“We’ll find out more today when we talk to Stephen,” Chase assured her. “I plan to tell him everything we know, lay it all out on the table and see what he has to say.”
“I doubt he’s going to confess to murder.”
“He doesn’t need to confess. All we have to do is punch holes in his story and let Ellis do the rest. My friend has been known to get more than a few confessions, by the way. He’s quite proficient at interrogation and they bring him in to question suspects even when it’s not his case.”
Bailey glanced behind her. “Where is Ellis? I thought he was coming with us.”
“He had to wait for his backup guy to stay with Peyton. He said he’d be five or ten minutes behind us. Tops.”
Something else had been on her mind. Since she’d found the book she’d wondered if perhaps they were close to getting the answers she’d come for. There would be no more reason to be here.
“What happens when this is all finished?”
Chase glanced over, his own expression showing no surprise at her question. “To be fair, I’m not sure we’re all that close to finding out who killed Gwen or Frank.”
“But eventually,” she pressed, her voice quivering with emotion. “What happens then? You live here and I live there. I have a business down there and you have your life and friends. How will we do this?”
He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Whoa, sweet. You’re upsetting yourself about something we’ve never even discussed. But to hopefully make things better I’ll tell you this right now. I’m in love with you and we’re going to make this work. I know you have your bakery so it would be hard for you to relocate and I can work anywhere, so it only makes sense for me to move there with you. That is, if you want me to.”
She only heard two words out of all of that. Love. Move.
“You love me? Enough to leave your life here?”
He flashed her that smile that had her senses humming. “Had I not mentioned that before? I meant to. I love you, sweet, and I hope you feel the same. If you don’t I’m going to feel pretty stupid talking about moving down there. But if you don’t I’m still going to do it and show up at your house every day with flowers and wear you down.”
Happiness flooded every pore of her body and tears pricked her eyes. She had to swallow hard to push down the lump that was suddenly lodged in her throat.
“I love you too.” She smacked her forehead and groaned. “Shit, I’m in love. I didn’t plan on that happening.”
“Just because it wasn’t on one of your goal lists doesn’t make it any less fucking great.” He lifted her fingers to his lips. “I’m kind of on pins and needles here waiting for you to say that you want me to move down there. Do you think it’s too soon?”
Probably, but she didn’t care. For once in her carefully planned out life she was going to go for it. “Yes, but come anyway. Are you sure about that though? You have a home and property and friends. I don’t want you to regret it a year from now when you miss playing cards with Ellis and Josh.”
Chase just laughed at her concern. “Between planes, cars, and technology, I think I can keep in touch. I’m kind of looking forward to the beach and all the amusement parks. I love roller coasters.”
Hell to the no. “You’ll be by yourself. I don’t ride coasters. I’m afraid of heights. Maybe Peyton or Willow will ride with you. I bet Willow will. She looks like a risk taker.”
“You and I can ride the merry-go-round together,” Chase teased. “Or maybe the bumper cars. That’s pretty low to the ground.”
She chuckled and playfully shoved at his arm. “It’s a legitimate fear. If you fall from a high place, you can die.”
The ride to Stephen’s house hadn’t taken long and they pulled in front of his home and parked the car. Chase caught her arm before she could climb out of the vehicle. “Let me start with the questions and feel out how open he is to talking. By then Ellis should be here and we’ll let him take over. Are you okay with that?”
She was fine with it. Chase had more of a rapport with Stephen than she did so it only made sense. It was nice to be consulted though. He put his arm around her shoulders, warm and reassuring, as they walked up the driveway and rang the front doorbell. No one answered and Chase took a peek through the front windows.
“He might not be here,” Bailey said. “Plus it’s kind of tacky to look in someone’s windows. You don’t make a habit of this, do you?”
“I don’t but today it paid off.” Chase turned back to Bailey. “Stephen is on the back patio.”
“How do you know that? Can you see all the way through the house?”
“No, but listen. You can hear voices in the backyard. Let’s go ask him a few questions.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chase and Bailey strolled through the well-manicured side yard to the back of the house, the sound of loud, angry voices drowning out the chirping birds. He knew both of those voices – Stephen and Taylor. What was Gwen’s best friend doing here?
“They don’t sound happy,” Chase whispered, slowing his steps, his hand curled around Bailey’s upper arm, pulling her behind him. He wanted to keep them at an angle where the inhabitants of the backyard couldn’t see them, her body shielded by his.
It was only when he peered around the corner that he realized how angry Taylor was. She was standing there in the same pink dress she’d been wearing earlier but with an additional and completely unexpected accessory. A gun. She was pointing it at Stephen who stood in front of the large gas grill, his hands raised in surrender.
“You crazy bitch, put that down. You’re going to hurt someone or yourself,” Stephen scoffed, clearly not all that scared he was going to be shot. He looked more annoyed than anything. “You need to calm the hell down and we can talk. Maybe I can help you after all.”
“It’s too late for that. I begged you to help us and you refused. After all I did for you, you hung me out to dry. Then I find out today that you were playing me for a fool back then. You’re the lowest of the low, Stephen Baxter. This is for me and Gwen.”
