Because I'm Watching Page 15

  “Not a problem. I’m supporting you, aren’t I?”

  “Yes…” She remembered the coffee filter, found one, and arranged it carefully in the basket. She measured the way the directions said: eight tablespoons per four cups. “When can I have a new car?”

  “Why do you need a car? Virtue Falls is a small town. You can walk to the grocery store, can’t you?”

  She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. “It’s not a matter of getting there. It’s a matter of coming back with the groceries.”

  “I’ll send you one of those wheeled carts you can drag behind you.”

  “I would like a car.”

  “You can’t have one. I’m not made of money. Publishing doesn’t pay that well.”

  “I know.” He’d told her that often enough, too. “But you have your other job, and the insurance will pay on the last one.”

  “You’ve had too many wrecks. Insurance doesn’t want to cover you anymore.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. She hated being stranded in Virtue Falls. She liked the town, but sometimes she wanted to drive up the coast, to a place where no monsters lurked and the scenery offered sanctuary for her mind.

  “This Jacob guy. You’re not dating him, are you?”

  “What? No! He’s not even friendly.” Although she had confessed almost everything to him, and he had behaved as if he were interested. After listening to Brandon, she was certainly interested in what drove Jacob to live in isolation and fear.

  Carefully she poured water into the coffeemaker and pressed the On button. Coffee began to dribble into the pot. She’d done it! “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

  “Between being the front for your writing career and doing my job, I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

  “But you like having a girlfriend.” When he had a girlfriend he wasn’t as bossy and grumpy.

  “Never mind me. I’m the normal one in the family, remember? It’s you I’m concerned about and you don’t have time for a social life.”

  “The only social life I have is calling the cops when things get too weird.”

  “So the monsters are still after you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I’ve got a contact in Virtue Falls. I get reports.”

  She looked around as if she would see someone watching her. “From who?”

  “Never mind.” Andrew sounded as if he were sorry he’d said anything. “Just keep writing.”

  Andrew was overbearing, but he was her family, the one steady influence in her life, and he worried about her.

  “I will.”

  “Eat right and get some exercise. Stop worrying about the monster. It’s an illusion. It can’t hurt you.”

  “They never found Easton’s killer.”

  Andrew got that impatient tone in his voice. “Maddie, whoever that was is not going to chase you to Washington to make you miserable. Stop being such a coward and write!”

  “Good-bye, Andrew.” She gently put the phone into the cradle and sat with her hand on it.

  It rang again immediately. Andrew was not used to having her hang up on him.

  She picked it up. “What?”

  “Kid, I love you.”

  He sounded like the brother who had cried with her at their parents’ funeral, like the brother who had haunted her hospital room as she recovered from the wound to her belly and the infection that inevitably followed, the brother who, while she lingered in the sanitarium, encouraged her to write and who, when she got out, agreed to take her place in the public eye.

  “I love you, too, Andrew, but you can’t talk to me that way. I’m not an idiot, I’m not a child, I’m not a coward, and I am not crazy.”

  “If you’d come home, the monsters would go away.”

  “No. Colorado is not my home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long, long time.”

  “I could take care of you. Watch over you.”

  She had wanted to say this for a long time. She needed to tell him. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I know you didn’t sign on to raise me, and I’m sorry things went badly at the precise time when I should have been getting out on my own. But I’m an adult now. I don’t need a babysitter. No one needs to watch over me.”

  It was like he didn’t hear her. Or maybe he didn’t want to hear her. “I don’t understand you. If you’d come home, you could write another book a year.”

  “No. I can’t.” She didn’t want to spend more time in the dark places of her soul. She wanted to live in the light. She walked over and looked out at Jacob’s house, at the two men who now seemed relaxed, who had settled into some kind of camaraderie.

  “Why can’t you? It doesn’t have to be long. You would make so much more money.” Andrew’s voice became coaxing. “Then you could have a car. Or a scooter. Wouldn’t you like a scooter?”

  “No. I’m not riding a scooter in Virtue Falls in the winter. Andrew, how’s your business?”

  “My business?” He sounded startled. “Why do you ask? You’ve never asked before.”

  She heard it again, that note of … panic? “You still have your firm, don’t you?”

  “Yes! I paid for the license the other day.”

  “You’re still trading stocks, right? Is it going okay?”

  “Some days are better than others.” His voice grew eager. “It’s like gambling. You have to pay attention all the time, read the signs, follow your gut. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Do you understand, Maddie?”

  “Have you ever lost everything?”

  “Yes. But never fear. You’re not going to starve.”

  “I’m not asking because of me. But you sound”—desperate—“concerned about money. Maybe worried.”

  “Honey, everybody’s concerned about money these days.”

  “I thought the recession was over.”

  “Officially. But in the risky world of stock trading, there’s always that fear that you’ll lose and always the golden ring of winning big.”

  “How much could you get for a shorter story?”

  “Maybe as much as five thousand dollars advance.”

  “I can’t get a car for that.”

  “Used … I might be able to talk the publishers up to ten thousand advance.”

  “I’d like to see the contract this time.”

