I've Got My Eyes on You

Mike was as dumbfounded as the others. Scott Kimball must have somehow found out that Valerie had confided in Kerry. He took out his cell phone, went to Contacts and tapped Aline’s cell number. She didn’t pick up. Is she in trouble? “I have to check on Aline,” he said abruptly.

“Go,” Angela said. “I’ve got things covered here.”

He rushed out of the room, ran out the door and to his car. As he was driving he called the Saddle River Police. “Send units immediately to the Chapman house, 15 Waverly Road. Scott Kimball, white male, early thirties, a rapist, and probably a murderer, might be there.”





77




They walked downstairs, out the back door and across the lawn. As they entered the Dowling property, Jamie stopped. He bent his head down and started walking around, looking at the grass.

“Jamie, what are you doing?”

“It’s not here,” he said.

“What’s not here?” Aline asked.

“The golf club. It was on the grass.”

“Wait here, Jamie.”

Aline sprinted around to the garage, grabbed a club, brought it back to where Jamie was standing and handed it to him.

“It was here,” he said, putting the club in the grass, and then picking it back up. “I wanted to help Kerry clean up.”

“Show me what you did with it.”

Jamie picked up the club and carried it over to the pool area. Looking at the end of the club, he said, “This one is clean. The other one was dirty.” He put it on top of a recliner at the side of the pool.

So when Jamie picked up the club off the lawn and brought it to the pool area, he believed he was helping to clean up, Aline thought. That explains why his fingerprints are on the murder weapon.

She followed closely behind him. They were facing the patio.

“You’re doing a great job, Jamie. Did Alan come back after the party to see Kerry?”

“Yes.”

“Show me what he did, where he came from.”

Jamie walked to the side of the house, out of her sight.

Then he turned around and came back. He picked up the club off the recliner and laid it on the stone patio. “Alan did this,” Jamie said as he picked it up again and leaned it against a patio chair.

“Then what did Alan do?” Aline asked quietly. “Make believe I’m Kerry. Do everything Alan did.”

Jamie walked over to her. He gave her a hug, then kissed her forehead. He then walked away and around the side of the house.

When Jamie came back, Aline said, “We are still playing the pretend game. I want you to pretend that I’m Kerry. Now show me what the Big Guy did. Show me where he came from.”

Jamie walked to the other side of the backyard that bordered the woods.

Aline felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the name on the screen. “Mike Wilson.” She was making progress with Jamie and didn’t want to stop. I’ll call him back, she thought.

Jamie began tiptoeing across the backyard. As he approached the patio, he motioned Aline to stand closer to the pool.

“Turn around,” he said. Aline faced away from Jamie but glanced back over her shoulder at him. Jamie picked up the putter that was leaning against the chair. As he came closer to her he raised the putter high over his head and began to swing it.

“Okay, Jamie, that’s enough,” Aline said as she raised her hands to protect herself.

“That’s what Big Guy did.”

“So the Big Guy came out of the woods. He picked up the club and hit Kerry. Then what did he do?”

Jamie nodded as he threw the club into the grass past the pool.

Forcing the words from her lips, Aline asked, “Jamie, are you the Big Guy who hit Kerry?”

Jamie seemed bewildered by the question. He shook his head, looked all around and when he glanced over at the woods, his expression changed. Pointing emphatically, he yelled, “Aline, he did it. He hit her. Big Guy pushed her in the water.”





78




Mike sped down Chestnut Ridge Road and turned onto Waverly Road. Instinct told him not to turn on the siren. If Kimball was with Aline, Mike did not want him to have advance warning of his arrival.

He pulled into the Chapman driveway, sprinted the twenty yards to the front door and rang the bell. While waiting, he slipped the safety off his sidearm holster.

“Come on, Aline, answer,” he said out loud as he rang again and pounded on the door with an open hand.





79




Aline was stunned at the sight of Scott Kimball. He was walking toward them, a pistol pointed at them. His smile was a twisted grimace. He began to laugh.

He looked at Jamie. “One day after lacrosse practice you told me your dad called you Big Guy. I told you that’s what my dad called me.”

Stunned, Aline cried, “Scott, what are you doing here? Are you crazy?”

“No, you are, Aline,” he said. “Same as Kerry. Pumping Valerie to tell you things that are none of your business.” He laughed loudly. “What is it about you and Kerry that people talk to you when they should keep their mouths shut? I could tell last month that Valerie was getting harder to control. It was only a matter of time before she talked to somebody. I had a feeling that somebody was going to be your sister Kerry. I put a tracking device on Kerry’s car. It’s still on there, by the way, on the car you’re driving. That’s how I know you went to see Valerie this morning. But let’s get back to Kerry. That Saturday morning when Kerry picked up Valerie, I followed the signal to the diner. They got a window seat. The same one you sat in when you showed the waitress the pictures. I couldn’t hear what Kerry and Valerie were saying, but from watching I could tell that Valerie was spilling the beans to her.”

Aline shrieked, “You killed Kerry! Why?”

“It’s Valerie’s fault. She came on to me.”

“But why did you kill Kerry?”

“Aline, I had to. Valerie was easy to control. Kerry, no chance. Lucky for me, I got wind of Kerry’s little beer bash. I waited for an hour in the woods over there, until Kerry was alone. I was about to make an appearance when who comes around the corner but Kerry’s Romeo, Alan Crowley.”

“He gave Kerry a hug and a kiss,” Jamie said.

“I know he did, Jamie. I was watching. But what I hadn’t figured on, and this is very bad news for you, Jamie, is that you also were watching—”

Aline interrupted, “You’re a coward, Scott. You crept up on my sister and—”

“Oh, that wasn’t the plan, Aline. I had every intention of shooting her. But when Alan Crowley brought that golf club over to the patio and then took off, let’s just say I improvised.”

Aline was trying to think of any way she could to keep him talking. She thought of the call she hadn’t taken from Mike. I’ve got to keep stalling until he gets here.

Scott was coming closer to them.

“Scott, you don’t have to do this,” Aline pleaded.

“Oh, yes, I do, Aline. With you out of the picture, you and your friend Jamie, Valerie will keep her mouth shut. Just like last time.”





80




Maybe she brought Jamie back to her house, Mike thought. He started toward his car but then remembered that a quick cut through the backyards would get him there faster. As he started around the side of the Chapman house, he saw that the lights were on in the Dowling backyard. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Aline and Jamie standing by the pool. He was about to call out to her, but he stopped. She wasn’t talking to Jamie. Instead they were both looking toward the wooded area that bordered the property. Aline was standing in front of Jamie as if to protect him.

Mike moved quietly across the Chapman rear yard and made his way to the row of hedges that separated the properties. He could see a man approaching them with a gun in his hand. The wail of faraway police sirens began.

Mike pulled out his pistol, put his left hand under his right fist and assumed a firing stance.

“Kimball,” he yelled. “Freeze! Drop the gun!”

Scott swerved in the direction of Mike’s voice. Aline turned, pushed Jamie to the ground and sprawled protectively on top of him.