Chapter 3 — The Sister’s Defense — Then Text Messages Prove Allison Was Nowhere Near the Desk
Clara tapped the screen of her phone again.
The loyalty account profile loaded fully in front of her eyes.
“It is registered under Martha’s name,” Clara said, her voice dropping to a hard whisper.
Martha took a slow step backward until her hip bumped against the edge of the refrigerator.
“Anyone can sign up for a rewards card using a phone number,” Martha stammered.
“They just type it in at the register.”
Allison shook her head in disbelief.
“Martha, stop digging deeper,” Allison said.
“Clara, look at the timestamps on the bottom of that receipt.”
Clara tilted the paper toward the overhead pendant lights.
A precise time stamp was printed just above the barcode.
It read 1:45 PM.
“One forty-five,” Clara repeated, reading the numbers aloud.
“The money was taken from my office desk upstairs at exactly two o’clock,” Clara said.
“That is physically impossible,” Allison pointed out.
“How could Martha use money taken at two o’clock to pay for groceries purchased at one-forty-five?”
Clara stared down at the receipt.
She checked the time displayed on the kitchen wall clock.
It was currently two-fifteen.
“You couldn’t have bought these items with the stolen cash because the transaction happened fifteen minutes *before* the cash vanished,” Clara said, looking directly at Martha.
Martha opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“In fact,” Allison added, stepping right up to the kitchen island, “I have my own location history and bank statements right here on my phone.”
Allison tapped her phone screen and turned it toward Clara.
“I was across town at the hardware store buying replacement filters until two-ten,” Allison said.
“My digital parking receipt and store entry logs prove I was nowhere near this house all morning.”
Clara looked at Allison’s verified digital timeline.
The time logs matched up down to the exact minute.
Allison could not have placed the cash in the bag, because she had not even stepped foot through the front door until Clara had already rushed downstairs to confront the crying children.
Clara turned her gaze slowly back to Martha.
“If Allison was across town, and you claim you didn’t buy these groceries…” Clara began.
Clara stopped talking.
She looked at the black leather bag resting on the counter.
Only one person had been alone in this kitchen for the entire afternoon while the girls were upstairs.