Deep Waters

of his life, and he enjoyed the respect of the townsfolk.
    "Good morning, Hank. I heard you had arrested Newlin, but it looks like the rumors were wrong."
    The lines around Hank's eyes creased slightly as he eyed Newlin. "Just wanted to talk to him. Going to have to talk to a lot of people today. Thought I'd start with young Newlin, here."
    Newlin's mouth tightened. "Chief Tybern says it would sure help if I could find someone who saw me in my truck between eleven-thirty and a few minutes before midnight."
    "My God." Charity glanced uneasily at Hank. "You need an alibi?"
    Hank settled his bulk against the front desk. "No call to get excited, Charity. Just be helpful if we could find someone who noticed him in that truck during the half hour before twelve."
    Charity thought quickly. "Elias Winters and I went to talk to him right around midnight." She broke off abruptly and gazed helplessly at Hank. "And?" Hank prompted gently. "I wasn't in the truck," Newlin muttered. "I told you, a couple of minutes before midnight I got out of the truck and went to join the crowd waiting at the top of the beach path. I wanted to find Arlene. And I did. She was on her way to confront Gwendolyn Pitt. I went with her. By the time we got to the motor home, Rick Swinton and a couple of the other Voyagers had already found Pitt's body."
    "Unfortunately, that still leaves plenty of time unaccounted for," Hank said softly. "Like the half hour before midnight, during which time someone went into Gwendolyn's trailer and shot her."
    "Wait a minute." Charity spun back to Newlin.
    "You said you waited inside the truck until a couple of minutes before midnight?"
    Newlin shrugged. "Figured there was no point freezin' my butt off hanging over the campground fence until the show was over, I knew Arlene wouldn't be coming back from the beach until she was convinced the spaceships weren't going to arrive."
    "The people in the other pick-up," Charity said swiftly.
    Hank looked at her. "What people?"
    "I don't know who they were, but they were parked just behind Newlin. A young couple. Teenagers, maybe. Or a little older. College age. I didn't see them, but I heard them. They had the radio on, and the door on one side of the truck was open. Maybe one of them noticed exactly when Newlin left to find Arlene."
    Hank's frown was thoughtful. "Don't suppose you happened to get a license number?"
    "Of course not. I wasn't thinking about alibis at that time." Charity tried to remember every detail. "The kids were, uh, doing what you'd expect a young couple of that age to be doing in the front of a pick-up."
    "Making out?" Newlin asked with honest innocence.
    Charity cleared her throat. "Well, yes."
    "Color of the truck?" Hank asked.
    "It was midnight, remember? And foggy." Charity wracked her brain to summon an image of the truck. "It was dark. The truck, I mean. Newlin's pick-up is a light color, and I spotted it easily. I didn't even notice the other pick-up until I heard voices and the radio. The cab light inside was off. Maybe Elias will be able to give you more information."
    Hank nodded. "I'll ask him when I see him this afternoon."
    "Wait a second," Charity said. "I heard the girl call the guy Kevin. Does that help?"
    "Kevin. Dark pick-up. College age." Hank nodded, straightened, and reached for the phone book. "That'd likely be Kevin Gadson. He's home from college for the summer, and he's seeing the Turner girl. His Dad's got a dark green pick-up."
    One of the advantages of small towns, Charity thought, as she watched Hank dial the number he found in the book. The local chief of police knew everyone. And he knew their vehicles.
    Ten minutes later, after a short conversation with Kevin Gadson, Hank put down the phone and grinned cheerfully at Newlin. "You're in the clear, son. Kevin says he and his girlfriend had the radio on. He recalls seeing you in the pick-up several times during the half hour before midnight. You didn't leave until right after the start of the twelve o'clock news broadcast, which begins at five minutes before the hour. There wouldn't have been time for you to run clear across the campground and shoot Gwen Pitt."
    Newlin grinned with relief. "Hey. That's great." He turned to Charity. "Thanks. I owe you."
    Charity exhaled deeply. "I'm glad that's settled. Let's go, Newlin."
    "You bet." Newlin started toward the door. Hank folded his arms across his broad chest. "Going to be a busy day. Got a whole hell of a lot of people to