I was definitely in some kind of trouble, but I didn’t want to scare her. Last night was such a blur. Even after realizing Officer Williams wasn’t just trying to make off with valuable evidence and that he was actually the killer, I hadn’t stopped to think about how he’d known about the diamond. I’d suspected before that revelation that he knew about it, but not until his text last night did I actually have proof.
“We know who killed my neighbor,” I said, “but nobody knows how Officer Williams found out about the diamond.”
There was a long moment of silence before she asked, “Officer who?”
“Williams,” I said. “Blake Williams. He was the first officer on scene when Ms. Sinclair died, but we didn’t realize until last night just how connected he is to everything. It’s just how he learned about the diamond that doesn’t make sense.”
Maybe we would never know. Not unless he confessed, but I didn’t picture that happening.
“Blake is in New York?” Maggie gasped. “No, that can’t be right.”
The way she said his name made the little hairs on my arms stand on end. You didn’t call people by their first names unless you knew them. I’d only just mentioned Officer Williams to her. He hadn’t been part of our earlier discussion at all. “You don’t…know him, do you?”
“I, I don’t know. Maybe it’s not the same person. It can’t be the same person.”
“Blake Williams, grew up in Texas, served overseas in the military for four years, moved around the country quite a bit, five foot ten, wide shoulders, dark blonde hair, domineering and aggressive,” I said. “Sound familiar?”
Maggie’s breath quavered. “It sounds,” she paused, her voice breaking on the last word, “it sounds a lot like my nephew.”
“What?” I demanded.
Baxter stepped out of the bedroom, shirt in his hands, and a look of concern on his face. I was momentarily distracted by the sight of Baxter only half dressed. He’d certainly felt like a solid guy when I woke up pressed against his side, but I had to say I was more than a little impressed as he slipped a t-shirt over his head.
“My sister’s youngest,” Maggie was saying. “Michelle married young, then moved to Texas after college to take a job there in agricultural research. Blake has always been a little troubled, but I thought he’d been doing okay the last few years. I had no idea he was in New York. I would have called him if I had. I thought he was still in California. I guess I haven’t kept in contact very well since my dad’s stroke.’”
I doubted Blake wanted his aunt to know he was in the area if he’d been going around killing people, which I was pretty positive he had been. “He knew about the diamond?”
“Of course, we’d all heard it at least once. Most of us quite a bit more than that. Blake was always fascinated by the story. Most of the kids were. To them, it was just that, a story, but my dad always held onto a lot of bitterness over what happened. He idolized my aunt Janet. It killed him to watch her working herself half to death to help support not only her own family, but her parents and brothers as well. She sacrificed so much for them. They loved her for it, but my dad also hated the people responsible for putting her in that situation. He blamed Donny’s murderers even more than whoever sued my grandparents for the lost diamond.”
Maggie sighed, hurt and confusion thick in her voice. “Why would he do something like this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he thought he was doing it for his grandfather, or maybe he just thought he could get the diamond back and disappear with it.”
“He didn’t do this for my father,” Maggie said. The hardened tone left little room for argument. “Blake was always after the easy way. He craved control over others. I think that’s why he joined the police. He always talked about money, though, like it would bring him more control and respect. He was never willing to do what it took to get it. Taking it was easier.”
Her description of him sounded pretty dead on, but I needed more than that before I passed this on to the detectives. “Maggie, I’m going to have Baxter text you a picture of Officer Williams, okay? I need you to tell me if this guy is your nephew or just some bizarre coincidence of shared names.”
Baxter was standing beside me by that point, and he was already following through by the time I finished telling Maggie what I needed. She sucked in a sharp breath when the message arrived. “I was hoping it wasn’t him,” she said, on the verge of crying. “That’s Blake. That’s my nephew. What has he done?”
She did start crying, then, and I wished I could do something to make that kind of disappointment and sickening betrayal better for her in some way, but I couldn’t. The best I could offer was a confused apology. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I wish…it wasn’t him.” That was nothing, no help at all, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m sorry about your neighbor and her nephew.” Maggie sniffed and took a few deeps breaths. “I can’t believe he would do all of this just for a diamond.”
“Well, ten million dollars will make people do crazy things,” I said, not sure I really wanted to make any sort of excuse for Officer Williams. I didn’t want Maggie feeling responsible, either.
She choked on the breath she was trying to take in. “What? How much?” She exhaled slowly. “I had no idea.”
“I doubt many people did.”
“This is all such a horrible mess.” She sounded like she wanted to start crying again. I knew the feeling.
Baxter was gesturing at me to wrap it up so he could tell me something. Regretting that I had to cut her off, I said, “Maggie, I’m sorry, but I need to go. Can I call you later?”
“Of course,” she said. “Please let me know what happens.”
More likely than not, it would be on the news for one reason or another. Someone would either report another murder in this madhouse building, or the solving of a fifty-year-old crime. Regardless, I promised I would contact her later and ended the call.
“I’m going down to talk to Detective Stringer. He wants to discuss this but doesn’t want to leave the front of the building.”
