Deceit (23 page)

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Authors: Brandilyn Collins

BOOK: Deceit
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“No!” Melissa sprang to her feet. “No, I…Baxter will
kill
me, don’t you see? He’s already tried. Why haven’t you asked more about
that
? He tries to kill two people tonight, and you want to take
me
to jail?”

“At this point I have absolutely no proof of who was chasing you and Joanne.”

“I
know
it was Baxter! Somebody he hired.”

“Maybe we can prove that. We have a better chance if we tie it to Linda’s murder. Baxter killed his wife, and you witnessed it. Then he tried to silence you for your knowledge. Without that tie, what have we got?”

“And what about me until you arrest Baxter?” Melissa demanded. “Who’s going to keep
me
alive?”

“California has a witness-protection program. We’ll take care of you.”

“I’d rather take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t look like that’s worked too well.”

Melissa glared at the DA, shallow-breathing. He raised his eye brows, waiting. Emotions flitted across her face—anger…blame…indignation.

The silence spun out.

From somewhere in the house a clock ticked. Outside a dog barked in the distance. Perry looked at me, gave me the slightest smile of reassurance.

Melissa closed her eyes. Resignation dragged at the sides of her mouth. She pulled her top lip between her teeth. Crossed her arms in a self-hug. Another minute passed before she spoke the words I never thought I’d hear. “If I tell you, how long until Baxter is arrested?”

“We’ll protect you until he is.”

“How long?”

Dan tilted his head. “You can lead us to the body?”

She nodded.

“Were you with Baxter when he buried Linda?”

Another slight nod. “He made me go.”

Perry and I exchanged a look. The mere thought sent chills through my veins. How could Baxter have done that to a teenager? I couldn’t
wait
to see the man behind bars.

Dan surveyed Melissa, then gazed across the room, his expression blending disgust and empathy. It was the mixture that made an effective DA. He possessed passion for bringing criminals to justice without becoming calloused to the plights of witnesses who helped him do so.

“Is Linda’s body in this area?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Dan dipped his chin. “Okay. When we find the remains, which will corroborate your story, he’ll be picked up.”

Which didn’t mean he’d stay in jail. If some expensive attorney managed to get him bail, he’d be back out on the streets until trial. That could take months. Maybe a year, even longer. The thought punched holes in my lungs. I peered down the long days ahead, envisioned the uproar in Vonita, two camps taking sides—including the people of my own church. Saw myself trying to live within the vortex, go to the store, pass people on the street. At least half of them would hate me. How could I even stay in Vonita?

Guilt stabbed me. How could I be thinking of myself while Linda’s body lay out there somewhere, crying to be found?

“How long will that take?” Melissa asked.

“I’ll get a forensics team together first thing in the morning. You lead us to the site, we’ll dig. It’ll take some time to assemble all the bones. Once the dig is done we’ll have to positively identify the body as Linda’s. If we can match dental records, it will take only a day or two. But because of the apparent danger you’re in, I’ll want to get Baxter off the streets as quickly as possible. I’ll push for picking him up before identification.”

Melissa dropped her chin and stared at the floor. Calculations played across her face.

Come on
,
Melissa.

“Could he be arrested as early as tomorrow night?”

“Yes. If you can lead us to the exact site quickly. After six years, maybe you’ve forgotten the spot, and we’ll have to dig here and there to see if we can turn up anything. That could turn into days.”

Melissa shook her head. “I know the exact spot. I haven’t forgotten.” Her voice lowered. “I’ll never forget.”

Dan cast me a look that read he still couldn’t believe this was happening.
Baxter Jackson
. With all the cases Dan had prosecuted, all the dregs of humanity he had seen, this one still seemed to surprise him.

“I’ve worked with a lot of witnesses over the years.” Dan’s tone gentled. “I know the toll that seeing a crime takes on people. We’re the good guys here. We’ll keep you safe and see that justice is done for Linda. You just need to fulfill your part, and I’ll do the rest. Will you do that?”

Melissa rubbed her forehead as if to buff away the unwanted knowledge in her brain. She would not raise her head. A blush grazed her cheeks, her lips thinned in futility. One hand palmed the other, squeezing and relaxing, squeezing, relaxing. In that moment she looked like the girl of sixteen who came to live with Linda and Baxter. The young, damaged girl who so wanted to fit in.

Melissa swallowed. Determination dawned in her expression. She raised her chin and looked the district attorney in the eye. “Okay, I’ll tell you. And I’ll take you to the grave.”

FORTY-FIVE

Melissa’s words echoed in my head.
“I’ll take you to the grave
.” Her defeat, my victory. I wanted to jump up and cheer. I wanted to fall on my knees and thank God. But all energy had left my limbs. I could only stare at her numbly, her purse like an anvil on my lap.

My murdered best friend would have her justice. Linda, who’d lit up a room, even as she lied to the world. To
me
.

“Thank you, Melissa.” Dan stood up. “You’re doing the right thing.”

She lifted a shoulder.

“What happened, Melissa?” My mouth moved of its own accord. “Why did he do it?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. She pressed her lips together, spots of color appearing on her cheeks. “It’s my fault.” Melissa’s voice caught. “If I hadn’t been there, in that house.”

“Melissa.” Dan shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”

Her mouth turned down. She made no reply.

