Someone's Watching (30 page)

She let the hair fall and began to cry. Geezer licked her hand.

“Change me back,” Kate said. “Please change me back. I don’t want to be an angel anymore.”

The old Honda smelled like heat, tired upholstery, and faded memories. Robbie leaned back against the passenger seat of Jeremy’s grandfather’s car, thrumming her fingers against the dashboard. She was feeling an odd energy. So many competing emotions.

Kate, her sister. So real, and yet the connection reminded Robbie of a thread of fresh glue—still fluid and delicate. The sisters hardly had had time to speak to each other over the last few hours, let alone get to know each other. They’d hugged goodbye at Jeremy’s grandfather’s. “We’ll talk later,” Robbie had said.

But Kate had just nodded, the corners of her mouth tugging downward. A child left behind on her first day of school, not quite certain her mother was really coming back for her. Robbie certainly knew that feeling.

And then there was Jeremy. He was driving, eyes on the bumper-to-bumper traffic heading south on U.S. 1. Shaved now, hair short, jaw set. So different from their ride down to Key Largo in the Corvair. She had an image from then of Jeremy’s hair blowing in the wind through the open windows. Together once again on a mission.

When was that? Just yesterday?

“Rush hour,” Jeremy said. “We probably won’t get down to Key Largo before dark.”

A mission. How tired Robbie was becoming of missions. “I suppose it’s better for us if it’s dark.”

“You know we don’t really have a choice,” Jeremy said.

Robbie looked out at the gas stations and fast-food restaurants that went slowly by.

“I want to know exactly where that bastard is and what he’s planning next.” Jeremy shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Breaking into your apartment, waiting to do God knows what.”

“We don’t know for sure it was he at my apartment.”

“Jesus, Robbie. We still have enough to tie Mike to everything that’s gone down. Kate’s shoe on the pebbles near a jumping red dragon? For chrissake—how many houses have jumping red dragons in their front yard? Then, Brett’s body being found there. And when Kate talked about the creepy old guy that reminded her of Michael Jackson, that had to be Mike.”

“But I don’t see how he could have pulled off the murders,” Robbie said. “He was still in the house when you went outside with Brett. And even if he sneaked out later, I just don’t see Mike overpowering Brett.”

A large truck was stopped in front of them, making it impossible to see what was going on up ahead. “That’s a good point,” Jeremy said.

The truck began to move and they ground forward. “And if Mike was the one who’d attacked Tyra,” Robbie said, “Tyra and Kate would have recognized him in the elevator.”

“That’s true,” Jeremy said. “I saw the guy with the floppy hat lying on a lounge chair. It wasn’t Mike.”

“You saw his face?”

“No. It was covered with the hat. But he wasn’t old and skinny—I could tell that much.”

“Then Mike probably has someone doing his dirty work.” Robbie thought for a minute. “Remember at the party when Brett was angry with Mike? There was this other guy—brown hair, nicelooking, messed-up lip.”

“I remember.”

“Well, after you and Brett left the party, I noticed he was missing. I wonder if he followed you, then killed Brett after you left.”

Jeremy was tapping on the steering wheel with his thumbs.

“Do you think he could have been the guy in the floppy hat that killed Tyra?” Robbie asked.

“It’s possible.”

“I’d seen him before,” Robbie said. “He was at BURN Friday night, hovering over Mike like his watchman or something.”

Robbie remembered the way the guy had looked at her that night. Almost like he recognized her—probably because of her resemblance to Kate before they had altered her appearance. So very likely he was the one who’d broken into Robbie’s house yesterday afternoon. She wondered if he had also slashed her bike tires, perhaps as a warning. That had happened a couple of days after Mike had seen Robbie’s number on Kate’s flyer.

“Okay,” Jeremy said, “so assuming he’s Mike’s personal goon and he killed Brett and Tyra, once we get to Mike’s house, what are we looking for? And the place could still be crawling with cops. Brett’s body was only just found early this morning.”

Early this morning? It seemed to Robbie a lot more time had gone by with all that had happened. Jeremy under suspicion for Brett’s murder, Robbie’s fight with her father, Tyra getting killed, Kate’s escape. And, of course, Kate’s and Robbie’s discovery that they were sisters.

