Key Lime Pie

by Josi S. Kilpack

For all her determination to do the right thing, the idea of confessing her part in Joe’s situation made her insides shrivel. And Monty—what would she do about him? He was the one with the billy club, but the last thing she wanted to do was get him in trouble. However, lying in her statement wasn’t an option either.

  “I’ll wai’ fo’ you ’ere,” he said a few seconds later as he pulled into a parking lot near an ATM.

  “Thanks,” Sadie said, letting herself out of the car. She hurried inside, put her card in the machine and entered her PIN. It took less than a minute to complete the transaction. She used that minute to plan what she needed to do. She had to let Monty go, even if he was her one security right now.

  When she returned to the cab, she went to the driver’s window instead of the passenger side. Monty rolled down the window. She handed him two hundred dollars in cash. “This should make up for all the trouble I’ve been,” she said.

  He looked at the money he’d taken from her, then looked at her with a question in his eyes.

  “If you get pulled over and I’m not in the car,” Sadie explained, “you might have a better chance of getting out from under this mess.” She thought of something else and pulled her mini-notebook out of her purse, removed the specially sized pen from the spiral binding at the top, and proceeded to write down her number. “If you do get in trouble for all this, call me, okay? If I can help you, I will.”

  Monty shook his head and put his hand out the window and over her hand, stilling it in the process of writing down her contact information. “I not be leavin’ you ’ere, lady.”

  “I feel horrible enough already,” Sadie said. He wasn’t looking at the whole picture. “You could lose your license for this; I can’t live with that responsibility and you’ve already done so much. It’s better that I let you get back to work.”

  Monty was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “To ’ire my cab for de’ day is four hun’red dollas.” He nodded toward the ATM. “You get dat much fo’ me, and I be your cab driver, no one else. I’m a good storytella, and I not be getting in any trouble fo’ dis, I promise.” He paused. “Dis city be full a’ people you can’t trus’. I can’t be leav’n you to dat.”

  Sadie was torn. He seemed to mean what he’d said, and she’d given him every chance to move on. She also had lots of reasons to believe that finding anyone else she could trust in this town would be just as hard as he’d said. From what she’d heard so far—and based on all the episodes of CSI Miami she’d watched over the years—it seemed as though everyone here were a criminal of one kind or another. Monty was willing to help her, and he had already proved himself reliable. Would it be foolish for her to turn her back on that?

  She lifted her eyes and scanned the buildings around them, focusing on three teenage boys at the bus stop across the street. Had they seen her withdraw cash out of the ATM? She’d told Monty she was worried that if the cops pulled him over with her in the car it would be bad for him. But she had a connection with Mathews, and she would be able to verify what she’d been doing, and in the process, she might be able to lobby for fair treatment of Monty. The deciding factor was that Monty was already in trouble for helping her, and while he might get in more trouble for staying with her, he certainly wasn’t going to be in any less trouble for what he’d already done.

  She looked back at his dark eyes that were watching her carefully. He seemed to genuinely want to help her. “Are you sure?” she asked, giving him one more chance.

  Monty broke into a grin. “I’m sho’.”

  Sadie couldn’t help but smile at the relief she felt. She wouldn’t be alone. That was powerful. “Okay. Let me get the rest of the money.”

  Monty nodded and sat back in his seat, satisfied with their arrangement. It only took another minute to enter her PIN, but she’d hit her daily ATM limit and hoped she wouldn’t need to make any other withdrawals. She sat in the front seat again and handed him the rest of the money. He folded the bills over and put them in the back pocket of his worn-out jeans.

  “Can you take me to Homestead?” Sadie asked.

  “What be in ’omestead?”

  “Something I wish I didn’t have to do,” Sadie said with a sigh.

  “Sho’, I can take you to Homestead.”

  They were ten minutes into the drive when a chime from Sadie’s phone informed her that she had a text message. It was from Gayle, which was a surprise; Gayle hated texting.

