I'll Be Watching You Read online

  After a pause, he said, “You aren’t digging again, are you?”

  “You thought she was up to something. If Elva was murdered, don’t you want to find out who did it and why?”

  “Not if it sullies her name and gets me killed in the process.” The warning in his voice was clear. “Sometimes the truth’s not worth knowing. If you mean it about staying here, let it go. You, especially you, have a lot more to lose by pointing fingers.”

  She walked into the kitchen and found a note from Zell, hydrogen peroxide and the tube of ointment. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m not going to point fingers at just anyone. I’m not going to speculate. I’m going to see what I can find out. I’ll see you tonight then.” She hung up before he could talk her out of seeing Ernest and leaned over to read the note.

  Kim, put another dose on those cuts. I heard Oscar making noises so I let him out. Also hung a shirt you can wear. Shar gave it to me for Christmas a couple of years ago. It’s too girly for me, so you can have it. Bye. He signed his name with a flourish. She smiled. Then frowned. Zell was obviously used to taking care of people. Now she had inadvertently come under his care. Exactly what he didn’t want.

  It was strange being in his house alone. Like they’d shared some intimacy the night before. Like they’d had wild, crazy, heavy-breathing sex. Not that she knew what that was like. Outside the windows she caught a glimpse of decking, and off to one side was a large barbeque grill and picnic bench. He’d left it unscreened so it wouldn’t obliterate the view, no doubt. She wondered what it was like to wake up to a sea of golden marsh prairie every day. She glanced up at the bedroom loft and decided that thinking about regularly waking up here was not a good idea.

  “Come on, Oscar, let’s go home.” She’d take a shower there.

  She bundled up the sheets, found the small utility room, and started a load of laundry. She jotted a thank you on Zell’s note and let him know about the load in the washer. As soon as she opened the front door to leave, she came face to face with Charlotte Macgregor. Perfect, just perfect.

  She’d been touching the stuffed alligator, probably trying to figure out if it was real. At the sight of Kim, she popped straight up and her face went white. “What are you doing here? And wearing Zell’s clothes?” She looked around Kim. “Is he here?” She wore a flowered summer short set that accented her trim figure and made her look as fresh as a hothouse flower. At least until she whipped out a cigarette and lit it, as though she needed fortification at the sight of Kim.

  “No, he had a job to do. This isn’t what it looks like.” A trite line, she knew, but accurate. “Smitty and I were assaulted at the bar last night.”

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “I know, that’s why I came over, to see if Zell was all right and to find out what the hell happened. Knew you were involved somehow.” She looked Kim up and down. “Didn’t realize just how involved.”

  Kim might have told her to mind her own damn business, but she’d caused Zell enough trouble without even trying. “Billy Bob and Clem jumped me and Smitty as we left the bar. Zell happened to be driving by and stopped to help. He insisted Smitty and I come here so he could see to our cuts. He let me stay the night in the guest bedroom when he saw how tired I was. That’s all there is to it.”

  Charlotte crossed her arms and tapped her long, now gold-flecked nails against her arms. Trails of smoke followed her movements. “You in love with my brother?”

  “No.” She was trying really hard not to be, anyway. “He’s not my type of guy.” Not even close.

  “You sure? Because you could get him in a lot of trouble with his family. He doesn’t need a woman who causes him problems, know what I mean?”

  “Sure do.” Kim stepped farther out and closed the door. Oscar had already meandered out to her truck. Despite their past, she was beginning to like Zell too much to cause him trouble. Especially with his family. “See you later.” She started to walk past, but Charlotte’s words stopped her.

  “Are you all right?” She didn’t have the gleam of someone who wanted gossip. She looked sincere.

  Kim showed her the backs of her arms, the bruised knuckles Zell had brushed against his mouth, and finally the back of her head. “I’ll be okay. Smitty took a hit on the head.” At Charlotte’s widened eyes, she added, “He’s okay, too. Billy Bob and Clem are in jail.” She found that talking about it made her edgy. “I have to get going.”

