Someone's Watching (22 page)

“Keep walking,” Robbie said in a low voice. “I don’t want her to see me.”

“Who?”

“This girl Maddy, who used to work at The Garage. She’s the server standing by the bar. The one with blonde hair and a mermaid tattoo on her arm.” Robbie figured she didn’t need to specify the large breasts and dimpled butt in the sheer bikini.

“So?” Jeremy said. “What’s the big deal if she sees you?”

“It’s just embarrassing. She quit without notice. Really inconsiderate.”

Just then, Maddy turned toward them holding a tray of drinks. Her eyes met Robbie’s. Maddy looked confused, but then she noticed Jeremy and smiled.

“Hey,” Maddy said, as she got closer. “I was worried for a minute.”

“About?” Robbie said.

“That you were still dating Brett.” She puffed out her chest when she got near Jeremy.

“You know Brett?” Robbie said.

“Yeah. He got me this job. Wasn’t that sweet? Said he had an anonymous client that wanted to make sure I was taken care of. And this pays way better than The Garage so I don’t have to be away from my son so much.”

Was Brett somehow connected to this party?

Maddy raked her fingers through her wild blonde hair, balancing the drink tray in the crook of her other arm. “And like, I heard you and Brett weren’t a thing anymore.”

“We’re not.”

“So as long as my boyfriend doesn’t find out—” Her voice faded off. Robbie followed her eyes.

Brett’s head, with its spiked hair, stuck out above the crowd. He was on the other side of the pool, facing a couple of men. His body was stiff like he was primed to hit someone. And then Robbie noticed the orange ponytail and taut face of Brett’s boss, Mister M. Could this be Mike’s house? Mike’s party? It made sense that Gina would be here; she was a client of their public relations firm.

Mike appeared to be saying something to calm Brett down. Robbie recognized the other guy from BURN Friday night—good-looking, with brown hair and a messed-up lip. He put his hand on Brett’s shoulder. Brett shrugged him off, then pushed through the crowd with the jittery motions of a prizefighter between rounds.

“Jesus,” Maddy said. “What’s everyone so angry about?”

Brett’s eyes connected with Jeremy’s. Then he took in Robbie.

“We should leave,” Robbie said to Jeremy in a low voice. “We don’t need a confrontation.”

But Brett was heading toward them, breathing hard. He didn’t look right—eyes bloodshot, unfocused. Robbie wondered if he’d been taking drugs.

“I’m out of here,” Maddy said, and slithered into the crowd.

Jeremy’s face was tight. He stood with his legs apart and leaned forward like a football player defending his territory.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Brett sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand with a quick motion.

“We happen to have been invited,” Jeremy said.

“No fucking way Mike invited you.”

“We came with Gina Fieldstone,” Robbie said, hoping to defuse the situation. “But we’re leaving.” She tugged on Jeremy’s arm.

“I told you not to fuck with me,” Brett said, poking Jeremy in the ribs with his finger.

“Hey man,” Jeremy said. He put his beer down on a table. “What’s your problem? We’re guests here.”

Robbie became aware of someone beside her. Mike was twirling his ponytail around his finger and scowling as he studied Robbie.

“Hi, Mike,” she said. “Great house.”

He tilted his head, not buying.

“We’re here with Gina Fieldstone,” Robbie said.

“I see. Gina Fieldstone.” Mike gave his ponytail a tug and turned to Brett. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I was.” Brett’s face was red, an odd contrast to his spiked blond hair. It seemed to be an effort for him to speak. “But my friend wants to see the grounds.”

“Fine with me,” Jeremy said, his eyes not moving from Brett’s.

“Jeremy, no.” Robbie grabbed his hand, determined not to let him go.

But Jeremy pulled his hand away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Robbie felt pressure on her shoulder. Mike was leading her away. “I saw Gina over by the buffet table.” Mike waved backward over his head. “You boys watch out for alligators.”

She couldn’t let Jeremy leave with Brett—not with Brett in that angry state. She turned back, but Jeremy and Brett were almost at
the stairs. Mike squeezed tighter. Was he trying to keep Robbie from following them?

The crowd had swelled. She’d never be able to get to them. Her hand still smarted from the sensation of Jeremy pulling out of her grasp. She had lost her mother’s hand, too.

