I'll Be Watching You Page 34
“JoGene?” She waited for him to stop breaking out the glass and look at her. “You were seeing Rhonda, weren’t you? While we were dating.”
His answer was to look away and lift one of his bony shoulders. “Maybe I was. Did Ernest tell you that?”
“No, I heard it from someone else. How much did you hear of our conversation, anyway?”
“Nothing.” He used the chisel to scrape out the old glazing.
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself about dating Rhonda?”
“What should I say? You weren’t giving me any so I went somewhere else. It wasn’t like I was cheating. I didn’t love her.”
“It’s not cheating if you don’t love her?”
“Exactly. You’re not going to fuss at me now about that, are you? Because you don’t have a place to do that, not unless you’re thinking of taking up with me again.” He gave his head a shake. “And I can’t do that now.”
“You can’t take up with me now? Because of your father?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, diverting his attention to the old glazing again. What was going on here? “Rhonda’s death must have shaken you up, though. I mean, you had been physically intimate with her.”
“Of course, I felt bad for her. But if you’re trying to find out how recently I’d been with her, I hadn’t seen her in months. Too long for her to be knocked up by me.”
“You did hear us.” Uneasiness seized her.
“Look, do you want me to help you or do you want to jabber about the past?”
She took the chisel away from him. “I’ve got it.”
“I guess I don’t blame you for not trusting anyone. The thing is, you might be trusting the wrong person. Zell,” he added at her expectant look. “I know you got a thing for him and all, but I’ve been thinking about Rhonda and your investigation. I think he was seeing her, too. The night she died, Winn called my dad, and he skedaddled right out of the house. He came back much later, looked pretty ragged, too. He burned his clothes in the big barbeque pit out back.”
“You never told the police any of this.”
“Of course not.”
“Because it makes it sound like Buck murdered her.”
“He didn’t. He was home at the time they figured she was killed.” It was JoGene and Buck’s wife who gave Buck an alibi. Kim had never been sure. JoGene said, “Dad would never tell me what he’d done that night, but he got mad at Winnerow once and said how he owed Dad big time.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to make a connection. “Don’t you get it? Owed him. I think Winn’s been trying to protect his son all along. I think Zell killed that girl. Winnerow didn’t know what to do, so he called my dad.”
“I haven’t heard anything about Zell seeing Rhonda.”
“Not everything gets around this town. Remember this: Maybe Zell’s acting sweet on you because he wants to keep tabs on you.” She shivered at that prospect even as her heart objected. He said, “Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying. Be careful who you’re friends with.”
Be careful who you trust, Tullie had warned. What she had to wonder was, what did JoGene get out of trying to sway her loyalties?
He snatched up the keys he’d left on a nearby table. “Seems to me that if I thought someone was trying to kill me, I’d stop causing trouble. That’s what I’d do.”
She went back to the office and phoned Ernest. A tinny answering machine announced that he wasn’t there but to leave a message. “Ernest, it’s Kim. I’m pretty sure JoGene heard our conversation. Please be very careful. Whoever’s behind this has no qualms about murder.”
She wished she could tell whether JoGene had meant those parting words as a threat or a warning. Zell had imparted similar words once, but she couldn’t believe he was behind any of this. “I’ve got to trust someone.” Somewhere in the back of her mind the movie narrative echoed: Famous last words.
Kim finished the window right before the afternoon storm rolled in. Smitty had come by as well as Amy to check on her well-being. Even Charlotte had called. Kim appreciated their thoughts so much she’d nearly been moved to tears. The stress was getting to her, she knew, but she wouldn’t give in to it.
She wondered how long she’d be able to hold onto this place. She didn’t have the money to pay off the chairs and stools when they arrived. What good were chairs without liquor? She had no house to get an equity loan on. Elva had had minimal insurance on the bar, saving money on premiums by opting for large deductibles. The few bucks she could get for the vandalism weren’t worth the raised premiums. She’d discovered a policy for the house, but the arson investigation would hold that up.
The house. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and rocked her head against the glass.
Over at the hardware store, she could see Minotti dashing out into the rain. If he knew how much home meant to her, he’d never doubt her.
The drops of rain running down the glass reminded her of the tears aching to be let out. “How morose, Kim. Get a grip on yourself.”
The rain was easing up enough for her to see a large truck backing into her parking lot. She didn’t recognize the name on the side of the truck. Two young, buff guys jumped out and walked in. The older one glanced at his clipboard and said, “You Kim Lyons?”
“That’s me.”
“We’ve got a shipment of chairs and barstools for you. You need to sign here.”
“Hold on. I’ve got to talk to Evan over at the hardware store.” She’d scraped together enough money for half of the payment. Maybe she could beg for credit for the other half.
She sprinted across the expanse of parking lot and the empty lot bordering the main road. Even though the rain was light, she was still drenched by the time she reached the store. Evan had just finished ringing up a customer, and she caught her breath while he bagged the merchandise.
“Hold on a minute while I get your invoice,” he said before she could explain about the money.
When he handed her a wad of cash, she could only stare at it. “What’s this?” she finally asked as he jotted down Paid on the invoice.
