Seeing Red (35 page)

“I came through the marsh. I’ll leave that way while the police are here with you. Then I’ll wait for you at the marina, on the dock side of the restaurant. Park and go in as if you’re going to dinner. It’ll be getting dark by then. Wait a minute or so and come out onto the dock. We’ll go to the plantation by water.”

Sounded reasonable.

“I was going back to Seaside Apartments to talk to Kimberly’s roommate again, to bring photos of Alexander and see if Ava or anyone else around there has seen him.”

“Good plan. But we’ll go together, after the marina.”

“No. I’ll go on my way. It’s too dangerous for you. They’re still investigating the murder. Besides, then it’ll be closer to dark when I get to the restaurant.”

He thought it over for a minute. “I don’t want you running around alone.”

“I’ve been doing it all day long. I’m careful. Sam has been serving as my personal escort when I come and go from here.”

“Good. But keep in mind,
I’m
your personal hero.” He kissed her. “Don’t let him get any ideas.”

She smiled, suppressing the effervescent bubbles that his statement released in her belly.

“Get dressed and call the police about that doll,” he said as he got off the bed.

She suddenly felt awkward gathering up her wildly discarded clothing. She kept her back to him as she did. Once she finished dressing, she turned to him and asked, “Are you missing any other screwdrivers?”

He started toward the bedroom door. “Until today, I didn’t know I was missing one.” He sounded so offhand that it made her worried he might be getting reckless.

“Nate, what if Alexander planted evidence on that doll that will point directly to you?”

He paused in the doorway and shrugged. “They already have my fingerprints on a murder weapon. How much worse can it get? If there’s the slightest chance he left something that we can use against him, we have to look for it.”

How much worse can it get?
The possibilities swam in her head until she felt a little dizzy.

Why was Alexander working so hard to frame Nate?

Too bad Mr. Buckley wouldn’t be the voice of reason to the local police. Now wasn’t the time; if she told him about Buckley, she’d have to go into what she discovered in the transcripts. Daylight was burning.

Nate laid his hand on the side of her neck. “Call the police. I want you at the restaurant before it’s fully dark.” He pulled her close and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “And be careful. Watch for anyone following your car.”

“I know. I know.” She nudged him toward the door. “You be careful yourself.”

She waited until she saw him skirt around and disappear into the landscaping that led to the marsh. And then she called the police.

Les Winkler didn’t seem in the least swayed as Ellis explained that she thought Alexander had left this doll as a confession of sorts.

“And why would he do that?” Les asked. “If he killed her, why do something to incriminate himself?”

With Nate’s distracting presence gone, Ellis was able to focus on the facts more clearly. And it was becoming harder and harder to come up with logical arguments to contradict the officer’s conviction that Nate Vance was guilty of multiple crimes.

“Alexander wants to frighten me,” she said. “He wants me to know he can get in my place—that despite my precautions, I’m vulnerable to him here.”

“Sounds contradictory to his goal, if, as you say, he wants to harm you. Why warn you? And the alarm?” Les asked. “How would Alexander have known that? Don’t you think it more likely that Nate Vance noted the code when he saw you enter it?” His face softened. “Ms. Greene, this isn’t at all like you. You’re ignoring the facts. You’re doing exactly what you warn the students of your self-defense class against. We have a murdered girl. Vance’s fingerprints are on the murder weapon.”

This isn’t at all like you . . . .
Les’s words sent doubt piercing to her core.

It
wasn’t
like her. Since Nate’s return, she’d abandoned and compromised her own cautious nature, but only when it came to him. She’d instantly accepted things that were contradictory to reason.

Nate hadn’t been with her when any of the intimidating items had been left for her.

He’d been conveniently at her door when she’d discovered the doll.

He could know the code; certainly that made more sense than Alexander somehow figuring it out, or Rory suddenly changing his nature and sneaking into her place and leaving that doll.

Why, though, would Nate want to frighten her?

There was another blinding fact. As of today, she had proof that Nate was a liar—he’d lied under oath. How much more suspect could that be?

Had she been mesmerized by infatuation? Blinded by latent teenage worship?

But why would Nate have done any of those things?

And why, if he had, would he have insisted on keeping the police involved?

The only thing for her to do was push on, dig for the truth, whatever that might be. If Nate wanted to hurt her, he’d had more than enough chances.

Still, Les’s words rang in her ears.
This isn’t like you . . . .

No, it wasn’t. Nothing about her was the same since Nate had returned.

Les waited and followed Ellis out of the complex. Odd, she thought as she exited, Sam and the Gator were away from the gatehouse again.

Luckily, Les turned right when she went left, toward Seaside Apartments. He was just one of the people she didn’t want following her.

On her way, she called to check on her parents. Just before she hung up, her mother asked Ellis if she’d seen Uncle Greg.

“No. Haven’t you?” Ellis asked.

“No. But truthfully, we usually go days without talking. I just thought with your dad in the hospital . . . ”

“You know how he’s run himself into the ground. He’s probably sleeping. Have you tried to call him?”

“Yes,” her mother said. “It goes right to voice mail. His phone must be off.”

“Well, if you can’t get ahold of him before you leave the hospital, why don’t you have either Charlie or Ben go by his house and check on him?”

“Good idea.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“You’re staying in?” Her mother’s tone was peremptorily reproving.

Ellis didn’t tell her that “in” wasn’t as safe as it should be. “Don’t worry.”

As before, she drove past Seaside Apartments, went around the block, drove past again, and did a U-turn. Satisfied she wasn’t being followed, she pulled into the parking lot. It was nearly full now.

