Chapter Six #2
Sometimes I wondered if she had caffeine running through her veins instead of blood.
Even over the past couple years, when she was feeling especially beaten down by the world and her art career wasn’t progressing the way she hoped, she didn’t fold inward like I did.
She burned brighter. Fiercer. I look at Mrs Baughman, lying there so still – just a shell.
It’s impossible to imagine Zoe snuffed out like that.
The family goodbyes culminate with Mrs Baughman’s husband, who presses kisses to her forehead, mussing her hair a bit.
I’m teary-eyed myself as I pull the sheet over this old woman I’ve never met. As Devin and I maneuver the gurney through the apartment, the family follows in a silent parade.
At the door, I say, ‘Why don’t we take it from here,’ and to my relief, after a chorus of goodbyes, they close the door behind us. Phew. At least we won’t have an audience for this next part.
‘We’ll detach the stretcher and come back for the wheels,’ says Devin, and I give him a brisk nod. Let’s do this.
*
I sag against the vehicle as soon as the doors are closed and massage my left shoulder while Devin runs back inside to retrieve the gurney. We survived the vertical journey with only one light bang and a couple violent jostles. Still, I’m sweating like a pig.
As the adrenaline wears off, exhaustion rolls through me.
Once Devin comes back, he lights a cigarette and offers me one.
‘Thanks but no thanks,’ I say, pleased at this turn of events. A smoke break is the perfect chance to get him talking. I search around for a subject matter to get things rolling that won’t sound too forced. ‘So. You like this line of work?’
‘“Like?” I don’t know.’ He squints at the van, like he’s looking with X-ray vision at Mrs Baughman inside.
‘Tolerate?’ I hazard.
The shadow of a grin darkens his lips. ‘I mean, a job’s a job. I’d prefer to be a millionaire. But since the bills keep coming, I guess I don’t mind death like other people do.’
‘Why do you think that is?’ I say, trying to keep my tone chummy. ‘If you don’t mind me asking …’
He shrugs, tucks a finger behind the knot of his tie and tugs it loose.
‘I was really scared of death as a kid. So I guess I did exposure therapy on myself? I watched all the horror movies, read all the horror books. I dropped out of school senior year and got a job in landscaping at a cemetery. Then, this job came up, and I’ve been here ever since.
Yeah, death is scary. But I’m used to confronting that. ’ He takes a drag.
‘Oh, OK. Cool.’ Actually, I’m kind of impressed with his answer. Though perhaps his deathly inclinations should make him seem more suspicious, somehow they make him seem less. There’s a strange gentleness to him under his hard exterior. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Ask away.’
‘There was an employee at the funeral home before my time. Zoe. Did you know her well?’
He doesn’t react in any visible way, but he does take an even longer drag, like he’s trying to delay his response.
‘I know she disappeared,’ he finally says. ‘Fucking tragic. Great girl.’
Does this seem like the reaction of a serial killer?
‘Yeah, tragic,’ I echo. ‘Do you have any idea what happened?’
His eyes narrow. ‘Did you know her?’
‘Someone at Anderson’s mentioned her,’ I demur. ‘I was just curious if you’ve heard anything?’
‘She worked reception. I’m in the crematory.’ He taps the cigarette, scattering ash. ‘Zoe’s a people person, you know? I’m not. Oil and water. You get me?’
Tingles move up my spine. He just used the present tense and it’s weirding me out, because he also just said her disappearance was ‘fucking tragic,’ which I assumed meant he thought she was dead. A slip? Or does he know something?
‘I just wonder, you know?’ I press. ‘What happened.’
Devin levels his gaze at me. ‘I think we can both cut the bullshit. I know you’re her roommate.’
Damn. OK. Did not expect that. I lick my lips.
‘Yeah … I was her roommate. But if we’re laying our cards on the table, you weren’t oil and water. I know you were friends.’
He smiles grimly. ‘Fine. You got me. For the record, our personalities are really different. But we got along.’
‘You had lunch the day she disappeared.’
He hesitates. ‘Yeah. We did.’
‘Did she talk about the guy she was going out with that night?’
He tilts his head and takes a long drag before speaking, then says, ‘If you don’t mind me being blunt, I gather from your questions that you think she’s dead.
I disagree. She was unhappy in her situation.
She wanted to move, get away from the area.