  You haven’t called me back. Are you okay?

  Sadie smiled at how formal Gayle was with her texts; she hardly ever used abbreviations like everyone else. Sadie texted back, not wanting to have a conversation with Monty right here.

  I’m fine. I’ll call you when I can.

  It took a full minute for Gayle to respond.

  Pete and I are going to the Renaissance dinner. Are you sure you’re okay with this?

  Sadie closed her eyes as her chest started to ache. How could she have given her blessing? She again pictured her analogy of the love triangle she’d first thought of when she’d sat down in front of that lousy key lime pie. Pete had stepped out of the picture, and Sadie had come to realize her interest in Eric wasn’t what she’d thought it might be. What did that leave? Feelings on Eric’s part, perhaps? She opened her eyes and let out a breath before turning her attention back to the phone. She couldn’t bring herself to lie, but she had to say something.

  Have a great time J

  The smiley face might have been too much, but Sadie realized she was trying to convince herself as much as Gayle that she was fine with Pete and Gayle dating. But telling herself it didn’t bother her didn’t make her chest ache any less. Pete had made plans with Gayle so quickly that Sadie should feel reassured that whatever feelings existed between them hadn’t been deep enough for a real relationship. She should feel reassured, but she didn’t.

  She looked out the windshield and hoped she could hide her feelings when she returned to Garrison where she would see them both—together probably. How on earth would she pull that off?

  “So, Monty,” Sadie said, desperate for a distraction. “Tell me about yourself? Do you have a family?”

  Monty smiled. “Sho’ do,” he said and proceeded to fill the last twenty minutes of the forty-minute drive. Monty showed Sadie a picture of his two-year-old son, and she oohed and aahed over the chocolate-skinned toddler with shiny cheeks and puppy-dog eyes. Sadie told him about her kids as well. When they got off the interstate, Sadie gave him Layla’s address and tried to ignore the sorrow of their upcoming parting.

  “Thank you, again,” Sadie said as some of the familiar streets and businesses came into view. “For everything. You’ve made all the difference today.”

  “You done pay for de whole day, lady.”

  “I know,” Sadie said. “And it’s far less than you deserve, but I can make my own way now. I really do appreciate all you’ve done,” she said sincerely, smiling at him. “You’re a good man.”

  “No probl’m,” he said, making Sadie think of Bob Marley. “I prob’ly stay in ’omestead and pick up work fo’ de next few hours. If you need me, you give me a call, okay? You got my card?”

  “Oh, sure,” Sadie said. “But don’t be staying in Homestead on account of me.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m licensed with the county, an’ it be good to get out of de city now an’ again. I’ll jus’ let dispatch know where I be.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said. “It’s the second street up there, on the left.” She pointed to emphasize her directions.

  Monty nodded and a few seconds later turned onto 4th Avenue.

  Sadie immediately sought out Layla’s house and noticed an unfamiliar car parked out front, behind Sadie’s rental. She told herself she didn’t care and it didn’t matter, but she was taking in details as fast as she could while Monty pulled into the driveway. The car was a newer model Acura, silver, with upgraded wheels and tinted windows. Not flashy, but definitely a nice ride. It w
as very much out of place in this neighborhood. Heck, Sadie’s rented Kia was out of place in this neighborhood.

  “You sho’?” Monty asked as she put her hand on the door handle.

  “I’m sure. Thank you so much.”

  He nodded, and Sadie stepped out of the car, moving away so he had room to pull out. After waving to him one last time, she opened her purse to get her keys and saw the GPS unit she’d taken from Joe’s car. She’d forgotten all about it.

  Maybe I should . . .

  No, her stronger, wiser self said. You are not going to follow the coordinates. No way, no sir, no how. Sadie let out a breath. Of course she wasn’t going to. She was going to give the GPS unit to Mathews. Ugh. She was not looking forward to that meeting. Maybe now that he knew about Megan, he wouldn’t be so mad at her when she told him she was the one who’d found her.

