22: Vanished

 

 

I woke in a familiar position, confused on how I’d gotten there. The last thing I remembered was sitting at Baxter’s kitchen table with an icepack pressed to my face. Now, my face was in his lap again, my blurry vision not hazy enough to keep me from staring at his beautifully bare chest. Aside from joining me on my runs occasionally, I had no idea when he found time to work out. The evidence that he snuck it in somewhere was written all over his body.

“You look awful,” he grumbled.

I sprang up from his lap and probed the flesh around my nose. Hissing at the pain my touch induced, I turned to glare at Baxter. “I’m supposed to be on live TV tomorrow!”

“I was trying to help,” he argued. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let go of the doorknob.”

“This is your fault.”

He shrugged.

Irritated that he refused to take responsibility for me looking like a mutant on television, I pushed up from the couch. The sight of him sitting there, casual as you please, reminded me that I hadn’t been there last night. “How did I end up on your couch again?”

“I carried you here after you fell asleep with an icepack on your face and nearly fell out of your chair.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “What else was I supposed to do? Take you to bed?”

My first thought was that, yes, I absolutely would have been more comfortable in his bed than scrunched up on his couch. Then rational thought kicked in and I changed my answer. “You could have put me in my own bed.”

Baxter stood, making the motion last at least twice as long as it should have. The subtle movements of his muscles were irritatingly distracting. It took only two steps to put him within inches of me. “If you were in your own apartment, how was I supposed to watch you for signs of a concussion?” His fingers trailed along the side of my face before brushing back a chunk of wild bedhead hair. I shivered under his touch and maybe leaned a tiny bit closer to him.

Distracted as I was by his half naked body, it took way too long for his words to register as making zero sense. “You’re not supposed to let someone at risk of a concussion sleep at all.”

His fingers pushed back into my tangled hair. “Well, you really didn’t hit the door that hard, so I figured you were probably okay.”

“But…” His circular logic was ridiculous, but I realized he was teasing me and didn’t attempt to correct him.

“Puck has a show tonight.”

Baxter seemed unimpressed. “So?”

“I’m going to it.”

“So?” he asked again.

“So, I need to go to work at Mina’s.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Those two things have nothing to do with each other.”

I swallowed hard. “They’re both reasons I shouldn’t be here right now.”

His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling my head back so I was looking up at him. “They’re both excuses.”

Heat pooled in my belly. I needed to get away from him, because this was wrong…and because he was right. “I have to make Megan’s cupcakes.”

I spun away from him and rushed for the door. I remembered my cell phone halfway there and turned back. Baxter formed a blockade, making it impossible to get my phone from the coffee table without getting too close to him again. I debated how much I really needed my phone. Maybe if Gordy had left me out of this case, I could have gotten away without having it for a few hours. Leaving it would only cause more problems.

Instead of approaching him, I held out my hand wordlessly.

Baxter smirked as he retrieved my phone and held it in his hand. “How badly do you want this?”

“Give it to me,” I demanded.

“I want something in return.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Why not?”

“Because…because it’s not,” I said. Brilliant. Mature, for sure. How could he argue with that?

His expression said it wasn’t even worth trying. “Spend Christmas morning with me.”

“What? Why?”

“You already have plans with Puck and Sean for Christmas Eve, right?”

“Yeah,” I said warily.

“I want Christmas morning.”

“Is this a custody negotiation?” I asked. His only response was to tap my phone against his palm. His games were too much for me this morning. “Fine. Whatever. Christmas morning. It’s a date. Can I have my phone now?”

Baxter’s eyes hooded as his mouth twisted into a smirk. “You should choose your words more carefully.”

Having no idea what he was talking about, I snatched my phone out of his grasp when he offered it up and made for the door. I swiped my keys from his table and disappeared into the hall. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with Baxter. Or me.

Regardless, I had cupcakes to make.

Hustling back to my apartment, I raced through a shower to clean off any remaining specks of blood, and threw on the first articles of clothing I managed to snag out of my basket of unfolded laundry. Figuring makeup wasn’t going to fix my bulbous nose, I skipped it entirely and was hurrying out of the building barely fifteen minutes after leaving Baxter’s.

I was so focused on what I needed to do for the baby-faced cupcakes that I’d pushed my appearance out of my mind…until I walked into the kitchen and Mina gasped. “What happened?” she demanded.

“Baxter,” I grumbled with a shake of my head.

If Mina had been startled before, she was shocked right down to her core now. “Baxter hit you?”

My single word answer registered in my brain and I suddenly realized how that had sounded. “No!” I said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. It was a mishap with a door.”

Actual tears flooded her eyes. “I’ve always liked Baxter. That first day, when he kept you company.”

“He didn’t hit me!”

“Who didn’t hit you?”

