I'm Watching You (26 page)

The questions surprised Lindsay. No one had ever asked them before. The
people had always focused on the pain and sadness. Normally, she kept her
emotions bottled tight, but sometimes, they bubbled over, and now hot tears
burned her eyes. She swallowed. "She loved her gardens. And she loved
music."

Audrey moved beside her. "What's your favorite memory of
her?"

Lindsay cleared her throat. "There are a lot. She was at every one
of my swim meets cheering me on. She baked the best chocolate cakes for my
birthday. And she gardened for hours. When I was ten she won a blue ribbon for
her tomatoes at some fair."

Audrey touched Lindsay's shoulder. "I'm sorry you lost
her. I know she'd be very proud of you."

Stunned, Lindsay's hands hung stiffly by
her side.
"Thanks."

Audrey squeezed Lindsay's arm. "I'd love to see a
picture of her."

"I have a box at home."

"Sometime you'll show it to me?"

"Sure." It was a promise Lindsay doubted she'd ever
keep.

Talking about her mother stirred a deep restlessness inside her. Work
usually kept the old issue at bay, but without it she felt backed into a
corner.

She needed space. She needed time alone. "Audrey, can I borrow
your car? I'd like to go visit my mother's grave. It's only
about five miles from here."

Audrey planted a hand on her hip. "I will if you stay in Hanover
and promise not to go home until Zack gives the all clear."

The mother was as shrewd as the son.
"Deal."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

"All right."

Ten minutes later, Lindsay was headed north into Hanover County. After
several miles she turned off of Route 360 and headed down a smaller road that
cut through rolling cornfields. A few more twists and turns of the road and she
arrived at the quiet cemetery where her mother was buried.

She passed through the twin brick pillars at the entrance; waved to the
groundskeeper, who smiled back at her; and drove to her mother's grave.
Located in a treeless grassy part of the park, the grave site was set apart
from the others. She parked Audrey's car on the access road and walked
through the wet grass to the grave site.

She'd come empty-handed. No flowers, no greens to fill the urn
that was usually set upside down and empty. Guilt washed over her. She'd
not done such a good job of tending her mother's grave in the last year.

Thick, hot air and afternoon sun made her sweat, but she savored the
gentle sound of the leaves being rustled by the breeze. She'd forgotten
how quiet the country could be.

When she reached her mother's spot, she was surprised to discover
that the brass urn was turned right-side up and filled with freshly cut white
roses.

Lindsay knelt by the bronze plate, unable to take her eyes off the
roses. Gingerly, she touched a silky petal. "Who put the roses
here?"

She glanced around at the headstones, still decorated with Independence
Day reds, whites, and blues.

There was no one around.

She frowned. "Roses were your favorite."

It touched her heart that someone had remembered her mother.

She picked up a stray leaf and tossed it aside. "I saw Zack. He
looked good and had clear eyes and a steady hand. It's as if he never
drank." She shook her head. "All the crap that guy put me through
and he still makes me weak in the knees."

Until this week, she'd thought her feelings for Zack were dead and
buried. But after seeing him again, she realized he was still under her skin.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do about him."

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine her mother's bright smile
and the advice that would follow. But in the silence, there were no answers.

She dusted the dirt from her palms. Sweat damped her shirt and plastered
her bangs to her head.

The crunch of gravel had her turning. A tall, lean man stood ten feet
from her. The sun behind his back shadowed his face.
"Afternoon."

Rising, she shadowed her eyes with her hand. She recognized the cemetery
caretaker. They'd never spoken before but she'd seen him out here
before. "Hey, how's it going?"

The caretaker smiled. He had rawboned features, tanned skin, and rough
hands that looked used to manual labor. "Going well, thanks." He
glanced at the headstone. "Who are you here to visit today?"

"My mom."

"I've never seen you here before."

The simple comment stirred guilt. "Yeah, I've been busy. I
haven't been such a good daughter. But I was here at Easter. I think I
saw you then."

He nodded. "Sorry, don't remember."

"I was leaving and you were coming."

He glanced at the headstone. "You couldn't have been more
than a kid when she died."

"Yeah."

"I bet you were a fine daughter when she was alive."

"I always felt like I should have done more."

"We all do the best we can at any given time."

Emotion tightened her throat. "Sure is a hot day, isn't
it?"

He stared at her for a long moment and then pulled the bill of his hat
forward. "Supposed to top a hundred, I hear."

"I can believe it. Hey, do you know who put these flowers in this
urn?"

He frowned. "No, don't believe I do. Are they a
problem?"

She squinted into the sun. "No. No. I just thought it might be
some mistake. Mom didn't have many relatives except me."

"Well, the ladies at the church down the road put flowers on
graves from time to time.
Especially around a holiday."

"That's kind. Is there anyone at the church I can
thank?"

"Oh, they're not looking for thanks.
Just
happy to do it."
He touched the bill of his hat. "Well,
I've leaves to rake and flowers to plant. You have a good day. I've
got to get back to work."

"Thanks."

He turned and walked back to his pickup truck. Lindsay captured another
petal between her fingertips.
Soft.
Delicate.
As she pulled her hand away, she saw a white slip of paper. She removed it from
the tangle of stems and unfolded it. Written in bold Times Roman print was the
statement,
You
are stronger than her.

