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He gives us a proud smile as he begins his explanation, and I can’t help but feel he has good news. “That was the tricky part,” Andrews starts. “The evidence you supplied was helpful, but not quite enough to make anything stick, as you would know. However, his receptionist, Aimee, had some holes in her story, mainly regarding Baxter’s alibi. It never seemed to quite match up, so we got her into interrogation and she admitted she lied. That left Baxter with no alibi for all three occasions,” he tells us.
“So, you were able to place him at the locations?” Sophie asks.
“Sure were. Once there was enough reasonable doubt, we were able to get a warrant for the security footage of the night Marco Cincinnati died at the brothel. The footage showed Baxter at the site, paying off the security guard who disabled the cameras. However, he failed to disable the camcorder feeds in the private rooms, probably because he didn’t know they existed. Baxter was seen an hour before Marco’s death, handing a stash of drugs and cash to a sex worker before disappearing. The footage then shows the same woman pumping Marco full of drugs all night long. Even if there wasn’t such a large array of drugs involved, the sheer quantity was enough to kill him.”
“Holy shit,” I grunt as I turn to Sophie. “You were right. You got him.”
She beams back at me. “Aren’t I always right?” she questions with a smug grin, something I’ve missed seeing from her over the past few months.
“Not even close,” I laugh.
Andrews clears his throat to gain our attention, and we reluctantly turn back to him. “With further digging, we’ve managed to get him on all three murders. Same MO: cutting security feeds and sneaking onto the premises,” he tells us. “So, I guess it was all worth it in the end.”
“Worth it?” I spit in shock, unable to believe what just came out of the fucker’s mouth. “Baxter took our child from us. Killed him while he was still inside my wife’s womb. How the hell could it be all worth it?”
Andrews blanches for a moment before accepting his error. “I apologize. I was not thinking. Of course, it could not possibly make up for your loss,” he says, fixing Sophie with a look of pure regret.
She nods her head, accepting his apology and letting me know she isn’t going to dwell on his comment. “So, you have a warrant for his arrest?” Sophie asks, moving on.
He nods his head. “Just about. The paperwork is being put together now and will be on its way to a judge later today.”
“Perfect,” Sophie says in a quiet voice, deep within her own thoughts before turning to me. “It’s over.”
“It sure is, baby,” I tell her as we get up and make our way out of the police station. I can’t help but notice how Sophie walks with her shoulders held a little higher. It’s as if all her worries have finally disappeared. She’s her old self again, and I couldn’t be prouder. She’s come full circle.
Yes, we’re missing one, massive, important part of our lives that we’ll have to live without until our dying days, but with the knowledge he’s in a better place, it makes it that much easier.
Our shining star watching over us, and Sophie’s guardian angel.
I kick over the ignition and look at my wife. “I love you,” I tell her as she reaches across the center console and takes my hand.
“I love you, too,” she says with the most dazzling smile that takes my breath away.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” I tell her.
“I know, me too. It’s going to be one hell of a wild night after the shit Crazy Jill put me through. Maybe I deserve more than just one naked cooking night. Let’s make it a weeklong thing,” she grins.
I roll my eyes as I pull out into the traffic. “You got yourself a deal, babe.”
“Excellent,” she laughs before turning to me, a guilty as fuck grin stretching across her lips. “So . . . I know you’re probably in shit with Coach Larsden, but could you drop me off at Frisky Framing? I need my car.”
I let out a deep breath. I couldn’t possibly get in any more trouble than I’m already in. “Sure, babe.”
“Thanks, big guy,” she says with a wink before leaning forward and turning up the music.
It’s game night, and my boys are just as pumped as I am. We all shuffle around each other in the locker room, taking practice shots at the target that’s been painted on the wall as we wait for one of the officials to give us the go-ahead.
As usual, I line up my shot just perfectly and watch as it sails straight into the center of the target. I turn and give Miller a smirk as if to say beat that and he scoffs as he lines up his shot. His stick rears back before flying forward and the puck sails through the air with incredible speed, and as usual, it finds its mark, except it’s just a smidge off-center.
