“So I’m a nag because I care about whether you live or die?”
His comment took me aback. I had no response for it, so I wordlessly went to his vehicle and got in. We drove to our next destination without speaking.
The aging chain restaurant we visited was a place Justin had worked at as a busboy nearly two years ago. No one currently employed had been there that long, and the shifty manager was either unwilling or unable to find any of the old employee records to give us contact information of people who had worked with Justin.
Baxter finally broke the tense silence between us as we exited the restaurant. “I’m afraid these other places are going to be more of the same. Turnover is rampant in the service industry, so I think we’d be wasting our time if we dug much further. It’s coming up break time for us, so why don’t we go back to the station and tie up any loose ends from today, okay?”
“Okay.”
***
Jayne found us when we got to the station and brought us into her office to brief us on her conversation with Mariella Vasquez.
She said, “She didn’t have much to say about the vehicle arson—just that her neighborhood wasn’t terribly safe, so she didn’t think much of it until now. But she did have some insight for me about Rajit Prasad. I held off on contacting him about the home arson because I thought it might be better for you two to take a crack at him regarding Leann Fox’s case.”
“You think he’s a good lead?” I asked.
“I do. Mariella said she and Leann ran into Prasad while they were out having dinner one night about five or six months before Leann died. Mariella said he’d always been nice looking and fun to be around, but after over a decade, he was even more handsome and charming. He sat down with them and had a drink, and then he and Leann exchanged info. A week later, Leann told Mariella the two of them went out for coffee and caught up even more. He was married with a couple of kids; had a good job. That was right around the time Leann and Samuel started having marital problems, which Mariella did not put together at the time. Looking back, she’s wondering if maybe the boyfriend was Prasad. It all fits.”
Baxter nodded. “We’ll find him first thing in the morning.”
Jayne slid a file across her desk toward us. “Here’s the information Deputy Martinez pulled on him. He’s clean as a whistle on paper, but as you well know, that doesn’t make a difference in a crime of passion.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” Baxter and I got up to leave.
She said, “Ellie, a moment?”
After Baxter left and closed the door, I asked, “What is it?”
Smiling, she replied, “I’m checking up on you, that’s what. It’s almost time for you to head home. Are you going to be able to turn your mind off and sleep?”
I sighed. “Honestly, it’s too hard to be at home without Rachel and Nate. I may crash somewhere here instead.”
She gave me an admonishing frown. “It’s too loud here for you to get the rest you need. Why don’t you go to my house?”
“Really, I’m fine. I’ll make it work.”
“Okay. But know that I’m going to check to make sure you’re actually sleeping and not up pawing through files and driving yourself crazy.”
I smiled. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
On my way down the hall I received a text from Rachel’s number: I’ll meet with you, but only if you come alone right now. I’ll pick you up a block east of the station. You’ve got sixty seconds. Tell no one.
My heart beat wildly in my chest. This was my chance. Without another thought, I hurried out the front door and into the frigid night without even stopping to grab my coat or purse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I ran full speed down the sidewalk, cutting it almost too close in front of a couple of cars at the cross street. Panting, I made it to the end of the next block, and a sleek sports car pulled up beside me. When the passenger window buzzed down, I saw Justin Fox leaning over from the driver’s seat, grinning at me.
“Need a ride?” he joked.
I hadn’t had time to think about how dangerous (not to mention stupid) it would be to get into a vehicle and drive off with a killer. But I had to. Anything to save Rachel.
Puffing up my courage, I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
He said, “Throw out your phone.”
“Seriously?” I griped.
“Do it.”
The door was still open, so I placed my phone carefully on the sidewalk, hoping no one would come by and take it or destroy it. I closed my door and asked, “Where’d a guy like you get a car like this?”
He peeled away from the curb. “The Fashion Mall parking lot. Dozens of sweet rides for the taking. Did you do what I asked and tell no one what you were doing?”
“Yeah. You only gave me a minute to meet you. I didn’t have time to stop and talk to anyone.”
“Good. You know I’m not planning to kill you, but I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you.” He flicked open a switchblade he’d been hiding in his left hand, out of my view.
My stomach clenched. If he wanted to, he could do a lot of damage to me with that knife without killing me.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
My voice faltered as I said, “I want to pick your brain. You’ve made it difficult for us to find the person who murdered your mom, since you’ve made it your life’s work to kill practically everyone involved in the case.”
Justin laughed. “Oh, I guess I did, didn’t I? I hadn’t realized that would make it so hard for you, but I see what you mean. I guess I owe you a couple of clues, then, right?”
“Yes.”
I noticed he was weaving around town fairly aimlessly. We didn’t seem to be going anywhere in particular, and I was almost relieved that he wasn’t whisking me away to his torture barn. It wouldn’t help Rachel to get myself stuck out there with her.
“Okay. Who are you looking at?”