Jeremy, she almost called out, but he was out of sight. “Ah, here she is,” Mike said.

Gina had her back against a column as she watched the party. She had something up against her ear.

“Mrs. Fieldstone,” Mike said.

Gina turned to Mike’s voice, said something into the phone, then slipped it into her clutch.

Mike extended one hand while keeping his other firmly on Robbie’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you could make it, Mrs. Fieldstone.”

Gina smiled, but ignored the hand. A muscle in her neck twitched.

Mike brought his unshaken hand back and twirled his ratty ponytail. “Your little friend was looking for you.”

“Such a big house and so many people,” Gina said, nodding at Robbie. “It’s easy to lose someone. Thanks for reuniting us.”

Mike’s grip on Robbie relaxed, apparently satisfied that Robbie hadn’t crashed his party. But Robbie had to get out of here and find Jeremy before he and Brett went at each other.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” Robbie began backing away.

“What’s your hurry?” Mike asked.

“Bathroom.” She turned and threw herself into the crowd before Mike could stop her.

People were everywhere and Robbie felt like she was in a game where her opponents linked arms and wouldn’t let her escape. It took several minutes for her to pass through the crowd and get to the stairs.

She maneuvered around people sitting on the steps with their
food and drinks, then past the dreadlocked bouncer, and finally was out onto the pebbled path.

The house was surrounded by dense bushes and trees, but lights played only on the front of the house and the red dragon. The mini-forest was dark. Robbie ran through it to the back of the house, calling Jeremy’s name. Dark, silent. The only sound came from the house behind her—music, barely contained by the boxlike walls.

She followed a landscaped path down to the water. The bay was the color of used motor oil and lapped against the man-made beach, a semicircle of dirty sand.

“Jeremy?”

Perhaps he was waiting for her in the car.

Something slinked against her leg and Robbie covered her mouth to contain a scream. But when she looked down, she saw two small glittery lights. Then she heard an annoyed meow. The long-haired cat. It raced through the bushes, then climbed the stairs that led to a deserted side balcony.

Robbie walked back toward the house, then along the bushes beside the pebbled driveway. There were many more cars than when they’d arrived almost an hour ago.

Something in the undergrowth caught her attention. White, shiny. A piece of paper? She bent down and picked it up. A woman’s sandal with a clear Lucite heel. It was unlikely that it had anything to do with Kate, but just in case, Robbie put it in her canvas satchel, then continued through the shrubs.

The Corvair was where they’d left it, hidden in a darkened copse of trees. At first, it looked like Jeremy hadn’t returned. But when Robbie got closer, she realized he was slumped down in the driver’s seat.

She pulled on the door. “Jeremy?”

He opened his eyes. One was swollen and there was blood on his face and white T-shirt.

“My God. Are you okay?”

He nodded.

She got into the car. “What happened?”

“Got things settled.” He turned on the engine and backed the car up.

He drove slowly out the winding roads onto U.S. 1, then headed north.

He didn’t ask if Robbie wanted to spend the night in Key Largo, just continued on through, back to Miami.

Robbie stood in front of her apartment building and watched Jeremy drive away. He hadn’t said a word during the long ride back from Key Largo, even though she’d pressed him repeatedly to tell her what had happened. It had been nerve-racking and even worrisome as she’d glanced over at his bruised face, his bloody shirt. What had gone on in the time he’d been alone with Brett? Had Brett told him lies about Robbie and their relationship? She couldn’t imagine what else could have caused Jeremy to become so remote.

She took the steps up to her apartment slowly. The sky was a tawny black, as though smudged with dirt, and palm fronds hung limp in the still air. There was a tight pain inside Robbie’s chest. A lot like the one she’d felt after her mother had died, when breathing had become a forced effort.

At her door, she got out her house keys. A cat meowed. Robbie turned in its direction. A white cat that looked a lot like Matilda was scurrying toward her along the walkway.

The cat wove around Robbie’s legs. Robbie picked it up.

Dear God, it was Matilda. Outside? Robbie was certain she’d left the cat in the apartment when she went to meet Jeremy earlier this afternoon. How could Matilda have gotten out?