  It took a few seconds to find her keys, and she was turning toward her car when she caught movement from across the street. Already suspicious of the Acura, her sleuthing reflexes took over, and she hurried to hide behind the garbage can placed at the edge of the carport. Then she crouched down, counting on the shadows to conceal her. Her Spidey-senses tingled. Something was afoot, and she was once again right on the edge of the action.

  After taking a breath to fortify herself, she peeked around the garbage can, paying strict attention to every detail only to realize what she’d seen was the neighbor across the street settling himself back onto the blue couch, opening another soda—Dr. Pepper she thought. Has he been there all day? Sadie wondered as she stood up and smoothed her shirt, looking around to make sure no one had seen her little overreaction. That would be embarrassing.

  Luckily, no one was around but the neighbor, and he wasn’t looking her way. Her dignity would stay intact. She resumed her walk to the rental car, glancing at the neighbor and wondering how he could simply sit there all day. Sadie had a hard time sitting still long enough to watch The Office once a week. She and Pete used to watch it together, and the only reason she stayed on the couch and wasn’t up doing something in the kitchen while she watched was so she could be close to him. Sadie wondered if Pete would catch next week’s episode with Gayle. She really needed to call him back; she just worried about what she’d say.

  Using the button on the key fob, she unlocked the car door and put her purse on the passenger seat. She was halfway in the car when she looked at the neighbor one last time and found herself frozen in place by one simple thought.

  Had he been there all day?

  Chapter 32

  Hi, I’m Sadie, a friend of Layla’s,” Sadie said less than a minute later as she came to a stop at the base of his wooden porch; it was badly in need of a new coat of paint. She’d left her purse in the car so she tucked her keys into the front pocket of her capris. It made an unsightly bulge, but she didn’t think he would notice.

  The dark, round face of Layla’s neighbor looked at her. He’d watched her walk all the way across the street and up the gravel sidewalk with heavy eyes. He looked to be in his thirties, but it was hard for Sadie to tell for sure. He was wearing gray cutoff sweats and a blue T-shirt that stretched across his ample stomach, not quite concealing all of it. He didn’t say anything, but Sadie didn’t let that deter her. As she’d crossed the street she’d promised herself this was the last thing she was going to do before she went to Mathews, but it would be irresponsible to miss this opportunity. Five minutes, then she was done.

  “And you are?” she asked, dipping her head.

  He continued watching her, then took a swig from his drink. “Max,” he said, resting the soda can on his thigh.

  “Well, I’m glad to meet you, Max,” Sadie said, folding her arms but keeping her shoulders slack so that she wouldn’t give off the wrong vibe. Without her purse to hold, she didn’t know what to do with her hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem to spend a lot of time out here. Not that I can blame you—the weather is incredible. I’m from Colorado, you see, and while spring is pushing through, it’s never anything like this.” She took a moment to look around, validating her appreciation of the weather. She kept her thoughts about the humidity to herself.

  He didn’t respond, which, after a few seconds, made Sadie realize she hadn’t asked a question. She was feeling awkward, which made her instinctively try to fill all the spaces with words. But it was rarely effective, so she held back.

  “I’m sure the police have already talked to you,” she said, “but I was wondering if you saw anyone here earlier today, after I left with Layla?”

  “Lots of people been here today,” he said simply.

  “Yes,” Sadie agreed. “I suppose that’s true, but between us leaving in that little red car”—she pointed to her rental car—“and us coming back in the same car, did anyone else come to the house?” And kick in the front door, she almost added since that was the real question she was asking.

  Max looked away from her and took another swig of his Dr. Pepper. He knew something, she could feel it.

  “Did the police ask you about this already?” Sadie asked, wondering if they would have specifically told him not to talk to anyone else about it.

  “Yep,” he said, returning his drink to rest on his thigh once more and still not meeting her eyes.

  “Did you see anyone?”

