21: Because Everyone Else is Dead

 

I waved goodbye to Gwen and followed Baxter out to his car. As soon as we were both seated, he asked, “Did you tell your friend to ask me out?”

I laughed. “What?” He eyed me skeptically. “Did she really ask you out?” I had wondered why he’d been watching Gwen like she might bite him.

“Did you tell her to?”

“Yeah, but I was joking.”

He started the car and began backing out. “Joking about her asking me out?” He shook his head.

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” I said, enjoying his discomfort more than I should. “The first time you picked me up from work, she mentioned how attractive you were and asked why I was going out with Sean when I had you willing to pick me up. I said if she thought you were such a catch, she should have at it and ask you out, since I wasn’t interested. I didn’t think she’d actually do it.”

“And why did you tell her you weren’t interested?” Baxter asked, one eyebrow raised.

Laughing again, I pressed a finger to my lips. “I believe my exact words were, ‘Baxter is the worst.’” I grinned at him. “I didn’t like you very much back then, but I’m pretty sure the feeling was mutual.”

“And what,” he scoffed, “you like me now?”

“Most of the time,” I said, relishing this lighthearted moment. It felt like forever since I’d smiled or laughed.

Baxter shook his head. “Well, that feeling’s mutual, too.”

I pressed my hand to my chest and stared at him openmouthed and wide-eyed. “Did you just say you liked me, sometimes? I’m shocked. Truly shocked.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“So what did you say?” I asked. “Are you going to go out with Gwen?”

He scowled at me. “No.”

“Why not? She’s really nice.”

“Between work and keeping you alive, my plate is full.” The smirk in his voice mellowed the bite that had been there when he’d mentioned having to save me a few days ago. Maybe I was growing on him.

Chuckling at his response, I let myself sink back into the seat. I closed my eyes and listened to the music playing. Baxter always played the same type of music. Classical. At first, I thought that odd, given his volatile temperament, but I figured it must help him relax, and I wasn’t about to knock it. Personally, I loved it. I had absolutely no musical talent whatsoever, but Bernadette did, of course. She’d played the piano since she was seven, and took up the viola in middle school. I grew up to sounds of Chopin and Haydn. The music soothed me as we drove.

Yes, I was putting off the conversation I knew we needed to have about what Baxter’s cop friend had found, but I didn’t want to have it just yet. I wanted to pretend for a few more minutes that I was a normal girl getting a ride home from a friend, and that when we reached our destination it would be a casual goodnight, one of many to come. I didn’t want to think that the next day was Friday.

The guy who grabbed me from the club hadn’t been super specific about whether his deadline was up the day the new tenants moved into Ms. Sinclair’s old apartment, or when her stuff was carted off. The charities collecting the old furniture that hadn’t been ruined were coming the next day, but the new family wasn’t supposed to arrive until late Saturday night to get the keys and wouldn’t actually move in until Sunday morning. I tried not to think about it as Baxter parked and we got out.

Not thinking about it got a lot harder when Baxter unlocked the main door and we stepped into the lobby to see all of Ms. Sinclair’s old belongings piled up according to which charity was hauling it away. I turned away quickly and headed for the stairs with Baxter close behind. I had my keys out by the time we reached the landing, and they jingled with every step I took. I was shaking so badly by the time I reached my door, Baxter had to take the keys from my hand.

As soon as he pushed the door open, I slipped past him and curled up on the couch. He’d been in my apartment enough that week that he didn’t ask my permission before coming in and locking the deadbolt behind him. We’d come to some sort of unspoken truce until this was all over. Maybe we would have a chance at actually being friends if I survived the next few days, but not dying was looking more and more unlikely as time went by.

If Baxter had gotten good news from his friend, he wouldn’t have waited until he was sitting next to me on the couch to lay it all out. The information we’d gotten from Maggie had made Gordy’s job much easier in locating Donny’s case, but that didn’t mean the information we needed was there to be found.

“Go ahead and tell me,” I said.

Baxter hesitated, then leaned back into the couch. “The only thing he could tell me about the diamond was that it was reported as stolen by the Marquis family, that it was an eight carat round diamond that, while not an heirloom per se, would be worth about ten million dollars in today’s money. It was never found and the Marquis family eventually got reimbursed by their insurance, but still sued the Marsh family and bankrupted them.”

“Wow,” I said, amazed what some people were willing to pay for a sparkly rock, and how easily they could ruin a family over a material possession that made very little difference to them in the overall scheme of things.

“They never did have any suspects in Donny’s murder, either,” Baxter said. “Even with witnesses, it was dark, everyone had on big coats, and the car took off before anyone could get down to street level. He couldn’t confirm our theory, but he agreed we’d probably stumbled onto the truth of what happened. He tried asking around about a diamond that size being fenced or cut down, but he didn’t find anything.”

