He turned to Matt, who stood with his legs wide and his arms folded across his chest. “You’re Travis’s friend, aren’t you?” Baxter asked.
“Yes, but he’s also my bodyguard,” Sedona said, her eyes sparkling. “My mom is overprotective. And Cassius Clay had another gig.”
Baxter laughed and invited them inside. He wasn’t all that large, but the room seemed to shrink when he entered it. “Give me a minute. I was in the middle of something.”
Sedona pulled a small spiral notepad from her purse. It was hot pink. “Can I sign you up for three dozen glazed?”
He leaned against his kitchen counter, gluing a tiny doorknob on an elaborate dollhouse, when he stopped and looked at Sedona again. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” she said. “But you probably saw one of my on-stage performances. I’m a member of the Tom Thumb Players.”
Again, he laughed. “Do I look like the kind of man who goes to the theater?” He squinted and stared at her hard. “What do you really want?”
Knowing he’d recognized her, Matt grabbed Sedona’s arm. “We need to go and leave this poor man alone. He doesn’t want any donuts and you’ve bothered him long enough.”
“He asked me a question.” Sedona jerked away, ignored Matt, and looked up at Baxter. “I want lot of things. But right now, I want you to buy my donuts. When I’m older, I want to be an actress. And this trip to Pasadena could be my big chance to get discovered.”
Matt stepped closer. His fists were cold and knotted shut. He looked around. Through an open doorway, he saw a pink bedroom, a canopy bed. A bookcase painted white with pink rosebuds. The long, windowless wall held a hand-painted mural of a castle and a horse-drawn carriage with a dark-haired princess inside.
“If it were your little girl,” Sedona said, shooting a glance at one of the photographs on his wall, “with a chance like this, wouldn’t you want people to help her reach her dreams?” Sedona’s gaze locked with Baxter’s.
He grinned. “You’re something else, kid. Put me down for three dozen. And then get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”
Sedona smiled. “Thank you. And we’ll leave as soon as you tell me why you masqueraded as a garage door repairman last Sunday morning.”
Matt felt something like ice-cold electricity shoot through him. He reached for her arm and pulled her close to him.
Baxter laughed. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I was right here last Sunday morning. Making pineapple upside-down cake, like I always do. Go over to the restaurant and have a piece. Tell the pretty, dark-haired waitress, her name is Gracie, that it’s on me.”
Baxter followed them to the doorway. His shoelaces were too long and the tips made a clicking sound against the hardwood floor.
Once they were outside, Baxter closed the door behind them.
Chapter Forty-One
Radhauser was nearly finished with Gracie and about to head over to talk to Charlie Anderson when Baxter entered the restaurant, dressed as a chef. He looked around, spotted Radhauser talking with Gracie, and a big smile crossed his face.
Gracie slipped from the booth and leapt to her feet. “I gotta go,” she said, and was halfway to the bar before Radhauser had a chance to respond.
Baxter whispered something to Gracie and she hurried over to a table where two middle-aged men sat studying their menus.
Radhauser motioned Baxter over to the booth. He didn’t make a habit of lying to suspects, and lying to Baxter about his DNA was the most gratuitous kind of cruelty, but Radhauser believed he had no other choice. “I didn’t know you were a cook, too.”
“I hired someone a few years ago. But I still work the kitchen a couple days a week. And I bake pineapple upside-down cakes almost every morning. What brings you all the way out here again? You got a crush on Gracie?” Baxter worked a toothpick into the gap between his front teeth.
“I came to talk to you.”
Baxter laughed, a dull clattering sound. “I already told you everything I know.” Sunlight shone through the window and particles of dust hung in the air above the table.
“Sit down for a moment. I talked to the ME last night. He put a rush on your DNA and I have some paternity results for you.”
Baxter slipped into the booth and stared at Radhauser.
“Crystal was three and a half months pregnant with a girl.”