She started with Ava.

When the girl answered the door, Ellis said, “I brought a photo to show you.” She held it up. “Did you ever see this guy? Maybe someplace when you girls were out?”

Ava studied the picture for a few seconds, then shook her head. “Nice-looking guy. I’d have remembered seeing him.”

“Well, remember his face. He’s the one who killed Kimberly.”

“But . . . but he looks so . . . nice.” She sounded like a child who’d just been betrayed by Santa Claus.

“Well, he’s not. He’s a monster.”

Ava swallowed and handed the photo back.

Ellis then went door to door with Alexander’s photograph. No one remembered seeing him. Until she reached the last apartment. A middle-aged woman dressed like a twenty-year-old and wearing a frightening amount of makeup answered the door. As she opened it, she yelled over her shoulder, “Turn down that TV!”

Ellis didn’t notice any decrease in the sound level as she introduced herself as someone investigating the murder. She showed the woman the photograph.

The lady tilted her head slightly as she studied it and tapped one ridiculously long French-tipped nail against her chin. “You know . . . I think maybe . . . ”

Ellis prompted, “Anything will help.”

She clucked her tongue. “Well, there was so much confusion that morning. There was this guy . . . ” Her brow furrowed. “He had on sunglasses and a ball cap.” She tapped the photo with a long nail. “But I’m pretty sure it was him. Nice jawline.”

“Where was he? What time?”

“I suppose it was ’bout seven-fifteen or so. He was just standing there with the rest of us, trying to figure out what was going on.”

“Did he say anything? Talk to anyone?”

She shook her head and waved her hand, talonlike nails clawing the air. “I can’t remember. Everybody was talkin’ at once.”

Ellis wrote her cell phone number on the back of the photo and handed it to the woman. “Maybe you can show this around. And if you happen to remember anything else, please call me.”

The woman took the photo. “Can’t imagine I will.”

“Well, just in case,” Ellis said with an encouraging smile.

As she walked to her car in the dusky light, she realized how the shadows had collected beneath the overgrown landscaping around the parking lot. The clouds had gathered, obscuring the last of the sunlight.

Remembering how easily Kimberly Potter had been snatched from here made Ellis ultra cautious as she approached her car.

That man in the crowd certainly could have been Alexander. He might have returned to get a look at the fallout from his handiwork. He was a voyeur, after all. And he had gone snooping around the hospital after Laura’s attack. Maybe he’d been the one to start the rumor about the black Hummer.

If that was the case, he knew Nate drove it. Did he know it belonged to Belle Creek Plantation? If so, they weren’t going to be any safer at the plantation than in her condo.

Dusk had settled and the lights had come on in the parking lot at the marina when Ellis arrived. Only one car followed her down the last stretch of narrow road. She waited and watched as it parked. Two women got out and headed toward the restaurant. Ellis grabbed her tote off the passenger seat and followed them in.

As soon as she entered, she ducked into the ladies’ room. Pulling a lightweight black knit jacket from her tote, she slipped it on over her pink silk top, zipping it high enough that the pink didn’t show. She’d been wearing her hair in a twist; she took out the clip and let it fall around her shoulders. She finger-combed it close to her face.

Coming out, she walked through the restaurant with her face tilted down, then went through the door that led to the outdoor dining area.

All of the tables had umbrellas whose skeletons were outlined in tiny white lights, leaving the areas between dimly lit. Luckily, it was busy enough that she didn’t stand out.

She opened the little gate and walked down the steps to the public dock. There was a light mounted on a pole over the gas pump; she lingered just outside its radius and looked for Nate.

At first she thought he wasn’t there. Then she heard a low whistle.

She moved forward, skirting the cone of light at the gas pump, feeling the floating dock rock beneath her footsteps.

She found Nate in the johnboat parked between two larger craft.

The instant she saw him, the tightness left her shoulders and the tension vanished from her stomach.

That reaction immediately made her doubt herself. She knew Nate didn’t kill Kimberly Potter. But was she blindly ignoring warning signs of other things, as Les Winkler said?

Nate smiled and reached up for her tote. “I was getting worried.”

She stood rooted in place, her tote firmly on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

There were things she had to say before she got into this boat with him and went out into the dark river. Before his proximity overtook everything else.

After a deep breath, she said, “I went to the Clerk of Courts office today.”

He stepped up onto the dock beside her. “Why?”

She ignored his question; she wanted to bring things out in her own order. “Did you know Alexander had been on trial for rape before he attacked Laura?”

“No.” His voice was tight.

“He was acquitted. The transcripts weren’t in the database, so I don’t know the details.”

“Goddammit.”

“I know.”

After a moment, he said, “You didn’t answer my question—why did you go?” His tone didn’t indicate he had anything to hide.

“Hoping to discover something from the trial that would give us a leg up on Alexander. And”—she paused—“I’m tired of viewing that entire event through the eyes of a sheltered thirteen-year-old. I’d already discovered I was wrong about some things.”

“Like what?”

“Like your relationship with Laura—and Laura herself, for that matter.” She looked him in the eyes. “Why did you and Laura fight that night?”

He closed his eyes briefly. His face contorted as if he didn’t like what he was seeing behind his closed lids. “We fought about the same thing we always fought about. I caught her in some dude’s car giving him a . . .
favor
in exchange for buying her booze.”

The picture his words painted in her mind made her stomach roll, brought into sharp focus what she’d been able to keep an indistinct concept.

She finally managed to find her voice again. “You didn’t say that in your testimony.”