Trouble Magnet

by DelSheree Gladden

  Detective Stringer raised a finger to say something, but Baxter barreled over the top of him. “No you will not! Your apartment is off limits until Williams is in handcuffs!”

  I walked over to Detective Stringer and took the gigantic cat out of his arms. Then I turned and stared at Baxter. He knew I wasn’t going to budge. His fingers curled into fists as he closed his eyes. “Fine,” he growled, “but if she makes a single noise, I will throw her out the window.”

  Not believing his threat for a minute, I turned my nose up at him and scratched between Mouser’s ears. She purred sweetly, like she hadn’t just launched herself at me for no reason and left kitty claw marks all over my neck and t-shirt.

  “At the risk of that huge-ass cat attacking me, or Baxter losing it again, could I have you look at a few pictures, Eliza?” Detective Stringer asked. He had his phone in his hand, but didn’t approach me until I nodded. “Now, Baxter was pretty sure this first one is the guy who attacked you and your friend in the hall, but he didn’t get a clear look at the guy’s face.”

  He turned the phone toward me and I pulled back on instinct as soon as I saw the image. The same hard eyes that had looked out at me from a hoodie that night stared at me now. I nodded in recognition. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”

  Detective Stringer nodded and swiped across the screen to a new image. This time I could only shrug. As if he expected that, Detective Stringer said, “Tell me if you recognize this voice.” He changed apps and tapped the play button on an audio file. Mouser mewled as my arms tightened around her portly body. Seeing my reaction, the detective asked, “Do you recognize it?”

  “From the club,” I said, “that’s who grabbed me. I’m sure of it.”

  He nodded, looking both relieved and disgusted at the same time. “The voice belongs to the man in the second picture.”

  “Who are they?” I asked. “How did you figure out who they were?” As far as I had known, there’d been no real suspects in either incident.

  Detective Stringer shook his head. “Once we knew Williams was involved, we started digging. We knew he wasn’t the guy who hit Sean or the one who grabbed you at the club, so he must have had accomplices, but he hasn’t been in the city that long. We figured whatever contacts he had were through work. We started with his case log and noticed a note from his sergeant about a discrepancy with his CIs.”

  “His what?”

  “Criminal informants. Williams registered these two as informants, but as far as anyone can tell, they never informed on anything. He seemed to be using them to do his dirty work instead.” Baxter scowled at that news while Detective Stringer looked more disgusted than ever.

  “Have you caught those two?” I asked.

  Detective Stringer nodded. “They were both picked up this morning and have already given statements fingering Williams as the mastermind behind all this in exchange for leniency. Apparently he’d requested this beat so he could watch the building, and grabbed Ms. Sinclair’s keys one of the many times she’d left them in the mailbox, made a copy, and used it to gain access to the building and her apartment the night he killed her. Then he gave it to Walter Ellsworth to break in and search for the diamond a few days later. The guy who grabbed you at the club was largely hired muscle. He didn’t know what Williams wanted, but had been told to scare you badly enough that you’d turn whatever it was over to his boss. Their testimonies alone will be enough to put Williams away.”

  “If you can catch him.”

  “When we catch him,” he corrected.

  I sure hoped he was right. It was a relief to know both of Williams’ accomplices were in jail, but I still worried about how this was all going to play out. Williams had killed before, many times most likely. He’d done it as a cop, covering up everything he was doing and never getting caught. It wasn’t much of a stretch to think he could get past them to me. He’d spent the majority of his adult life tracking down the diamond and killing anyone who stood in his way. I was hardly the biggest obstacle he’d faced.

  “Now, why don’t the two of you go back upstairs and sit tight,” Detective Stringer said. “I’ll let you know as soon as we have something.”

  Baxter grabbed my arm, like he thought I might run off or something. I sighed and hefted Mouser into a more comfortable position. The reminder that the mammoth cat was coming with us made Baxter grimace, but he didn’t argue this time. He did push and prod me back up the stairs until I was safely in his apartment again.

  “Keep that thing off my furniture,” he ordered.

