Zelly had told them that Janet said she would help her in any way possible, even to paying her lawyer’s fees. “She was an angel,” Zelly said. “Put on this earth to help others.”
“I don’t think that’s the way Gil sees it,” Jack mumbled. With all this going on, no wonder Gil shot a nail through his foot, he thought. No wonder he’d driven away cursing.
Why didn’t he tell me? Jack asked himself. Why didn’t Gil come to him and tell him of the situation?
Because of what Kate called “the legendary Wyatt temper”? Or because Gil thought he could handle everything himself? How? By killing Janet Beeson? Without her backing, the idiot Zelly wouldn’t be able to pay a lawyer, wouldn’t have the courage to pursue a goal she only thought she wanted. He couldn’t imagine her living in Gil’s new house, helping Quinn with his homework, and going to church on Sundays. She wouldn’t last two weeks!
When they got to the house, Jack saw that Chet’s van was still under the trees. In the garage was Sara’s MINI.
They went through the courtyard and into Kate’s suite. He turned to Zelly. “I want you to stay in here. Take a bath. Wash your hair. Watch TV. Whatever you do, don’t leave here until Kate or I come and get you. Do you understand me?”
“Sure. You want time to tell the old lady about me. She—”
“Do not call her that.” Kate’s tone was of repressed anger.
Zelly looked at both of them. “Okay, I get it.” She looked out at the canal with a clump of palm trees to one side. “Are there alligators in there? And what about falling coconuts?”
“Yes,” Kate said. “Lots of danger out there. Stay in here.”
Jack opened the door into the house and let Kate go first. He closed the door behind her.
“No jury will convict Gil,” she mumbled.
“I wish that were true,” he said.
They were standing by the kitchen and neither of them wanted to go any further. The original idea of the boat trip had been to get away from thoughts of the murder.
But Zelly had taken over everything. Their time together had been all about her.
“Ready to see our houseguest?” Jack asked softly.
“I guess so. You wouldn’t start acting like a dad with a shotgun and Sara as your virginal daughter, would you?”
Jack smiled. “You should help Sara write her books. I swear that I’ll behave. I’ll—”
He broke off when the doorbell rang. They heard a door inside the house open and the house was filled with the sound of a man’s weeping. Loud, full of agony—and they’d heard it before.
They looked at each other. “Everett,” they said in unison.
They hurried into the house. Sara and Chet were standing in front of the round, pudgy Everett. He had his hands over his face and tears were squeezing through his fingers.
When Chet turned, he blinked a few times in surprise when he saw Jack and Kate, but Sara didn’t.
“Get him a cold drink,” she said to Jack. “Cold washcloth,” to Kate.
It took a while to get the weeping man to a couch in the living room. Chet sat at the end, and Sara took her place on the couch.
Everett drank deeply of the ice water Jack handed him, then rubbed his face with the cold cloth.
Jack and Kate flanked Sara on the couch.
“I did it,” Everett said. “It was all my fault. I may not seem so but I’m a very religious man. I’m going to hell for this. That poor woman. All because of me.”
Jack started to say something but Sara beat him to it.
“Who? Tell us what happened. Now!”
“Tayla. She—” He sniffed.