When I found Baxter, he was sitting at his desk, eyes glued to his computer screen.
“Are you at a stopping place?” I asked.
He looked up, his eyes even redder than before. “I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“You’re telling me you had to chase down and cuff a naked guy your first day on the job?” I asked, trying not to snort coffee out my nose between laughs. “That’s too ridiculous to be true.”
Baxter and I were sitting across from each other in a booth at Mabel’s Coffeeshop, having breakfast. It wasn’t far from O’Loughlin’s Bar, and the place was equally as old and rundown, but they served the best omelets in town. We were guzzling coffee like it was water, and our waitress had given up on trying to keep our mugs topped off. She brought a full carafe to our table for us to serve ourselves so she could be free to flirt with a guy sitting at the counter.
Baxter pretended to be offended, but he couldn’t help smiling. “It’s the honest truth. Cops don’t lie.”
I stared at him. “I’d like to meet a cop who doesn’t lie.”
“You’re so cynical. You’re too young to be that jaded.”
He was right. “If you only knew.”
“Come on. So you had a bad childhood and you suck at dating. Is being you really that bad?”
“Wow. Are you going to call me fat and ugly, too?” I demanded.
He held up his hands as if to shield himself from my wrath. “That came out wrong. I only meant you seem to have your shit together now, so your life can’t be too terrible.”
“It’s good right now. I couldn’t have said that a few years ago.”
“What happened?” he pressed.
I didn’t want to talk about it, especially over breakfast and after I’d been awake for twenty-four hours. Come to think of it, I’d only had five hours of sleep the night before because Baxter kept me out late, so I was running purely on caffeine. Granted, he was, too. But I wasn’t asking him to delve into his unpleasant past.
“Let’s just say that there are some skeletons I’d rather keep in the closet at this time.”
His face softened. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth, he continued, “Hey, I forgot to tell you—the bullet we recovered from that can of chili at the convenience store was from a nine mil.”
I gasped. “Really? That proves your theory about multiple shooters. The store owner had a Colt .380, right?”
“Right. My dead shooter, Jenkins, also had a nine mil, but the striations on the bullet we pulled out of the store owner didn’t match the ones on the chili bullet. Durant was able to find some blood on the chili bullet, so we’re waiting on DNA confirmation that it belongs to Jenkins. Even better, the firearms examiner ran the bullet through IBIS, and as luck would have it, the bullet matched another bullet from an unsolved murder six months ago. When I finally catch this guy, he’s going to fry.”
“Good for you, Detective,” I said, proud of his persistence.
“I couldn’t have done it without your help. And speaking of your help, do you think it’s time to give your boy Cooper a call?”
Sighing, I said, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”
“Nope, sorry.”
Reluctant to put this plan in motion, I took out my phone and dialed Cooper’s number. I got out of my seat and scooted into the booth next to Baxter, placing the phone between our ears to allow him to hear the other end of the conversation.
Cooper answered after one ring. “Ellie! Thank you for calling me. I…I don’t know who else I can trust.” He sounded shaky and worried. I would have been, too, in his situation.
I gave Baxter a reproachful frown and said into the phone, “What’s going on? Where are you?”
He hesitated. “I hate to tell you over the phone in case someone is listening in.”
Again, I looked pointedly at Baxter. “Right.” This felt even worse than I’d imagined, so I made the best case I could to try to get him to turn himself in. “Coop, we all know there’s a warrant out for your arrest. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and come to the police on your own? Don’t make them find you and drag you in. Please. I’m begging you.”
“I can’t do that, Ellie. I’m innocent, and I don’t deserve to go to jail.”
“I appreciate that, but now that a warrant has been issued, the authorities have a legal obligation to bring you in.” I sighed. “Would you have a little faith in the system? You’re innocent until proven guilty, you know.”
Cooper laughed mirthlessly. “If only that were true. I won’t be jailed for something I didn’t do.” He hesitated for a moment, then in a quieter tone continued, “Ellie, I really need to talk to someone. Please say you’ll meet with me.”
Baxter nudged me.
I sighed again. Cooper had made his bed. I’d given him a chance, and he didn’t take it. Now it was time for the hard part. It made no difference if I agreed with the arrest warrant or not. The law was what mattered.
“I will. Can we do it this morning?” I cringed. Being the one responsible for setting up this ambush made me feel dirty.
Baxter gave me an encouraging smile.
Cooper said, “Yes, can I come to your house?”
“No,” I replied, my tone sharper than I’d intended. There would be no ambushing going on at my house, especially with my sister and nephew there. “I mean, Rachel and Nate are still sleeping. How about somewhere else?”
“We need someplace out of the way where there aren’t a lot of people.”
Baxter was shaking his head and mouthing, “No.”
I asked, “Can you come to Noblesville to meet me?”
“Sure.”
“How about…the donut shop on Tenth Street? It’s called Cup of Sugar.”
“Won’t it be crowded?”