  I had just set Mouser down on the ground, and we both watched the glob of fur daintily prance over to the couch and hop up onto it like she didn’t weigh four times what a normal cat should. I cringed and looked over at Baxter, shrugging helplessly. Cats weren’t exactly prone to listening to humans. “I’ll vacuum the couch after this is all over, I promise.”

  “You’ll vacuum the entire place,” he muttered as he walked into the kitchen.

  Exhausted in so many ways, I walked over to join Mouser on the couch. She climbed into my lap immediately and snuggled in for a nap. I couldn’t believe she’d been stalking the ground floor, gobbling up mice this whole time. I wondered how she’d even gotten out. Had she bolted when Williams got into Ms. Sinclair’s apartment, or had the old lady let the cat out on purpose to go chase mice?

  Probably another one of those things we’d never know.

  Despite the invasion of Mouser, Baxter flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. He was asleep a few minutes later. I was too on edge to follow his example, even though my body felt ready to drop. My phone was in my hand, waiting, pleading for a call from one of the detectives saying they had Williams and everything was fine. It stayed silent.

  Pushing her nose against my hand, Mouser reminded me to keep petting her. I scratched at her ears for a second, then got lost in thought again. Annoyed, Mouser plopped her big paws on my chest and yowled at me. I reached up to pet her, but paused when I noticed her collar.

  Baxter had mentioned his crazy old neighbor had done all kinds of bizarre things. Staring at the bell dangling in front of me, I couldn’t remember hearing it jingle once since I found the cat. Why would Ms. Sinclair have put a broken bell on the cat’s collar? Sneaky as cats tended to be, lots of people put jingly bells on their collars so they knew where the little critters were. My grandma had done that. Her cat was possessed, I was sure of it, and no one wanted that devil sneaking up on them. She’d scratch up bare legs in an instant.

  Why put a bell on a collar that didn’t make any sound, though? It was a weird bell, too, I realized as I held it between my fingers. It was bigger than a normal bell, the ball almost as big around as my thumb and first finger curled into a circle. Mouser was a really big cat, though. But why didn’t it jingle? Looking closer at the bell, I noticed the globe had a seam. Thinking that odd, I ran my finger along the seam. Surprised when my fingertip bumped into some kind of catch, I ignored Mouser’s annoyed meow and shifted the collar so I could look at the back of the bell.

  A very small hook latch held the two halves of the bell together. The only reason I could think of that the bell would need to open, was to put a treat inside, but Mouser would never have been able to get it out. It would be cruel to tease her like that. Ms. Sinclair was more than a little off her rocker, though, so who knew?

  Using my fingernail, I pulled at the catch. It took some force to pry the hook loose, but it eventually swung upward and released. The halves parted slightly, but the joint seemed stiff. Curious, I wedged my fingernail into the small gap and pushed the halves apart. Really, I wasn’t expecting to find anything at all. What I did find couldn’t have shocked me more if it had released a bolt of lightning straight to the top of my head.

  Perfectly fitted into the upper half of the bell was the largest diamond I had ever seen. I stared at the gem, then at Mouser, then back at the gem. It had been in the cat’s collar the entire time? What kind of batty old fool kept a ten million do
llar diamond on her cat’s collar?

  Shaking the diamond out of the bell, I closed the charm back up and stared at the sparkly rock in the palm of my hand. How many people had died because of this? How many lives ruined?

  Ms. Sinclair was definitely a nutcase, but the longer I sat there staring at the gem, the more I had to admit the hiding place was brilliant. I doubted anyone had even noticed the bell didn’t work. That wasn’t something you’d pick up on when a cat was trying to claw you to death.

  When tossing an apartment to look for a multimillion dollar gem, what burglar would pay attention to a hissing ball of fur slinking around the room? I felt sure, now, that Ms. Sinclair had purposely let Mouser escape the apartment when Williams came after her. Even as she was meeting her end, she was still trying to hide her guilt.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t believe what a horrible mess this had all become. A group of young people out to have some fun took it way too far and caused a massive amount of damage. Not a single one ever came forward with the truth. Even when their friends slowly started dying, some under suspicious circumstances, no one said a word. No one tried to stop it. They simply let it happen. Suddenly, I had a hard time feeling sorry for them. Any one of them could have put an end to this at any time, and they refused.

