Deceit: A Novel Part 34

Melissa...a liar, a blackmailer. Now a killer?

A heavy rock sank in my stomach. How much had I misread this girl? Could anything she said or did be trusted?

Did she really even know where Linda's body was?

The thoughts sickened me. I'd gone through too much to catch Melissa and ultimately, Baxter Jackson. If there would be any shred of reliability left in Melissa's testimony against him, I couldn't lose her now.

"You kill me, there goes your information."

"I can start with your hand-how'd you like a bullet there? Or maybe your leg."

She'd do it. She really would. Nausea roiled through me. "I don't think well when I'm in pain."

We glared at each other.

Melissa ran her tongue beneath her top lip. "We're going to go to your computer. You're going to type out each step for me. Print it."

"How'd you get in here?"

"Broke the gla.s.s to your back garage door. Now get up."

Gla.s.s? I hadn't heard a thing. And I hadn't seen a car. How'd she get to my house? She must have parked on a side road and been waiting for my return. Maybe for hours.

"Get up, Joanne."

I pushed off the bed. My legs nearly gave way. I clutched the headboard, steadied myself.

"Go to your office."

Melissa backed up, giving me room to walk past her.

I eyed the gun. "That another one of Tony's? Did he bring you here?"

Anger pinched her face. "I'm the one wanting information. Go."

My chin raised. I walked by her and out the bedroom door. Up the hall, into my work s.p.a.ce. I sat in my swivel chair, flicked on the computer. "It'll take time to boot up. No need to threaten it with a bullet too."

Melissa snarled.

I stared at the monitor, my head still thick. Logic moved through it slowly. As far as Melissa knew, her timing was perfect. From here she'd go to the drop-off location. Get away with the money-for good.

Except that the money would never arrive.

My screen blipped on. Windows came up.

Sudden realization burned my head. What was to keep me from calling the police as soon as Melissa left?

She was lying. Again.

Melissa Harkoff would get her much-needed information. And then she would kill me.

FIFTY-EIGHT.

AUGUST 2004.

"We have to get rid of the evidence."

Melissa hesitated only a second before hurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When she hit the upper level she stopped, listening. All the TV crime shows she'd watched over the years chugged through her mind. On her left lay the master bedroom, lights on, its door wide open. Way down the hall, past two guest bedrooms and a shared bath, was her suite.

From downstairs rose the faint sound of the door between the kitchen and garage, opening and closing.

Melissa veered left.

Heart clutching, she ran across the master bedroom and into the huge bath area. Her frantic gaze sc.r.a.ped over the counter, taking in lotion bottles, a mirror, hairspray. Linda's stuff.

Heat rose in Melissa's body. If Baxter caught her here, all pretense would be off. No telling what he'd do.

Melissa yanked open a drawer. Inside it lay a man's black comb.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and examined it. A few dark hairs stuck in the teeth. Perfect. She ripped off toilet paper, wrapped the comb in it, and stuck it in the waistband of her shorty pajamas.

Melissa sprinted to her room. She threw on jeans, a dark sweatshirt with zippered pockets. Shoved her feet into a pair of Vans sneakers. The wrapped comb went into her right pocket. Melissa zipped it up and ran downstairs.

In the kitchen Baxter was spreading an old blanket beside Linda's body. The butcher knife was back in its holder.

"Did you wash it?" She pointed to the knife.

"No."

Melissa slid it out, examined it. Looked clean. She rinsed it off anyway before replacing it.

Baxter knelt near Linda's head. "Help me get her onto the blanket."

Melissa sank down by Linda's feet. Together they rolled the body onto the blanket about two feet from the edge. They both took one side of the thick fabric and folded it over Linda. Then they rolled her again, wrapping like a bulky coc.o.o.n until all the blanket was used up. Both the top and bottom had six inches of extra material.

A puddle of blood stained the floor where Linda had lain. "I'll clean it." Melissa stood up.

"Use paper towels. We'll need to take them out with us."

Baxter walked over to prop open the door into the garage. Then he disappeared out of the kitchen. Melissa heard the click of a car trunk opening.

She fetched a plastic grocery bag and the paper towel holder from the counter. She wiped up the blood, putting the towels in the bag. Then she wet more towels, sprayed the area with a kitchen cleaner, and rubbed and rubbed. Baxter reappeared. He watched as she got down on her knees and examined the baseboards around where Linda had fallen. When Melissa was satisfied, she put the cleaner away and stuffed all the used paper towels into the bag. She returned the paper towel holder to the counter.

They peered around the kitchen. Everything looked in place.

Except for the body on the floor.

Baxter rubbed sweat from his forehead. "She'll be heavy."