“Why?” I argued. “What does it matter? Don’t leave me here by myself, please.”
Baxter’s expression softened. “I’m just going down to the lobby. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I wanted to tell him, no, it wasn’t okay, but I knew I would sound like a giant baby if I did. So I nodded instead. Baxter pulled me into a hug, squeezed me once, then ordered me to stay put and lock the door behind him. I did exactly as he asked, which probably would have earned me a sarcastic comment if he hadn’t been so preoccupied. Curling back up on the couch after I locked Baxter’s door, I stared at the black screen of the TV. Turning it on and having to listen to the noise it would produce sounded unappealing and unsafe. I left it off and just sat there until my phone rang again and I almost jumped out of my skin.
Once I had it in my less-than-stable hands, I checked the number. It wasn’t from a blocked number like the threat I was sure had come from Officer Williams, but I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” I asked after accepting the call.
“Eliza, dear? Could you please come down and do something about the noise in my walls? Sonya told me to tell her right away the next time I heard noise, because she doesn’t believe me. Well, it’s happening right now and she won’t pick up her phone.” She sighed dramatically. “So I need you to come down to my apartment and listen to the noise so Sonya will know I’m not going senile.”
Mrs. Osgood most likely was going senile, but Sonya was almost positive the noise in her grandmother’s walls was just some pipes or vents knocking around. It was an old building, after all.
“Mrs. Osgood, I’m really not supposed to leave Baxter’s apartment. The police…”
“Baxter?” she demanded. “I sincerely hope you aren’t getting mixed up with him, dear. He is trouble all around and I don’t approve at all.”
“He’s not that bad,” I said. “Really if you’d just…”
<
br /> “Don’t try to change my mind about him,” she said. The disapproval in her voice was laughable. “Now, you come down here and listen to this noise. I’ve had just about enough of it waking me up at night.”
“But, I can’t. I…”
“No, no,” she said, “let’s not argue about it. Baxter will just have to make do on his own. I’ll expect you down here in a few minutes. You really should hurry, because the noise might stop any minute now.”
She hung up before I could continue to argue with her. I knew Sonya was stressed about the carpet layer, the police watching the building, and Officer Williams being on the loose after threatening me. The last thing she needed to deal with was her kooky old grandmother. Baxter would be pissed, but my hope was that I could run down, quickly identify the noise, and hurry back to Baxter’s apartment before he finished talking with the detective.
The biggest obstacle was Baxter himself. Before leaving, he said he was just going down to the lobby, which I needed to cross. Sighing, I knew it would be next to impossible to get by him without being caught. I could really only hope he’d just be a good sport for once and help me figure out what was causing the noise. Knowing how unlikely that was, I unlocked the door anyway and tiptoed down the hallway.
Baxter’s back was to me as I began descending the steps. Detective Stringer was staring right at me. He gave me a questioning look when I froze. No doubt he’d seen my sneaky stepping down the hallway as well. I probably looked either like a moron, or like I was trying to escape the police guard. Not wanting to give him any reason to doubt the wisdom of protecting me, I straightened and walked down the rest of the steps like a normal person.
Halfway there, Detective Stringer motioned toward me, and Baxter turned around, a glare painted over every inch of his face. “What are you doing down here?” he demanded.
“Mrs. Osgood needed…”
“I told you to stay in my apartment,” he growled. “I don’t care what Mrs. Osgood needs! Is it really that hard to follow one simple request meant to keep you alive? Go back upstairs!”
Detective Stringer didn’t say anything, not to support Baxter or defend me. He seemed more interested in seeing how this would play out than anything else. Annoyed by both Detective Stringer’s passive involvement and Baxter morphing back into a domineering prick, I marched down the rest of the steps and walked right past him.
“I’ll be at Mrs. Osgood’s if you need me.” I stepped out of reach and glared at him. “If you think Officer Williams somehow managed to get past all the cops watching this place and is hiding in our landlord’s apartment, you’re welcome to try dragging me back upstairs.”
“Eliza,” he challenged, taking a step toward me.
Half convinced he would chase me down, I took a quick step back. “I’m going to be across the lobby. That’s it. I don’t want to sit up there all day alone.”
The last word came out harsher than I meant it to, like I blamed Baxter for leaving me in his apartment. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it like that. No, I didn’t want to be alone, but it wasn’t his fault Detective Stringer had asked him to meet him in the lobby. It affected Baxter, either way. Squaring his shoulders, his hostile stance opposed the hint of hurt in his expression. I only saw it for a moment before he turned around and went back to his conversation. Only Detective Stringer’s eyes followed me as I backed toward Mrs. Osgood’s apartment.
Feeling guilty, but more determined than ever to see this through, I turned around and hustled to my possibly senile landlord’s door. As soon as I knocked, the door was yanked open. “I really thought you’d be quicker than that. You’re so young and fit looking, it shouldn’t have taken you any time at all to run down one flight of stairs.”
“Sorry, I was…”
“No matter,” she interrupted, “hurry in here. Quick. I can still hear the noise and it almost never lasts this long. It’s going to stop any second.”
