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.
22: A New List
I couldn’t focus on my classes. More than once, I had to ask Sean to repeat what Chef Harper had said and copy the notes he’d taken on the recipe steps. Baxter had told me to call in sick, get Saul to cover for me at the diner that night, too. He’d been plenty annoyed when I refused. He didn’t like my argument that I would go crazy hiding out in my apartment all day. Sonya had work to do and couldn’t babysit me, and Baxter was supposed to be in court all day.
I knew he was right that I was opening myself up to the killer grabbing me on my way to and from school, or between classes, but the apartment building wasn’t exactly a fortress, either
. Look at what had already happened there. I needed to stay busy, distract myself, and not screw up my chances of graduating culinary school just in case I didn’t die before Monday. Baxter had left me at the subway entrance shaking his head and grumbling about stupid decisions and risky behavior.
“You’re using the wrong knife,” Sean whispered from the station next to me. I looked down at my hands and stared at the paring knife, trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing. Sean gestured at the array of knives I had laid out. “Boning knife for removing gristle, remember?”
I knew that. I knew that way before starting this class. My mind was not on knife skills this morning. I quickly switched knives and forced myself to focus on trimming all traces of fat, gristle, and sinew from the steak I’d been given. When Chef Harper walked by my station and saw the paring knife lying out of place with remnants of fat on the blade, he frowned. I looked back down at my steak and kept working.
Lunch was a reprieve. I practically ran out of the classroom, just to escape my instructor’s critical eye and take a deep breath. Sean was slower to follow and I told him I’d meet him in the café. I needed a few minutes to talk to Baxter, anyway. I waited through five rings, hoping he wasn’t stuck in court still.
“Eliza,” he grumbled when he finally picked up.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He huffed. “Long morning.”
“Tell me about it.” I sighed, sympathizing, even if his day was going lousy for completely different reasons. I slipped into a seat at my usual table and dropped my backpack next to my chair.
Baxter let out a long breath. “Any sign of…anything?”
“No.” I let my head fall into my upturned hand. “Have you heard from Gordy?”
“Hold on,” Baxter said. “He sent me an email while I was in court, but I just got out and haven’t had a chance to read it yet. Let me bring it up.”
I waited, and waited. I couldn’t imagine why bringing up an email on his phone was taking so long, but I reminded myself not to bite the hand that was helping me. He probably had his hands full with all the papers and documents he’d carried out of the building that morning. Sean was walking into the café before Baxter came back on the line.
“Looks like he wasn’t able to find anything useful about the diamond or Donny, but he did get a look at Williams’ service record. I don’t know if it helps, but I have a list of dates and places he’s worked since joining the State Police in Texas. I’ll forward you the email.”
I wasn’t sure it would be helpful either, not to me anyway, but I appreciated the information. “Thanks, Baxter.” Maybe it would help Hollister and Springer figure out if Officer Williams had been up to any other shady deeds previous to Ms. Sinclair’s murder. Getting him in trouble for harassing people would be a nice bonus.
“Also,” Baxter said, “Detective Hollister has someone watching the building and the culinary school. They’re keeping an eye out for Williams, since it’s his day off today, and anyone else who looks threatening. Gordy said they agreed to have someone tail you all weekend. They’re taking this seriously, Eliza.”
I sighed, and tried not to sound too ungrateful. “Well, it’s about time, I guess.” Didn’t exactly nail that. Oh well. “Thanks for all your help, Baxter. I do feel a little better knowing the police are watching out for me today.”
“So do I.” He was quiet for a few seconds, then asked, “Have you talked to Bernadette?”
My breathing hitched as soon as he said her name. “No. She’s still out of cell range. Her editor said she wouldn’t be back until Monday.”
He sighed, sounding defeated, but tried to cover it up by saying, “Well, you’ll talk to her Monday then.”
“She told me not to get involved.”
Sean, who was clearly listening to my conversation as he sat down and tore into his lunch, nodded and pointed at himself. Yeah, he told me not to get involved, too. I didn’t mean to, not really. It wasn’t until I realized my own life was in danger that I had to dive into all of this. I was just trying to get through my first few weeks in a big city before that.
“Bernadette just wants you to be safe. She’ll be glad you’re okay,” Baxter said.
If I was okay.
“Eliza, I’m sorry, but I have to go. My co-counsel needs to talk to me before we go back into court this afternoon. I’ll call you when I get out.”
“Okay.”
I felt bad as we said our goodbyes and ended the call. Baxter should have been focused on his case, but he was worried about me getting killed and Bernadette hating him for not protecting me, even though it was extremely unfair of her to ask something like that of him. I wasn’t his problem. Or, I shouldn’t have been. She made me his problem, and even though he was doing his best to help me now, I couldn’t trick myself into believing he didn’t harbor some anger at me and her for how this all turned out.
