I'll Be Watching You Page 27

  “Hello,” a man called from the front door. Kim didn’t recognize him, and judging by the dress shirt and tie, he surely didn’t live there.

  Amy walked over to him, a few steps ahead of Kim. “We’re closed.”

  “I’m William Berlin, from South Florida Liquor Distribution.” He nodded at Smitty, who was scraping up the last bits of broken glass behind the bar.

  “I’m Kim Lyons, Elva’s granddaughter. I own this place now. Boy, am I glad to see you. As you can see, we had some trouble last night. I’m going to need some basic stock to get me going again.”

  He squinted as though his hemorrhoids were acting up. “Actually, I’m here to collect payment for your last order. I’m supposed to collect on delivery, but Elva was a long-time customer and I gave her a few days to collect the money.”

  Kim glanced at Smitty for confirmation. He said, “She took money from the bar to build the hothouse, and it put her behind a little. The distributor had just come last week and stocked us up. Didn’t I mention he’d be coming for payment?”

  “No, Smitty, you neglected to mention that small detail.” She knew how the payment system worked. Unfortunately, she’d used most of her savings as a down payment on the truck. She pushed past the dread in her chest and put on her sweetest smile. “Mr. Berlin, I’m going to need a few more days—and some basic stock.”

  Berlin had been tracing his finger across the crack in the jukebox, which had gone silent a short time ago. “All your stock is gone?”

  “Every last bit. I won’t be able to afford a full bar right away, but I’ll need the basics.” If he’d only extend her a little more credit, she could raise the money.

  Berlin got the hemorrhoid look again. “Well, see, we have a problem. You’re already behind by one invoice. I can’t sell you any more until I’m paid for that, and for whatever you want to order now.”

  She held back all the nasty words that wanted to gush out of her mouth and took a deep breath to be absolutely sure they wouldn’t sneak out. “You extended credit to Elva.”

  He held up his hand, maybe to ward off the words he sensed were below the surface. “I’m not supposed to do even that. By law, I’m to collect payment upon delivery. Elva was a good customer for a number of years, so I gave her extra time once in a while. But she is not our customer any longer—you are. You’re an unknown quantity. The bottom line is, I can’t give you any stock until you’re paid in full.”

  “All I’m asking is that you reconsider. I’ve worked in bars for years, I’ve got a BA in business, and I know how to run one. This is the only real bar in town, and it’s a favorite of the locals.”

  He was backing toward the door, not a good sign. “I’m sorry, but I have to follow the law.” He bumped into the door. “Until you pay in cash for the last shipment and the next, I can’t give you one bottle. And I need payment on the last shipment right away.” He ducked out the door and walked briskly to his panel van. He didn’t even look back at her, just hopped in and quickly backed out of the lot.

  Rage and frustration coalesced to helpless defeat by the time the dust had settled in the parking lot. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Smitty standing beside her. “Wish I could help you, young’un.”

  “Me, too,” Amy said. “I’ve only got two dimes to rub together these days, but you can have ’em.”

  Kim was touched by their support. “Thanks. I’ll figure out a way, I swear I will. Until then, we’re going to have to close.” She hated that most of all, that someone out there would be enjoying watching her bar sit closed day after day. “If I can sell those damn orchids, I’d have the money.” Well, after she paid off Zell.

  They finished the bulk of the cleaning by the end of the day, and Kim paid them. It was dark by the time they walked out to their vehicles.

  “You gonna be all right?” Smitty asked after Amy had left.

  She felt her lower lip quiver and bit down on it. “I’ll be fine. I’m not going to let them win, Smitty. I can’t.”

  “You’re a lot like Elva, you know. When she got something in her head, she’d go after it no matter what. She’d never give up. If someone stepped on her, why, she’d brush off the dirt and keep on going.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and headed out to his small truck.

  Being compared to Elva was a compliment. She’d been a strong woman who had survived being an outsider, a divorced woman when being divorced wasn’t common, and the female owner of a bar when that wasn’t common either. Kim wasn’t completely sure he’d meant it as a compliment. After all, Elva had ended up dead.