Robbie’s heart started pumping hard. She looked at the kitchen window over the catwalk. It was unbroken and closed. She examined
the door. There were no marks near the lock that suggested someone had broken in.

Still holding Matilda, she tested the doorknob, ready to run if it opened. But the door was secure.

She stuck her key in the lock. The key turned easily, as though she hadn’t double locked it.

Robbie thought back to when she’d left the apartment. She had been wound up about driving down to Key Largo with Jeremy. She had pictured the two of them riding in his old car, as though they’d never been apart. The fantasy had been so strong in Robbie’s head, it was possible she had forgotten to lock the door and hadn’t noticed Matilda slipping out of the apartment.

But what if someone had broken into her apartment while she was gone? Should she call Jeremy? The police?

She went to the kitchen window. Through the sheer curtains, she could make out her laptop on the kitchen table. If an intruder had broken in, wouldn’t he have taken her computer?

She returned to the front door, opened it, then reached over to flip on the light switch while still standing outside.

The living room appeared exactly as she’d left it. Beads, feathers and half-completed jewelry on the tables, an afghan flung over the sofa, books in the bookcases. No sign of forced entry or an intruder.

She must have left the door unlocked. It was out of character for her, but there’d been so much upheaval in Robbie’s life the last ten days, she knew she wasn’t being herself.

She stepped inside and sniffed the air. Cleanser and lemon polish from her cleaning spree the day before. No unusual or unfamiliar smells. She released Matilda and the cat slinked into the kitchen. Robbie could hear her lapping at her water bowl.

She was spooking herself, she decided. After Mike’s house, everything felt off.

At the bedroom door, she turned on the light. The bed was
made, the pillows exactly as she’d left them. Robbie went into the bedroom, checked the closets, the bathroom. Nothing. Just her imagination.

She took a couple of Motrin from the bathroom cabinet and got ready for bed. She slid under the comforter, too tired to remove the throw pillows. She felt strained and weak. The tears came quickly.

Robbie cried and cried. Was it over Jeremy, who had just come so close to getting back in her life? Over the sister she’d never known and might not ever? Or over her lost childhood with a sick mother and a father who had been unwilling to reclaim her until recently?

She didn’t remember falling asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she felt sore all over. She went into the kitchen and pressed a couple of ice cubes against her puffy eyelids while the coffee brewed. The outside light was too bright, too happy. Robbie brought a mug of coffee back into her bedroom. She left the shades drawn and got under the covers, propping up the pillows behind her. Her cell phone was on the nightstand. Should she call Jeremy? Find out how he was doing? Maybe apologize? But for what? What could Brett have said to him?

The phone rang as she reached for it. Eagerly, she checked the caller ID. Not Jeremy. It said RESTRICTED. Lieber?

Had the detective found out that Robbie and Jeremy had gone to Key Largo, and was calling to reprimand her? Reluctantly, Robbie opened her phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Robbie,” Lieber said. “I need for you to come down to the station.”

Coffee sloshed over the top of Robbie’s mug, wetting her hand, and spilling on the sheets. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We’ll discuss it when you get here.”

“Is it about Kate? Have you found her?”

“It’s not about Kate.” Lieber’s voice softened. “Please, Robbie. We’ll talk at the station.”

Lieber hung up before Robbie could say anything else.

She dressed quickly, made sure that Matilda stayed behind in the apartment, then double locked the door.

Gabriele was just arriving home, carrying a pair of very high heels and padding across the catwalk in his bare feet. His ebony skin gleamed in the sunlight and his platinum wig was at an unnatural angle on his head.

Robbie remembered walking into her mother’s bedroom, surprising her as she stood in front of her dresser mirror adjusting her wig. Her mother had turned to Robbie, the wig still off center, and had given Robbie a big smile. Her mother’s eyes were bright with tears. And she knew at that moment her mother would soon be gone. That Robbie would be all alone.

“Good morning.” Gabriele covered a yawn with his hand.

“Morning.” Robbie waved and started down the stairs.

“Someone staying with you?”

Robbie came to a short stop. “What?” She turned back.

“I was wondering if you have a guest.”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“I saw someone by your front door yesterday. I thought maybe he was staying with you.”