  A talented young jeweler was murdered. A family’s livelihood was destroyed. A woman slaved most of her life to make sure her brothers had a chance at a better future. An innocent young kid looking for a fresh start in the city was beaten to death for information he knew nothing about. Who else had been hurt? All for this rock.

  Reaching for Baxter, I thought of how satisfying it would be to know Williams would never get what he wanted, that he’d rot in jail for the rest of his life. My phone buzzed against my leg, startling Mouser and making her growl. Heart racing, I snatched the phone off the couch, expecting a report that it was over. Instead, what I saw was a waiting text message from a blocked number.

  Was he watching me somehow? Did he know I found it? How could he? I tapped on it, gooseflesh erupting on my arms. Half terrified he’d pop out of a closet and kill us both before taking the diamond, I almost couldn’t look at his message, but I had to.

  I know you’ve been talking to my aunt. Bad move, Eliza. If you think I won’t hurt her to get the diamond, you’re wrong.

  I gasped, petrified for Maggie. I wanted to believe he was bluffing, desperate now that he was boxed in and running out of time. The phone buzzed again and the message loaded immediately. My chest constricted, tears pooling in my eyes.

  Maggie sat tied to a chair, eyes wild and face red.

  The phone buzzed again.

  I know you have it. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. Bring it to Maggie’s or I will kill her.

  Pushing Mouser off my lap, I started typing. I had to retype just about every word because I was shaking so badly I kept hitting multiple letters at the same time. Finally, I managed to form a readable response.

  Police have the building locked down. I can’t get out without being seen.

  It wasn’t just an excuse. No one was going to let me leave, even without knowing I had the diamond.

  Go to the roof. That old bat loved to try and spy on me from up there. The far wall of your apartment faces another building. There’s barely any space between them. Jump. Come to this address or she dies.

  An East Village address followed and I had to remind myself to breathe. I knew he would do it. I had dragged Maggie into this. As much as I wanted Williams to pay for everything he’d done and know the diamond would never be his, but what if that cost Maggie her life? I already had Ben’s blood on my hands. I knew I how devastating it was to be responsible for someone’s death. I couldn’t stand by and put Maggie at risk just to protect myself. So many times I had relied on someone else to save me. Now I had the chance to save someone else, and I knew I couldn’t choose the safer option just to protect myself.

  Standing, I shoved the diamond into my jeans pocket and tried to think. If I told Baxter, he’d never let me go. Neither would the police. They’d want to set something up, have some lookalike go in my place. I doubted it would work. Officer Williams was a cop. He’d know what to look for, and kill his aunt the moment he saw police getting involved. He was also a criminal who had yet to be caught despite a slew of crimes. I’d pegged him as a lousy cop the first day I met him. Now I wondered how much of that had been an act. Chances were, I was dealing with someone much more intelligent than I’d given him credit for and this wouldn’t end well unless he got what he wanted. What only I could give him. I would never forgive myself if Maggie died when I could have saved her.

  Rushing quietly across the room, I shoved my phone into my pocket and grabbed a piece of paper off the stack of Baxter’s work documents and flipped it over. A pen was lying next to the stack. I grabbed it and wrote, “I’m sorry. I had to do it. He has Maggie. Tell Bernadette it wasn’t your fault.”

  There was a good chance neither Maggie nor I would make it out of this, but of the two of us, she had a better chance at surviving. I wasn’t counting my own chances very high, but I still had to try. Bernadette would understand that, I hoped. Turning away from the note made my eyes sting. I hated that my last contact with my sister was little more than a hasty message, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

  Unlocking the apartment door, I peeked out. Seeing the lobby empty, I slipped into the hall and sprinted for the landing, but instead of going down, I headed for a different set of stairs. My muffled footsteps seemed incredibly loud as I raced toward the roof. I was breathing hard by the time I finally made it up the five flights and hit the exterior door. Falling against the push bar, it lurched open and I fell along with it. My knee stung when it hit the asphalt roof, but I stumbled back up as the door swung shut behind me, locking me out of the building and making it much harder to change my mind about my chosen course of action.

