The Thief and the Globetrotter

Chapter Twelve: The Admission

Forming a rough plan in the back of his mind served to calm his nerves. It wasn't him demanding cash for Rei. If the police caught that person... well, they wouldn't need to pin the disappearance on Baz. Problems solved.

The simpler he made it sound, the better he felt.

Baz grabbed the last of the things he might need, like his phone charger and a handful of granola bars. He gave Cali a little tuna to make up for disappearing on her.

Then he left once again.

***

Baz hammered at the front door, looking over his shoulder like he may have been followed.

He wasn't. Baz wasn't anyone worthwhile at the moment. Without DNA pointing authorities in the right direction, what would make them look his way? No criminal record followed him. A medical history of painkiller prescriptions wouldn't be enough to declare him a suspect just yet. The more he spun the logic, the more time he felt like he had.

Just not enough time to squander.

Diego swung open the door, taking up almost all of the frame.

"Are you skipping town?" Diego asked, eyes falling on Baz's stuffed backpack and bicycle leaning against the fence.

"I'm kind of in a little trouble," Baz admitted, shrinking in Diego's incredulous, judging gaze, "and I might need a favor or two."

Diego sighed, stepping aside to let Baz in.

Baz had been over plenty. He crashed on the pull-out couch after watching late night international sports and the rare occasions the drank together. He watered Diego's plants when he went away to visit family. Now, he dropped his backpack in the living room.

This was the part he wasn't looking forward to.

"You know that whole escort joke thing?" Baz asked, too edgy to meet Diego's eye.

"Sure," Diego said, attending to the pan sizzling on the stove. Baz settled at the breakfast bar, pulling up a stool.

"I'm not really an escort."

"No kidding," Diego deadpanned. It somehow made the conversation worse.

"I've actually been breaking into mansions in the middle of the night," Baz said.

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious. Somebody gives me the security access and I just... find an open window, usually," Baz insisted. Diego gave him a look.

"You break into rich people's houses?" Diego asked, still more focused on cooking than on Baz's confession.

"Yeah. So, I kind of, stole this thing from Rei Collingwood's apartment the night she disappeared. It's a bit of a problem since they might decide I'm the one who kidnapped her," Baz kept going. Somewhere in the story, it would have to sound so ridiculous that there was no way he could've made the whole thing up. It was too wild.

"The night you climbed down Hillside and made out with Gwen Ferrero?" Diego asked.

"Yes!" Baz pulled out his phone, running the search that might prove at least one aspect of the whole crazy week he'd had. He held the screen up for Diego to see. "Gwen Ferrero."

Diego squinted at the screen before taking the phone and scrolling through the tabloid article.

"Holy hell. I picked out that shirt," Diego said, "you really did make out with a model."

"I kind of slept with her last night, but that's beside the point," Baz shrugged.

Diego blinked. "You really climbed down Hillside, didn't you?"