I'll Be Watching You Page 33

The phone rang out in the living room. She was glad when he didn’t move to answer it. The machine picked up, and they heard Kinsey’s voice. “I’m looking for Kim. The fire marshal’s here and wants to meet her over at the house. I’ll try her at the bar.”

  At the thought of the house, she felt her face go slack. “For a little while, I’d forgotten about all that.”

  She figured he’d like the fact that he’d swept her away, but his expression was even more shadowed than hers. The shadow of guilt?

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes now and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Nothing. We should probably get over there. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  He started to get up, but she grabbed his arm. “Zell, what do you know about the fire?”

  “Nothing,” he repeated, pulling away.

  She hated thinking that he knew something. She knew her presence in his house and in his life was already causing him trouble with his family. If one of them had set the fire, he’d be in a worse position than during the trial. Except this time she wouldn’t only end up on the losing end; she might end up dead.

  Zell insisted that they eat a quick breakfast before heading over. “You’ll need the strength,” he said, shoving a peanut-butter-smeared piece of toast at her.

  She took it and the glass of milk he handed her. “Thanks.”

  “I want you to stay here,” he said, taking a bite of his toast. “At least until this is resolved.”

  He wasn’t giving her a choice, she noticed. “I’ll stay at the bar. I can buy a sleeping bag and sleep in the back room until the house is rebuilt.”

  “The insurance won’t kick in until the arson investigation is complete. And if, as you said, they think you had something to do with it, they’ll stall. Maybe even refuse to pay out. That’s if Elva even had insurance.” At her alarmed look, he said, “Some people around here don’t have it, despite the threat of storms and hurricanes. In fact, because of it. They can’t afford the premiums.”

  “All of her paperwork is probably gone. I’ll have to check at the bar.”

  He finished his toast and brushed his hands on his jeans and leaned down to scratch Oscar’s head. “So, it’s settled.”

  “What’s settled?” she asked.

  “You staying here.”

  “If you think I’m going to shack up with you—”

  He refilled the bowl with Cheerios for Oscar and went looking for his keys. “I have nothing but the most honorable intentions.”

  “You’re a man,” she called after him. “Men have no honor.”

  Sharing a bed, and her body, with Zell wasn’t unappealing. The problem was she had a feeling that being with him would be addicting. Wanting any kind of relationship with Zell was going to be harder than anything she’d ever encountered in her life. He would want it all, every time. She was too scared to ride that roller coaster again…and yet, she wanted to feel the thrill again, too. Backing out now would be the smartest thing to do to keep her heart safe and her mind sane.

  He returned to the kitchen with his keys. Though she’d meant the comment as a light joke, he looked nothing but serious. He edged up in front of her and tipped her chin back. “I’m not touching you again until you’re ready to give me everything. Let’s go.”

  Damn, he was honorable. She slid off the stool and located the high heels Charlotte had brought over. They were two sizes too small. She slid into a pair of Zell’s sneakers and found them a better fit. “What’s wrong with just having great sex?” Talk about role reversal. She followed him to the door.

  “I don’t want just sex with you.”

  Those words made her heart jump. “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t look too happy about it either. “I don’t want just sex with you.”

  He was leaving it at that, apparently. Zell wasn’t like Simon or any of the men she’d dated before. How did she learn to give everything when she had never done it before?

  They walked to his truck, and he opened the door for her. It was nearly eleven. The weight in her chest kept growing heavier as they turned into her drive. A deputy who was guarding the scene waved them through. People were standing around, hoping for a glimpse of the house. What used to be her home, she thought drearily. The visage from last night still haunted her, flames licking at the walls and the smoke creeping beneath the door.

  When the black wreckage came into view, she still lost her breath. She realized she’d been holding out some impossible hope that part of the house would be salvageable. One wall was standing, but it wouldn’t be for long.

  Detective Minotti was there with another man she presumed was the fire marshal. She slid out of the truck before Zell could walk around to open her door and, ignoring everyone, stumbled toward the house. The ground was still muddy, and ruts from the vehicles made walking difficult, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the house.

  “Ms. Lyons, please watch your step. Don’t get too close.”

  She thought it was Minotti’s voice, but didn’t turn to see. Wisps of smoke curled into the muggy air, giving the structure the sense of being alive. The smell of burnt plastic and other materials stung her nostrils. She barely recognized the couch in the living room. The interior walls had collapsed, as had the roof, covering most of the furniture. The kitchen had been obliterated. She could have been in there. The thought pounded into her head, bringing back the panic when Oscar had woken her and she realized the smoke in her dream was real.

  Minotti’s voice said, “You’re Zell Macgregor, right? You made the call to the fire department.”

  “Yes.”

  Kim turned toward the men, who were a few yards behind her. Minotti was consulting his notes. “What were you doing up at two in the morning?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. I walked out on my deck and smelled the smoke. Then I saw it and realized it could be Kim’s place.”

  She walked back to the men at the same time as the other man walked from the side of the house to join them. Minotti was taking notes.

