The Alibi Read Online Free PDF Page A

give one
    a fighting chance against mosquitoes. Frogs croaked
    in the dense undergrowth lining the riverbank. Cicadas
    sang from the low-hanging, moss-strewn
    branches of the sheltering live oak trees.
    "Nice out here," Hammond remarked.
    "Hmm. I'm surprised no one else has discovered
    it."
    "I reserved it so we could have it all to ourselves."
    She laughed. They had laughed a lot in the last
    couple hours while sampling the high-caloric fares of
    the food vendors and walking aimlessly from booth
    to booth. They had admired home-canned peaches
    and string beans, got a lesson on the latest in workout
    equipment, and tried out the cushioned seats of high-tech
    tractors. He had won a miniature teddy bear for
    her at a baseball toss. She had declined to try on a
    wig, although the saleswoman had been very persuasive.
    They had taken a ride on the Ferris wheel. When
    their car stopped at the summit and swayed precariously,
    Hammond had felt downright giddy. It was one
    of the most carefree moments he could remember
    since . . .
    He couldn't remember a more carefree moment.
    The tethers that kept him grounded so securely-- people, work, obligations--seemed to have been
    snipped. For a few minutes he had been floating free.
    He had felt free to enjoy the thrill of being suspended
    high above the fairgrounds. Free to enjoy a lightheartedness
    he rarely experienced anymore. Free to
    enjoy the company of a woman he had met less than
    two hours ago.
    Spontaneously he turned to her now and asked, "Are you married?"
    She laughed and ducked her head even as she
    shook it. "So much for subtlety."
    "Subtlety wasn't doing it for me."
    "No, I'm not married. Are you?"
    "No." Then, "Whew! I'm glad we got that clarified."
    Raising her head, she looked across at him, smiling.
    "So am I."
    Then they stopped smiling and just looked at each
    other. The stare stretched into seconds, then moments,
    long, still, quiet moments on the outside, but
    clamorous where emotions were housed.
    For Hammond it was one of those once-in a lifetime if you're-lucky
    moments. The kind that even
    the most talented movie directors and actors can't
    quite capture on film. The kind of connecting moment
    that poets and songwriters try to describe in
    their compositions, but never quite nail. Up till now,
    Hammond had been under the misconception that
    they'd done a fair job of it. Only now did he realize
    how miserably they had failed.
    How could one, anyone, describe the instant when
    it all comes together? How to describe that burst of
    clarity when one knows that his life has only just now
    begun, that everything that's happened before was rot
    compared to this, and that nothing will ever be the
    same again? The elusive answers to all the questions
    ceased to matter, and he realized that the only truth he
    really needed to know was right here, right now. This
    moment.
    He had never felt like this in his life.
    Nobody had ever felt like this.
    He was still rocking on the top car of the Ferris
    wheel and he never wanted to come down.
    Just as he said, "Will you dance with me again?"
    she said, "I really need to go."
    "Go?" "Dance?"
    They spoke at the same time again, but Hammond
    overrode her. "Dance with me again. I wasn't in top
    form last time, what with the Marine Corps watching
    my every step."
    She turned her head and looked in the direction of
    the parking lot on the far side of the fairgrounds.
    He didn't want to press her. Any attempt at coercion
    probably would send her running. But he couldn't let
    her go. Not yet. "Please?"
    Her expression full of uncertainty, she looked back
    at him, then gave him a small smile. "All right. One
    dance."
    They stood up. She started for the steps, but he
    reached for her hand and brought her around.
    "What's wrong with here?"
    She pulled in a breath, released it slowly, shakily.
    "Nothing, I guess."
    He hadn't touched her since their last dance, short
    of placing his hand lightly on the small of her back to
    guide her around a