  She felt sloppy around Charlotte, and it didn’t help that she watched Kim give Oscar the heave-ho to get him into the truck. When she walked around to the driver’s side, Charlotte said, “You ought to come around when the baby gators start hatching. It’s the most precious thing you’ll ever see, even if you don’t like gators.”

  Kim was so startled by the invitation she didn’t immediately say Forget that. “I’ll take your word on the precious part. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Charlotte watched her back around and head down the road, a contemplative expression on her face. Even as a teenager, Charlotte hadn’t been easy to read. As pretty as she was, she could cut someone down with a tongue that could be rapier-sharp one minute and honey-sweet the next. So why did Kim feel touched that Charlotte had asked how she was? After moving to Heron’s Glen, she had wanted to earn her stepsister’s friendship. Strange how she kind of felt that way again.

  “Just what we need,” she said to Oscar. “To become friends with the Macgregors.”

  A part of her did need that, though, as much as she wanted to deny it. That sense of home and belonging pulled at her like a drink pulled at an alcoholic. It was bound to cause problems, though. Winnerow would never forgive her…and she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him either.

  Kim had showered, changed, and started unpacking some of her boxes. She replaced some of Elva’s paintings with her framed prints of the Everglades. Her bottle of Tequila earned a special place on the mantel. She added her pictures to Elva’s. She opened some of the Good Housekeeping and Better Homes and Gardens magazines to the pages where she’d bent down the corners and eyed several places in the house that needed decorating improvement. She jotted down a list of things to get at the hardware store in the near future.

  “Oh, Simon.” He’d thrown her philodendron and fern in one of the boxes. They’d tipped sideways and their roots were exposed. She stuffed them back into their pots, gave them a good watering, and set them out on the porch.

  At noon, she was ready to head out to Ernest’s place when JoGene’s truck pulled into her drive. The sight brought back old memories when seeing him pull in made her heart do a little dance. Now she wondered how much he knew about the previous night’s events and if Charlotte would be out telling people that Kim had spent the night with Zell. Or for that matter, Smitty could be enjoying telling that tale, since the old coot liked to blab.

  Like a watchdog, Oscar walked right over to JoGene when he stepped out of his truck and checked him out. “Hey, Oscar,” JoGene said, giving the pig a scratch on the head. He was dressed up, wearing new jeans and one of those western-style shirts with the opalescent buttons. “Hey, Kim.”

  Luckily, she wasn’t wearing Zell’s shirt, which would have been a giveaway since he was the only one in town who wore those bright shirts. “Hey, JoGene.”

  “You look good,” he said, nodding toward her white pants and gray shirt.

  “Ah, thanks.” She’d purposely dressed in her least attractive outfit after last night.

  “Stopped by the bar, but Smitty said you’d taken some time off. You doing okay?”

  Thank goodness he hadn’t said anything about her being at Zell’s. It didn’t surprise her that he knew about the assault. Probably everybody in town did by now. “I’m fine as long as they keep those two creepoids in jail. Bet your dad’s mad at me for getting them put away.”

  He waved away his dad and jammed the tips of his fingers in his front pockets. “He’s mad about everything. I told him to lay off you.”

  Kim wasn’t exactly com
forted. “You’re standing your ground with him. Good for you.”

  Determination gleamed in his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Glad those two didn’t do more than put a few scrapes on you. They’ll probably think better of it sitting in jail.”

  “I hope so. I was just heading out.” She hoped he’d get to the point.

  “Want some company?”

  No way did she want JoGene knowing what she was up to. “I’m taking care of some personal business, but thanks anyway.” She waved Oscar to the passenger side of the truck. “What brings you out here?”

  He swallowed hard and grabbed hold of her arm. “I’m scared for you, Kim. Billy Bob and Clem, they’re the beginning. They’re not the ones that vandalized your bar; they were out with my dad that night.”