  CHAPTER 20

  All it would take was a tug on the trigger and Kim would be dead. The end of the rifle was pointed right at her as she lay in bed, no doubt exhausted by all the cleaning she’d had to do that day. Even the pig was asleep.

  This would be the easy way of handling Kim. Pull the trigger, bang, and it’d be all over. Oscar started to stir. Okay, check out the rest of the house while he resettled into sleep. Take one last look to see if anything had been overlooked. Like that tiny piece of rubber glove. A stupid little thing, maybe not even incriminating, but still…it didn’t pay to take any chances, especially now that Kim was snooping around. A plastic baggie held the piece of the glove. It would disappear.

  The pig was standing in the doorway. Good thing it wasn’t a dog. Though Oscar didn’t bark, he let out a loud snort as his snout twitched. Pigs didn’t have good eyesight, but they had great noses—and he smelled an intruder.

  “Oscar?” Kim’s voice trailed from the bedroom.

  Damn. After a quick survey of the room, the closet seemed the best place to hide. The door had just closed when Kim’s voice sounded from the hallway.

  “What are you doing, sweetie-pig? You startled me.”

  Sweetie-pig, eh? Through the slats, Oscar could be seen walking into the room. Kim walked in, too, and looked around. She was carrying a small canister, probably tear gas. She opened the closet door. The coats must have covered everything, because she closed the door and padded into the hallway. More noises followed as she checked the living room and kitchen.

  It had been harder to get in now that Kim had changed the locks, but a rear window had proved easy enough to jigger open.

  A few minutes later, Kim’s voice: “Come on, Oscar. Let’s go back to bed.”

  It was silent again after a few minutes, but Kim was no doubt listening intently from her bed. Soon, though, she’d drop back to sleep, and it would be safe to leave the closet…after leaving one small gift for Kim.

  Kim was jarred out of sleep by the sound of a gun going off. She lurched out of bed, her heart slamming against her ribs. The sound had definitely come from inside. She grabbed her canister of tear gas that she kept beneath her pillow and went to search the house. Oscar went tearing past her out of the second bedroom, squealing wildly.

  What was happening?

  Early morning light crept into the house and spilled onto the floors. She could see droplets of blood in Oscar’s trail. “Oh, my God, Oscar. Oscar!”

  She looked into the bedroom he’d come from, expecting to see someone standing there holding a gun. Something struck her as odd, but she couldn’t place what it was. She checked the bathroom before she ran into the living room where Oscar had gone. He was burrowed into his pile of blankets, still squealing in pain. Blood smeared the blankets.

  She knelt down beside him. “Oscar, what happened? Let me see.”

  When he lifted his head, she saw that a small portion of his ear had been torn. Someone had shot him. The thought prickled through her, both terrifying and infuriating. “Hold on, big guy. I’ll be right back.”

  Nobody shot her pig and got away with it. Well, unless they shot her, too. She ducked down as she crept to the bedroom and looked out through the blinds. No one was out there. She made her way to the front and peered out. No vehicles, no sign of anyone. What was it, a phantom sniper? No, wait. She’d heard a shot, but not breaking glass. Which meant som
eone was in the house.

  Her finger twitched on the canister. The closet. That was what bothered her about the second bedroom. When she looked last night, she’d closed the closet door. Now it was open. She walked on shaky legs into the room, canister raised and ready. She shoved the bi-fold door open the rest of the way and aimed—at a rifle.

  “What the hell?”

  The rifle was lying on the floor. She pressed the back of her hand against the barrel; it was warm. How had this gotten back in the house?

  “Oscar.” She grabbed tissues, peroxide and antibiotic and ran back to the kitchen. She held onto him as best as she could while pouring peroxide on his ear. “I know, sweetie-pig, I know. It’ll only hurt for a minute.” It was a small tear. Luckily the bullet had only nipped the edge of his ear. He could have been killed. Strange how the thought squeezed her heart over a pig she hadn’t wanted in the first place. She hugged his big, warm body. “Oscar, what did you see last night? Was someone here…in the house?” She shivered violently at the thought.

