

      She nodded with a look of realization. “Of course. Thank you.”

      He led her to the front door and, after he exited, listened as she clicked the dead bolt into place. He wasn’t certain that she needed to take such precautionary measures, but at the same time he wasn’t certain that she didn’t. And if the rest of the evidence supported his suspicion of arson, it really did make this place a crime scene. In that case, he couldn’t be too careful. In fact, it was possible that the criminal was still nearby. Logan wished he’d brought his gun. Because he suddenly felt more than just a little protective of this woman. There was no way that Brock Dennison—or anyone—was going to hurt her. If they did, they’d have to go through him first.

       FIVE

      It was almost noon when Mallory woke up. It took her a moment to realize where she was—and even then she couldn’t remember why she was sleeping in her parents’ king-size bed. But then it hit her... Kestra’s murder...fleeing to here for safety. For some reason that all seemed further away now. Perhaps it was from getting some sleep or from the cheerful sunshine pouring through the big slider window. It was very comforting and almost made her feel safe. Remembering that Logan was still here added to her a sense of security. At least, she hoped he was still here. It had been hours.

      As she went into the living room, she felt a rush of fear—what if Brock was here, too? What if he really was the one who’d set the fire? Or, even worse, what if he’d hurt Logan while she was sleeping? Her heart began pounding with fear as she peered out the window. The Clover Fire Chief pickup was still parked in the driveway, which meant Logan hadn’t left. But where was he?

      With some trepidation, she stepped outside onto the front porch and glanced around, hoping to spot Logan. But he was nowhere in sight and, despite the warm sunshine, a chill ran through her. What if Brock was here? What if he’d found Logan? She hated to imagine what Brock might do if he knew that Logan was helping her. With trembling hands she pulled out her phone and located Logan’s number. As she listened to it ring, she wondered what she’d do if something had happened to him. In just a few short hours Logan McDaniel had become very dear to her. Despite her paranoia, she trusted him now. Even more reason for Brock to hate him.

      She heard the crunching of underbrush and turned to peer into the tall ponderosa pine trees, squinting through the shadows and light, trying to see what had made that noise. She knew it could be an animal, but her instincts reminded her that it could be human, too.

      “Answer the phone,” she whispered frantically as she moved closer to the front door.

      To her relief, Logan answered with a cheerful “Hello.”

      “Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said suddenly.

      “Why wouldn’t I be?”

      “I don’t know.” She glanced over to where she’d heard the noise, trying to slow down her pounding heart. “Anyway, I’m awake now,” she said nervously. “I know you wanted to finish questioning me about the fire...and stuff.”

      “Great,” he told her. “I’ll be back there in a few minutes.”

      After she said goodbye, she hurried back inside, locking the door again. She knew she was probably overreacting. Or maybe not. Would she ever stop second-guessing her every move? To distract herself, she focused her thoughts on Logan and suddenly decided that she wanted to put her best foot forward. Grabbing up her purse, she hurried into the master bathroom and peered into the brightly lit mirror. There probably wasn’t much she could do about the strained look on her face or the shadows beneath her eyes, but she made sure she didn’t have drool marks on her chin before she applied some lip gloss and mascara. She was just finishing when she heard a loud knocking on the front door. The sound made her jump, but reminding herself it was Logan, she hurried to let him in.

      “Did you check out the window to see who was at the door before you unlocked it?” Logan paused to secure the dead bolt after he closed the door.

      “No, I didn’t think of that,” she admitted.

      “Well, you probably should,” he said in a somber tone.

      “Meaning?” She studied him closely, wondering if—like her—he was becoming aware of the potential danger.

      “Meaning that fire was definitely arson. And it’s different from the other arson fires I’ve investigated recently. None were set this close to a house. Plus the incendiary device doesn’t match.” His expression was very serious. “I think you’re right to be concerned for your safety, Mallory.”

      Strangely enough, she didn’t feel nearly as worried as she’d felt before. Maybe it was because he seemed concerned, or simply because he was here with her. It was easy to be frightened when she was alone in the dark of night. But somehow, with the sun shining and seeing Logan in front of her, tall and strong and handsome, and acting so protective of her...it changed things. It was just what she needed. Well, that and some food. Her stomach rumbled loudly as if to confirm this.

      “You hungry?” He pointed to her midsection.

      She gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess so. I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate. I think it was yesterday morning...a stale donut.”

      “That’s not good.” He grimaced. “I’m getting hungry, too.”

      “I wish I could offer you something here, but my efficient mother cleaned out her fridge before they left. Although there’s always the pantry. There’s always something in there. Soup or—”

      “Let’s get out of here,” he said suddenly. “Let’s go to town. Let me take you to lunch, Mallory.”

      Even though this hadn’t been her original plan—she’d wanted to lie low for the whole weekend—she couldn’t say no to him. To be fair, she’d probably agree to almost anything he suggested. Something about this guy—maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was his smile, maybe it was his fire chief badge—made her feel safe with him.

      Logan suggested she ride with him and, once again, she agreed. “Will you run the siren?” she teased as he opened the passenger door for her.

      He laughed. “I can if you want.”

      She waved her hand. “That’s okay. No need to draw unnecessary attention.”

      As he drove to town, he asked her some rather general questions about Brock. She could tell by his tone that he was having difficulty believing that the popular Channel Six newscaster would have sneaked over here and ignited a forest fire. And who could blame him? In the light of a warm summer’s day, it sounded preposterous—even to her.

      Even so, he did appear convinced that something was seriously amiss. “It doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,” he said as they came into town, “that you received that threat shortly after the fire was set. I’m not sure what’s going on, Mallory, but I’d like to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, I’m not sure that it’s safe for you to be at your parents’ house. Do you have anyone in town you can stay with?”

      She considered this. “I can’t think of anyone offhand...” She suddenly remembered the break-in at her apartment...the image of Kestra on the bathroom floor...and all feelings of safety evaporated. “I’m not sure I like the idea of staying with someone...putting them in danger, too.” Her earlier hopefulness seeped away, replaced with apprehension and fear.

      “You okay?” he asked as he turned onto Main Street.

      “Uh,