Never Come Back

by David Bell

  “She didn’t mean that,” Beth said. “That’s not the only reason she had you.”

  “I know that now,” I said. “In a way, meeting you and everything with Ronnie has made some of that clear. I think Mom probably had me and probably would have had more if she could just because she liked having us around. You know?”

  “Yeah,” Beth said. “I know. That’s why I’m off to the soccer game on a Sunday morning.”

  “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She left the apartment, and I went to take my first shower in forty-eight hours.

  Chapter Fifty-six

  I wanted to stay in the shower for a long time, letting the hot water keep running over my body until I turned into a prune. But I couldn’t afford the time. I knew the detectives were coming, and my mind raced with more possibilities. I worried that another shoe had dropped with Ronnie, or that everything we knew about Gordon Baxter wasn’t enough to convince them to go after him. I tried to contain the rampaging thoughts.

  I toweled off in the bathroom, then stepped into Dan’s bedroom. I didn’t have much choice but to put most of my dirty clothes back on. I did borrow a T-shirt and sweater from Dan’s dresser. I hoped they would keep me from smelling too bad.

  When I emerged, Dan was sitting at his desk, his books and laptop opened. But he didn’t seem to be doing any work. It looked like he was waiting for me to come out, like he wanted to talk.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  I knew he was probing, hoping to get insight into the deeper regions of my mind and soul. But who had time to go there?

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “Crazy night,” he said.

  “Is there more coffee?” I asked. “Or do you have tea?”

  He stood up and went to the kitchen. He came back with coffee and two buttered pieces of toast. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

  I was. I ate the toast so fast the crumbs flew like wood chips out of a chain saw. Dan watched me eat. Ordinarily that bothered me—it bothered me when anyone did. But today I didn’t care.

  “I can make more,” he said. “Or eggs.”

  “This will do for now,” I said. “They’ll be here soon.” I wiped my face with a napkin. “Thanks for letting us stay here last night. I know it’s crazy, me just showing up like that.”

  “With a half sister I didn’t know you had.”

  “It’s not boring around here,” I said. “Does that count for anything?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, I do appreciate it,” I said. “You’ve been great.”

  I downed the rest of the coffee. I needed the caffeine buzz.

  “You seemed to be getting along well with Beth,” Dan said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “We were thrown into the deep end together last night. But I guess being someone’s sibling is the same thing. You’re just thrown in with that person, and you have to figure out a way to make it work.”

  “She’s going to make your life pretty full,” he said.

  “It’s already full,” I said. “I have no idea what I’m doing at school. I have no idea what’s going to happen with Ronnie. For all I know, the cops are coming to the door with an indictment against him.”

  “I understand,” he said. “I’m not trying to get you stirred up.”

  “You’ve been a champ, Dan. Really. I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

  The doorbell rang. I went and opened it, but only after looking through the peephole first. I wondered whether that paranoia would last the rest of my life.

  I let Richland and Post in. They both nodded at me and then at Dan. They looked somber and serious, which only set my mind to racing. I introduced them to Dan, but Richland explained they had met him the night before at the hospital.

  “Right,” I said.

  We all sat down. Richland asked, “Where were you last night?”

  “Finding my long-lost half sister in Reston Point.” I nodded toward Detective Post. “I’m sure you told him about that, right? Elizabeth Yarbrough. The woman named in the will.”

  Richland nodded as though he knew all about it, his big head bobbing almost comically. I hoped he appreciated the openness and transparency of his female partner.

  “Is this woman around?” he asked. His hand rose in the air. “This half sister of yours?”

  “She just left,” I said. “She went back to her house.”

  The two detectives didn’t say anything.

  “She had a family function,” I said. “A soccer game for one of her grandkids.”

  “Do they play soccer games on Sunday?” Richland asked. “My kids always play on Saturday.”

  “Hell,” I said. “I don’t know.” I had become more protective of Beth, even though I barely knew her. I didn’t want them to suspect her of anything, even though I could tell their detective radar was buzzing.

  “We’ll have to talk to her soon,” Richland said. “And we will. But can you give us an idea of what you found out from her?”

  “What I found out from her?” I asked. “Everything. I found out everything. A lifetime of stuff.”

  “Care to share any of it?” Richland asked. “It might help bring some clarity to things we’ve been working on.”

  “Is Ronnie okay?” I asked. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

  Post said, “He’s okay. No worries there.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” she said. “Just give us a quick rundown of what you were doing last night. It’s important we know this.”

  So I did. I told them about finding Elizabeth with the help of Neal Nelson. They didn’t look happy about that. I went on and told them about Beth’s story. The porn movies and her forced exile from Haxton, then coming back and eventually reconnecting with both Gordon and Mom. I shared her theory that Gordon had been blackmailing Mom, and when she cut the money off, he ended up killing her.

  “I’ve seen the bank records,” I said. “She was giving money to somebody. And I can assure you it wasn’t me.”

  Post and Richland didn’t look surprised by anything I told them. It seemed I was merely confirming what they already suspected.

  Richland asked, “So you didn’t know this Elizabeth Yarbrough woman existed until your mom died?”