  “Sure, honey. Sure. I’ll show you the contract.” He sounded like a snake oil salesman, then he switched back to the eager boy. “When could you finish it?”

  It depends on how many ghosts come to haunt me. “I’ll have to think about it, figure out a plot.”

  “Make it short.”

  “Andrew, the books are as long as they are. I have a story. I tell it.”

  “If you would try the graphic novel idea—”

  “No!” He was really hung up on that. “No.”

  “Are you sure you haven’t started drawing?”

  “I’m sure.” Sure that it’s none of your business, and sure wondering why you sound as if you know something.

  “All right, but I don’t know why I bothered to pay for those art classes for you.”

  “I thought it was because you wanted me to be happy.”

  “I do. No matter what happens, I hope you believe that.”

  She guessed she did, but as she hung up, she thought about what he’d said and the way he’d said it, and she wondered what Andrew was up to … and why he sounded frightened.

  The coffee was finished.

  She got two mugs out of the cupboard, poured them full, put them on a tray with some cookies from Sienna’s Sandwiches, and headed out the door for Jacob’s.

  She walked slowly, taking care not to slosh the coffee out of the mugs, and as she crossed the street, she thought that perhaps it was time for her to tell the truth about her writing, to replace Andrew on the books’ title pages.

  Then she remembered why she had handed it off to him. After she came out of the institution and gave him her fir
st book to review, he had said, Maddie, you’d better let me handle this. The media is still fascinated with you. They would follow you to every book signing and harass you at every opportunity. You would hate that.

  That made sense to her. So he became the name on her books. He took care of the money that came in and gave her an allowance, and supplemented with his own income.

  When Easton had discovered the deception, he had been most perturbed and wanted to look at the financials. But he’d been killed before he got the chance, and after that, she was content to continue with the relationship as it was.

  Except … except things were changing. She was changing.

  She stumbled as she got to the curb, looked up, and realized Brandon’s car was gone and Jacob had disappeared. His bedroom door was once more closed, shutting out the world.

  She glanced around. She stood here in broad daylight holding coffee and feeling foolish.

  Then a cab—the Virtue Falls cab—screeched around the corner onto the street and parked in front of Mrs. Butenschoen’s. There was a pause while the cabbie collected his fee. Then he leaped out as if his pants were on fire, opened the passenger door, and out stepped Mrs. Butenschoen, looking plump, sweet-faced, and well dressed. The cabbie handed her a small bag, leaped into the driver’s seat, and roared away like all the hounds of hell were chasing him.

  Poor guy. Mrs. Butenschoen had probably been telling him how to drive. And to clean up his cab. And—

  Mrs. Butenschoen stood on the sidewalk across the street and looked across at her. “How are you, Madeline?”

  Maddie froze. Mrs. Butenschoen never spoke to her except to complain or accuse. “I’m … fine?”

  “That’s good. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Belatedly she said, “I hope you had a nice day.”

  “Thank you. It was interesting.” Mrs. Butenschoen opened her gate, walked up to her front door, and went inside.

  Huh. An agreeable Mrs. Butenschoen. That was different.

  Maddie sat down on the curb, ate a cookie, sipped the coffee, and wondered—where had Mrs. Butenschoen gone all dressed up? And why hadn’t she driven herself?

  You hired me to do this. Stop trying to back out.

  You’re weak.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  At five, on her way out of the police station, Kateri endured catcalls, well wishes, and a chant of Kateri and Luis sittin’ in a tree.

  So apparently Mona had returned with the vase in time to hear the juicy part.

  “You guys are sooo mature,” she told them. “Has Bergen checked in yet?”

  “Haven’t heard a word.” Norm Knowles scowled.

  “That’s not like him.” Kateri hesitated.

  “He’s probably in the mountains and can’t make a call,” Ernie Fitzwater said. “You’ve got your cell phone. You’re in contact. Go on your date.”

  He was right. It wasn’t like she was going to sleep with Luis … tonight. “Okay,” she said. “Let me know if anyone really needs me. Otherwise … behave. All of you.”

  She got grins in return and a loud kissing sound from Moen.

  Kateri supposed it didn’t matter what they said or thought. The damage had been done. Truth to tell, she was looking forward to tonight’s … get-together. She didn’t want to call it a date. That made it official. She wasn’t ready for official. But eating with a friend at Virtue Falls Resort was always a treat.

  She gathered Lacey from Mrs. Golobovitch, took the dog for a long walk, then went home and dressed in record time in a long black sheath dress with gold buttons and a slit up each side. She consulted Lacey about how much makeup, then realized the ridiculousness of asking a stylish blond prom queen cocker spaniel about a grooming matter. Lacey’s answer would always be More! So Kateri used foundation to mute her scars, blush to give color to her stark cheekbones, and mascara and eye shadow to create deep, dark, smoky eyes. When she put down her brushes, she surveyed herself in the mirror. “I look pretty good.”

  Lacey clearly agreed.

  Luis arrived promptly at six thirty, looking pretty good himself in pressed black jeans, a nice tight T-shirt that proved he had worked out, and a black sport coat. At the sight of her he did a double take. He knelt to pet her dog, looked up, and said, “You’re beautiful!”