Baxter passed a shaking hand over his eyes. “A girl? Are you one hundred percent—” He stopped abruptly. “Do you know if she was mine?” Baxter’s voice wobbled like a tightrope walker without a net, who’d made the mistake of looking down.
“Do you want to go someplace more private?”
“No. Just tell me.”
Radhauser set his glass down too hard and his iced tea sloshed over the side. He took a deep breath and lied. “The DNA matched. No doubt. I’m really sorry, Mr. Baxter. But that baby girl belonged to you.”
There was an awful pause. The air in the room had a tightly packed feel, dense and brittle. Radhauser kept staring into Baxter’s eyes, locking on, and in the moment it took for Baxter to change his expression, to force the truth from his face, Radhauser caught him.
Baxter’s gaze shifted toward the window.
Radhauser felt the warm current in his blood. Baxter had either killed Crystal or knew who did. The kid was right. Loren Garrison had been framed.
And now Radhauser had to be very careful. “I need to get going. In case you haven’t heard it on the news, we’ve arrested a suspect in Crystal’s murder.” He wanted to put Baxter’s mind at ease until Radhauser had time to get the proof he needed. He slipped out of the booth. If Baxter noticed, he gave no sign.
At the register, Radhauser got out his wallet to pay for the tea, glanced at the photograph of Laura and Lucas he’d recently placed in the compartment where he’d once carried his driver’s license. To his surprise, a feeling of profound belonging washed over him. They’d been a family. And in some ways, they always would be, but it was time for him to move on.
“Is that your wife and son?” Gracie asked.
“Yes.” Radhauser had finally figured out what mattered most was giving yourself over to the people you loved.
“They’re beautiful,” she said.
“Yes. They were.”
He gave Gracie a five-dollar tip, then looked back at the booth where Baxter still sat with his head in his hands.
When he heard the sound of a lawnmower, he followed it around the garage and into the yard behind Baxter’s house. He made a note of the second garage door, realizing in a flash that Baxter had it installed because of his phobia about backing up. So, that’s how he managed to get his vehicle out of the garage without activating the motion light.
Radhauser walked along the concrete driveway to the alley where Baxter could have easily driven around to the windowless side of the restaurant and gotten out onto Oracle Road.
When the man cutting the grass spotted Radhauser, he stopped the mower and turned off the engine. His face was red and his forehead covered in sweat. He wiped it with the back of his hand.
Radhauser hurried over to him. “I’m Winston Radhauser. Are you Charlie Anderson?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Your wife told me I’d find you here. I’ve got a garage door that won’t open. I saw your vehicle last Sunday around Oracle and Ina.”
“That wasn’t me,” he said. “Bax borrowed my van to pick up crepe myrtle at that nursery down on Oracle and Orange Grove.” He nodded toward three five-gallon pots on the back patio. “Call my wife back. She can set you up with an appointment for Tuesday.” He walked over to a picnic table on the deck and picked up a bottle of beer, took a long swig, and then placed it back on the table.
Radhauser headed for his car to radio for backup. Halfway across the parking lot, he spotted Matt’s Mustang, parked beside the Anderson’s Garage Door van. Both Matt and Sedona stood beside it. While he had to hand it to the
kid for his clever piece of detective work, he hoped Matt hadn’t done anything stupid.
Matt smiled when he spotted Radhauser. “Sedona recognized Baxter as the guy who posed as the garage door repairman. Do you believe me now?”
Radhauser tipped his Stetson. “Any time you want a job working for me, you’re on, kid. We could use another pitbull. But right now, I want you to go home and wait. I’m going to radio for backup. And then I have another lead to follow. But I’m arresting Thomas Baxter for evidence tampering. I know he planted the scissors in your father’s car. And if he didn’t kill Crystal, he knows who did. One way or another, your father is coming home.”
Sedona gave him one of her dazzling smiles. “You sure you don’t need any more help?”
Radhauser laughed. “You’ve done quite enough, thank you very much.”
“May I go with you when you tell my dad?” Matt asked.