  The locked door was probably why I didn’t spot any cops on the roof, something I hadn’t even considered until that moment. Belated relief swept through me as I looked around. I’d lost my bearings going up the stairs, but I looked for the smallest gap between buildings and headed for the edge of the roof. Peering across the four foot gap, I felt dizzy. It wasn’t that far of a distance to jump, but if I missed, the narrow alley that wasn’t even wide enough for two people to walk through side by side would swallow me up. A six story fall would most certainly kill me.

  At least the distance wasn’t any wider. I was probably one of the few people to ever be thankful for an almost total lack of early building codes in this city. Buildings were crammed in as close together as possible, allowing for more buildings and more tenant housing. That sort of thing would never fly now, but it was hopefully going to allow me to save Maggie’s life. I looked over the edge to see two uniformed officers waiting near the rear exit that had been across from the storage room. They were keeping a sharp eye on the alley entrances. I crossed my fingers, hoping they wouldn’t look up.

  Backing up, I tried very hard not to consider the height. Don’t look down. Focus on the landing. Bernadette used to run track. She was awesome at hurdles. My extent of involvement was to tell her she’d done a great job at the end of each meet. This would be nothing for her. I gave myself a fifty-fifty chance of not falling to my death.

  I jumped anyway.

  I couldn’t stop myself from closing my eyes as soon as my last foot left the roof. It was stupid, I knew that. Pain blossomed on my already bruised knee, as well as the other one, before I realized I’d even landed, then I toppled onto my hands and elbows and scraped those up, too. I was lying on my back, hissing at the pain, before I even comprehended the fact that I’d made it.

  My eyes twitched open. I jerked up to sitting, shocked I was still alive. I did it. Listening for sounds that the officers had seen me, I gave it a full minute before daring to move. Even then, I crawled back to the edge of the building and peeked over the top. They were still standing there
, watching the ends of the alley, probably bored out of their minds.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I reminded myself this was nowhere near over.

  26: Trouble Magnet

  Rising to my feet, I looked around and wondered how on earth I was supposed to get down. Officer Williams’ instructions really hadn’t covered that. There was a door that led down into the building, but when I yanked on it, nothing happened. Locked.

  Okay, surely there was a fire escape or something, right? Maybe. My apartment didn’t have a fire escape, because the building I was standing on was too close to allow it. Apartments on the other side of the building had them, though. Surely this building had at least one side that sported a fire escape. Did they seriously have no sense of safety at all when these buildings were built?

  Moving away from the area I had jumped onto, I carefully leaned over the back side of the building, the only other possible place a fire escape could be. I almost cried at the sight of the metal framework bolted to the back of the building. Then I really almost cried when I realized how far down it was. There wasn’t a handy walk-on platform from the roof. No, the first level of the contraption began at the window of the apartment below my feet, a good eight foot drop.

  I supposed it could have been worse.

  Lying down on my belly, I inched my legs over the edge and wiggled my body over the side. That was not comfortable in the least, and got even less so when I tried levering myself over the raised edge of the roof to hang down as far as I could before dropping. My hands and arms were already killing me from my fall after the jump, and I was sure I’d added a few more scrapes to my bruised ribs trying to get over the edge. Finally, I was dangling off the building like a lunatic, and then I let go.

  I had to swallow a scream as I felt weightless for all of half a second. Then I groaned as my feet hit, knees buckled, and I crumpled to the platform of the fire escape. “Ow,” I whined as I lay there for a few seconds. If I was still alive in twenty-four hours, I was blowing what money I’d saved up on a spa day. There didn’t seem to be a single inch of me that didn’t hurt by that point.