  She tried to pull free of his grip without making a big deal of it but couldn’t. “If you know something—”

  “I couldn’t rat on someone, Kim.” He tightened his hold on her. “I can tell you that there are people in this town who don’t want you here. People who’d do anything to run you out now that you’re snooping around Elva’s death. They think you’re here to cause trouble again. They’re mad at Zell for interfering last night. I don’t want you hurt, or worse. You need to leave, the sooner the better. Cut your losses, sell out, and go. No matter what happened ten years ago, I still care about you.” He finally loosened his grip and awkwardly put his hand on her shoulder.

  She resisted the urge to step back. “Who, JoGene? Who wants me out?”

  “Plenty of folks. I can tell my dad not to mess with you, but I don’t know how long I can hold him off. Wharton wants you gone. Owen says Winn’s real edgy about you being back. Even Owen, out of loyalty. Speaking of, Zell might seem like your friend, but don’t forget he’s a Macgregor. He may do what he damn well pleases, but you ain’t got a future with him.”

  That last stung because she knew it was true. “There’s nothing between us.”

  “For all you know, he might be spying, seeing what you’re up to.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze and let go. “I hope you do. I’m only thinking of your best interests, and staying alive is a good idea, don’t you think?”

  She waited for him to leave before getting into her truck. What did he have to gain by her leaving? Maybe Buck was giving him a hard time, the same way Zell’s family was giving him trouble over her. She hated not being able to trust anyone.

  She drove past Southern Comfort to make sure all was well. There wasn’t any sign of the scuffle the night before other than the skid marks from both Zell’s truck and the deputy’s vehicle. Since it was past two, the bar was closed and Smitty had obviously gone home.

  She headed south. The main road split off at the southernmost portion of town. To the right were the docks and her old neighborhood. To the left it crossed the Snake River. The RV park where Smitty lived was on the left, and the Gun and Rod Club was straight ahead. She veered right where the road turned to gravel and into the section known as Otter’s Tail. If it weren’t for the thick layer of mangroves buffering Otter’s Tail from the bay, the ramshackle homes here would have a great view. This was po’s po country, the poorest of the residents. This was where the Joneses carried on their illegal activities far from the eye of the law or anyone else who cared.

  The homes were spread out among the thick forest of cypress. The road here wasn’t even gravel, just hard-packed dirt with water-filled ruts. Despite the road and ramshackle homes, the area was beautiful in its own way. Majestic old cypress trees were covered in air plants and draped in moss, their knobby knees protruding from the waterlogged areas. Like the vastness of Zell’s marsh prairie and solitude of her hammock, this place made her feel far, far from civilization.

  A rusty old washing machine sitting on the corner of the first street brought her back. Several yards from the road sat the ghost of an old truck grown over with weeds and vines. The houses were set way off the main road.

  Kim remembered coming here after Rhonda’s death to visit Ernest. He and his mother had lived in his grandmother’s house. Ernest wouldn’t be that quiet little boy anymore. He’d be almost a man now, left with a bitter legacy. His grandmother had passed on a few years earlier. Ernest was now living in his childhood home as an emancipated minor.

  His house was on the end of what could barely be considered a street considering the three inches of water that covered most of its surface. She had no idea how she’d be received, but surely he’d remember her and what she’d done for his mother.

  A light green truck roughly in the same shape as the one she’d spotted in the weeds sat in front of the small house. The hood was up, and she saw someone working on it. The young man peered around the hood as her truck splashed down his driveway. He was a nice-looking guy, with blond hair and startling blue eyes that were narrowed suspiciously as he approached her. No one knew who his father was; Rhonda had kept her mouth shut on that.

  “You stay in here, Oscar,” she said, waving to the young man. She stepped out and tried to place that boy’s face against the one she saw now. “Ernest?”

  “Yeah? Who’re you?”

  “Kim Lyons.”

  She waited until the recognition dawned on his blunt features. “Kim, yeah, I remember you. You left town on account of…well, everything that happened.” He wiped his hands on his faded jeans. “You come to see me?”

  “Yeah.” She took in the place. Not too bad, considering. At least there wasn’t a toilet in the front yard like the first house on the street. “How are you doing?”