  Whoever it was had probably been hiding in the closet with the rifle. As much as she didn’t want to believe that, she knew she hadn’t missed seeing the rifle in the closet.

  “Did you go investigate this morning?” she asked as she dabbed at his ear with tissue. “Maybe you bumped the trigger or pushed it into something else. Maybe it was set to go off.”

  Should she call the substation? And tell the deputy on duty what, that the rifle no one had even reported missing had materialized in her closet? Kinsey would love that story. She finished treating Oscar’s ear and went back to the closet. If she could get someone to do a close scrutiny of it, maybe they would find a hair or other fiber that might help. No way would that happen, so she’d do it herself.

  She carefully picked up the gun with two towels and carried it into the kitchen. Smitty’s initials were carved into the stock as he’d described. There was also a sanded-down patch on the wood. Blood or any other indicator that this had been used to strike Elva was gone. Still, she put on Elva’s reading glasses, sat under the brightest lights in the house, and went over every inch of the gun. She saw nothing, though she could have missed a microfiber. After searching the house, she found some bubble wrap that was swaddling a Chia Pet Elva had stashed in a closet, and wrapped the gun in it. When she got more proof, she’d hand it over to the authorities.

  Except she’d now lost her way of finding the killer. A killer who had figured out she’d been looking for the gun or some piece of evidence. She’d told Zell everything. Had he mentioned it to his family? Could one of them have panicked and brought the gun back? She’d also mentioned it to Kinsey.

  Kim settled in next to Oscar and rubbed his belly. “We’re going to find out who did this to you. I promise.”

  Charlotte let out a long whistle as she walked inside the bar. “Wow. They weren’t kidding.”

  She looked as fresh as a wild orchid and just as pretty. Her white dress hugged her small waist and accented her cleavage. Tullie was dressed in a flowery pink dress that was at odds with her somber expression.

  Kim felt gritty compared to them, but she was too tired to care. She turned off the sander when the two walked in. Flecks of varnish and wood coated her skin.

  “They?” she said.

  “The folks at church.” Charlotte was still taking it in. Tables were pushed against the walls, and the pictures were stacked on the end of the bar. She ran her finger down the crack in the jukebox.

  “Anybody at church brag about doing this?” Kim asked, brushing off some of the dust.

  “I didn’t hear anything. Kinsey said there wasn’t any evidence to point to the purporters.” Before Kim could correct her, she added, “Perpetrators, I mean. This is a shame, a damn shame. Where are folks supposed to go drinking now? Can’t listen to Waylon Jennings at the Everglades Inn’s lounge.”

  Tullie was running her fingers over the broken backgammon board.

  “It’s still playable,” Kim said. “The pieces are in the office.”

  Charlotte asked, “When do you think you’ll be open again?”

  Kim wasn’t going to tell her about the supplier problem. “Oh, might be a week or so. I’ve got to get chairs and a new supply of liquor. Figured I’d tackle the flooring while we’re closed.” She tried to keep her voice as upbeat as possible, but she could hear the phony echo.

  Charlotte said, “Hey, frog, got any vibes on who did this?” She wiggled her fingers. “Maybe one of your feelings?”

  Tullie shifted her gaze away from her mother.

  Kim said, “I could use all the help I can get. Really,” she added when Tullie looked at her skeptically. “Not that it’ll get a conviction, but it’d be nice to know who my enemies are.”

  Charlotte leaned against the jukebox and leveled her blue-green eyes at Kim. “It’s always good to know a person’s intentions.” Her long nails tapped rhythmically against the thick glass.

  When Kim suspected Charlotte was about to ask why she’d really been sneaking around Heron’s Glen, she quickly said, “Where’s the rest of the family?”

  “Owen don’t go to church. Said if there was a God, he’d have been born rich and good looking. Daddy was too hung-over to go this morning. And Zell—he’s the one you’re really wondering about, isn’t he?” She gave Kim a sly smile. “He had an emergency call from a client. Some environmental group shut down a construction project in Naples.”

