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about seeing someone in the park, Picklemann was probably dead before you talked to Hazel.”
    “But I didn’t kill him. Maybe someone else saw me.”
    “We can do some checking. I wouldn’t put a lot of faith in the search. You moved around a lot. It will be hard to find anyone who can provide an alibi that covers a long enough time span. Then, we have another problem. What, exactly, did you tell Lawson about going home after cleaning up the alley?”
    “Just that I went home before going back to the park.”
    “And he didn’t ask why?” Adam’s eyes narrowed.
    “No.” I peered at his tightening expression. “You’re starting to scare me with the way you’re looking at me.”
    “Sorry, but obviously you haven’t realized that Lawson will think you washed your shirt to get rid of any evidence of killing Bud.”
    I jumped up. “I had a reason for washing it. A good one.”
    “I know you did, but think about this from the police chief’s point of view. You fight with Picklemann , no one sees you for a few hours, and when someone does, you’ve changed your clothes. While your dirty clothes are spinning away in the washer, Picklemann is found dead.”
    “So we don’t tell him about it.”
    “By tomorrow, he’ll have had time to think about what you’ve already told him, so he’ll be certain to ask about it. You can’t lie to him.”
    “But it makes me look guilty and I’m innocent!”
    “I believe you, Paige, but the police aren’t going to take your word at face value. You’ll need proof of your innocence.”
    “How about the e-mail you sent?” Lisa came around the counter and laid her hand on my shoulder. “We can get your laptop. That’ll prove you were in your office.”
    Adam held up a hand. “Don’t bother. Even if the e-mail is on your hard drive—might not be depending on the type of account you have—it’ll only prove you were there for the few minutes it took to send the message.” Adam looked at Lisa. “How long would it take Paige to get from her shop to the park and back?”
    “Ten, fifteen minutes at most,” Lisa said.
    “Wait, are you saying I went back to the park and killed Bud?”
    “I’m saying we have two hours to account for and a five minute e-mail won’t cover it all.” He looked at his notes. “How about the phone call for the fencing? Did you use the landline?”
    “No, I have free long-distance on my cell.”
    “A call you could have made from anywhere,” Adam said, letting his tone fall off as if he was thinking.
    “I was at The Garden Gate then.” My frustration over not being able to prove where I was spilled out, and I pounded on the counter. “They have to believe me.”
    “Wait,” Lisa shouted. “I talked to you, remember?”
    “I used my cell again.”
    “Like I said,” Adam’s brow furrowed, “the only time you have a concrete alibi is when you talked to Hazel, roughly
one o’clock
. You better hope Picklemann was killed around that time.”
    As if God sent down an answer, Perry returned. “I struck out with Lawson. He told me it was none of my business.”
    “Technically, he’s right,” Adam said. “This isn’t the sort of information the police release early on in an investigation.”
    “Oh, they released it,” Perry said with a coy smile. “I called a buddy of mine on the force. This is off the record, and he’ll deny saying it if we go public, but according to him the body temp indicates Picklemann had been dead for an hour or two when Paige found him. Looks like they’ll place the time of death between eleven and twelve.”
    I looked from one person to another. The very thing I was thinking lay on their faces like a case of black spot invading my prize roses. I was cleaning up the alley during that time. No one could vouch for my whereabouts. I had no alibi.

Chapter Six
    “And now, enjoy the best of Through the Garden Gate with your beloved host, Paige Turner.”
    “Paige, this is Solitary. I was wondering if you