Turning and tripping at the same time, I grabbed the nearest counter to steady myself as I found myself staring at Gordy. His mouth popped open when he saw me, displaying the blueberry muffin he’d been scarfing. Ick. “What the hell happened to you? Who hit you?”

“Nobody!”

“Then why do you look like…that?”

“Baxter opened the door and I was startled and didn’t let go of the doorknob and I slammed into it when it stopped,” I snapped. “That’s it. No one hit me. Baxter would never hit me. He…” My words cut off with a snap of teeth against teeth.

“He what?” Gordy asked, his sly tone teasing and demanding at the same time.

“Shut up,” I growled.

We entered a stare-down I was sure I could hold until Hell froze over. Or until Mina stepped between us looking worried. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look terrible. I’m always here to listen if there is something wrong. You know that, right?”

My only talent used to be cooking. How had accidentally accusing people of things they hadn’t done gotten onto the list? “I know, Mina, and I appreciate it. I don’t need to talk, though. I’m fine, just accident prone, as usual.”

She bit her bottom lip, still not convinced. Not until Gordy’s hand slipped comfortingly onto her shoulder. She looked back at him, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t imagining the quick flutter of her eyelashes when they locked gazes.

“Baxter didn’t hit her,” Gordy said soothingly. “Trust me.”

She sighed and patted his hand, still on her shoulder. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

I’d just told her the same thing! She took Gordy’s word over mine? “What are you doing here?” I demanded of Gordy. It was five in the morning and Gordy got little enough sleep during an active case that he didn’t have time to waste eating early morning muffins for the fun of it.

“Trying to get a hold of you,” he said. “Baxter texted me last night that you hadn’t seen Evan, but I wanted to follow up.”

Huffing, I said, “Well, do it while I make the She-Devil’s cupcakes.” I didn’t wait for his answer, heading straight for the pantry to gather ingredients.

“Evan’s keycard was last swiped at the storefront door,” Gordy said. “Several people saw him go through the door with a tray of cupcakes, but no one ever saw him come back.”

I dumped flour into the industrial sized mixer and considered what he’d said. “The storefront door was the last time his keycard was swiped? Did he leave through the store entrance, or did he sneak out with someone else?”

Gordy nodded. “Morales is looking into it. He should have something by the time you get to Sweet Life.”

Maybe. Security footage hadn’t helped us figure out how I’d gotten locked in the alley in the first place. I previously thought that Salma had covered every square inch of the buildings with cameras. I’d quickly learned that to be false when attempting to find the asshole who’d tried to feed me to the rats. The hallway next to Salma’s office had no cameras on her private door, and since the door to the alley was cattycorner to her office door, it wasn’t covered either. Similarly, the back of the store bakery which held the alley door was so inconsequential in Salma’s mind, she hadn’t bothered to put a camera on it. Or, she didn’t want it recorded that employees snuck out to a rat-infested alley for their smoke breaks. That was a possibility as well. Regardless, we saw a handful of people walking near both doors, but couldn’t prove any of them were the ones to lock me in the alley.

So, we still had no idea who broke the card reader, who told Pamela about it, or who wanted me out of the way.

Morales would pull aside and question those who had approached the alley doors, but I wasn’t overly hopeful he’d learn anything. Our killer seemed to know how to avoid being seen to a truly disturbing level. Or, maybe not. Had Evan, the only one to consistently use the alley doors, seen the killer? What if he’d gone through his favorite shortcut and never emerged on the other side? The wall-door was locked, but….

I gasped. “Did Salma put a new chain on the alley door?”

Gordy frowned. “Yes, I checked it before I left last night.”

“When, though?” I demanded. “When did she put a new chain on? Right away? A few hours later? At the end of the day?”

Seeing where my logic was going, his expression darkened. “I’m not sure. If it wasn’t immediate and Evan used the alley…”

“What if the killer got him?” My stomach twisted and I desperately pushed away memories of finding Alice’s body. I didn’t want to discover anyone else like that. He was so young, and his death would be my fault. If I hadn’t gotten locked in the alley and called Puck to save me, the chain would’ve still been in place. Thoughts spiraled darkly, whispering all the choices I could have made that wouldn’t have led to Evan disappearing. I reached for the counter and sucked in a deep breath.

Gordy gripped my shoulder a moment later. “We don’t know what happened. Maybe he just got scared and quit like the others. Maybe he had an emergency and left without telling anyone.”

“What if he’s already dead?” I begged.

Pushing me up gently, his expression was firm but kind as he said, “If he is, it wouldn’t be your fault. The killer can get in and out of that building regardless of chains or alleys.”

“But…”

Gordy cut off my arguments. “Stop it. You’ll make yourself crazy second-guessing and letting your mind run wild with possibilities. Focus on what we know for sure. Evan left work early yesterday without telling anyone. That’s it. We can’t know more until we question people and look at the security footage, okay?”

