Page 43 of I’ll Be Watching You

We waited, then got out of the car and walked half a block to her house.

I knocked on the door. Georgia answered.

“Hello, Georgia,” I said.

She stared at me. “Well, shit.”

“Your mom told me that Liz Swanson was murdered yesterday,” Georgia said.

We sat in the cramped living room of her very clean but tiny house. It was smaller than mine. But I didn’t live a short walk to the beach. The open windows brought in the sound of the ocean two blocks away, a soft, steady hush meant to soothe. I wasn’t soothed. I wanted answers.

“Yes,” I said bluntly. “She was on her way to meet me.”

Georgia shrugged, her dark eyes flicking toward the window, but not before I caught the gleam of tears.

“You told Liz to call me,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Why?”

She didn’t say anything at first, but I could see that she was struggling. Maybe I should be more sensitive. I was willing to give her the moment, but I wasn’t going to let her avoid my questions.

Then she said, “Liz was a friend.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “More than a friend, really. Like, a big sister. I’m not close to my family, and Liz is so friendly and supportive. She trained me when I started at the VA. It was my first job. We used to have coffee together a couple times a week. She’s the one who told me about Devin’s assistant position opening because she knew that’s what I wanted to do. I hated being a nurse. I’m not a people person.”

She didn’t have to tell me that, but I didn’t comment.

“She gave me a recommendation. I loved that job, and I loved working for Devin. I learned so much . . .” Her voice trailed off and then she shook her head as if to clear the memories. “Anyway, we kept in touch over the last three years. Just Christmas cards and check-ins. She was worried about me because I quit abruptly, and I didn’t tell her anything, because I knew there was something wonky going on. After you tracked me down in Tucson, I started thinking again.”

When she stopped, I said, “Thinking about what?”

“Just . . . you reminded me that the real killer was still out there. I mean, I didn’t know it. I almost convinced myself that Dr. Cooper was guilty because it was much easier to believe that than to think that there was a killer who might come after me.”

She paused again, but this time I didn’t push. She would tell me her story in her own way, and if it wasn’t to my satisfaction, I would ask more questions.

“I was just his assistant, no one really knew me. My job was mostly analytical and clerical. Thinking I was in danger seemed ridiculous, but I also knew that Devin was becoming obsessed with a drug trial he was certain had been falsified.” She paused. “I wondered if I should have told you when you found me in Tucson. Instead, I called Ava. I told her I didn’t tell you anything, but the next day she showed up at my work, furious I’d even spoken to you. I assured her I told you just enough that you would go away, which is exactly what she had told me to do.”

I was getting angry all over again at my mom. I was about to ask about Nadine, when Georgia continued. “She offered to get me a new identity, a job out of state. I wanted to tell her to shove it, but she pointed out something I’d been intentionally avoiding. If the people behind Devin’s death found out I might know something more about it because of your investigation—” she flung her wrist toward me “—then I was in danger too. Even though I don’t know who or why or how. I just know that Devin was looking into the data of this drug trial he had several patients involved in.”

“Do you think she was right?” I asked. “That you might be in danger?”

Georgia got up and went to the kitchen. It was only a couple feet away. She put on a teakettle. “Tea? I don’t drink coffee.”

“No thanks,” I said. I glanced at Luisa sitting next to me, and she shook her head.

Georgia put on the water, then came back to the living room, but leaned against the counter that separated the space from the kitchen.

“I never had the smoking gun,” she said. “And I didn’t know enough information about what Devin was doing to go to the police. I thought about going to the administrator’s office, but even then, what could I say? ‘Oh, Dr. Klein thought that the Phase 1 drug trial is missing data because one of his patients died and it wasn’t in the final report.’ ”

“That seems pretty damning to me,” I said.

“I couldn’t prove it. When I went back to his office, everything he had about the trial was gone.”

“That alone is suspicious. And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“Your mother,” she said flatly. “She said whoever killed Devin had destroyed any evidence that might point at them. But she told me to remain silent because if I said anything Dr. Cooper might be killed in prison. I didn’t want that on my conscience.”

I leaned in. “Start from the beginning. What did Devin find in this trial? What trial was it? Who was involved and are they still at the VA?”