  “Gettin’ by. Heard you was back in town. Sorry about your grandma.”

  She gave him the opportunity to say more, but he didn’t. “Thanks. I’m going to miss her.”

  He ran his hand across his perspiring forehead, leaving a smudge behind. “Me, too.”

  “I understand you were friends.”

  “Ah, I don’t know that you’d call us friends. We didn’t hang out or anything like that. But she was good to me.”

  She leaned casually against the fender of his truck. “Ernest—”

  “They call me Ernie now.”

  “Okay, Ernie, I need your help on something. I need you to tell me the truth.”

  “Suppose I owe you that, after all you did for my mama. Even if they didn’t get a conviction.”

  She’d failed. She remembered his face when Winn had been proclaimed not guilty. He’d been sitting with his grandmother during most of the trial. “Sometimes murderers get away. It’s not fair, but it happens. Maybe a little too often. Ernest—Ernie, I need to ask you something. Elva was coming to see you before she died. Every month, Grace said.” When he nodded, she continued. “She was buying something from you.”

  He ran his arm across his forehead again. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it. Elva made me promise.”

  “I’m sure she did, but she’s dead now. I’m her granddaughter, and I’m looking for some answers. There are payments on the books at the bar, and I’m trying to figure out what they’re for. Did she borrow money from you?”

  He made a sound between a laugh and a snort. “Me loan someone money? I don’t think so.”

  “She wasn’t buying anything from you?”

  “Ain’t got nothing to sell neither. She was just giving it to me, I swear.”

  He looked uncomfortable, shifting and fidgeting. She out-waited him, and finally he said, “She come here a few months back, out of the blue, and gave me two-hundred-fifty dollars. No explanation or nothing. She came the next month and did it again. Someone don’t give you that kind of money for nothing, right? I wouldn’t let her leave until she told me, and she made me promise not to tell anyone.” He agonized over it for a few more seconds. “She said the money was coming from the person that killed my mama. She said they owed it to me.”

  Kim couldn’t talk for a moment. “Elva gave you money from the person who killed Rhonda,” she clarified. “You said ‘t
hey.’”

  “She wouldn’t say who it was, or if it was one person or more. At first I thought it was nice of ’em to give me money like that. I figured they must’a felt guilty.”

  The payments of five hundred dollars—they weren’t outgoing, they were incoming. Elva was collecting the money and giving half to Ernie and half to Zell in payment for the loan. “Oh, God, she was blackmailing Rhonda’s murderer.”

  He raised his hands. “I don’t know nothing about blackmail. She gave me the money and said it was owed to me and I’d be seeing it for two years. Told me not to tell anybody about it. Not even Gracie knows. She seen Elva out here once, but I wouldn’t tell her why. When Elva died, I got kinda worried that it had something to do with that money, but I couldn’t tell nobody. Then I kinda pushed it out of my mind because it was uncomfortable thinking about it.”

  Kim drooped against the truck. This was not what she’d expected. Elva knew who had murdered Rhonda, but how had she found out? She’d likely never know. Kim remembered the messy files. The murderer had been looking for something, probably whatever evidence Elva was holding over his head. Then he’d killed her and made it look like an accident. She rubbed her hand over her face as she tried to comprehend it all. Once again, Tullie was right; the truth was looking worse and worse. She glanced up at Ernie. “No one knows about this?”

  “Nope. No one but you, me, and Elva, her being in the past tense nowadays.”

  She pushed away from the truck with shaky arms. “Keep it that way. Don’t even tell anyone I came here.”

  As she walked away, he asked, “It was an accident, what happened to Elva, wasn’t it? I’d hate to think it was because of her getting that money to me.”

  “Yeah, it was an accident.” She was surer than ever that it wasn’t an accident.

  When she pulled back onto the road, she spotted another vehicle way up ahead, though she couldn’t see what it was. From a distance, it looked like the cypress trees flanking the road eventually closed it up completely. Once she reached the gravel portion of the road, she saw no other vehicle.