I felt like I was going to throw up. Knowing that would ruin everything in the process of being made in the kitchen and that Mina would flip out thinking I was sick or dying of complications of my smashed nose, I kept my nausea in check just barely. I knew Gordy was right, logically, but intuition said something was wrong and it had a lot to do with that alley.

Needing to focus on something else before I lost the battle with my queasy stomach, Salma’s excuse for the alley wall-door scrambled to the front of my mind. Getting whacked with the door smacked pretty much every other thought out of my mind the night before. I groaned. “I forgot to ask Baxter if he knew anyone familiar with real estate law.” Leaning back against the counter, I shook my head. “I forgot to ask him what his favorite kind of cupcake is, too.”

That second one wasn’t nearly as important as the first, but I was plenty annoyed with myself over both.

Gordy seemed confused by my second forgotten question, but said, “I already asked him about the real estate laws. He thought a woman he works with might have done real estate law before coming to his office. He’ll let me know later today.” Convinced I wasn’t going to faint or vomit, Gordy relaxed against the counter next to me. “Why do you need to know his favorite cupcake?”

“I’m just trying to get ideas for the show tomorrow.”

“Mine’s red velvet with cream cheese frosting, if that helps.”

I smiled, even though it really didn’t. “Thanks.” It was too simple of a recipe to use for the show, and I didn’t have time to spruce it up into something more unique.

“Well, I better let you get to the demon-baby cupcakes.” He shook his head. “I can’t wait until she’s out of his life.”

“You and me both,” I said.

Before Gordy could take off, Mina came back into the kitchen area with an armload of boxes and her usual smile. “I’ll just set these here for you. I know you have a busy day, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted to leave the cupcakes here and pick them up later or take them with you and just store them at Sweet Life. Of course, the store will be closed before they need to be delivered, but you have a key, so you’re welcome to do whatever works best.” She set the boxes down and looked at me expectantly.

I stared back at her in utter confusion. “What?”

“The baby shower cupcakes,” she said with a chuckle. “They need to be delivered by seven, remember? Megan said since you were going to the shower that you’d just bring them with you. You did arrange for someone to drive you, right? I know you only have your motorcycle, and I don’t think you’ll be able to get all four dozen cupcakes on the back of your bike.”

I was pretty sure Gordy could feel the heat of my hatred rolling off of me. He shot me a worried glance before turning back to Mina. “I’m going to help her deliver the cupcakes. Don’t worry about it.”

Mina grinned. “Aren’t you the sweetest? That sounds just perfect.” She dragged her adoring gaze away from him and over to me. “I need to finish stocking a few things, but I’ll be out to help you in just a few minutes.” Then she disappeared, completely oblivious to my impending nuclear meltdown.

Wisely, Gordy gave me a few seconds to get a handle on my rage before attempting to speak to me. “Why didn’t you just tell her who Megan was and why she ordered the cupcakes from the beginning?” He shook his head. “You know she adores Baxter and would never have taken the order if she knew Megan was just trying to hurt the two of you.”

“I don’t want to ruin the illusion,” I mumbled.

“The illusion of what?” he asked, bewildered.

“Of me being this capable, put-together employee who can handle stuff and doesn’t constantly drag people into catastrophes every time I turn around.” I shrugged, wanting to cry. “I don’t want her to know that hiring me could be the downfall of her dream.”

Gordy pinned me with a stern glare. “That seems a bit overdramatic. Saul knows everything now, and he hasn’t fired you.”

“Megan promised to destroy me and Mina’s bakery if I didn’t come through on the cupcakes and bend to her every whim.”

Flinching, Gordy revised his earlier statement. “Oh.” He knew, probably even better than I, what Megan was capable of doing.

“Will you really help me deliver the cupcakes?” I asked.

“I’ll drive you,” he said, “but I won’t go up to her door. That’ll only make things worse.”

Figuring his response had something to do with him getting Megan banned from the precinct, I didn’t delve any further. “Do you actually know where she lives? Because I don’t.”

I sighed, realizing now that she’d left that portion of the order form blank for a reason. I hadn’t thought much of the limited information earlier. First name, number of cupcakes, day she wanted them. She’d told Mina she’d discuss the details with me in person. Now that I knew she’d planned on dragging me to her shower like a trained monkey, I could guess her motivation.

“She expected me to beg Baxter for a ride, didn’t she?”

Gordy’s jaw was a vice, but he somehow managed to squeeze a few words out. “No doubt.”

I sighed. “What a bitch.”

“That’s too nice of a description for her.”

Agreeing, I couldn’t exactly do much about it at that point. My already insane day had just gotten worse. Not only did I have to deliver smiling little cupcakes to the dark queen’s lair, I had to beg Saul to cover for me tonight when I knew he liked having as much time off around the holidays as possible. Any hope I had for making it through this day unscathed vanished as surely as Evan had.