  “Not until I saw the will.”

  “And you believe she’s your half sister?” he asked.

  “She looks a hell of a lot like Mom. And me. And she knew a lot about Mom. If she’s not my half sister, she’s doing a good job convincing me.”

  “Right,” Richland said. “And did she indicate the nature of her relationship with Gordon Baxter? Where do they stand now?”

  “Just what I told you,” I said. “She was trying to get back in touch with Mom, and he was holding them apart to try to get money.”

  “That’s what she said?” Richland asked.

  “That’s what she told me.” I watched their faces. “Gordon knew where Beth—my half sister—was. And he told Mom he knew, but doled out the information in exchange for money. Look, my mom didn’t suffer fools gladly. I know that about her. It would be tough to take advantage of her. But this should tell you how much she wanted to see her daughter again. She was desperate. I feel terrible for my mother having to go through that.”

  They didn’t say anything. They seemed to want me to say more.

  “Are you wondering if I believe Beth?”

  Richland shook his head. “Has she asked you for money?”

  “No. I just met her yesterday. Besides, she’s getting money. A third of the estate. There’s life insurance. What are you getting at?”

  Richland remained quiet for a moment, as if he was absorbing everything. Then he said, “Okay, we wanted to let you know where everything else stood, especially as it relates to your brother.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I looked at Dan. He was sitting on the arm of the couch, his eyes focused on the cops. I
felt alone and scared. I noticed how my hands shook as I tried to tuck a strand of my still damp hair behind my ear. I looked at the front door. I thought about running through it—just get up and go and not hear whatever was about to come.

  Richland said, “We spoke to the doctors at the hospital this morning, and they seem to think it’s possible your brother could be released in a day or two. His vital signs are back to normal, and they want to get him to eat something today. If that goes well…”

  He broke his sentence off. I leaned forward, waiting for the rest. What else was there? I looked back and forth between the two detectives.

  Post smiled a little. “This is good, Elizabeth,” she said. “Our investigation has shifted its focus. We now believe Gordon Baxter is a person of interest in your mother’s death. We’re actively trying to locate him right now. Your story helps to fill in a few gaps we had.”

  I wasn’t sure what I expected. Ticker tape. A choir of angels. They were telling me the most important news I had ever heard—Ronnie wasn’t a suspect in Mom’s death anymore. And not only that, his health was coming back. He was going to be okay in more ways than one.

  I wasn’t sure what I felt. It wasn’t joy. A touch of relief perhaps?

  “Is that it, then?” I asked. “Ronnie is off the hook?”

  “Well, it’s an open case, an ongoing investigation. And you’ll have to talk to the doctors at St. Vincent’s,” Richland said. He seemed stuck for a moment, not sure what to say next. He pointed at Dan. “I suppose your… friend here… I guess he told you about the cause of the overdose?”

  “This digoxin stuff.”

  “Right.” With something to explain to me, Richland seemed to be on firmer ground. “It turns out it’s not a medication that your brother has ever taken. And Dr. Heil, after his examination of Ronnie, reached the conclusion that it was unlikely your brother would harm anyone. Not your mother and not himself. It seems clear that someone tried to get Ronnie to take that medication, to make it appear as though he killed himself. Perhaps to cover some prior crime and frame your brother for it. At least, that’s the working theory. We’ll know more when we talk to Gordon Baxter. Like we said, we’re trying to find him.”

  “Is she safe?” Dan asked, his voice full of skepticism. “This guy you’re looking for, you think he already killed somebody and tried to kill somebody else.”

  “Two people,” I said. “He tried to kill Neal last night.”

  “Is Elizabeth safe?” Dan asked again.

  “You should certainly be cautious,” Post said. “Mr. Baxter knows where you live.”

  “Can you put her somewhere safe?” Dan asked. “You know, some sort of protection program? What does this guy even want? Do you know, Elizabeth?”

  Richland answered for me. “We don’t really do that,” he said. “Put people in a protection program, unless it’s a really dire situation. As far as what he wants…” He looked at me. “Didn’t you say he wanted money from you? Money from the life insurance policy?”

  “That’s what he said,” I said.

  “I don’t see how he can expect to get that anymore,” Post said. “He may have gone after Ms. Yarbrough because she knew so much about him from the past. But now we all know.”

  “I think you’ll be safe,” Richland said. “A guy like Baxter, you have no idea if he’s even going to stick around in a town like Dover. His last known address is an hour away in Columbus, and he has an outstanding warrant there. He’s not really looking to wait around until the law finds him. Chances are, he’s left already, moved on to some other town. He’s an old man, and he knows the noose is closing.”

  If I was supposed to take comfort in that bit of wisdom, I didn’t. It made sense that someone might run off when the noose tightened. I knew that better than anyone.

  But what about those people who kicked and fought the more the pressure increased? Didn’t Gordon Baxter seem more likely to be one of those guys?