  “I’m Maynard Burton, state fire marshal,” the man said, shaking Kim’s hand. He looked like a refined version of Smitty. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. I’m going to do my best to find out what happened here. I need some information from you, though. Tell me what you saw when you first realized the house was on fire and how you left the house.”

  She described the terrifying events of the night before, even down to the color of the smoke creeping beneath the door.

  He nodded toward the back of the house and they all followed. “It’s hard to say what the point of entry was. Was this the master bedroom?”

  Kim nodded, barely recognizing what was once the bed she’d slept in. Everything that was left was covered in black soot made muddy by the water. She pointed to the bedroom across the way. “That was the second bedroom.” Beneath part of a wall she could see the charred filing cabinet. “I’d like to see if anything in the file cabinet is salvageable. Most of Elva’s personal papers were in there.”

  Burton was sketching the layout of the house. “We’ll get you the contents as soon as we’re finished.”

  “There was a rifle in the closet…”

  “We found the steel barrel, but the stock was burned away.”

  So much for her evidence, flimsy though it was.

  “Detective Minotti’s report said you smelled gasoline. You were right; it was used as an accelerant. From what I can tell so far, someone doused the back room, hallway, living room, and kitchen with it.

  Minotti said, “But not her bedroom.”

  “No, the bedroom was the only room that wasn’t treated.”

  Minotti scratched his chin. “That’s strange. Seems if I wanted to burn someone, I’d toss accelerant on them while they slept and throw the match. Seen a few cases like that. That would guarantee that the intended victim would die.”

  Kim shivered, first from the possibility and secondly from his insinuation that she had set this fire.
“Maybe he didn’t want to take the chance of waking me. He tried his best to make sure I couldn’t escape from the bedroom. Did you find whatever he used to block the door?”

  Burton shook his head. “The door and the frame are gone. If something was used, I’ll find it somewhere in there.”

  “What about the fires set outside the windows? That was to keep me from climbing out.” She walked to where the windows had once been. The ground and plants were scorched.

  Burton said, “I found accelerant there as well. Those were the only windows that were treated.”

  Minotti turned to Kim. “Who’s to say that you didn’t start the fires yourself knowing you could put one of them out?” He looked at Burton. “Didn’t you also say that there wasn’t much gasoline poured under the window in the back, the one she escaped from?”

  “There doesn’t appear to be.”

  Zell said, “Maybe he ran out of gas. Did you find the can?” When both men shook their heads, he said, “How could she have started the fire without a container to hold the gasoline in?”

  Burton said, “We’ve had cases where the arsonist used milk jugs to store the gasoline and then threw the jugs into the fire. We’re still analyzing the scene, searching the surrounding area. I’m still trying to determine the point of origin. We have a lot more to cover.”

  Kim crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I didn’t burn down my house. You don’t understand. That was my house. My home.”

  Minotti said, “You haven’t been accused yet.” Yet. “We’re looking at all the angles, questioning people in town to see if anyone saw a vehicle leaving your driveway. But I can’t ignore what else I’m hearing: that you’re known for making unfounded accusations and that your bar is in financial trouble. Is in fact closed right now.”

  “That’s because someone has been sabotaging me. Why would I burn down my home? It makes no sense. I have no place to live.”

  Minotti glanced up at Zell. “I hear that maybe you do.” He slipped his notepad in his shirt pocket. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Lyons.”

  Burton tipped the cap he was wearing and walked back to the house to continue his work. Kim turned to Zell. “Take me back to my truck. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m going to finish fixing up the bar. It’s all I have.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Kim bought some food and toiletries at Tiger’s Grocery Store, Pig Chow at the local feed and seed, and headed to Southern Comfort. Her heart filled at the sight of it. It was all she had left, and even that was tenuous. She felt as though she were fighting an undertow. Every time she got a breath, the undertow sucked her down again—and made her more determined to survive.

  She hauled in her supplies, including the sleeping bag Zell had loaned her. She was determined not to become his problem as much as she loved knowing she could depend on him. Though he would have canceled his afternoon business appointment with a potential client, she insisted that he keep it. She needed some time to herself.

  She started working on the windows again. When she’d begun to maneuver the first of the remaining windows from the opening, an old truck pulled up. She recognized it as the one Ernest had been working on in his front yard. He pulled out a couple of grocery bags.

  “Hold on, I’ll help you,” he said, seeing her struggling with the window. He helped set the window on the table.

  “Thanks,” she said, eyeing the bags he’d set by the door. “What are those?”

  “Grace went through her closet to find you some clothes and other stuff she thought you might need.”

  That small act of kindness stole away her words for a moment. She finally said, “That was awfully nice of her.”

  “The fire out at your place…someone trashing this place.” He looked troubled as he rubbed his forehead. “Is this because you’ve been looking into my mama’s murder?”

  She sat down at the next table. “How’d you know I was looking into her murder?”

  “People talk. You were out talking to me. Made sense.”