Baxter moved forward on the couch and rested his head against the top of the cushion. “He’s still looking into the other names from the obituaries to make sure nothing comes up as suspicious, but he might not be able to get through them in time.”

I had already figured that would be the case. Looking into deaths halfway across the country or even in neighboring states wasn’t as simple as just pulling them up online. Baxter had explained that every precinct had different internal systems, so requests had to be made and processed. It could take months just to get the files on each person.

“Did he have anything to say about Williams?” I asked.

Baxter sat back up, fire in his eyes. “Oh, he had plenty of things to say about Officer Blake Williams.” He shook his head, but it didn’t dislodge his anger. “They aren’t even in the same precinct and he knows what kind of cop Williams is. Apparently, there’s good reason he’s still a beat cop even though he’s been in law enforcement almost fifteen years. His disciplinary record reads like a rap sheet.”

“And he’s still on the police force?” I asked.

Shaking his head, he fell back against the couch. “He’s only been in Manhattan for two years and barely made it past his first year probation. Gordy wasn’t sure where all he’d been besides New York, but it sounded like he’d bounced around quite a bit. As far as Gordy could tell, there wasn’t any reason he’d be connected to Donny’s murder, but he hadn’t had much time to look into it. He said he’d ask around and get back to me after I told him about Williams grabbing you and showing up outside your class. From what he said, Williams’ involvement in the case should have ended the moment the detectives showed up and took over. His showing up as much as he has seems to be from a more personal interest.”

“So,” I asked, “he might not be involved in this like I thought? Maybe he just saw an opportunity to cash in on whatever he assumes Ms. Sinclair was hiding and thinks he’ll be able to grab the loot and take off with it.”

“Maybe,” Baxter said slowly, “but I still think he’s too invested in this case for it to be opportunity alone.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but I suspected Baxter was right. Williams being an opportunist would be about the best thing I could hope for at this point. Not that it would really matter, I supposed. I still had the killer to worry about.

“Will you tell Gordy thanks for me?” I asked Baxter.

He nodded slowly. We both knew my request wasn’t just because I didn’t know his friend and probably wouldn’t run into him any time soon.

“Do you think…if I don’t find the diamond in time,” I asked, “would Gordy talk to the detectives in charge of Ms. Sinclair’s case and find out who…did it?”

Baxter’s arm slipped around my shoulders, surprising me so much I didn’t resist when he pulled me closer. “We’re going to find it, so don’t talk like that.”

“But, what if…?”

“Gordy already sent a heads up to Detectives Hollister and Springer about everything you’ve found and about Williams,” Baxter said. “They’re going to find the killer, Eliza.”

“In time?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me in a little closer like Bernadette used to do when we were little…and after Ben died. It had been a long time since someone put their arm around my shoulder like that. Maybe Bernadette had left me here, but she hadn’t left me alone. Baxter and I would have many more fights. I was sure of that. His temper, my knack for trouble, and our vastly differing views on my dating habits, would never let us escape that. In between, we could have moments like these, and right now that was enough.

“If you had a ten million dollar diamond, where would you keep it?” I asked Baxter, yawning after the last word.

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’d sell it. Keeping it would be stupid.”

“But they couldn’t sell it without being caught. I don’t think they could even have had it cut down without someone taking notice, and it would seriously devalue it if they did.”

“Then why take it?”

I yawned again. “I don’t know. Maybe one of them took it without considering the consequences. The witnesses said they were drunk. It was a big shiny ring.” I shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t squashed against Baxter. “Maybe Ms. Sinclair thought she could use her job to sell it or change it somehow. I doubt they were thinking very hard after shooting and running a guy down in the middle of the night.”

Baxter shook his head. “I don’t know, Eliza. A normal person would have put it in a safety deposit box or found some way to get rid of it. That psychotic old woman was miles away from normal. There’s no telling what she did with it. I mean, she trained her monstrous cat to watch her apartment and attack people who got too close, and went up to the roof in the middle of the night with a pair of binoculars.”

“How do you know she went up on the roof at night?” I asked.

“I used to go up there to get away. One night I found her up there spying on the neighboring buildings. She screamed at me for interrupting her and I haven’t been up there since.” Baxter rubbed his hand across his eyes as he yawned. “There’s no telling what she did with the diamond. We don’t even know for sure she was the one who had it.”

My eyes were half closed, and I struggled to stay focused. “She had it. That I’m sure of.”

“Why?” Baxter asked.

“Because everyone else is dead.”

The room got quiet and my eyes closed a little more. “Will you stay?” I asked Baxter over another yawn.

Instead of answering, his arm tightened and my head fell against his chest. Bernadette’s couch really was uncomfortable, but I didn’t complain. It might have been a few minutes or a long time later when I felt Baxter shift. Suddenly, I was in his arms, lights turning off as he carried me to my bedroom. I was on my way to a deep sleep when he laid me down and pulled the blanket over my body, but I smiled when I felt his weight settle in beside me.