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  They released Ronnie from St. Vincent’s two days later. I spent those two days trying to get my life back to normal again. I lived at Dan’s house for the most part. We drove to my apartment once, so I could get clothes and toiletries and my laptop. But otherwise I camped out with him. And we talked, mostly about the future. My future, not his and mine. I knew Ronnie was leaving the hospital. I knew he still had some recovering to do, both physical and emotional. He needed as much stability as possible. Frank Allison checked in with me. He told me Ronnie was free and clear, that everything on the legal side was in order. My brother was coming home to live with me.

  And I talked to Paul about Ronnie… and about everything else. He and I had a long talk the night before Ronnie was discharged. I told him everything that Beth had told me, the whole awful story of why she’d left Haxton and how she’d slowly worked her way back to contact with Mom and Gordon again. Paul listened skeptically, and when I reached the part of the story when Beth said Mom knew about Gordon’s crimes, Paul nearly jumped out of his chair.

  “No, no, no,” he said. “That’s not true. No way.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m with you.”

  But he didn’t hear anything else I had to say.

  “No,” he said. “This woman is a liar. None of this is possible. None of it.”

  • • •

  On the day of Ronnie’s discharge, I went to St. Vincent’s with Paul. There were papers to sign—lots of papers—and follow-up appointments to arrange. When all of that was finished, we began the long waiting process. Ronnie, like all the other patients, no matter their condition, had to be taken out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Strangely, the hospital didn’t have enough wheelchairs to facilitate the release of all its patients. So we waited. And we waited.

  At one point, Paul left to use the restroom. I leaned close to Ronnie and said, “You knew we had another sister, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. His skin looked a little pallid, and he’d lost some weight. But I saw the same life in his eyes he always had.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “I thought we were buddies.”

  “Mom told me not to,” he said.

  “Figures,” I said.

  “She said she wanted to tell you,” he said. “She told me, ‘Ronnie, no surprises.’ So I kept my mouth shut.”

  “Right. Mom didn’t like surprises. She sure sprung them on us, didn’t she?”

  Ronnie wouldn’t say anything bad about Mom, even as a joke. He changed the subject. “Where is Eliz—I mean, Beth? Where is she?”

  “She’s coming over tonight,” I said. “Once we’re home and you’re settled in, she wants to see you. She’s been worried about you.”

  “With her family?” Ronnie asked.

  “Yes. She has a big one. It’s not like our family.”

  Ronnie seemed to consider this for a moment. “Mom said her family is our family now. Do you think that?”

  I’d been thinking about it. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. No surprises. A sister. Nieces and nephews. Their children. It was a lot to take on. “I guess so,” I said. “I guess we’ll all have to get used to each other.”

  “A lot of change,” Ronnie said.

  “Yes. But we’ll be in the old house. You can be back in your old room. It’s just the way you left it.”

  Paul came back into the room just then. He told us that he had seen an orderly in the hallway, and Ronnie was the next to go as soon as a wheelchair became available.

  Ronnie shrugged, as if to say, I’ve heard it all before. Then his eyes opened wide, as though he just remembered something. “How are you going to go to school and stay with me?” he asked.

  “I’ve worked it all out,” I said. “I’m withdrawing from my classes this semester.”

  “You can’t quit,” Ronnie said.

  “I’m not quitting,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking the rest of this semester off while we all try to get back to normal. I’ll figure out the next
step around the holidays.”

  “I don’t want you to quit school,” Ronnie said.

  “She won’t,” Paul said. “Don’t worry.”

  But Ronnie’s brow was still furrowed. I knew he tended to worry. He hated to upset people. He obviously felt a lot of guilt about the issues he’d had with Mom. I didn’t want anything else added to that.

  I put my hand on his arm. “Ronnie, this is the best way. I’m happy about it.”

  He looked at both of us. Paul and me. His entire support system.

  “What is it?” Paul asked.

  “Is it safe?” Ronnie asked. “You said the man who killed Mom is still out there. He hasn’t been arrested.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. It had been two days since the police came to Dan’s apartment and explained everything to me, offering their assurances that Gordon Baxter was probably gone. And there had been no sign of him at Dan’s apartment or mine. Nor in Reston Point, where Beth lived. No one had seen or heard from him. Neal’s wounds were healing, and he too would soon be released from the hospital. Gordon Baxter faced a murder charge as well as two attempted murder charges. Why would he stay? And if he did, what could any of us give him?

  “Ronnie, are you sure you don’t remember that man coming into your room and giving you some pills?” I asked.

  “I don’t, “he said. “I don’t remember any of that day.”

  “It’s okay Ronnie. And it’s safe,” I said. I mostly believed it. “The police are going to arrest that man. And we’ll be careful. I promise.”

  “And you can come visit my house anytime you want,” Paul said. “We still need to take that fishing trip, right?”

  Ronnie looked slightly relieved. Some of the nervousness left his eyes.

  I hoped I was managing to hide the nervousness that remained in mine.

  • • •

  Mom’s house felt less haunted by her memory when we all arrived. I didn’t know whether it was because enough time had passed since I had been there or because I was going with Ronnie and Paul. Did our small little group bring comfort and ward off the bad memories? Would it be a different story in the middle of the night when I was staring at the ceiling cracks at three a.m.?