“Rajit Prasad, your mom’s old boyfriend, and Richard Kendrick, the man your dad thought was stalking your mom. They’re really the extent of our solid leads at this point.”
“Right,” he said thoughtfully. “My dad was convinced that Kendrick asshole did it.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“But to get my dad’s name cleared, you’re going to need proof.”
I could tell he was playing with me, and between my irritation about that and my nerves, I found it difficult to hold my tongue. “No shit.”
I noticed a slight smirk form on his lips in the intermittent lights of passing cars. He said, “Okay. Dad said some coworker of Mom’s called him up one day and told him Kendrick and my mom were doing it at work. He went in there and threw a fit and got Kendrick fired.”
“Wait. I thought he accused Kendrick of stalking your mom, not sleeping with her.”
Justin shrugged. “You’ve got to know my dad to understand. He wasn’t going to admit that someone had moved in on his territory. So he made up the thing about the stalking. It sounded better, and all he really wanted was the guy away from Mom.”
“Who was the coworker who called him?”
“Linda—”
“Beasley,” I finished for him, groaning. That bitch. She lied to us, or at least omitted a lot. But why? “How did she know your dad?”
“Only through Mom.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that. “So his only proof of an affair between your mom and Richard Kendrick was Linda Beasley’s word for it?”
“That and Kendrick brought Mom home from work a couple of times when her car wouldn’t start.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Oh, clearly they were doing it, then.”
He screeched to a halt in the middle of the street. I hadn’t put my seatbelt on, fearing I might need to make a quick exit. I managed to throw my arms out in time to ensure my face didn’t slam into the dashboard.
He turned a murderous gaze toward me. “Are you calling my father a liar?”
“My dad was not gullible,” he spat.
“From what I hear, he was drunk most of the six months before your mom died. Alcohol is known for messing with your head. It stands to reason it would make him easily swayed by things he heard from other people.”
Justin had calmed down somewhat and had started driving again.
I continued, “What about Rajit Prasad? You didn’t manage to kill him in his house fire since he was out of town. Did you make a mistake or were you only trying to send him a warning?”
His knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He was still pissed. “I…didn’t check that they were home before I started the fire. Dumb luck.”
“Why kill the ex? Did your dad think he was sniffing around your mom again or something?”
“He was sniffing around her again. Dad saw them having coffee together.”
“That’s it?”
Frowning, he said, “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? They were out on a date.”
“They were two old friends catching up. Damn. Your dad had some serious jealousy issues.”
“If you knew how many times Prasad had tried to get my mom back when my parents were first together, you’d understand.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“I even remember as a little kid when that guy would come pulling up in his douchey sports car and parade it around in front of us. Finally, one day when my mom wasn’t home, my dad decked the guy and told him to never come around again.”
“Did he stay away then?”
“Yeah.”
“Does this mean that your dad had a longer history of being violent? It didn’t just start after he and your mom lost the baby and he lost his job?”
He flicked a glance at me. “You really have done a lot of research on my parents.”
“Yeah. I’m kind of busting my ass since you have my sister and all.” I swallowed. “How…um…how is she?”
“She’s pissed at me, that’s for sure. She did not appreciate being lied to.”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you feeding her and keeping her warm enough?” After a pause, I choked out, “And not hurting her?”
He ignored my questions. “This discussion is about the case, not your sister. What else have you got?”
I willed my tears to stay put. The last thing I wanted was to appear weak in front of Justin Fox. He’d crucify me for it. “Tell me about the night you found your mom. Did you see anyone fleeing the house or anything like that?”
He sobered. “No, the cops said she’d been dead an hour or so before I got there. The kid down the street invited me to his birthday party, so I went. When I came home to tell my mom all about the party, I found her dead. I ran for help, and then the cops came.” His eyes registering hurt, he turned to me. “Do you know what I went through that night? Oh, right. I think you sort of do. I hear your mom got chopped up and put in a bunch of garbage bags, which you had to examine.”
I breathed, “Where did you hear that?”
Again ignoring my question, he said, “Your mom’s death was really hard on your sister, and you acted like you didn’t care. She resents that about you. Did you know that?”
I clenched my jaw. He’d heard it from Rachel. I didn’t know if she’d told him voluntarily before he turned psycho on her or if he’d forced it out of her under duress. Either way, he was a bastard for coercing her to bare her soul for him to exploit.
I fired back at him, “I thought this discussion is about the case, not my sister.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up in an evil grin. “Touché.”
“How did you know your mom was pregnant when she died?”
Justin again crammed on the breaks in the middle of the street, and I slammed into the dashboard once more. “Get out,” he growled, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.
He clearly didn’t like my question, which gave me all the more reason to dig deeper. “No. We’re not done yet. Your dad obviously didn’t know about the baby, and it’s pretty safe to say it wasn’t his. Otherwise he would have brought it up at the trial and tried to use it somehow for his defense. Did you tell him later? Did he know before he died?”
Justin’s expression was a mix of anguish and pure hatred.