Melissa nodded.

Once more she moved to Linda's feet and Baxter to her head. He leaned down, bunched the extra blanket, and picked up his end. Melissa did the same. Together they raised Linda just off the floor, hammock-style. With awkward steps they made for the garage, Baxter traipsing backward and looking over his shoulder. The wrapped body swayed between them. Twice Melissa nearly lost her grip. She gritted her teeth, her body aching where Baxter had punched and kicked her.

They made it over the threshold into the garage. Baxter sidestepped to his right to head down the length of Linda's BMW. He rounded the rear b.u.mper, leaving room for Melissa to make the corner. They lined up even with the trunk.

"Okay." Baxter was breathing hard. "Count of three, we lift. One, two, three."

They heaved the body up and over the lip. It fell into the trunk with a thud. The foot end curved up the side of the car too high for the lid to close.

Baxter stood back and stared at it blankly, as if all logic had just drained from his head. Melissa nudged him aside. "Here." She shoved Linda's feet down, bending the body at the knees. Thumped the trunk shut.

She surveyed Baxter. His face had gone pasty. She couldn't let him change his mind now. "We'll need a flashlight. And you need water."

He nodded, no argument left in him.

Melissa headed back into the kitchen. She returned with the flashlight, water bottle, and the plastic bag full of b.l.o.o.d.y paper towels. Baxter was standing beside his Mercedes, the door open. "We'll take both cars," he said. "Leave Linda's somewhere on the way back."

Great. Melissa got to drive the one full of incriminating evidence. "What's our story?"

"She went out and never came back. I'll work out details on the way."

"You know where you're going?"

"Yeah."

"Should we take cell phones in case we get separated?"

"No. Cell calls leave evidence. Just don't lose me."

"What about a shovel?"

"I put two in your trunk."

Melissa licked her lips, thinking. "Shouldn't we take her cell phone and purse? If she went somewhere, she'd have them with her."

Fear flicked across Baxter's face, as if he gazed down the long gauntlet of the future and knew he could not foresee all the possible dangers. "Go get them. On her dresser."

Melissa gave Baxter the water bottle and put the flashlight and plastic bag in the back seat of the BMW. She scurried out of the garage, through the kitchen, and up the stairs. Spotting Linda's tote Coach handbag in the master bedroom, she ran to it and peered inside. The cell phone sat in a side pocket. Melissa hurried into the bathroom and s.n.a.t.c.hed two washcloths from the floor-to-ceiling cabinet. Back at the dresser, she used one of the washcloths to pull out the cell without touching it. The phone was off. Melissa slid it back into the pocket, then laid the cloth across the handles of the purse to pick it up.

In the garage Baxter was leaning against the hood of his car, deep in thought. Melissa could see his shock had once more pa.s.sed. Cunning had returned.

She put Linda's purse on the floor of the BMW's pa.s.senger seat. Placed the washcloths beside it. She pointed to them. "To wipe down the car."

Baxter grunted.

Melissa took a deep breath. "Anything else we've forgotten?"

"Sanity."

Their eyes locked. Baxter's were flat and dark. Unreadable.

Melissa lifted her hands. "Let's go."

She slid inside the BMW. The keys lay in the center console, where Linda always kept them. Melissa started the engine. The clock read 2:05 a.m. Could that be possible? Only half an hour ago she and Baxter had been in her bed. Linda had been alive.

Dread curled through Melissa's stomach. She turned her head toward Baxter, thinking, Now what? Her life here, her plans had just disintegrated. When Linda didn't return, Melissa couldn't imagine social services letting her stay in this house alone with Baxter.

What then?

She couldn't leave Baxter. Couldn't leave her job. And she sure wasn't about to go to some other foster home.

Maybe Baxter would find her a place to live in town. She could still work with him. She could steal over at night to be with him...

The grating sound of Baxter's garage door opening jerked Melissa from her thoughts.

Melissa blinked. She would be okay. She would survive this. Do whatever needed to be done.

She hit the remote b.u.t.ton. Her garage door jolted into an upward slide.

Baxter pulled out first. Bearing Linda's body in the trunk, Melissa followed him into the tenuous night.

FIFTY-NINE.

FEBRUARY 2010.

Five feet away from me, Melissa stood with her feet apart, back straight. Her gun aimed at my head.

My heart skidded. All I could do right now was meet her demand. Buy some time. I would think of...something.

A voice at the very core of me whispered I was fooling myself.

In grim succession I saw the future play out. Melissa pulling the trigger. Getting away, staying hidden with the information she'd yanked from me. With the loss of both potential victims as witnesses, Baxter's high-priced lawyer would somehow manage to get the solicitation of murder charges dropped.