So I think it’s reasonable to assume that’s what she did. ’
‘Unhappy in her “situation?”’ This is news to me. ‘What does that mean?’
His mouth turns up, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘That was just her. Restless, you know? On guard, on the move. Never easy in her own skin.’ He pauses. ‘Angry.’
My stomach churns. It doesn’t feel good to hear Devin’s take on Zoe. On guard? Never easy in her skin? She was the most confident person I knew! Though it’s not like it was always sunshine and rainbows …
A memory rolls over me, from a couple years ago.
Zoe coming back home with her portfolio from a day of gallery outreach, looking defeated.
I didn’t have to ask to know she’d been rejected.
Again. At first, she sank into the couch and glowered.
But by the time I brought her a beer, she turned a dazzling smile on me, like she’d flipped a switch.
‘Fuck these art snobs, right? I just have to make a piece so brilliant, they can’t say no. ’
She got that tattoo shortly after. ‘Live Free or Die.’ ‘This is it,’ she said to me as she unwrapped it, the script curling up her ankle. ‘This is what I’m living by, Margot. I won’t let anyone keep me down. I’d rather be dead.’ Now it seems ominous. Prophetic.
And then it hits me – the potential connection between Liam and Zoe.
The gallery! Of course. I already know that’s where Liam met Arjun.
What if he’d met Zoe there previously? Maybe they talked and he shared he was dipping into art collecting.
Maybe Zoe smelled money, and tried to convince him to buy one of her pieces, but it turned out he was more interested in her body than her art.
Liam is obviously a player. And it’s not hard to imagine how angry Zoe might have been when she caught on to his angle.
How things might have gone tremendously south from there.
But I’m getting sidetracked. I need to drill down on what Devin knows about her last date.
‘So, back to the guy she went out with on the day she disappeared. Did she mention him to you?’
‘Uh … maybe?’ Devin takes a final short drag, then throws down the cigarette butt.
‘What about his name? Was it by chance – Liam?’ For some reason, my heart is pounding. I can’t tell if I want him to say yes or no.
Devin’s eyes squint. ‘Maybe? That name does ring a bell …’
My heartbeat ratchets up. This could be it.
‘Did she mention anything else about him?’
He shakes his head. ‘Can’t remember. But I still think you’re jumping to conclusions.
Maybe she just wanted to reinvent herself.
People do that. I imagine there are plenty of people in my hometown who figure I’m dead too.
’ He crushes the cigarette butt with the toe of his shoe.
‘We should get going. But let me give you some unsolicited advice.’
‘OK …’
He skewers me with his gaze. ‘If you really think something bad happened to Zoe, and this Liam character was involved, stay away.’ He jerks his thumb to the van where Mrs Baughman now lies.
‘Everyone ends up here eventually. It’s just a matter of time.
You should stay alive, as long as you can.
Don’t go looking for trouble. Be smart.’
My blood is suddenly boiling.
We get into the van and start the drive back to the funeral home. Devin plays his loud music again and I look out the window and seethe.
Don’t go looking for trouble? Fuck that! I’m looking for justice. For Zoe. Zoe wasn’t looking for trouble either. She just didn’t want to be put down any more. She was looking for freedom.
And stay away from Liam? Hah. What I need to do is the opposite. Get closer to Liam. Figure out what his game is and what he did to my friend. As soon as possible.
But where to start? I could get Liam’s number from Arjun and see if I can get a second date …
Or I could go back to Wine & Thistle first and ask some questions.
Starting with our server Alex. I still think it’s a reasonable theory that Alex is colluding with Liam, helping him get women nice and drunk.
As soon as Devin pulls into the parking lot behind the funeral home, I tell him I need to step aside and take a call.
I hop out and move to the far side of the parking lot, with enough distance that Devin can’t overhear me, and dial the restaurant.
‘Wine & Thistle, can I help you?’
‘Hi, I was wondering if Alex is working tonight?’
‘May I ask who’s calling?’
‘Oh … Alex is my favorite server. I was just wondering.’
‘Let me check the schedule …’ There’s some rustling. ‘Yes, he’s on tonight. Would you like to make a reservation?’
‘Sure. Do you have openings at six thirty?’
‘Yes. How many in your party?’
‘Party of one.’
‘Great! What name?’
I pause and look at Devin, who’s setting up the gurney. ‘Dawson. Zoe Dawson.’