I pressed on. “I thought maybe your mom was going to try to pass the baby off as his to save the marriage. But I don’t get why she told you about her pregnancy and not your dad. Was she considering taking you and the baby and leaving him instead? What did she tell you?”
“Shut up, you bitch!”
I tried a different tactic. “Did you not want Baxter and me to know about the pregnancy, even though you very cleverly left us a clue through your stupid Bible quotes?”
He suddenly let out a guttural roar and lunged at me. I managed to get my hands out in time to shield my face and upper body, but his razor-sharp blade made contact with my left forearm. As it sliced through the soft skin and left behind a searing pain, I cried out and clamped my wounded arm against my torso. With my other hand, I fumbled for the door handle. Before he could come at me again, I was out the door and had slammed it in his face. We were in a quiet neighborhood, so I took off in between two houses and didn’t look back. When I heard the sports car roar away, I slowed my pace, deciding it was best to weave my way through people’s backyards rather than risk going near the street, lest he decide to come back and finish the job.
My arm was on fire. When I lifted it up, I noticed a good-sized stain where I’d had it pressed against the fabric of my sweater. The gash continued to ooze blood, so I had no choice but to try to control the bleeding by holding it tight against my abdomen again. I needed to figure out where in the hell I was and go somewhere to get patched up. I shivered as a gust of wind whistled past, wishing I’d kept my head. I only hoped Justin had managed to take enough of his rage out on me and wouldn’t feel the need to turn it on Rachel.
I trudged on and finally came to a cross street. I had paid little attention to where he’d driven us, but surprisingly enough, I was only about six blocks from my house. Feeling better instantly, I jogged the rest of the way. There were still a couple of news vans hanging out on my street, so I ducked behind my house and used the spare key I kept hidden in the backyard to unlock my back door.
Once inside, I breathed a sigh of relief, only to nearly be scared out of my wits when Trixie galloped into the kitchen to greet me. My neighbor had been coming over to feed her and let her out, but the poor dog hadn’t had any other human interaction. After taking time to pet her and scratch her ears, I went to my cupboard and took out a fifth of vodka and a glass. An image of Baxter’s face flashed through my head. Grudgingly setting the bottle aside, I reached instead for a bag of chocolate chips and downed a handful of them. I had to ‘fess up to Baxter about going off on my own with Justin Fox, and I had to be clear-headed when I did it. He was going to lose his shit over this, but there was no way I was keeping it from him. Not having a landline or my cell, I got out my laptop and sent him a text message with it.
I need to talk to you. Can you stop by my house on your way home?
I got a text back from him instantly. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where in the hell have you been? The deputy at the front desk said he saw you run out of the station. And how the hell did you get to your house? He was angry with me all right. I was surprised he wasn’t using all caps.
I promise I’ll tell you everything when you get here. And can you pick my cellphone up on the way? It’s on the sidewalk a block east of the station.
It’s in my hand.
Wondering how and why he’d tracked down my phone already, I headed for the first aid kit in my bathroom, Trixie dutifully at my side. I hadn’t much more than glanced at my arm before now. It was a giant me
ss, and it had begun to throb. Not a terribly deep cut, but it ran the whole length of my forearm. I probably could have used some stitches, but I couldn’t stomach them right now, or the thought of wasting hours in the ER. I found a box of butterfly wound closures that would have to do and began to rinse the blood off my arm and cleanse the wound. No sooner than I was soaking wet up to my elbows, my doorbell rang. Trixie started barking and bumped me out of the way to make it to the door first.
When I opened the door, Baxter barged in and gripped me by the shoulders. “You were gone for over thirty minutes, without your phone, purse, or coat. You didn’t tell anyone where you were going—you just disappeared. I thought—” He stopped short and then choked out, “I thought he had you.”
I could hardly bear to look up into his troubled blue eyes. “He did. I agreed to meet him, but—”
His face dark with fury, he gave me a shake. “You went by yourself to meet with him? The only reason I agreed to go along with your ridiculous plan is because I thought I would be there with you. Did you even think about the consequences before you acted? He could have…” With great effort, he lowered his voice and said, “You’re lucky you lived to tell about it.”
A wave of horror coursed through me as I realized how right he was. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I had no other choice. He texted me and gave me one minute to meet him. If I hadn’t come alone, the deal would have been off.”
Baxter let me go and stood there for a moment, finally taking in my bloodied shirt and the towel I had pressed against my forearm. “Did he hurt you? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”
“I’m okay. He had a knife, and…he cut me with it. But it’s not deep.”
His face draining of color, he didn’t respond.
I took a step back. “Does blood on living people trigger your gag reflex?”
He scowled at me. “No.” He bent down to pet Trixie, who’d been trying to get his attention all during his tirade. “And stop deflecting.” After straightening up, he said, “Let me take a look at your arm.”
I peeled back the towel to show him the gash. He clenched his jaw.
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