Radhauser nodded, a sense of pride welling inside him. So, this was what it felt like to watch a boy turn into a man. He dropped his arm across Matt’s shoulders. “I’m sure your dad would like that. I’ll call you when the paperwork is done.”
“I want to go, too,” Sedona said. “I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him how we solved the case.” She bowed from the waist.
Matt clubbed her gently across the back of her head as she climbed into the Mustang. He closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. There he paused, grinned, and tipped an imaginary Stetson at Radhauser, then got into the car.
Radhauser stood for a moment, watching the Mustang turn out of the parking lot and head towards Oracle Road. Then he called for backup, took the handcuffs from his car, slipped his revolver from his holster, and hurried back inside for Baxter.
* * *
Millie lived in a small cottage-like bungalow on Sparrow Wood Lane, about four miles north of The Silver Spur. The house was painted yellow and had blue shutters with hearts cut out of their centers. A lavender-colored picket fence surrounded the front yard. The house had no garage, and the white Chevy Beretta GTU with the spoiler and red racing stripes in the driveway made Radhauser smile, despite the gravity of his mission, and it told him Millie was home. He opened the gate and walked up the poppy-bordered sidewalk. The property surprised him in that it was perfectly maintained—the small yard landscaped with rocks and drought-friendly plants. A place Millie obviously loved.
He tapped on the door.
She opened it, wearing a pair of white shorts and a blue and white sleeveless sailor shirt cropped just above the waist—an outfit that might be appropriate for Sedona. “Hey, sugar. It’s about time you asked me out on a date.”
Radhauser tipped his Stetson. “May I come in?”
She nodded, gave him a big smile and stepped aside. “I reckon there’s never been a time I wouldn’t invite a handsome cowboy into my house. Can I get you something?” She cocked her head. “Coffee, iced tea, or me?”
He laughed. “I’ll take the tea.”
“Too bad. I’m much sweeter.” She poured two glasses of sun tea and handed him one.
He took it, along with the napkin she offered, and sat down at her kitchen table beside a bay window overlooking the backyard. He removed his Stetson and set it next to his iced tea. There was a bowl of fresh fruit on the table—apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, and Bing cherries. The mingling smells made his stomach churn. Or was it the task in front of him?
Millie sat across the table, her gaze fixed on his. “Did you have that talk with Baxter?”
Radhauser had already lied about this once, and rationalized another wouldn’t matter. “I put a rush on the DNA. Turns out the baby was his.”
Her face, partially hidden behind her hair, grew very still. “I thought those tests took a long time?”
“They do,” he said, and then lied again. “Unless they’re ordered by the Medical Examiner.”
“Does Bax know?”
Radhauser nodded.
She grimaced. “How’d he take it?”
“Not well.” Radhauser kept his gaze firmly on her face, wanting to see even the slightest reaction to what he was about to say. “I had to arrest him for impersonating a garage door repairman and planting the murder weapon in Doctor Garrison’s car.”
She shuddered as if a small bolt of electricity had hit her. “Trust me, Baxter ain’t got it in him to kill no one, especially Crystal.” She picked three cherries from the fruit bowl, removed their stems and lined them up in a row on the table. She glanced at him quickly, as if checking for a reaction to what she’d said.
Radhauser remained silent. He’d thought he solved the case, had enough circumstantial evidence for a good prosecutor to send Loren Garrison away for life. And that realization frightened him more than anything. He needed to tread carefully. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes.
Millie seemed like a straight-shooter, someone who’d tell the truth, especially if she thought Baxter would be in trouble if she didn’t.
“Planting those scissors makes Baxter look pretty guilty. Based on that and the fact he was the baby’s father, I suspect a jury will convict him.” He paused for a moment, giving her enough time to absorb his words. “But we both know who did kill her, don’t we, Millie?” he finally said.
She gave him a sad and closed-mouth smile before she nodded.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Did Bax give me up?”
“No.”