Before Chase could even react a shot rang out, the recoil on the gun sending Taylor back a few steps as Stephen crumpled into a heap on the patio decking. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and he didn’t bother to think about the wisdom of his actions, only knowing that he needed to get that gun out of Taylor’s hands. She was dangerous in her current emotional state and he didn’t like to think about what she might do now to get away with her crime. He and Bailey were witnesses she hadn’t counted on.
Hurling his body forward the ten or so feet between himself and Taylor, he knocked her to the ground with a heavy thud, the gun skittering a few feet away, driving the air from his own lungs on impact. Taylor didn’t take his intervention well and began to kick and claw, screaming at the top of her lungs as her nails dragged painfully across the side of his neck. The flesh burned and he felt the cool drip of blood as it ran over his collarbone and down his chest. A flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye had him on high alert.
Bailey. What are you doing?
His only thought to keep her safe, he took a moment to glance over his shoulder and saw her kneeling next to Stephen. A knee to his solar plexus brought his attention back to the woman he was wrestling on the grass. She twisted in his grip and turned onto her belly as he grunted with the effort to pin the violent woman to the ground. She reached out, stretching her body as much as she could, her fingertips just touching the gun but his reflexes were faster and his arm was longer. He snagged it from her, the metal cold against his palm and then he backed away, scooting on his ass until he was out of her reach.
Both of them lay there on the grass, breathing heavy, clothes ripped, scratched and bruised. Taylor’s eyes had filled with tears and something seemed to give inside of her as she buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with sobs, her body language one of defeat. She wasn’t going to fight him anymore. She was done.
Carefully he levered to
his feet, keeping one eye on the sobbing woman and the other on Bailey and Stephen. Raising the gun in warning to Taylor, he slowly backed up to where Stephen lay on the patio. His face was pale and there was a large crimson stain on his chest. If they didn’t get him help soon he would bleed out.
“Is he alive? Did you call 911?”
Bailey nodded, her own cheeks wet with tears. “Yes, I called. He’s alive but barely. I asked him about Frank, Alex, and Greg. He swears he didn’t kill them.”
His heart pounded against his ribs as he took in the scene before him. Something had gone down between these two long before he and Bailey had come into the picture. Whatever had caused Taylor to snap today had been festering for a while.
“Stay with him while I talk to Taylor.”
He had to concentrate to move his legs, one foot in front of the other, as the adrenaline began to ebb away and in its place horror and pain took up residence. He thought he’d seen the worst that morning he’d watched the coroner take away Gwen’s dead body but it paled in comparison to witnessing a man shot down in cold blood.
“Taylor,” he said quietly. She was sitting in the grass, rocking back and forth as tears flowed down her face. Her makeup was smeared and running, giving her the appearance of a sad clown.
“Taylor,” he said again, this time a little louder. He knelt down but far enough away she couldn’t reach for the gun. He didn’t trust her that much. “What happened here? Why did you shoot Stephen?”
Sniffling and coughing, she rubbed an arm across her nose. “He deserved it.”
“Tell me why,” he cajoled. “Tell me what he did. I heard you say he wouldn’t help you. Why don’t you start there?”
Hiccupping, the crying woman didn’t answer immediately. When she did the words came out in a choked stream. “I asked him for help. I begged him. My husband’s business is going bankrupt so I asked Stephen for a loan. That’s all we needed to get back on our feet, but he said no. I told him that I would tell everyone the truth if he didn’t help me but he said no one would believe me, that I had no evidence. He laughed at me, said they would call me crazy. I was so angry with him but my husband said to leave it alone. That the Baxters had more power than we did so I dropped it.”
More sobs shook Taylor’s body as the sound of sirens in the distance grew closer. “Until today. What was different today, Taylor?”
She looked up at Chase with red-rimmed eyes, her lips trembling with the effort to speak. “It was you. What you said about how he was still seeing Gwen, taking her places. He used her and he used me, made me think he really loved me. I just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to pay.”
Chase swallowed hard and sucked in a breath, her words hitting him dead center in the chest.
“Stephen killed Gwen, didn’t he? You covered for him all those years ago. You were cabinmates with Gwen and you saw her leave with Stephen. You knew but you didn’t say. Why?”
Taylor nodded. “He said he loved me.”
“But he loved Gwen.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled from Taylor’s lips and she shook her head. “He doesn’t love anyone but himself. He pretended to love her, messed with her head, just like he did with me. He didn’t care if she screwed every guy at camp that summer. He only pretended to be jealous to boost Gwen’s ego, flatter her so she wouldn’t see what he really was. He couldn’t let anyone see that. No, he used her and then he killed her. He uses everyone.”
Chase rubbed his forehead, not following the logic. “But why? Why would he kill her if not jealousy?”
“Money,” Taylor sniffled, more tears rolling down her cheeks. “His dad adopted Gwen so that meant the family fortune would be split three ways, not two. He didn’t want to share what he thought of as his so he killed her. And he did it on July twenty-first just because he thought it was funny. After all, the cops would think it had something to do with Evandria when it was really about how greedy and cold he was. So very cold. He never loved me.”