“No. It’s never crowded. I don’t think they’re doing so well lately.”
Cup of Sugar had been around forever, but their business had been in a slow decline in the last couple of years. It could have been because the owners regularly got into fistfights with each other in the shop and the Noblesville police were forever having to go and break it up. Being on the cops’ shit list did substantial damage to a donut shop’s profits.
“Can I meet you there in thirty minutes?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows at Baxter. He nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be there.” I ended the call and added to Baxter, “Along with a dozen of my closest cop friends.”
Now that the call was over, I began to scoot out of Baxter’s seat, but he caught my arm. “You know you’re doing the right thing here,” he said, his expression serious.
“I know, but I wish it didn’t make me feel like such a backstabbing bitch.”
***
With one phone call from Baxter, a fleet of unmarked law enforcement vehicles converged on the area around Cup of Sugar. He and I headed straight over after I spoke with Cooper so he could clear the donut shop and be in place well before our meeting time. The owners were bickering as usual, and since there was one lone customer in the shop, it took only a few minutes to replace everyone with undercover cops. I was wearing a wire, so if Cooper said anything incriminating, it would be on tape. I felt ill. Baxter, who had donned an apron reading cup of sugar, was supposed to have already been in position behind the counter, but he stayed with me in the tiny eating area, a gesture for which I was grateful.
Pacing the floor, I said, “I haven’t been this nervous since…well, probably since my sister went into labor.”
“How long ago was that?” he asked.
“Three and a half years ago.”
“You live a quiet life.”
“If by ‘quiet’ you mean ‘boring,’ that’s where you’re wrong. Living with a three-year-old boy is anything but boring.”
“I can see where that would be true,” he said. “Your sister looks awfully young to have a kid, though.”
I n
odded. “Yeah, she started early. Rachel’s only twenty-one, but she’s a great mom. Sometimes I think she’s more mature than I am. And Nate is one fantastic kid.” I got out my phone and showed him a picture I had taken earlier in the week of Nate and Trixie snuggled up together on the couch. “These two are best buddies.”
“You seem to be a very doting aunt,” he said, smiling.
Eyeing him, I said, “And you seem to be trying to distract me from the situation at hand.”
“Is it working?”
A wave of nausea hit me when I settled back into reality. “No,” I groaned. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”
“As luck would have it, I happen to have a lot of experience with puking on the job.” He took off his Indiana Pacers ball cap and held it under my chin. “Why do you think I always wear a hat out in the field?”
Laughing, I pushed the hat away. “Because it’s standard procedure to cover nearly every inch of yourself so as not to add your own DNA to a crime scene.”
He put his hat back on. “Nope. It’s so I always have a vomit catcher.” Putting a finger to his earpiece, he said, “Roger that.” He looked at me. “Cooper’s coming down the street now.”
I sucked in a breath. This was it. My heart pounded, and my mind began racing. “What if he has a gun…or…or a knife or something?”
Baxter put his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll only be a few feet away from you, right behind the counter. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not worried that he’ll hurt me. I’m more worried about him doing something stupid like brandishing a weapon. That could start a gunfight. What if he shoots you? What if you or some other cop has to end him right in front of me? That’s one thing I don’t think I could handle witnessing. Oh, and what if I get caught in the crossfire?” I demanded breathlessly.
“You don’t even know that he has a gun,” he pointed out.
“You don’t know that he doesn’t!”
His face softened, and he steered me to a table, settling me into a chair facing the counter. “You sit here. You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Nothing bad is going to happen. We’re going to take him as soon as all the exits are secure. This should be over in a minute or two. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” He punched me on the arm. “It’s nice to see that you’re not always a total badass. I was starting to think you didn’t have any weaknesses or…girly feelings.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Baxter’s expression became serious. “He’s at the door. Game face,” he ordered, hurrying to his position behind the counter.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to calm the hell down. When I heard the door scrape open, my stomach lurched again. I took another breath and looked behind me. Cooper was standing in the doorway, “disguised” in a baseball cap, sunglasses, a ratty T-shirt, and ripped jeans. Actually, he looked nothing like himself. I couldn’t imagine those clothes belonged to him.
He strode over to the table and took the seat across from me. Taking my clammy, shaking hands, he said, “Ellie, thank you so much for meeting me. I think I’m in a lot of trouble here. Mother said the police took a rifle from Father’s gun collection as evidence and that they’re watching our house. Gianna called to tell me that they’d also inquired at school as to my whereabouts. I’m scared.” Taking a fearful glance around the room, he whispered, “And I think I’m being set up.”
“Set up?”
The wheels in my head started turning. For my money, someone else trying to pin Vasti’s murder on Cooper was a lot more plausible than him being a killer. I needed to get this information out of him before Baxter’s team swooped in and arrested him because he would likely clam up in interrogation on the advice of his lawyer. I had to buy some time so I could talk to him.