  Lacey barked and wagged her tail.

  He cupped the dog’s chin. “Yes, you, too.” He stood, brushed Lacey’s blond hair off his knees, and opened the door for Kateri.

  She grabbed her red silk wrap.

  He took it from her and placed it around her shoulders. Nice.

  Her walking stick leaned against the wall by her front door. As she exited, she grasped it; somehow, tonight it seemed to fit in her hand.

  It felt odd to be in the car with him. Not that he hadn’t driven her back and forth to Seattle for her checkups. But this was different. No matter what she wanted to call it, it was a date, her first in four years.

  He led the conversation with, “Your men are proud of you.”

  She thought back on the catcalls as she left, and asked, “How did you reach that conclusion?”

  “They told me.”

  “Did they? I assume this was when you came in with the roses?”

  “Yep, and they warned me to take care of you.” He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Like I don’t know how to do that.”

  “You’ve been such a good friend to me, Luis. I truly appreciate it.”

  He pulled into a viewpoint overlooking the ocean, turned to her, and placed his hand on her seat. “I don’t want your appreciation. I want more. I want your hand in mine, your body against mine, your trust, your love.”

  Ack. “It’s only a first … date.”

  “We’ve known each other for a long time. Why do we need to go through the formalities? I have half a mind to turn the car around, go to your place, and spend the night making love.”

  He was moving too fast. “Luis. I want the formalities.”

  He stroked the scar on her cheek. “You shall have them. But don’t make me wait too long, please?”

  “Those things you want … they take time.”

  He began again. “We’ve known each other—”

  “Not in that way, we have not.” She was right about this. She knew she was. “Formalities, Luis. That will allow us to be sure.”

  He looked sulky. Then he smiled, that flashing white smile he utilized with such success. “Let’s go eat.”

  Virtue Falls Resort hadn’t changed for more than a hundred years. At the turn of the nineteenth century, logs had been stacked four stories on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific and now, despite earthquakes and tsunamis, the hotel held old-fashioned charm. The guest rooms were above. The ground floor hosted the reception area, the grand room, and the exclusive dining room. The staff knew Luis and Kateri by their names, their jobs, and their reputations. The hostess took Kateri’s wrap and her walking stick. In the restaurant, the two were escorted to a table by the big glass windows. There Kateri found another bouquet of roses and a bottle of champagne chilling. “Luis, did you order this?”

  He flashed a smile. “The staff were happy to arrange it.”

  She hated to, but she had to remind him, “I don’t drink.”

  “A drop,” he coaxed.

  “Not even that.” Never. Not with the ghost of her mother haunting her. “But thank you for the thought. It is generous of you.”

  He sent the champagne away and ordered a glass of red wine for himself and, for her, her usual sparkling water with lime. When they had their drinks in hand, he leaned forward. “I propose a toast.”

  She lifted her glass to his.

  “To Kateri Kwinault, the future elected sheriff of Virtue Falls.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears.”

  When she would have clinked, he held up one finger. “And to me, who is at last commander of Virtue Falls station.”

  “Luis, such good news! And well de
served.” She clinked glasses with him, then offered her hand across the table.

  He took it and kissed her fingers.

  “When did it become official?”

  “This afternoon.”

  So he had invited her to dinner knowing full well he had good news, too. But that was all right. “By tomorrow morning the gossip will be in full bloom all over town.”

  His eyes glittered with high spirits. “Shall I call back the champagne?”

  “Not even for you.” She had to confess to disappointment that he had not remembered or believed in her no-alcohol rule.

  He didn’t press her again, and the dinner proved truly a celebration for them both. With excellent food before them, they easily fell back into the old camaraderie, exchanging stories of the Coast Guard and gossip from town, and they conducted a serious discussion about Kateri’s chances for election. She told their waiter about Luis’s promotion, which led to an announcement to the diners, who applauded and offered their congratulations.

  Luis had never looked so handsome, and Kateri felt a fleeting pity for his girlfriend, Sienna. Her demands had made Luis flee; she must be crying every night.

  The desserts had been served when Margaret Smith made her nightly appearance. At ninety-six, Margaret was tiny and frail, and in the past year, her walker had become her constant companion. But as the flesh failed, Kateri saw the spark of her soul burning ever brighter.

  Luis and Kateri stood as she came to their table, and she kissed them both. “I heard the grand news about both of you! It is good to see you celebrating together.” In the quavering voice, Kateri could hear a faint Irish brogue.

  “We have a history,” Luis said.

  “So you do.” Margaret looked into Kateri’s face and with fragile fingers stroked Kateri’s cheek. “You’re looking well, child.” When her maître d’ tried to set a chair for her, she waved him away. “No, Harold, these children want to enjoy their celebration in peace.” As she made her way through the dining room, men and women stood to speak to her. Of the people who dined there tonight she knew almost every one by name; once she met you, she never forgot.

  “She’s an extraordinary woman,” Luis said.

  “She directed my rescue from the ocean. Her people brought me to shore and notified Coast Guard rescue.”