Fear Thy Neighbor (42)
“You mean now?” he asked.
“No time like the present,” she quipped.
He took off his sunglasses and wiped a hand across his forehead. His eyes were green. Jade mixed with emerald green, to be exact.
“It’s hot out here. How about we meet some place where we can talk? Somewhere a little cooler?”
Ali looked to Valentina, who said, “Sure. I’m okay meeting him somewhere.”
She trusted Valentina, in spite of how she’d found her in the parking lot with this man, Kit.
“Name the place,” Ali said.
“Mel’s?” he asked.
Familiar with the place, she agreed.
“Thank you,” he said, then returned to his car.
Ali shifted into drive, heading toward the diner. “You sure about this?” she asked her new friend. “Does he seem like a weirdo?” She waited for Valentina to reply. Ali was hoping Valentina’s psychic instincts would kick in. Maybe they already had.
“I think he’s exactly who he says. I must admit, I’m more than curious about this story he’s working on. I’ve lived on the island for a long time. I can’t imagine what a reporter from Miami would be working on. Nothing exciting ever happens here, minus the bone thing. We’ve had the weekly paper for as long as I can remember, though I’ve never seen anything the least bit interesting that would draw a big shot reporter to Palmetto Island.”
“What makes you think he’s a big shot? Could be this is his first big story,” Ali said.
“You didn’t read what it said on his card?” Valentina asked.
Alison handed the card to her. “What does it say? I’m driving.”
“Atticus Moore, Miami Journal, Pulitzer Prize–winning reporter, blah, blah, blah.”
Ali focused her attention on her driving. When she spied the sign for the diner, she pulled into a parking spot next to the gray sedan. Apparently, Kit was already inside waiting for them.
“That’s impressive,” she finally said. “Odd name. No wonder he goes by Kit. Maybe his parents were fans of Harper Lee.” Ali got out of the Jeep, locking the doors before they went inside.
It felt like she was stepping inside a freezer, but she wasn’t going to complain, as the cool air was refreshing. Ali knew the hottest months were still ahead of them.
“There he is,” Valentina said. “Do you want me to sit somewhere else?”
“Absolutely not! I want you with me, just in case he turns out to be a true stalker.”
Valentina laughed. “Okay, though I doubt he’s anything but what he says.”
“You know what I mean,” Ali added with a grin.
When they arrived at the table, he stood until they sat down. “I took the liberty of ordering iced tea—hope that’s good for you two.”
“Fine,” Ali said. “I’m not here to debate what I drink. I want to know why you’ve been following me.”
Kit grinned. “I like that. No need for niceties.”
The same waitress Ali had before appeared with a tray of tall glasses of iced tea. “When y’all are ready to order, just give me a wave,” she said before she left.
“I appreciate you taking a few minutes out of your day. Sorry if I frightened you. I wasn’t sure who you were, though I know you,” Kit said to Valentina. “I recognize your family name. I know you’re a full-time resident, but just so we’re clear, I want you both to know if you don’t want to answer my questions, you don’t have to.”
“Just ask,” Ali said.
“Are you familiar with Koreshan State Park? It’s in Estero.”
Valentina answered first. “Of course. Anyone living in Southwest Florida should be.” Her voice raised a notch. “Who isn’t?”
“Count me out,” Ali said. “Palmetto Island is as far south as I’ve been. What’s so special about the place?” she asked, then took a drink of tea.
“Depends on who you ask these days,” Kit replied. “The park has a history of being dedicated to a cult around the turn of the century, when the leader believed the earth was hollow.”
Ali laughed. “Okay, so what does this have to do with me?” She wasn’t into cults or crazy beliefs; didn’t even care whether the earth was round or flat. It had never been something she gave serious thought to, excluding elementary school, when they were learning about Christopher Columbus and his journey to America.
“I recall my parents taking me canoeing in the park when I was a kid, but I don’t know anything about a cult. There were lots of gators; that I remember well,” Valentina said to Kit.
“What does this have to do with me?” Ali said again. “I’m not involved in anything remotely cultlike.” She had no clue why this reporter had homed in on her. “Are you sure I’m the person you want to speak to?”
“I believe so. Look . . .” He traced the condensation on his glass. “I’m not in any way trying to suggest you are involved with this case. However, I’ve seen you talking to a couple locals I’m investigating.”
Alison glanced over at Valentina. She appeared as clueless as she was.
“Who?” Ali asked. “I’ve only been on the island a few days. Valentina and her daughter are the only two people I know, and I just met them.” Surely he wasn’t implying they were involved with something.