Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(51)

Zee looked over at Natalie and smiled.





TWENTY-EIGHT

After driving to the Wild West in Auburn and being told that Leanne Baxter had the day off, Ben drove to the apartment building where he knew she lived, since he’d talked to her landlord a few days ago. Calling it a shithole was being kind. Trash, piles of it, littered the parking lot and the edges of the property. Windows were covered with sheets, and more than one rat scurried past him before he made it to the stairs. A shouting match between a man and a woman was taking place inside one of the apartments.

He stopped in front of 5B and knocked.

The curtain moved. A few seconds later the door opened, but only an inch. He recognized Leanne as the one peeking through the crack. A TV blared in the background.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “How did you get my home address? That bitch at the bar, the one who—”

“I found you on my own,” Ben said, cutting her off. “I talked to your landlord, remember?”

“Oh.”

“I want to show you something, and then I’ll leave. I promise.”

Reluctantly she opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

He stepped inside, but when he turned to shut the door behind him, she stopped him. “Leave it open.”

She obviously didn’t trust him. He pulled the skull ring from his pocket and held it out for her to see. “Is this the ring you saw that night?”

Her arms were crossed over her chest. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. “That’s it! How did you get that?”

Ignoring her question, he said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind working with a forensic artist to identify the two men who left with Sophie Cole the night in question.”

“No need to hire a forensic artist,” she told him.

“Why is that?”

“When I saw you yesterday, there was something about you that looked familiar, so I looked you up on the Internet. I read all about the accident you were in the very same night Sophie Cole disappeared. You have amnesia, and you don’t remember anything. But I do.”

Ben knew Sophie had gone missing around the same time of his accident, but until now there had been no reason whatsoever to connect her disappearance to what had happened to him. Sophie Cole had gone missing on a Friday. His accident had happened early Saturday morning.

“The man driving the car,” Leanne said, “the one who died that night, was Vernon Doherty. I saw more than one image, and I can guarantee you that it was him. He was the one wearing the skull ring, the man Sophie attacked with the broken bottle. And you,” she said with an accusing finger, “were the other man in the parking lot that night.”

Ben looked her square in the eyes. His heart skipped a beat. “You’re sure it was me?”

“Positive—tall, broad-shouldered, square jaw. The accident obviously did some damage, but you haven’t changed all that much.”

She took a tentative backward step. Was she afraid of him?

“Did I dance with Sophie that night?”

“I told you yesterday. Oh, that’s right—something was wrong with you, and you ran off. You and Sophie never danced. She approached you at the bar, and the two of you talked for a long while.”

“And you’re certain she left the bar first?”

“Definitely. She whispered in your ear, but you didn’t respond to whatever it was she told you, and that’s when she left. She looked annoyed. I figured you turned her down.”

“Turned her down?”

“Oh, come on. You know, turned down her offer for a quick lay. She was one of those girls. Like I said before, that wasn’t her first time coming to the Wild West. She came alone, but she always left with someone.”

He said nothing.

“You really don’t remember—do you?”

He shook his head. “Not a thing.” But then he saw Sophie’s face in his mind’s eye, and he knew that wasn’t completely true.





TWENTY-NINE

“I’m going to take Higgins for a walk,” Jessie told Olivia. She needed to get out, get some air. She didn’t want Olivia to know she was still wound up after thinking she’d lost her.

Olivia waved a hand above her head to let Jessie know she’d heard. She was watching TV and eating a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Maybe you should work on your report.”

Another wave of the hand.

Jessie sighed, grabbed the leash, and called Higgins’s name.

The dog lifted his head and scurried around, his cast slipping on the floor before he finally got to his feet. Less than a week, and the dog already responded to his new name. He didn’t seem to know he had a broken leg, either.

“You’re starting to like me—aren’t you, Higgins?”

Higgins ignored her. He was halfway down the stairs, eager to get to the dog park. Overall, he was a good dog. He never made trouble with other dogs, and as long as she and Olivia kept things put away in the house, he mostly chewed on his rubber toys and bones she’d bought him. As Ben had pointed out, Higgins seemed to have a problem only with dark-haired females. The thought of someone purposely hurting the poor animal broke her heart.

The second her feet hit the pavement, Higgins pulled her along at a good pace. She wondered about Parker Koontz and whether or not he was still in a coma. David Roche had told her he was going to do everything possible to see her in jail. He’d made it clear that she’d messed with the smooth running of his firm. He obviously believed she’d been stalking his partner, too.