Page 22 of I’ll Be Watching You

“For who, Cooper? Liz and her husband were killed. They have two teenage boys. Remaining silent—I don’t see how that’s an option anymore.”

There was a sound in the background, and Ava said, “Go, don’t get in trouble.”

“I love you, Ava.”

Then he ended the call and Ava stared at the dead phone.

It was dawn before she slept.

Chapter Eight

Margo Angelhart

I arrived at my mom’s house early, bringing coffee. I hadn’t been able to sleep much, and Cal left before dawn for an interagency meeting in Yuma, so I couldn’t even use him as a morning distraction. Judging by Mom’s wrinkled skirt and heavy concealer, she hadn’t slept much either.

“Would you mind driving my car?” she asked, handing me the keys to her Escalade. “It’s more comfortable.”

“You’re letting me drive? Sure.” I wouldn’t complain about using Mom’s luxury SUV because, while I loved my old Jeep Wrangler, it was basic.

We left just before eight, braving commuter traffic through downtown Phoenix. After we passed the airport, it was smooth sailing toward Eyman Prison.

Mostly in silence.

Now and then, Mom would ask me something.

“How’s Cal?”

“Good. He cooked for me the other night.”

“That’s nice.”

Silence again.

Eventually, I said, “You know, if you just tell me what you know, this would be a lot easier.”

“Your father has to be the one to speak,” she said.

More silence.

Then Mom: “Did you get fitted for your maid-of-honor dress? Tess was worried that you’d miss your appointment.”

“I didn’t miss it. The dress is beautiful.”

“It’ll be a lovely wedding.”

“Mom—”

“Please, Margo. I can’t talk about this. I just can’t.” She paused, then added, “Cooper called me last night. From a cell phone.”

That stopped me cold.

“And?”

“The warden was arguing with someone on a call yesterday about your father. A guard overheard it but didn’t know any details. I’m worried.”

My heart flipped. Had I put Dad in danger? He was trapped and vulnerable. But how could my visit have prompted scrutiny? I drove down nearly every week. Our conversation had been semiprivate—no one was close enough to hear, not the guards or the other prisoners.

“No one overheard us,” I said, more to myself than to her.