  He turned the can in a circle on his leg, still avoiding her eyes. That was suspicious, right? But he obviously wasn’t about to answer her. At least not easily. He was in need of some motivation, and Sadie had just the thing.

  “Max,” Sadie asked, looking at the soda and remembering he’d been drinking one earlier in the day as well. “Have you eaten anything today?”

  He made eye contact this time, and the momentary excitement in his eyes said everything. His size attested to the fact that he was more than meeting his recommended caloric intake, but was he really being nourished?

  “Can I make you something to eat?” Sadie offered, smiling at him. “I can work with whatever you have inside or grab something from Layla’s house, but you look like a man in need of a good homemade meal.”

  Chapter 33

  Sadie had braced herself for a kitchen that reflected Max’s personal hygiene and ambitious nature and was therefore stunned to find the inside of the house almost pristine. Even cleaner than Layla’s house—and Layla’s house was clean. The countertops were a cream-colored Formica, and although they were old and showed a few burn spots and knife marks, they were spotless and in good repair. The stainless steel sink was empty and practically sparkled it was so clean. The white painted cupboards gleamed in the sun coming through the windows that were topped with a bright floral valance.

  “Are you married, Max?” Sadie asked as she came to a stop at the point where the light-green linoleum met up with the gray carpet of the living room. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes by using another woman’s kitchen; us women can be a little territorial.”

  “I’m not married,” Max said from behind her. Right behind her.

  She felt herself tense at him being so close. Was it really such a good idea to be inside a house with a man twice her size when no one else knew she was here?

  Another thought it would have been good to explore before she’d acted on an impulse. Max moved away from her and pulled out a kitchen chair. Again, not new by any stretch, but clean and in good condition. The table, Formica top with chrome legs, was not much different than the table Sadie’s parents had had in their house for many years. Max dropped himself into the chair and looked at her expectantly. Oh, right, lunch . . . or dinner . . . maybe linner.

  Sadie entered the kitchen, pleased that she wasn’t working amid squalor, and pulled open the door to the refrigerator. The bottom rack was filled with beer and more Dr. Pepper. The next rack up held butter, jam, and some yogurt containers. The top shelf was full of chocolate milk, SunnyD, and regular milk. The door was, of course, filled with condiments.

  “How about a sandwich,” Sadie said, pulli
ng open the deli drawer and smiling to find bologna and that fake cheese stuff. Very unhealthy, but even Sadie could admit it tasted pretty good.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Sadie grabbed mayo and mustard from the door before turning away from the fridge and kicking the door closed with her foot. “You should think about adding a few more vegetables to your next grocery list,” she said, keeping her tone light in hopes he wouldn’t be offended. “All I saw was cabbage and apples.”

  “I don’t do the shopping,” he said, watching her. He held his Dr. Pepper and took another sip.

  “Well, who does?”

  “Tia.”

  Sadie paused. “Tia?” she asked. The woman who made the delicious lunch at Layla’s? “Does she help take care of Layla?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sadie took another glance around the kitchen and wondered how she could have not noticed the woman’s touch that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. “She lives here?”

  Max nodded. “She’s my sister.”

  Oh, Sadie thought to herself. Things were making a bit more sense, which meant even more questions popped into Sadie’s head. “Will she mind that I’m in her kitchen?”

  In answer, Max just shrugged.

  Sadie looked at the collected ingredients on the counter and didn’t think it was fair to go back on her offer to make Max a meal just because he lived here with his sister.

  Onward and upward. It was the best she could do.

  She found some bread on the opposite counter and then turned back to the task at hand as she undid the twist-tie.

  “So, Max,” she said, hoping to ease into things by building a trusting relationship with this man who didn’t seem inclined to be very helpful. Sadie wondered if he might be a little slow too, and lacking in social skills, but she had no way of knowing that for sure. “Did you grow up here in Homestead?”

  “No.”

  “So, when did you move to Homestead, then?” she asked, laying two slices of bread on the counter and picking up a piece of the fake cheese.