Free A Fatal Slip by Melissa Glazer Page B

were signed up for classes this summer yourself. You know the agreement we made with your mother. You can’t put the pottery shop before your education.”
    He looked at me as though he’d expected me to raise that particular objection. “That’s the beauty of it. Both girls work as waitresses at night, so this would be in the mornings. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
    “Fun for you.”
    “Income for you,” David countered.
    “I won’t pay you extra for teaching,” I said, reaching for one last straw to discourage him.
    “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said with a big grin. “What do you say?”
    I was all out of objections. “Fine. We’ll try it, but if it doesn’t work out, I’m reserving the right to pull the plug at any moment.”
    “Fair enough.”
    Another thought struck me. “Have you run this past Annie? How’s she going to feel about you teaching pottery lessons to coeds?”
    He shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. She cleans every day anyway, so it’s not like I’ll be taking time away from her.”
    “That’s not what I meant,” I said.
    “Everything’s okay,” he said, blowing off my comment.
    Fine. It was his love life; he could take care of it himself. In the meantime, I had to prepare myself for Robert Owens’s wrath. I loved having his work associated with Fire at Will, but his night classes hadn’t been the boon I’d hoped for when I’d hired him, probably because he was so reluctant to actually teach many classes. I had enough on my mind without worrying about a pampered potter’s feelings.
    The front door chimed, and Sheriff Hodges walked in, the usual scowl plastered on his face. David discreetly faded into the back room, and I didn’t blame him a bit.
    “Where were you?” he asked without any preamble.
    “Do you mean when you came by earlier? I was on my lunch break. You were gone when I got back. I figured it must not have been that important, or you would have waited for me.”
    “I’ve got better things to do than stand around here wondering if you’re even coming back to your own shop.”
    I matched his scowl with one of my own. “What is it you wanted? Contrary to what you might think, I’ve got a business to run.”
    “I need an alibi,” he said.
    “My husband already told you where he was,” I snapped. “If you want anything else, talk to him.”
    “I’m not talking about him. I mean you.”
    I could barely contain my shock. “Do you honestly think I killed Charlie Cobb? Sheriff, don’t you think it’s time to go ahead and retire? Surely you can get by on a partial pension, and it’s pretty obvious your heart’s not in it anymore.” Everyone in Maple Ridge knew that Sheriff Hodges was hanging on to his job long enough to qualify for full retirement benefits, but to my knowledge, nobody had ever called him on it to his face. Until now.
    His expression shut down, and I immediately regretted my choice of words. There was no apologizing or backing down now, though.
    His next words stabbed at me like a knife. “Where were you when Cobb died?”
    “I was with Hannah Atkins, Rose Nygren, and Shelly Ensign during different parts of the evening. Go talk to them. I know they’ll back me up.”
    He frowned. “You were with all three of them?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Was there ever a time after four in the afternoon that you were by yourself?”
    I thought about it and realized that there were some blocks that were unaccounted for. “They weren’t shadowing me the entire time,” I admitted.
    “So your alibi isn’t as solid as you’d like me to believe.” The man was fishing, and I wasn’t about to rise to the bait.
    “If I needed an alibi, do you think I would admit that there were gaps? Go away, Sheriff, and don’t bother coming back until you have something more than wild guesses about who killed Charlie Cobb.”
    He stared at me a few seconds, but my return gaze didn’t flicker. With a brief nod, he dismissed me, then he