Boone winced and mouthed, “He’s pissed.”
“She’ll come around,” Baxter said. Tension laced those few words, but he carefully concealed the level of rage my question had obviously invoked. “It’s just a matter of time.”
Hmm, that was interesting.Baxter spoke of Clarissa like she was still alive. He also spoke like he was still alive, so I wasn’t certain if it truly meant anything or not.
If Baxter truly didn’t know Clarissa was dead, I didn’t want to risk upsetting him. Doing so would only harm Boone. Instead I asked, “When was the last time you saw Clarissa?”
I could hear the shrug in Baxter’s voice. “A couple of days ago. I ran into her at the grocery.”
“Lie,” Boone said. “Lie again, and you’ll feel the consequences.”
“What the fuck can you do? I’m already dead.”
“Oh, I think you’ll discover that there are still a lot of ways I can make you suffer. The soul is a fragile thing, Mr. Baxter. While I don’t enjoy inflicting pain upon it, I will if that is the only way to get to the truth. It won’t make me happy, but if you keep lying, I will show you exactly how painful those lies can be.”
I halfway expected Baxter to push it. He struck me as the kind of guy who’d do something like that just to try and prove he wasn’t scared. The sad thing was, his type was always scared. That was the fire fueling their false bravado.
Baxter let loose another huff, quickly followed by a dismissive “whatever.” After a small pause he said, “Fine, I saw her in the coffee shop.”
“Is that the truth?” I asked Boone.
“I get a feeling it’s his truth.” When I just kind of stared at Boone, he waved a hand in the air and answered, “It’s a truthful answer, I just think there’s more to it.”
“Stalking,” Dr. Stowe offered.
My back snapped to attention, all my muscles tensing.
“I wasn’t stalking her,” Baxter protested. “Clarissa needs someone to watch out for her. That’s all I was doing. I was just making sure she wasn’t getting into trouble and that she was safe.”
Boone’s head cocked to the side, and he gave a slow nod. “That’s his truth.”
That was interesting, but not exactly what I needed to know right now. “And was she safe when you saw her?”
“She was working on her computer. Clarissa’s always working on that thing. She’s finishing up her PhD.” A note of reluctant pride filled out those words. “That was the last time I remember seeing her. God, she’s fuckin’ beautiful.”
Boone shifted, looking decidedly uncomfortable. When I placed a hand on his shoulder, his smaller fingers covered mine. “It’s okay. He’s telling the truth, it’s just… It’s an obsessive typeof attraction. I hesitate to call it love, although I’m sure that’s what Clinton would call it. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. I don’t like it.”
Message received. I needed to wrap this up.
“Mr. Baxter, did you do anything to physically harm Clarissa Peyton?”
“Of course not.” Baxter sounded indignant by the mere suggestion. “I would never hurt Clarissa.” That was the thing about obsession, Clinton Baxter didn’t see his actions or the fear he incited in Miss Peyton as harmful.
“Truth,” Boone offered before I could ask.
“God, why would you even think that?” Baxter’s indignation ratcheted up a notch or two and caused Boone to flinch again.
I considered throwing out all the times Miss Peyton had called the police, had filed official reports, and told Clinton Baxter she wanted nothing to do with him. While all those comments would be fact, Baxter would never see it that way. Knowing he hadn’t been the cause of Clarissa Peyton’s death was enough for now.
Clinton Baxter may not have murdered Clarissa Peyton, but I had a nagging feeling their murderer was one and the same. Maybe Baxter knew who killed him. “Mr. Baxter, do you know how you died?”
Another pause before Baxter answered, “It hurt.” His voice was decidedly softer and held a wounded quality. Baxter’s bones rattled before settling again.
Boone rubbed a hand over his chest while wincing. “His chest hurts,” Boone said.
“That makes sense.” Dr. Stowe pointed to the cuts along Baxter’s rib bones. Boone nodded like he understood.
“I’m sorry to ask this, but do you remember any details about the person who did this to you?” I didn’t use the wordmurder. That singular word carried a lot of emotion.
