The Alibi Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

blonde from the NBC affiliate in West Palm. “Detective, what can you tell us about the victim? What can you tell us about the murder?”
    “I can’t tell you anything about the victim, and we don’t know yet that this is homicide,” he said. “The ME will determine cause of death.”
    “But clearly the body was dismembered,” the woman said.
    “We don’t know when that happened. We don’t know how long the body has been in the water.”
    “Are you saying this is another alligator attack?”
    Excitement swept through the group, raising voices, as if some poor soul being eaten alive by a giant reptile was a better story than a regular person-on-person murder. The media seemed to want to promote the idea that the alligators were conspiring to take back their habitat, like something from a bad horror movie.
    Three area residents had recently died in separate incidents with gators. One swimming in a pond, one walking a dog on a jogging path along a canal, and a drunk who had the misfortune of passing out on the bank of another canal within easy striking distance for the predator. Even if he’d been conscious, the drunk probably wouldn’t have gotten away. An alligator can charge short distances as fast as thirty-five mph, nearly as fast as a thoroughbred racehorse running full out.
    “No, I didn’t say that,” Landry said.
    “But it could have been?”
    It could have been aliens,
he wanted to say, but sarcasm was not looked on with a sense of humor in the sheriff’s office.
    “I can’t speculate as to the cause of death” was what he said. “At this point we have no idea how the young woman died or how she came to be here. The sheriff’s office will be releasing a sketch of the victim later today, and we’ll ask for help from the public in trying to ascertain her whereabouts the last few hours of her life.”
    “A young woman?”
    “How old?”
    “Who was she?”
    “Have you found the murder weapon?”
    “Was she sexually assaulted?”
    “We won’t know that until the autopsy is complete,” Landry said.
    The blonde leaned ahead of the pack. “Who found the body?”
    “A local resident.”
    “Will you release his name?”
    “No.”
    “When will you be able to give us more information?”
    “When we have some,” Landry snapped. “Now you’ll have to move the vehicles so we can get on with it. We’re burning daylight.”

chapter 6
              THE SUV in the photo of the tailgating party had vanity plates. STAR POLO 1 .
    The best polo in the world is played in Wellington, Florida, during the winter months. Big-money-sponsored teams. Players with rock-star status. The ultrarich, the ultrapowerful, the ultrafamous filled the stands at the International Polo Club every Sunday. Early rounds of tournaments were played all week long on the fields stacked one after the next behind the main stadium.
    I had a passing familiarity with the sport, having dated several completely inappropriate men involved in it back in the days when pissing off my father was a priority in my life. By reputation, polo players are wild, passionate, aggressive, hot-tempered, unfaithful, and their riding skills are not limited to polo ponies.
    There were plenty of women in Wellington who believed a mad hot affair with a polo player was just the thing to spice up life. Perhaps Irina had been one of them.
    Not interested in sticking around for the arrival of Landry and his team, I got in my car and drove into town, still in my riding clothes and smelling of stale sweat and horses. No one would look at me twice. Half the population of the town went around that way every day during season.
    Still, I felt vulnerable and self-conscious, as if anyone looking at me would know instantly what had gone on that morning. I jammed a black baseball cap on my head and put on a pair of dark sunglasses and went into the Tackeria.
    The Tackeria, located in a strip mall on Wellington Trace, was a tack shop and social hub where horse