She gave him a real smile this time, then popped one of the cherries into her mouth, reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Her eyes puddled with tears. It took her a moment to form her question. “So, how did you know?”
Radhauser took a drink of tea, then set the glass down. “Solving a murder is like putting a jigsaw puzzle together. Sometimes you need a missing piece and once you’ve got it, the rest is easy.”
“Am I the missing piece?”
He nodded. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
She stared into his eyes for a moment, but said nothing.
“I need you to tell me what happened that night.”
Millie sighed, a bottomless sound. “Gracie tried to make excuses for Crystal missing work again. Thought she could make it better by telling Bax how excited Crystal was about getting married. But it didn’t work. Bax got all riled up. He stormed out of the restaurant. I heard his front door slam from inside The Spur. When the bar crowd thinned out, I rushed on over to check on him.”
“What was he doing when you got there?”
“Pacing. When he saw me, he started talking about how him and Crystal planned to have a baby together. How he’d had paperwork drawn up to make her co-owner of The Spur. That really got to me. It was our dream. Not much more than a hamburger shack when Bax and me first started. We go way back to high school together.” Millie stopped and stared at her hands. “He called me his partner. I guess he only meant it in the business sense. I…well, I took it to mean life.”
Radhauser waited a moment, then prompted her to go on.
“I’d heard Crystal puking her guts out in the bathroom back in late January. So, I figured she was pregnant. I thought maybe I’d go talk to her, tell her how much Baxter would love the baby. And if she and her boyfriend didn’t want it, then maybe Bax and me…” She lifted her shoulders, a trace of lost hope for a life with the man she loved still visible on her face. “We could raise it up together.”
“Gracie said your car was in the parking lot all evening.”
“I used Baxter’s car. But I swear to God, I didn’t go there to kill Crystal.”
“If not, why didn’t you take your own car?”
“When I said I wanted to talk some sense into her, Baxter tossed me his keys. I think I mentioned his fetish thing. Backing up got so hard that he had another door put on his garage. I wasn’t trying to hide anything. His car was already pointed toward the back.”
“What happened when you got there?”
“Crystal’s front
door was unlocked. I knocked, but not real loud. I knew Travis took her car to the dance, but I saw another car in the carport. The house was dark except for the kitchen and them candles she’d left burning on the coffee table.” Millie rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t imagine anything more stupid. “It was real quiet. I tiptoed down the hallway. A light was shining from under the bathroom door. Crystal’s bedroom door was almost closed. I inched it open and saw someone in her bed. I swear to God he looked like a kid about Travis’s age. It made me damn mad. I opened the bathroom door to confront Crystal and there she was passed out in the tub. So drunk she’d whacked all her hair off. And that was her best feature, too.”
Millie kept shaking her head, as if she still couldn’t believe what she’d seen in Crystal’s bed. “I could tell by the swell of her belly that I’d been right. She was at least three months. When I seen that empty vodka bottle, I thought about Bax’s baby and how Crystal’s drinking could damage it. What’s that thing they’re always warning pregnant women about? Fecal alcohol something.” She paused and looked at Radhauser again.
He wished he could laugh, but humor had deserted him. “Fetal alcohol syndrome,” he said.
“Yeah. That’s the one. I went into the kitchen to make some coffee so I could sober her up, talk some sense into her. But when I opened the drawer looking for the filters, I seen all them steak knives Crystal had stolen from Bax. At least a dozen.”
Millie started crying, big copious tears dripping from her cheeks.
Radhauser looked around for a box of tissues, then settled for his napkin. He handed it to her.
She blew her nose, patted the bags under her eyes.
A few quiet moments passed.
“What happened next, Millie?”
“It’s weird, I know. But I kept staring at that drawer full of knives, thinking about Bax giving her half The Spur, and her stealing from him like that. It made me madder than a hornet. Even madder than when I caught Harold— he was my first husband—in our bed with his secretary.”
Redemption Lake Page 29