“We don’t really have a choice,” Robbie said. “We need something tangible to connect Mike with the two murders or you’re the primary suspect.”

“And Mike might still be figuring out how to shut you up.”

They stopped at a traffic light. Cars were streaming into a strip mall with a store selling lottery tickets, a florist, a liquor store, a video rental.

“We need to find the DVDs,” Robbie said.

But what would DVDs prove?” Jeremy asked. “Just that Mike’s in the blackmailing business.”

“But think about the stuff going on at BURN, which happens to be Mike’s favorite hangout,” Robbie said. “That’s where the congressman went last Friday, then left withTyra and Kate. What if after the congressman killed himself, the cops and FBI turned up the heat? And then, what if the people who worked for Mike started double-crossing him? Or if Mike was afraid they would? We both saw that Brett was losing it. And according to Kate, Tyra threatened to expose him. If Mike believed those two might topple his blackmailing operation, that’s a pretty good motive for him to want Brett and Tyra dead.”

“And you, if he believes you’re onto him.”

Robbie ignored Jeremy’s remark. It was easier to think clearly if she wasn’t worried about herself being a target. “So,” she continued, “if we find blackmail DVDs at Mike’s house then there’s a logical link between Mike and the murders.”

“Right,” Jeremy said. “The house. Even if the cops aren’t there, how the hell are we going to get in?”

“I think there’s a way.”

“Really?” Jeremy glanced over at her.

The truck had stopped again, blocking the road ahead. “Maybe.”

“And what if Mike or his henchman is home? Or what if there’s a caretaker?”

“Then we have a problem.”

Even after the rush hour congestion should have subsided, it was still slow going as they continued down U.S. 1. “I don’t get how there can be so much traffic on a Tuesday night,” Jeremy said.

Just south of Florida City, the sound of a siren grew behind them. “Shit,” Jeremy said. “They couldn’t be chasing us.” He glanced
in the rearview mirror. “They don’t know my grandfather’s car. Unless Lieber figured out where we went.”

Robbie turned and looked at the traffic clogging the road. Could the police back at the SOBE Grande have connected Tyra’s murder to Jeremy? Or maybe the DA had finally put together enough evidence to arrest Jeremy for Brett’s death.

The siren got louder. Cars were pulling over to the shoulder.

An ambulance drove through.

“Not the police.” Jeremy let out a breath of relief.

“It looks like there’s an accident ahead,” Robbie said.

There were flashing lights as they approached the dangerous section of U.S. 1 they’d driven through the day before. The northbound lane on the two-lane highway was closed and a cop was directing traffic. A couple of cars looking like crushed soda cans were off to the side of the road, surrounded by fire rescue, an ambulance, and several police cars.

Jeremy strained to see. “This doesn’t surprise me. Remember how that asshole cut us off and almost caused an accident yesterday?”

Traffic eased up beyond the collision. Robbie gazed at the mangroves reflected in the dark, swampy water. The possibility that the police were looking for them was very real. It was just a matter of time. If she and Jeremy were unable to find a connection between Mike and the murders, Jeremy would very likely be arrested. But going to Mike’s house presented risks, too. Someone might see them, figure out what they were doing, and try to stop them.

Either scenario potentially ended with an outcome that terrified Robbie—losing Jeremy.

They reached Key Largo at a little after eight, but the sky was still light. Jeremy pulled the car into a McDonald’s drive-through.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting something to eat. I haven’t had anything all day. And by the time we’re done, it should be dark.”

Robbie didn’t argue. Any delay was welcome.

They ordered Big Macs and fries and ate in the car with the windows down. The fishy ocean air mingled with the smell of cooking oil as cars streamed by on the two-lane highway. Jeremy ate like he was ravenous, but Robbie felt her stomach convulse each time she tried to swallow.

“My grandparents used to take me and Elise to McDonald’s when we were kids,” Jeremy said, his mouth full. “In this car, as a matter of fact. It’s amazing this clunker still runs.”

Did he not realize what was at stake?

“Jeremy,” Robbie said, “there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sounds serious.”