  She seemed overly interested in Kim’s level of interest in Zell, so Kim kept her face bland. She wanted to clarify that she didn’t care what Zell was doing but got sidetracked by Tullie who screamed, “What happened to Oscar’s ear? A piece of it’s missing!”

  “He accidentally caused a rifle to go off.” There was no point in telling the rest of the story. “He’s all right now, but he was sure scared when it happened.” That last part could be said of her too.

  Charlotte said, “You’ve got to be careful about keeping guns around. Pigs are like children, you know. Curious as all get out. We keep ours locked in a cabinet. Our guns, I mean, not our children.” She started the tapping again, looking at Kim. “Was it true what you told us Friday, about coming out to see me? To have lunch?”

  “Yes,” Kim lied, wondering why Zell hadn’t told them she’d been trespassing. Maybe because he could be trusted. “I’d like to be friends.” That much was true, anyway. “I like you and Tullie.”

  “And Zell,” she said in a teasing voice. “If that’s what you want—to be friends—you need to set things straight with my daddy. If you have any designs on my brother at all, even ones you haven’t admitted to yourself, that would sure help your cause. It’d make things easier on Zell, too.”

  Kim felt herself tense. “Set things straight?”

  “Yeah. Apologize. After all, you did accuse the man of murder.” She lifted an arched brow in challenge. “If that’s what you were really out there for, then making things right shouldn’t be so hard. You apologized to Zell for kicking him out of your bar when he was defending you, after all.”

  “But I knew I was wrong then. I honestly don’t know if your father killed Rhonda or not.”

  “He didn’t.” She waved her gold-tipped nails in the air. “He might have been reckless in the old days, but kill a girl? No way. ’Sides, if he was into killing women, more of them would have died between then and now. If you want to live here, you got to let the past go. You’re like a bulldog, grabbing onto something and not letting go. You moved into our house full of anger and a need for justice.” She pushed off from the jukebox and walked to where Tullie was crooning over Oscar, who was on his back loving every minute of it. “Let’s see what happened to you, big boy.”

  Apologize to Winnerow? Charlotte was right, though. Kim had moved to Heron’s Glen full of anger. Had she only seen what she’d wanted to see? Anybody could have taken the family truck, another fact that had helped create the jury’s doubt as to Winnerow’s guilt. She’d been so sure. Could she have been wr
ong? It was something she couldn’t bear to contemplate.

  “Oscar, my goodness, you poor thing.” Charlotte said as she examined his ear.

  Tullie had wandered over to where Kim still stood near the jukebox. “Do you believe my feelings?” she asked softly.

  Kim leaned closer to the girl. She tried to phrase an answer about not necessarily believing in psychic feelings but admitting Tullie had been right about the quest for truth. The words, “I do” came out instead. When Tullie was clearly eyeing her shorn hair, Kim felt compelled to say, “It was an accident.”

  Charlotte strolled toward the front door. “Tullie, we better get on home. We’ve got two large orders of gator meat to get ready to ship tomorrow.”

  With those haunting blue eyes, Tullie held Kim’s gaze for a moment. She wrapped cool fingers around Kim’s arm and whispered, “Be careful,” before meeting her mother at the door.

  Charlotte said, “Oh, one thing I gotta ask you, and there’s just no polite way to do it. What in the name of bad haircuts did you do to your hair?”

  Kim automatically ran her hand over her head. “I thought I’d try something new.” If she implicated Grace, it would be all over town by that evening.

  “Well, remember this: new ain’t necessarily better.” She started to walk out, but swung back through the doorway. “Daddy’ll be around all day if you decide to come over for any reason. We’ll see you later.”

  Charlotte seemed so sure Kim would come out. Maybe an apology was in order. Smoothing things for Zell would be worth humbling herself after all he’d done for her. Charlotte wouldn’t have suggested it if she thought Winnerow would throw her apology back in her face.