“That’s the deposit you gave me.”
As much as she needed a break, taking advantage of a mistake wasn’t her style. “Evan, I still owe you money for the chairs, and here’s the thing—”
“No, you don’t.” He handed her the yellow copy. “You’re all set. Give this to the delivery guys.”
“Evan, you don’t understand. I haven’t paid for them yet. I can’t pay for them.”
He held up the invoice and pointed to the Paid notation. “You don’t have to. Someone took care of the bill. That’s why you got your deposit back.”
“Who?”
“I can’t say.” He started to help the customer who’d just walked up to the register, but she grabbed his arm.
“Was it Zell Macgregor?”
“I can’t say, but no, it wasn’t him. Don’t ask me, ’cause I’m not gonna tell you.” He went back to the customer.
She glanced at the delivery truck waiting for her, then at the invoice. Paid. Who else would pay it but Zell? She gave up trying to find out and dashed back to the bar to take delivery of her chairs.
Two hours later, the sales rep for the beverage supplier pulled up in his white utility van with the company logo on it. She already knew begging wouldn’t sway Berlin.
She walked outside. “I’m trying as hard as I can to pay you, but I still don’t have enough—”
He raised his hand in the same annoying way Simon had when he wanted to halt her words. “Your account has been rectified.” He walked around to the side and opened the sliding door. Consulting a list, he started stacking cases of liquor onto a dolly.
No way. This couldn’t be happening. “How?”
She wasn’t surprised when he said, “I don’t know. Accounting called me and said to release your order. You’re all paid up.” He efficiently stacked the boxes to higher than his own height and wheeled them to the side ramp.<
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She roused herself and ran inside to unlock the back door. After three more trips, she signed the slip and saw him off. She locked the front door and turned to the stacks of boxes. She was back in business, just like that. And she intended to find out who had done this for her…as soon as she iced the beers and hung up the neon signs.
Before she did anything, she called and left a message for Zell. “Come on down to Southern Comfort. I’ll buy you a drink.”
The lit neon signs drew some of the townsfolk like the color black did the swamp suckers. Zell, of course, had a personal invitation. He’d called Shar and suggested it might be nice to show up and give Kim a little support. Though he doubted Owen and Winn would ever come around, Shar seemed at least willing to give Kim a chance.
As soon as he stepped inside, some of the regulars gave him a hard time about his new shirt. He didn’t even model it this time, just waved them off. The place looked as good as new. Better then even that, he thought, as his gaze settled on Kim behind the bar as she drew a pitcher of beer. The windows were finished, the bar was stocked, and every table had chairs. It looked clean and the floors gleamed. Like with Kim, it gave him a peculiar sense of vulnerability. She’d had a house too, and now it was gone. She’d almost been killed. Oscar ambled up to him, his ropy tail swinging happily. Zell knelt down and scratched his back, careful of the healing cuts. Oscar had almost died, too.
Someone calling his name pulled him from his dark thoughts. Angus and his wife were sharing a pitcher of beer. He raised his glass and saluted him. Everything was going well in Angusville.
“Zell! I got problems, boy do I got problems.”
Zell held up his hand. “Not now, Willie. I got problems of my own.”
“It’s my girl. She’s complaining ’cause I’m not lasting long enough. You know…in the bedroom. What do I do?”
“When you’re about to come, picture her mama’s face,” he said, moving along. When Willie contemplated that advice, he shuddered. Zell knew what Penny’s mother looked like.
Amy slid up to him, expertly balancing a tray of tequila shots as she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for helping Kim out. Helping us all out.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
She winked. “Sure, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t.” He didn’t want credit for anything. He didn’t want any part of it.
Smitty was shooting the bull with some of his cronies, but when he saw Zell, he pushed out of his chair and came over. “The gossip mill’s been going overtime since the bar reopened. Everyone’s been saying how you saved the place. Well, boy, you don’t have to scowl about it. It’s no secret you’re sweet on the girl.”
“I didn’t save the bar.” He didn’t comment on the sweet part. “I didn’t put out a dime.”
Smitty picked up on Zell’s seriousness. “All right, so you didn’t. What’s going on?”
Zell met Kim’s gaze across the room, but he focused on Smitty. “I’m more concerned about who burned her house down. What are people saying about that?”
Smitty nodded toward the table in the corner—Zell’s usual table. Minotti and Burton were sitting there observing the happenings. “Those two have been asking lots of questions ’bout Kim and all that’s been happening around here. Local speculation has it that Buck had something to do with it, maybe that he even got JoGene to do the deed for him.”
Now Zell knew how Kim felt about finding the truth. He wanted to know who was responsible. He needed to know. Buck and JoGene were at the top of his list, too.
Zell said, “Kim thinks Elva was blackmailing someone. You were close to her. Was she?”
Smitty’s expression darkened. “All I know is, whatever she was up to, it probably got her killed. It almost got Kim and Oscar killed. And if you start asking questions…”
Smitty didn’t need to finish the sentence. That he looked worried wasn’t exactly comforting.
Zell walked up to the bar where Kim handed him a Captain Morgan and root beer.