“I don’t know how to say this. Everything’s been so messed up the last couple of weeks. I thought I knew what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.”

He looked at her. His dark, serious eyes, beautiful mouth, cleft chin raw and exposed without the beard. “Talk to me.”

Robbie ran her thumb and forefinger up and down her feather earring. “When I said I didn’t think we should live together, I twisted things and made it seem like you were the one with the problem. That you were restless for fun and other girls. But that wasn’t it at all.”

He put his half-eaten hamburger down on the wrapper on the console.

“I had the problem,” Robbie said. “I was afraid if we stayed together, eventually you’d leave me.”

“Like your father did.”

“That’s right.” Was what she was discovering about herself so obvious to him?

“And you’re not afraid anymore?”

“I’m still afraid. But it isn’t fear of you leaving me by choice. I’m
worried about losing you because of other people—police, bad guys.”

He reached for her hand. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Oh Jeremy. You’ve always believed you were invincible. But you aren’t.”

“I told you, nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“I want you to know how I feel about you. How even when we’re apart, you’re the one I’m always thinking about.”

“Stop it, Robbie. You sound like the police are going to lock me up, or worse.”

“I just don’t want it to go unsaid.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And you’re the one I’m always thinking about.”

Cars went by on the roadway, whirring wheels the only sound. The half-eaten burgers and fries sat on their wrappers on the console between them. So much to say, but she didn’t have the words. She reached into her handbag for a tin of mints. She offered it to Jeremy and took one for herself. The sky was darkening. Jeremy reached for another mint.

“Keep it,” she said.

He slipped the tin into his pocket, then got out of the car and threw their trash away. When he got back, he leaned across the console and kissed Robbie hard on the mouth.

She wondered if someday the taste of peppermint would bring back painful memories.

It was dark. Only their headlights illuminated the narrow, tree-lined road. They drove slowly. The brightness increased. A car behind them. Robbie held her breath. The car passed and continued on.

“There are other people who live on this street, you know,” Jeremy said.

“I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”

Jeremy stopped the car at the edge of Mike’s property. No sign of people or cars. The entrance to the long pebbled driveway was wide open. Beyond the trees and hedges, the house was barely visible, a rectangular outline with no interior lights on.

“Looks like the crime-scene crew is gone,” Robbie said.

“It’s strange that the floodlights aren’t on,” Jeremy said.

He drove a little farther and pulled into an adjacent property with a “For Sale” sign. The house looked deserted, with uncut grass and no cars.

“I’ll leave the car here,” Jeremy said. “We can walk down to the bay to get to Mike’s house.”

Insane, she told herself. This was totally insane.

Clouds blocked the stars and moon, but Robbie’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. This house was another McMansion with a barreltiled roof and giant windows. There were cracks in the stucco and a pile of broken roof tiles near the side of the house. She noticed a couple of crumpled candy wrappers in the heap of tiles, but they
were probably from workmen. It looked as though no one had ever lived here.

As they neared the bay, the foliage became denser. Jeremy held a low-hanging branch aside so Robbie could pass. Although she was in jeans and sneakers, Jeremy was still wearing the suit pants and leather shoes he had put on at his apartment to avoid the attention of the police. Not the best clothes for breaking and entering.

The hedge between the McMansion and Mike’s property extended practically to the water. The ground was soggy and water seeped into Robbie’s sneakers. “Shit,” she said under her breath.

They stepped over onto Mike’s property. The shrubs were just as dense, but in a pattern that suggested a professional landscaper. Night sounds were all around them—croaking, buzzing, soft plops from surfacing fish in the bay water. A damp, earthy smell hung in the air.

“It looks like we have the place to ourselves,” Jeremy whispered. “I’m dying to see how you’re going to get us into the house.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Crime-scene tape extended around the perimeter of the property, including the bay side.

“I wonder why they’re keeping this section blocked off,” Robbie said. “Could they still be looking for the murder weapon?”

“At least they’re not checking things out tonight.”

A detached three-car garage stood at the far side of the property. Jeremy went over and looked in through the windows. Robbie joined him, but she wasn’t tall enough to reach the windows.