Page 15 of I'm Watching You

At five ten, she stood eye to eye with most men. Zack had a good six inches on her. ‘Is it all right if I leave the shelter? I received a call from Mercy Hospital to counsel a battered woman. The doctor is trying to delay her, but hewon’t be able to hold her more than an hour, which leaves me about twenty minutes.’

He seemed to gauge the truth of her words. ‘Keep your cell phone on this time. I want to be able to reach you easily.’

‘It’s always on.’

‘Not this morning.’

He had tried to call.

‘As I said, there was a power outage in my town house complex. I’m sure you can verify it with maintenance. And I put my phone in the charger as soon as I arrived here.’

Zack studied Lindsay again as if trying to pry into her brain.

Lindsay folded her arms over her chest, matching his glare.

‘I’ll be back this afternoon or tomorrow at the latest with the warrant.’

Thanks to Harold’s murder, she would have to deal with all the agonizing baggage she shared with Zack and had done her best to ignore this past year. ‘I can’t wait.’

Chapter Five

Monday, July 7, 11:02A.M.

On the way to the hospital, Lindsay called Jordan Turner twice. The first time she got her voice mail. She didn’t bother to leave a message. What was she going to say? Mrs Turner, did you murder your husband?

Thanks to light midday traffic, Lindsay made good time driving downtown. Still, the Mercy Hospital parking deck was crammed with cars, forcing her to drive to the bottom level, where she found an open spot in a darkened corner.

She shut off the car engine, waited until it shuttered off, got out, and locked the car. Her sandals clicked against concrete as she moved along the line of parked cars. A horn honked, the sound echoing from the level above. A car door closed.

She’d parked on this deck a thousand times before, always cautious but never afraid. However, today, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She scanned the rows of parked cars around her. The air-conditioning system whirred overhead and condensation dripped from the ductwork.

The deck appeared deserted. On a deck below, a car horn honked again. There was no need to be nervous yet her nerves tightened, as if someone were close.

Watching.

She tightened her hold on her purse. ‘Is anyone there?’

No answer.

It wasn’t like her to be so jumpy. Crossing quickly to the elevator, she punched the button, careful to keep her back to the doors. She dug in her purse fishing for her mace and cursed when she couldn’t find it in all the clutter. When the elevator doors whooshed open, she rushed into the empty car. Her heart pounded in her chest.

As the doors closed, a nearby car door slammed shut, the sound echoing from an unseen corner.

Lindsay punched level four, the lobby level. She dragged a shaking hand through her hair. ‘Get a grip.’

Within seconds the elevator doors opened to the muted sounds of gurneys rolling past, carts clattering, and telephones ringing. The smell of antiseptic cleaner blended with the bright hospital lights. Her nerves settled and the parking garage was forgotten.

She walked up to the nurses station and smiled at the familiar face behind the counter. ‘Hey, Jennifer.’

Jennifer Watkins glanced up from a chart and grinned. Red hair scraped back in a tight bun accentuated green eyes that sparkled behind wire-rimmed glasses. ‘What’s shaking, Lindsay?’

‘I missed you at yoga on Friday night.’ She didn’t want to talk about the murder. It would be headlines soon enough.

‘I know. I’m sorry I missed your class. It had been a long day and I was beat.’

Lindsay taught yoga at a small studio near her townhouse. She’d gained a reputation as a patient but exacting instructor. ‘You’ll be better for it if you make the time.’

‘I know, I know. If anyone needs yoga, baby, it’s me. I’m about as flexible as a piece of plywood.’

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