The lawn was suddenly swarmed with cops and EMTs, everyone talking at once. Ellis had a uniformed cop lift Taylor to her feet and slap cuffs on her wrists while the emergency personnel loaded Stephen onto a stretcher after hooking up an IV. Bailey stood and backed away as they worked on the injured man, a strange look on her face, something between pity and revulsion.
Ellis clapped a hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Are you okay, man? You look a little worse for wear.”
The claw marks on his neck were beginning to throb along with other various cuts and bruises, not to mention the headache he had from listening to Taylor’s story. They’d been following the wrong path the entire time. They should have followed the money instead.
“I’ll be fine. I need a shower and a beer.” He wrapped an arm around Bailey and pulled her close. “How about you, sweet? Are you okay?”
She turned and pressed her face into his chest and her arms tightened around his waist until he almost couldn’t breathe. “What were you thinking, charging at her like that? She had a damn gun, you idiot. You could have been killed. As in dead. You scared me, Chase. Don’t ever do that again.”
Realizing where her distress was coming from, he combed his fingers soothingly through her long hair and pressed a kiss to her brow. She’d already lost one man and she’d thought she might lose him. No way. He was planning on sticking around for a long time.
“Someone had to take that gun away from her and Ellis was running late, as usual.” He elbowed his best friend who gave him a dirty look. “And I’m not planning to die anytime soon. You’re stuck with me, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
She slapped at his chest right at the spot Taylor had kicked him with her high heel. Shit, that hurt. That woman had to have taken some self-defense classes at one time or another.
“You better not. I have plans for you.”
He rubbed his nose against hers, nuzzling her ear. “I’m sorry we didn’t get the answer you needed.”
She shrugged, her expression stormy. “I’m not sure I believe him. He said he didn’t kill them but I don’t know. How can I be sure?”
There was only one way. Talk to Stephen Baxter again.
If he survived.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Stop being a baby,” Bailey chided Chase as she dabbed alcohol on the scratches on his neck. They were deep and raw and they probably hurt like hell but he was being extra whiny about it. He was sitting in a kitchen chair and she was cleaning the few cuts he’d accumulated during his struggle with Taylor. She was a scratcher and kicker from the looks of things.
“It fucking hurts,” he hissed, his teeth gritted together. “That alcohol burns.”
“Stay still and we’ll be done sooner. Then we can go see Peyton.” She dabbed some antibiotic cream over the marks and then stepped back to survey her handiwork. “And Stephen.”
“He’ll probably be in surgery for several hours, sweet, and then recovery after that. I doubt you’ll get to ask him any more questions until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“He said he didn’t kill Frank.”
Chase sighed and stood, pushing the chair back into place. “I know. I’m not sure I believe him either.”
The image of Stephen being shot was going to haunt Bailey for a hell of a long time. She’d seen the look in his eyes up close. “I’ve thought about it and I think he was telling the truth after all.”
“Honey, Stephen Baxter was a murderer and a liar.”
“He was facing death, Chase. There was no reason to lie then. Besides, jealousy fifteen years later? That’s a piss poor motive, especially if what Taylor said was true and he killed Gwen for the money.”
The front door swung open and Ellis breezed into the great room. “I’ve seen people killed over a pack of cigarettes. How are you feeling?”
Bailey smiled at Chase’s friend, feeling much more friendly toward him than she had a few hours ago. “He’s going to live to fight another day.”
“He’s a tough son of a gun,�
�� Ellis laughed with a grin. “Of course he was fighting a girl, so my money would have been on him for sure.”
Chase grabbed three sodas from the refrigerator, handing them out. “She didn’t give in easily and she fought dirty.”
Ellis cleared his throat, scratching his chin and shifting on his feet. “Actually I came to share some news.”
Chase reached for Bailey’s hand. “Anything good?”
“It depends. I checked on Stephen Baxter’s whereabouts fifteen years ago on July twenty-first. He was here in Williamsburg. He played in a country club golf tournament. His foursome came in third. There are photos.”
“Will he—” Bailey didn’t know how to ask.
Ellis’ lips twisted. “It’s too early to tell. He’s fighting for his life, that’s for sure. The doctor said it’s up to him now. It could go either way. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“What do we do now?” she found herself saying as the reality of everything began to hit her. “We found Gwen’s killer and that’s great but what about Frank, Alex, and Greg? I thought there was a link between their deaths and Gwen’s but it turned out there’s nothing. Not a damn thing.”
“Don’t discount what you’ve accomplished here,” Ellis said. “You and Chase helped solve a twenty-year-old cold case. I ought to make you honorary deputies. What you did wasn’t easy but you didn’t give up. I’m proud of both of you.”
Chase nodded in agreement. “Willow and Josh are still in Midnight Blue Beach checking out Evandria. At this point, all we have to go on is Guy’s belief that the men were killed by the organization. Since there’s no connection in their deaths, I think it makes the Evandria theory more believable.”
It didn’t make any sense to Bailey. “But why? Why would an organization with the power that Evandria wields kill three men? Were they some kind of threat?”
“That’s what we’ll find out,” Ellis pronounced. “But first we have to go see Peyton.”
Wicked After Midnight (Midnight Blue Beach Book 1) Page 23