The Alibi Man

Chapter 49

“You don’t believe me,” Barbaro said.

“I don’t trust you,” I corrected him. “It’s a conundrum. If you’ve just told me the truth, then you’ve admitted you’re a liar.”

“I don’t want to believe Bennett killed Irina,” he said. “Why would I tell you his alibi is a lie if it was not the truth?”

“I’ve known you three days, Juan,” I said. “As I keep reminding you, I met you only because a girl was murdered and you’re one of the involved parties. I don’t know anything about you, aside from the obvious. You could have your own agenda. For all I know, you leave a trail of victims everywhere you go. Bennett could be a convenient scapegoat.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Is it?

“But you believe Bennett killed Irina,” he pointed out.

“I want to believe he did it. I want him to go to prison and sit there for the rest of his life, knowing that he didn’t get away with anything in the end,” I said. “But if I want that so badly, I overlook a truth I don’t want to see, then Irina doesn’t get justice.”

He stared down at me in silence for a moment, as if he were trying to decipher a piece of modern art. Finally, he said, “I see that you are one of the most extraordinary women-people-I have ever met. You make me want to be a better man, Elena.”

“Wow,” I said. “I guess I should think more highly of myself.”

He reached out and touched the right side of my face, and it seemed each of his fingertips contained a slight electrical charge. I wondered if he had any idea how powerful his touch was, how strong that animal magnetism. Even not quite trusting him, I felt the warm rush of attraction.

“He hurt you very badly,” he whispered.

I didn’t tell him that Bennett Walker wasn’t the first man to hurt me, or the last, or that there was scarcely a man in my life who hadn’t-or that the ones who hadn’t yet had the opportunity would be headed off at the pass by me pushing them away. Or that he would be the next to join that club if he came too close.

“What goes around, comes around,” I said. “I’m a firm believer in revenge.”

His fingertips brushed the fine hair at the nape of my neck, and a chill went through me.

“I could make you forget him, Elena,” he said, his voice warm and soft, lowering his head until he was close enough to kiss me.

“I’m sure you could make me forget my own name,” I said, moving just out of his reach. “But not tonight.”

I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away from him. I could feel his touch on my skin long after that.