Page 42 of I'm Watching You

They’d only talked about her mother’s death once. As a husband he’d let his unanswered questions lie. As a cop he couldn’t. ‘Did your mother think she could handle your father?’

Lindsay flinched, glancing to Warwick. He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. It was one thing for Zack to know about her past; quite another for Warwick. Humiliation washed over her.

‘My mother has nothing to do with Harold Turner’s murder.’

Zack didn’t enjoy opening a painful wound. He’d always avoided discussing the subject with her because he knew it bothered her. ‘Your family life was beyond rough, Lindsay. That changes a person.’

Warwick glanced in the rearview mirror at her, as if trying to peer into her mind.

Lindsay lifted her chin. ‘I went into social work and opened Sanctuary because of Mom. I didn’t become a murderer because of her.’

Zack shot her a glance in the rearview mirror. ‘The Commonwealth’s attorney could argue that because you couldn’t have it out with your old man, you picked the next best target – Harold.’

‘That’s crap. Remember the killer sentmeHarold’s hand.’

‘You could have sent it to yourself,’ Warwick said.

She leaned forward, fingers gripping the seat. ‘And written myself a creepy note?’

Warwick turned toward her. ‘You wouldn’t be the first to try something like that.’

‘I can’t believe we are having this conversation.’ Her voice sounded loud, angry.

Warwick kept his tone even, calm, but the menace was unmistakable. ‘Whoever killed Harold did it in anger. Hecut offHarold’s left hand. If that isn’t a statement about shattered vows, I don’t know what is.’

‘I didn’t kill him.’

‘You don’t have an alibi,’ Zack said.

‘I can’t help that. It’s not my fault the damn power went out.’ Arms folded, she dropped back in the seat and turned toward the window. She swiped away a tear.

The only time Zack had seen her cry had been that day in the attorney’s office. Tension twisted his gut.

Five minutes later, they reached her town house development. Well-manicured lawns jutted out from near identical row houses that looked as if they’d been stamped from cookie cutters. This kind of development was veryun-Lindsay. She’d always leaned more toward the older, quirky homes that needed more attention than a full-time job. Why had she chosen such a place? Zack kept his question to himself as he parked in the numbered spot she directed him to. A sprinkler system whooshed in the background and a dog barked.

‘Thanks,’ she said ironically, opening her car door. She walked to the planter, tipped it back, and retrieved the front door key.

Following, Zack didn’t bother to hide the frustration in his voice. ‘From now on, don’t hide the key there.’

Lindsay shoved the key in the lock. ‘I can take care of myself.’

He flashed a smile that looked more like a snarl. ‘Humor me.’

A flicker of movement caught his eye. A man dressed in a green maintenance uniform moved toward them. Blond, pudgy, and short, he was smiling as he held hedge clippers in his hand.

Zack moved his right hand to his belt closer to the .22 holstered on his hip.

Warwick got out of the car and leaned against it. His demeanor stated he was ready to intervene if necessary.

‘Lindsay,’ the maintenance man said. ‘What are you doing home in the middle of the day?’

Zack and Warwick watched the man very closely.

Lindsay seemed to relax around him. ‘Hey, Steve. How’s it going?’

Steve glanced at Zack and Warwick. His eyes narrowed. ‘You friends of Lindsay’s?’

Ole Steve seemed a little territorial when it came to Lindsay. ‘Detective Zack Kier,’ Zack said as he flipped open his wallet and showed his police badge. ‘This is my partner, Detective Warwick.’

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