The Guardian
.
For a moment she felt dizzy as she stared at the
words. She glanced around the cemetery. The caretaker was gone.

Her hands trembled as she laid the note on the grass. He'd been
here
. He'd left flowers at her mother's grave.
She dug her cell out of her purse and dialed Zack's number.

Zack answered on the second ring. "Hello."

"Zack,
it's
Lindsay. He was here.
The Guardian was here." She couldn't hide the fear in her voice.

"Where are you?" His voice was razor sharp.

"I'm at my mother's grave." She gave him the
directions.

He swore. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Get in your car
and lock the doors."

Lindsay hugged her arms around her chest. She didn't want to be
afraid. She didn't want to be intimidated. But she was. She went to
Audrey's car, got in, and locked the doors. Despite the heat of the day, she
felt cold.

Less than five minutes later two Hanover deputies appeared. They
inspected the flowers, careful not to touch the note or the urn. They searched
for the caretaker but couldn't find him. All three waited until Zack and
Warwick arrived fifteen minutes later, lights flashing. Lindsay got out of her
car as Zack got out of his. He strode toward her, closing the gap in seconds.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She wanted him to hold her. "Yes."

"Where's the note?" The question came from Warwick.

She didn't pull away from Zack's touch. "I left it by
the grave."

Warwick snapped on rubber gloves. "What did it say?"

"'
You are stronger than her.
'
I think he's talking about my mother." When Warwick only stared,
she added, "She forgave my father over and over again. She was too afraid
or too in love to ever stay away from him too long."

Warwick's gaze darted between Lindsay and Zack. "Is he
referring to your relationship with Zack?"

Zack stood stock straight, his jaw tight. "I think so."

Lindsay pushed her hand through her hair. "It's no secret
that I haven't signed the divorce papers. And if he was watching me this
morning he knew we visited."

"Visited," Warwick said. The word had a volume of meaning.

"Was anyone else out here?" Zack said.

"Just the caretaker."

"Where is he now?" Zack asked, glancing around.

"I don't know. He walked away before I found the
note."

"How do you know he's the caretaker?" By the brick
front gate, Zack spotted a set of surveillance cameras. He pulled out his notebook
and made a notation.

Lindsay thought Zack was being overly paranoid. "I've seen
him here before."

"When did you first notice him?"

"Easter.
He was headed toward this direction with a
rake as I was pulling out of the cemetery. I caught a glimpse of him in the
rearview mirror."

"Have you two spoken before?"

"Not before today."

Zack's expression was grim. "Did he see
you
at Easter?"

"No."

His jaw tightened as he surveyed the deserted grounds. "You
shouldn't have been out here alone."

"I never figured that the Guardian would know about this
place."

"I don't think it's a coincidence that Harold was
killed on Monday, which was the anniversary of your mother's death, and
Saunders was killed on your birthday."

"The Guardian is from my past?"

"I think so."

"Well, it can't be the caretaker. I've never seen him
before."

He tried to smile but failed. "Don't worry. We'll
figure this out."

"Sure." Her knees felt weak. She watched as Warwick and Zack
strode toward the headstone. They knelt by the grave, studied the flowers and
the note.

Another deputy's car arrived as Warwick pulled a pen from his
pocket and gingerly lifted the flap of the note. He read it. His frown
deepened. He spoke to Zack but she couldn't hear what was said. They both
glanced toward the front gate and the cameras.

Zack rose and approached her. "Is that Mom's car?"

"She let me borrow it."

His annoyance seemed to be growing. "I'm taking you back to
my parents' house. And as soon as I can get a sketch artist scheduled
you'll talk to her."

She shook her head. "I didn't see his face. The sun was to
his back."

"Can't hurt to try."

Unconvinced, she got into Audrey's car and, with Zack following,
drove the five miles back to the Kiers'.

When she parked the car, Zack was waiting. He placed his hand in the
small of her back. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

Confused, she tried to follow his train of thought. "It was at the
triathlon in Charlottesville.
The awards ceremony."

"I saw you before that. I was on my second loop of the bike portion
of the race when I came around a corner. You were about a hundred yards ahead
of me. On the side of the road there was a kid, not more than fifteen.
He'd dropped his bike and was holding his stomach. Five racers in front
of you had just passed the kid. You stopped."

She'd never noticed Zack. "He had stomach cramps."

"I rode ahead to the aid station and sent back a medic."

"What does this have to do with us and now?"

"I fell in love with you that day, L. I knew you were the one for
me. The problem is I forgot that along the way. I blew it. But I'm going
to fix this between us."

"You can't fix what I don't want fixed."

He didn't move toward her. "It took me months to screw
things up between us. It'll take at least that long to fix it, but I
will." He moved toward the front door.
So arrogant.

She stood her ground. "Let it go, Zack. Let
us
go."

He opened the front door. "No."

He strode inside.

Numb, she followed and found him lecturing his mother about lending out her
car. Audrey got the message loud and clear. Lindsay was to stay put.

Zack kissed his mother. "I'll be back later tonight."

"Don't strand me here," Lindsay said.

"You're safe with my folks."