  “I guess I am looking. Years ago, I wanted her killer punished because I needed to see that sometimes justice prevailed. And I wanted it for you. Seeing you, well, it broke my heart. I wanted justice for the right and the wrong reasons. Now I want the truth.”

  “You could have been killed in that fire.”

  She didn’t want to think about that. “Ole Oscar here saved my life.” She snapped her fingers, and he ambled over for a petting. “The thing is, if I don’t find out who killed your mother, I don’t know who to trust.”

  “They say my mama was a slut.”

  Kim winced at his bluntness. “She…well, I guess she liked men.”

  “I remember guys coming over, them going into the bedroom for a while. She’d make noises in there, like someone was killing her. I ran in to help her once, and she yelled at me.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Now I know what those noises were about.”

  Like Rhonda, Ernest had physically matured early. Even though he was only about fifteen, he looked like a man. The faded green tank top he wore showed off muscles and thick underarm hair.

  “Maybe she was looking for love,” Kim offered. “She just didn’t know how to find it.”

  “I don’t fault her, not really. She did her best by me. We always had food, and she hired people to fix up the house. I used to feel bad that my love wasn’t enough for her, but now I understand.” He grabbed one of the paper towels from the holder on a nearby table and blotted his face. “Are you still looking? Into her death, I mean? Or are you going to leave town? Not that I’d blame you. I wouldn’t stick around if someone trashed my bar and then tried to burn me and my house down.”

  “I’m staying,” she said with certainty. Though the sane thing would be to get the hell out of Dodge.

  “She was pregnant.” He let those words sit for a moment. “I found one of those pregnancy tests. There were two lines in the windows. I didn’t know what it was at the time. She grabbed it from me and told me not to say anything about it. She said it was a secret.”

  Kim tamped down her surprise. “Did you tell the police this?”

  He shook his head. “She’d said to keep it a secret. Even after her death—maybe especially because she was dead—I kept her secret. I remember she was really mad about something, too. She walked around the house, cussing and ranting in those weeks before she died.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I figured you orta know about that, in case it helps.”

  She stood, too. “I don’t remember the police saying that she was pregnant.” Surely, they wouldn’t have covered up something like that. Kinsey wouldn’t tamper with evidence, would he?

  He shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t test for it.”

  “I’ll check into it and—” Movement at the open window caught her attention. She walked over to find JoGene standing near the door. “What are you doing lurking out there?” She didn’t like the thought that he’d been listening to their conversation.

  JoGene came inside. “I’m here to help you with the winders.”

  “You are?”

  He removed his red Winchester cap and pushed his damp hair away from his face before settling the cap again. “We’re friends, right?”

  She had to stop herself from saying, we are? Instead, she glanced at Ernest. “I’ll be right back, JoGene.”

  She nodded for Ernest to follow her outside. “Be careful, okay? If people think you’re talking to me—and everyone knows everything around here—whoever set my house on fire might hurt you, too.”

  He nodded. “You be careful, too.”

  She watched him get into his truck before going back inside. JoGene was looking at the window on the table. “What do we do?”

  “I’ll show you,” she said, remembering Zell helping her with the first window. She wasn’t sure why he had helped her either. JoGene’s motives were much more suspect. “Where’s your truck?” It hadn’t been parked outside, thus allowing
him to walk up to the open window without her hearing him pull into the lot.

  “I parked at the marina and walked over. It’s shady over there.” In other words, he didn’t want his father seeing him here.

  She showed him how to break out the bits of glass.

  “I’m sorry about your house, Kim. Do they have any ideas how it got started?”

  “Gasoline, with intent to murder.” She watched his expression, but he was concentrating on the glass.

  “Murder? I heard they think you set it for the money. Hell, I told you I’d help you out.”

  She dropped her hammer on the table before she was tempted to do something else with it. “I didn’t set it! Someone tried to kill me.”

  “Like you think someone killed Elva.”

  “Someone did kill Elva.”

  He raised his hands. “All right, all right. I’m not here to argue with you.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “To help you.” He grabbed a brush. “Who do you think set the fire?”

  Sure, he’d love for her to spill her suspicions. “I wish I knew.” She had a feeling he wasn’t there out of the goodness of his heart. Reluctance strained his features. “Maybe you should go. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  He dropped the brush. “My dad doesn’t own me!” Rage colored his face, but he visibly contained it. “I need to help you, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

  He jammed the brush into the paint. She’d take his help, but she wasn’t telling him anything. Maybe she’d use the opportunity to find out something.

  While the paint on the first window dried, they removed the plywood and took out the last window. Heavy, hot air drifted in through the openings. She had the air conditioning on, but all of the cool air rushed right out. She felt ridiculous in the dress, but it was cooler than even shorts would have been. Especially considering the bottom hem came to several inches above her knees. Charlotte had said these were her clothes from after Tullie’s birth before she lost weight. Even at that, they were way too small. Grace’s clothes would probably be a better fit.