She grabbed my hand with strength that surprised me, and dragged me through her apartment to her guest room where she shoved me toward the far wall. At first, I didn’t hear a thing. I worried I’d pissed Baxter off for no reason, but then, I heard it. Scratching. Shuffling. Hissing?
My first guess would have been rats, but Sonya had mentioned more than once over the past week how any sign of rats or mice on the ground floor had vanished. The hissing confused me. I’d heard of hissing cockroaches, but I didn’t think that variety were city dwellers. Seemed like more of a jungle kind of bug. Snakes seemed unlikely, too. What else would be crawling around in the walls hissing as it went?
“Mrs. Osgood, what’s on the other side of your apartment?” I asked.
“You hear the noise, right?” she asked. She’d been so adamant about the noises being real, but there was relief in her voice and expression as she waited for my response.
I felt bad Sonya hadn’t believed her, but without hearing the noise myself, I hadn’t believed her either. “Yes, I hear it. It sounds like some kind of vermin.”
“Sonya said the mice were taken care of,” she argued.
“I know, but something’s definitely moving around. What’s on the other side of that wall?” I asked again.
Mrs. Osgood waved her hand dismissively. “Just an old storage room.”
“I thought you didn’t have any storage areas in the building.”
“Not for the residents, no, of course not. That was Mr. Osgood’s personal space. He kept odds and ends in there.” She thought for a moment, then waved her hand again. “I really have no idea what’s in there anymore. Sonya deals with that sort of thing now. She’s been in and out of it a few times since Ms. Sinclair died, so you’d have to ask her about its contents.”
Not exactly thrilled with the idea of crawling around in a dusty, spider web encased storage room, I couldn’t exactly leave now. Baxter would think I’d just been trying to make him mad and Mrs. Osgood would continue being woken up in the middle of the night. I figured I might as well try to do something useful before my time ran out.
“Do you mind if I take a look in the storage area?”
Judging by her expression, she would happily push me into the room to help me on my way. “Aren’t you a dear,” she said as she shuffled toward her kitchen. She came back bearing a key and a flashlight that had been stuck to the side of her fridge by a large magnet built into the handle for exactly that reason. “Here you are. Just be careful, remember? It’s probably a mess. Mr. Osgood never was any good at cleaning or organization. Sonya’s not much better.”
Great.
“I will.” I took the key and flashlight and followed Mrs. Osgood back to the front door. She didn’t offer to come with me before ushering me back into the hall. The door closed firmly once I was out, and I sighed. Living in this place was a test of even the nicest person’s patience.
I walked down the hall, looking for this storage room I hadn’t known existed. By the time I made it to the end of the hall, I was convinced the old lady had made it up. I turned, ready to head back, and saw a plain door hidden in a dark corner opposite the rear exit of the building. Maybe she wasn’t as crazy as I thought. I strode down the hall and gave the key a try.
The way things had been going, I didn’t expect it to actually work, but the lock turned easily. I pulled the door open and immediately began to cough as dust motes swam out at me. I was just recovering from my coughing fit when a yowling mess of fur launched itself at me and I screamed.
25: Nowhere Near Over
If there had been any hope of Baxter not being mad before, it evaporated faster than dew in the middle of summer. He was livid as he wrestled a hissing, clawing cat off my chest. As soon as he ripped its claws out of my shirt—and skin—he tossed it at Detective Stringer and loomed over me. “What in the hell are you doing?”
I’d seen Baxter mad plenty of times, but not like that. He looked like he wanted to kill me himself. “Um, figuring out what was causing the noise in Mrs. Osgood’s walls?”
It
came out like a question, even though it wasn’t one. The question was whether or not Baxter was going to attack me even worse than that stupid cat had. I was not at all prepared for Baxter to haul me up off the ground and squeeze me half to death in a crushing hug.
“I thought he’d gotten to you somehow,” he barked. His angry words belied the way he was still squashing me.
I could barely move my arms, but I wrapped them around him and patted his back in an attempt to calm him down. “I’m fine, really. Sorry for scaring everyone.”
His grip eased and he stepped back, though he kept his hand on my shoulder, and not exactly in a comforting way. More like he was preparing to drag me back to his apartment should anything or anyone spring out at me again.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I honestly didn’t expect some deranged cat to jump out at me.”
Baxter shook his head and his fingers tightened on my shoulder. “It’s Mouser. That obnoxious beast of a cat must be responsible for the mysterious resolution of the mouse problem down here. I told you she hadn’t left the building.”
Screwing my nose up at him, I said, “Well congratulations. Do you want a medal?”
He scowled at me, then motioned for Detective Stringer to drop the cat.
“What? No,” I argued. “You can’t just leave her down here.”
“Why not? She’s finally made herself useful. Nobody wants that monster. Look at it,” Baxter said, gesturing at the cat, which was in fact one of the biggest and fattest cats I’d ever seen. She could take down a small dog if she felt like it.
“I’m not leaving her down here,” I said.
Baxter looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Well you’re not bringing it back to my apartment.”
I shrugged. “Fine, I’ll take her to mine.”
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