Hunger was the last thing on my mind, but I unwrapped by PB&J sandwich and chewed it without much thought. I was halfway through it before my phone buzzed and a new email notification popped up. I tapped it and read the report on Officer Williams. It was appalling to read the things he’d been cited for, yet still allowed to remain in law enforcement. Most of the allegations had never been proven, thanks to witnesses backing out, but I had no doubt he was guilty of every single one of them. Brutality, harassment, intimidation, planting evidence, punching his partner, problems with authority, he ran the gamut. Why new agencies kept hiring him, I had no idea. They couldn’t be that desperate for new cops.
It sounded like Officer Williams had a way of weaseling out of trouble and into new jobs. It was sickening. I moved down the details Gordy had sent to Baxter, skimming the places Williams had previously worked. He started out in Texas, where he was raised, did a four year stint in the military where he was stationed in Europe most of his tour, went back to Texas for a few more years, then moved on to Pennsylvania until he was accused of tampering with evidence. After that was Southern California, then to Manhattan to spend his time harassing me and whoever else crossed his path.
All the report really told me was that Officer Williams was a lousy cop who’d left a trail of misdeeds across the country. Sighing, I tossed my phone aside and went back to eating. Our lunch hour would be up soon and I had a skills test in my cold kitchen class after lunch. I shook my head, not feeling particularly good about how well I’d perform. I spent the rest of the hour letting Sean quiz me, getting half the answers wrong even though I had taken impeccable notes and studied all week.
Once back in class, I silently chanted information I would need for the skills test in my head. Everything I needed to know was in my brain somewhere, I just had to force it through the case information squeezing everything else out. Instead of reminding myself that I needed to chiffonade my cilantro and not leave it whole, the list of places from Officer Williams’ service record kept running through my mind.
Texas, Europe, Texas, Pennsylvania, SoCal, New York. Texas, Europe, Texas, Pennsylvania, SoCal, New York. Texas, Europe, Texas, Pennsylvania, SoCal, New York.
It was oddly helpful, focusing my mind and reducing the anxiety I felt about the test. When Chef Lauren came by my station and asked me to begin my prep work for the recipe being used for the skills test, my hands started moving even though my thoughts weren’t on positioning my fingers on the knife or making uniform cuts.
I was surprised when Chef Lauren said, “Nice work, Eliza. Thank you.”
I blinked several times, then looked down at my completed salad. “Thanks,” I said before stepping back. Sean gave me a curious look, but I just shrugged. Chef Lauren moved on to the next student, leaving me to go back to the litany of places I couldn’t seem to get out of my head.
Texas, Europe, Texas, Pennsylvania, SoCal, New York.
It was still running through my head when I left the building and walked the few blocks to Saul’s, an unmarked police car shadowing me the whole way. They parked in one of the spaces
in the tiny side parking lot and got out. Seeing the two uniformed men approaching the diner behind me made my body tense, fearing they had bad news.
They gave me a nod as they came in and caught my gaze, then allowed Linnea to seat them. Breathing a sigh of relief, I hurried back to the kitchen and threw my apron on. Saul smiled when he saw me. “How’d your test go today?”
“Great, actually.” I was still a little surprised by that, but I wasn’t going to complain.
“Glad to hear it,” Saul said. “I’m going to be leaving in about half an hour. You going to be okay getting through the dinner rush without me?”
“Sure,” I said, though my heartbeat had jumped a few notches.
It wasn’t the first time he’d left me alone during the rush. It was insane trying to keep up with everything on my own, but I made it through each time. Tonight would be no different, but the speed wasn’t what worried me. Even with the cops watching the place, I would have felt a lot better with Saul there. He was a big guy. Yes, some of that was from eating at his diner a few too many times a week, but he looked like the kind of guy who could handle himself. After the rush, when it was just me and Gwen…I had zero faith we’d be able to fight off someone intent on killing me.
Saul still knew nothing about the murders or threats, though, so I smiled and reassured him I’d be fine on my own. After that, the orders started coming in and I didn’t have time to think about what might happen. Halfway through the dinner rush, Gwen arrived and slipped up to the order window without a ticket to hand over. She gestured for me to join her.
When I got to the window, she whispered, “The cops are leaving, but they said someone will be watching the diner until we close.”
I looked up and saw them on their way out. One of the pair, a young guy with brown hair, nodded in my direction before following his partner out into the evening. I told myself to take a deep breath and relax. It kind of worked. I went back to flipping burgers and cutting vegetables, hoping the rush would last all night so I wouldn’t have time to think about anything. Unfortunately, the influx of orders slowed around nine and I was left with too many thoughts swimming around in my head.
Trouble Magnet Page 22