“I’m paying you back,” she said, looking both annoyed and grateful, if that were possible.
He settled onto a stool. “Why? I didn’t pay for any of this.”
“Sure, you didn’t.”
He let out a low curse. “It wasn’t me, Kim.”
“Are you getting flack for helping me?”
“I don’t care if I do. But I didn’t pay for any of this.”
She raised her hands. “All right, you didn’t. Then who did? Who around here would put out that kind of money to help me? All most of the folks around here want to do is give me a hard time.”
That bothered her; he could see it in her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth dipped down for a second. “I need to know who did this, Zell. It’s important, as important as knowing who burned down my house.”
Telling her the truth would cause more problems than it would solve. “No, the house is much more important. Focus on that; accept this for what it is. Hell, the town owed you.” He took a long swig of his drink while Kim processed an order for Amy.
When she returned, she said, “Rhonda was pregnant when she died.”
“What?”
“Ernest told me that he’d found a positive pregnancy test right before she died. I checked with Kinsey; the autopsy reports didn’t show her being pregnant. I can’t figure it out. Did someone at the sheriff’s office doctor the autopsy report? I doubt even Kinsey could manage that. While Ernest was telling me this, JoGene was outside the open window. He said he came by to help me with the windows, which I highly doubt. I think he was there to eavesdrop.” Kim’s eyes narrowed. “You knew. You knew she was pregnant, didn’t you?”
He wasn’t sure what he’d let show on his face, but he hated that she’d picked up on it. “She wasn’t pregnant. They tested for it.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide and pained. “Maybe she terminated the pregnancy before she died. You knew, didn’t you? It wasn’t common knowledge. Only Ernie knew…and maybe the father of her child.”
“Kim…”
She backed away from him, knocking over a bottle of ketchup in her haste. A few people looked over at the noise but resumed their conversations. Minotti and Burton, however, were watching them with interest.
Zell wanted to walk behind the bar and put an end to that distrustful expression on her face. Only he couldn’t, not without lying. He’d been lying so long, why did he find it so hard to do it now?
She wouldn’t even look at him, though clearly her suspicions caused her pain. They caused him pain too, he realized. He’d hurt her once with his lies on the witness stand. This time he’d use them to ease her pain. He stalked behind the bar, took her hand, and hauled her out back.
“Zell, what are you doing?”
He trapped her against the wall, his arms on either side of her. “You think I had something to do with that girl’s death? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you think I’m capable of murder?”
She couldn’t look him in the eye; she kept shifting her gaze away. “I don’t want to think that, but I could see it in your face, that you knew, and JoGene said you were seeing her, and…”
“JoGene said…” He pulled back and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “JoGene’s lying, all right? He’s throwing that out to get back at me. I never touched that girl, not once. I don’t know anything about her murder.” He tipped up her chin and made her look at him. “Do you believe in your heart and soul that I could kill someone? That I could try to kill you?”
This time she looked into his eyes, searching for the truth. “How did you know about Rhonda’s supposed pregnancy?”
“I heard it indirectly from JoGene, who told Owen, who told Shar, who told me. That’s how I know.”
Could she see the lie in his eyes? Was he going to lose her because of it? He ran his thumb over the softness of her lower lip. Then he kissed her, a gentle kiss that begged her to believe him. He couldn’t stand the look of distrust in her eyes, not now.
For a moment she didn’t let go of him. Then, with a sigh, she walked inside, glancing back to see if he was following. She’d kissed him, but the indecision on her face killed him.
Shar and Owen were sitting at the bar when they returned. Kim caught up on her orders and then made Shar a rum runner using her fancy bottle-spinning techniques. He didn’t like feeling so much for a woman, especially one like Kim. Good question that Winn had asked: why couldn’t he have fallen for one of the nice gals he’d taken out in the past? This one was trouble, wrapped in a sinful package, a contradiction if he ever saw one. Strong and yet afraid to give away her heart. From that first encounter with her in Elva’s hothouse, he’d been drawn to her, even if it had been kicking and screaming. He wasn’t kicking or screaming now.
Owen took his beer and wandered over to a table of his friends. He didn’t want to be here to support Kim, that was obvious. Shar had probably dragged him along. Though he laughed at someone’s joke, his hardened eyes kept watching Kim.
Shar took a sip of the drink Kim placed in front of her. “Yum-my. I could get used to these things.”
When Smitty set several baskets of wings on the counter, Kim grabbed a tray and went to deliver them. Shar swiveled her stool around to face the small group of patrons and tapped her frosty glass with her nails. “I wasn’t sure my big brother would ever fall for a woman. Never thought it’d be one who hated gators, especially. What happened to your gator loving requirement?”
Words denying that he was falling for her didn’t jump to the surface. Just watching her setting the baskets of wings on a table had something inside him going round and round. The gator thing was the least of his problems. “She saw Toopie’s arm get pulled off by that bull gator. She was just a kid then. It scarred her.”
Shar winced. “I suppose that could scar you, seeing something like that.”
“I don’t even care if she loves them. Or likes them. As long as she respects them, I’d be okay with that. I’ve got an idea about how to work that out.”