Perfect Alibi. Melody Carlson

pointed out others who were happily involved.” She pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. “Come to think of it, he even insinuated that dating him could help my position. But, honestly, that wasn’t my motivation. And Brock is very persuasive and the truth is that, back then, I found him charming and attractive. And, even though I’d been pushing him away, I have to admit I was flattered by the attention. I finally gave in at Christmastime last year. I agreed to go on one date with him. You’d think I’d given him the moon.”

      Logan nodded. A real date with Mallory would feel like a gift to him, too. If it turned out that she was being honest with him. Somehow he felt she was. “So you started dating him about six or seven months ago?” he prodded.

      “Well, we weren’t really dating. It was one date. We went to a fund-raiser thing right after Christmas. Our next date—because he talked me into it—was on New Year’s Eve.” She paused to think. “We went out a few times after that, but we didn’t really become a couple—well, not in my eyes, anyway—until Valentine’s Day.”

      “Uh-huh?”

      Mallory frowned. “Am I boring you? I mean, do you really need all this for your investigation?”

      He shrugged. “Maybe...if it turns out that Brock really has something to do with the fire, it could be helpful.”

      She stared blankly across the room, as if trying to remember what she’d been saying. “Okay...so, anyway, I was totally honest with Brock right from the start. I told him that I was an old-fashioned girl and that I wanted to take things slowly. I figured that would turn him off because I knew he had a reputation for being a ladies’ man. I thought it would send him running.”

      “But it didn’t?”

      “No. Looking back, I actually think he saw it as a challenge, like he could make me change.”

      “That makes sense.” Logan tried to listen impartially, pretending not to be rankled by what he was hearing as she continued to talk about the early days of their dating relationship. It sounded as if Brock had done all the expected things—he gave her flowers and gifts, took her out regularly.

      “But sometimes it seemed his attentions were as much for him as they were for me,” she explained. “Sort of like he wanted to show off. Like it was always important that I would receive roses at work and he expected me to display them on my desk for a couple of days so that all the girls could see them. They would ooh and aah and act jealous.” She clenched her fists in her lap. “What they didn’t know was that Brock was becoming more and more controlling of me. He would tell me what to wear on a date. How to act and talk and walk. Like I was his little robot girlfriend. And if I questioned him, he would get irked. And the more we dated, the more intense it became. If I didn’t comply, or if I questioned him, he could get really angry.”

      “Did he ever hit you?”

      She pursed her lips. “Not exactly hit per se. But sometimes he would shove me really hard. You know, like up against a wall. I got a lump on the back of my head more than once. And if he was really angry, he’d pin me against a wall, shouting into my face.”

      “That’s terrible. I can’t believe you’d put up with that.”

      “Believe me, the first time he was abusive, I was ready to leave. But he was so apologetic and broken up over it the next day. He swore it would never happen again. I gave him a second chance and he kept his word...for a while.”

      “And then?”

      “It started up again. After a couple of weeks, he lost his temper with me again. He told me he was stressed over work and that he was really sorry. And I stupidly rationalized that it was a one-time thing—even though it wasn’t the first time.” She shook her head. “But the next time it happened, there was no real excuse. And it felt even more intense than the others—and hateful. It was like someone pulled his trigger and he went off. Well, I guess I pulled his trigger. But the way he apologized afterwards, the way he brought me flowers and candy to work...well, it made me think this might be a pattern with him. Like maybe he’d done it before—in other relationships.”

      “Did you ask him about that?”

      “I did. I’d done some research on domestic and dating violence for a news piece I was working on. And it was like reading about Brock. Like the writing was on the wall. When I confronted him with my findings and asked him about his past relationships, he got defensive and indignant. Somehow he made it look like I was the one with the problem. Like I had stepped over some line.”

      “But you still didn’t dump the jerk?”

      “I was seriously getting ready to, but based on what I’d read, I felt like I needed to do it carefully. I worked out this plan where I thought I was going to slowly cut him loose. Distancing myself, ignoring his calls. But he showed up at my apartment one night, demanding to know what was wrong. I admitted I was done, and he got enraged. He grabbed me and wrapped his hands around my neck like he was going to strangle me.” She shuddered. “He told me he could kill me—he said it would be easy.”

      Logan felt a wave a shock run through him. “So you broke it off then?”

      She nodded. “That was in late May.”

      “And how did he handle that?”

      “He was furious. And for a while he was actually stalking me. He kept his eye on me at work. One time I caught him reading something on my computer. I’d spy him driving by my apartment complex occasionally. And he’d leave me lots of text messages, saying how much he loved me and telling me that I’d come back to him eventually. Really creepy. But at work he acted like he was the one to break it off with me, and he started a rumor that we were getting back together. It was weird.”

      “Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Sounds weird to me, too.”

      “So...anyway... I’ve been apprehensive of him for quite a while. And then...well, just this week, I became downright fearful.”

      The sound of someone knocking on the front door made Mallory jump toward him, clutching Logan’s arm with a look of real terror. But it seemed like such an extreme reaction that Logan wasn’t sure it really matched what she’d just told him. Certainly she should be worried about being threatened by someone. But this fear seemed deeper, so much so that Logan wondered if she had told him everything.

      “It’s just TJ,” he assured her as he looked out the window. “One of my firefighters.” He hurried to open the door.

      “Something out here you should see, Chief.” TJ jerked his thumb over a shoulder. “We think we found the cause of the fire.”

      “Human?”

      “Oh, yeah.”

      “I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” Logan returned to where Mallory was still huddled in a corner of the couch and, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, he peered intently into her eyes. “I know you’ve been through some sort of serious ordeal, Mallory. And I want to hear the whole story, but I really think you need to get some rest first. Are you going to be okay here? Or do you want to go to town and—”

      “I’ll be fine here,” she assured him.

      Logan was uncertain.

      “Go ahead, find out about the fire stuff,” she told him. “Really, I’ll be okay.”

      “Maybe so. But I think I’ll just stick around the place while you’re resting.”

      “You don’t need to do that.” But even as she said this, her eyes said something different. Her eyes seemed to be pleading with him to stay. And that’s what he intended to do.

      “It’ll take a while for me to complete my investigation,” he assured her. “Long enough for you to have a good long nap. At least a few hours. And by then I’ll have more questions for you.” He held up his cell phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. Just in case you need to call me while I’m