Getting out of my chair, I threw my arms around him and gave him a long hug. “Oh Cooper, I’m so sorry all this is happening,” I said, holding up five fingers to Baxter behind Cooper’s back. When Baxter frowned in response, I mouthed, “Give me five minutes.”
Baxter shook his head and mouthed, “No.”
“Five minutes,” I pleaded silently.
Baxter’s frown deepened, but didn’t shake his head this time.
Out loud to Cooper, I asked, “Who would want to set you up for murder?” Continuing to hold Cooper in a tight embrace so he couldn’t see my face, I raised my eyebrows and gave Baxter a meaningful look.
Grimacing, Baxter nodded his head. He went through a door behind the counter, I assumed to call off the dogs so I could have my five minutes. I released my hold on Cooper and sat down in my chair. Baxter appeared back at his post, his expression stony. It was clear that he didn’t appreciate me changing the game plan.
Slumping in his seat, Cooper took off his sunglasses. “I hate to say this, but I think it could be Tyler. I can’t believe my own cousin would do such a thing, but…”
“But what? Why do you think it’s Tyler? I mean, sure, he’s a snake, but why would he want to do something like this to you?” My voice wavered as I spoke. I hoped he didn’t notice.
He sighed. “I think it has something to do with my father. Mother says he may have to pull out of the election over this. After last night’s news report of the police searching my parents’ home, the party is putting pressure on him to withdraw from the race. Democratic candidates have enough trouble getting elected in this red state without the stigma of a murder investigation. I think Father’s opponent is trying to ruin our good name, and even worse, he’s using my own cousin to do his dirty work. Evidently Tyler’s loyalties lie with his employer instead of with his family.”
I could see the logic in that. Flicking my eyes at Baxter, I could tell he was considering it as well. To Cooper, I replied, “It makes sense, but why not just honey trap your dad or even lie about an affair or something? That’s an easy one, and no one would have had to die. Besides, after any bombshell is dropped, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. The damage is already done.”
Shaking his head, he said, “All politicians cheat on their wives. It’s not news. And it’s not grounds for pulling out of a race if you have an otherwise positive image.” He looked at me quizzically. “You don’t look well, and you don’t seem quite like yourself. Is something wrong, Ellie?”
He was on to me. Panic began to bubble up inside me again. I locked eyes with Baxter. I heard him utter, “Go, now.”
Cooper’s eyes grew wide. He turned to look behind him, but before he could even get up from his chair, all hell broke loose. Baxter vaulted over the counter, grabbed Cooper, and slammed him to the ground as uniformed deputies, led by Jason Sterling, began pouring into the tiny coffeeshop from the front and back doors. I pressed myself up against the wall. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Cooper as Sterling read him his Miranda rights and escorted him out of the building.
After the last of the deputies filed out of the cramped eating area, I slid down the wall into a sitting position on the floor. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. Baxter came over and sat down beside me.
Giving me a nudge, he said, “You did great, except maybe for the part where you went off book and decided to make the entire Hamilton County Sheriff’s Department wait while you had a chat with a murderer.”
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Really? So you didn’t want some admissible, candid information straight from the horse’s mouth?”
He scoffed, “Not if it was him trying to pin the Marais murder on some random killer off the street. I’ve got evidence on Cooper and another murder case to solve. I don’t need to waste my time chasing down everyone with a grudge against the former mayor.”
“Not everyone. Just Tyler Harris. He’s a piece of work. Trust me—I’ve met the guy. And would you put it past any politician to try to pin a murder on his opponent’s son?”
“That’s a stretch. Unless some kind
of new evidence drops into my lap, I’m going with Cooper for the Marais murder. I’m sorry he’s your friend. But you know as well as I do, the evidence speaks for itself.” He got up and pulled me up with him. “It won’t be easy, but you’re going to have to go to work like nothing happened. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was a walking zombie. Barely managing to stay awake as I drove home, I stepped through my front door and was immediately peppered with kisses by an excited little boy and his excited big dog.
“Auntie Ellie, you’ve been gone forever! I missed you!” Nate cried, clinging to my neck.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I had to work all night. I missed you, too,” I said, feeling a glimmer of happiness in my otherwise shitty day. I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with my nephew and sleep for the next three days, but I wasn’t going to allow myself to even sit down for fear of falling asleep and never waking up.
He pulled back from me. “You smell funny.”
Yet another thing I didn’t miss from my criminalist days—coming home smelling like a crime scene. “I’m sure I do. So, now Auntie Ellie needs to go take a shower and then head straight back to work.”
“What about breakfast? Mommy says everyone has to eat breakfast.” His eyes lit up as he had a thought. “I can make you breakfast!”
I smiled. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d already eaten. “Can you pack it to go?”
“Yeah!”
As Nate zoomed into the kitchen, Rachel came out and said, “Hey, Sis. You look awful.”
Frowning at her, I said, “Thanks.”
“Seriously though, are you okay? I thought you said you’d never work another case after…”
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