Perry looked at me, sympathy shining in his eyes. It struck me—he knew how much I’d loved Linda. He
understood
.

A sudden violent longing seized my limbs. I wanted Perry’s arms around me. I wanted a man’s comfort, and my husband was gone.

Dan touched Melissa on the shoulder. “I’m going to make a call to the Vonita police, alert them we’re bringing you down for a statement.”

“No!” Melissa’s chin jerked up. “Don’t take me to Vonita! Why can’t I just tell you everything right here?”

“We need to tape and video your statement. I don’t have the equipment here—”


Don’t
take me to Vonita! They won’t listen to me. The chief’s too good a friend of Baxter’s.”

“What about your office, Dan?” I could understand Melissa’s fear of returning to Baxter’s stomping grounds.

Dan thought a minute. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Melissa pushed off the couch. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.” Dan gestured with his chin. “I’ll show you where it is.”

She hesitated. “I’ll need my purse.”

“I’ll need to take the gun out.”

Melissa shrugged.

“Hang on a minute.” Dan left the room and returned with a dish towel and sealable plastic bag. Using the towel he extracted the handgun from Melissa’s purse and slid it into the bag. Sealed it shut.

Melissa watched his every move. “I thought you said you weren’t going to use that against me.”

He faced her. “I won’t. As long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

She cast him a sullen look, as if ticked off that he still didn’t fully trust her. Dan picked up the purse from my lap and handed it to Melissa. “Follow me.”

They left the room, half the air sucking away with them. My lungs felt like bricks. I slumped in the chair, elbow on the armrest, and leaned my head against a fist.

“You did it, Joanne.” Perry spoke in low tones. In the distance I could hear Dan talking to someone on the phone.

I managed a weak smile. “
We
did it. I’d still be stuck in that hotel room if you hadn’t rescued us. Plus you were smart enough to figure out my message.”

“Ah, that was easy. Eagles’
One of These Nights
album, song five.” He chuckled. “ ‘Lyin’ Eyes.’”

“You did great. Just went along with everything.”

“I know you don’t have a brother.”

I lifted my head off my fist. We smiled at each other.

Dan returned. “One of my investigators is going to meet us at my office. We have recording equipment there.” He scratched the side of his face. “Man. Baxter Jackson. If we find that body, this case is gonna be a doozy.”

“And Cherisse’s death,” I reminded him. “If Baxter’s charged with Linda’s murder, they’ll reopen that case, won’t they?”

“Yeah. We’ll have to. I’ll get a second pair of eyes to look at the autopsy findings. And a court order to disinter the body, if necessary.”

I leaned my head back against the armchair. A minute passed in silence, each of us busy with our own musings. I imagined Dan peering down the road, envisioning Baxter’s trial for Linda’s murder, the prosecutorial arguments. Baxter would be sure to hire an expensive attorney. It would be a hard fight.

The thought made me dizzy. I couldn’t go there now.

I needed sleep.

Dan looked toward the entryway. “She’s taking a long time.”

My head came up. He was right. “I’ll go check on her.”

“It’s down that hall to the left.” Dan pointed.

I stood up on rubber legs, crossed the room into the hall. At the bathroom door I knocked. Called Melissa’s name.

No answer.

“Melissa? Melissa.” I knocked harder. “You okay?”

Silence.

My heart stumbled. I slapped both hands on the knob and shook the door. “Melissa!”

Dan and Perry appeared at my side, concern on their faces. “Melissa!” Dan pounded on the door. “Open up!”

No
, I thought.
No.
What had she done to herself?

Perry pushed in. “Melissa.” He rattled the door knob. “Open up right now, or I’m coming in.”

We waited, hardly daring to breathe. Listening for the slightest sound.

Nothing.

Perry raised his eyebrows at Dan. The district attorney nodded.

“Stand back.” Perry positioned himself and kicked the door viciously. It splintered but did not fully give. Chilly air seeped past my shoulders. Perry aimed a second kick. The door shot open. A cold breeze tumbled out.

Perry jumped into the bathroom. Dan and I crowded behind. I saw the toilet and sink—empty.

And an open window, curtains fluttering.

FORTY-SIX

He paced the kitchen, fingers dug into the sides of his scalp. His special cell phone, clipped to his belt, sat maddeningly silent. The last call he’d received on it had sent him on a rampage through the house, alternately cursing and begging God for a break. The sound of his own voice cussing dropped lead into his veins. He never did that. It was beneath a man of his morality.

“I lost them,” the caller had said. “And I got shot.”

“You
what
?”

“I got shot in the leg, man. I got to go to the hospital.”

“Don’t you
dare
leave a trail by going to the hospital. You do that, I’ll find you. I’ll put you away myself.”

“I got a
bullet
in my leg!”

“Better than one in your heart.”

The exchange still buzzed in his head. He’d wanted to reach through the invisible connection and strangle the caller. And if that wasn’t bad enough, his house phone had rung less than an hour later, a taunting voice on the line. A voice that wrenched such hatred through his gut he nearly threw up.

Right now he wanted to hit somebody. He wanted to bellow and scream.

Another curse spit from his lips.

He strode to the sink, filled a glass of water, and guzzled it down.
Pull yourself together
,
man.
This would all still work. He’d figure it out—didn’t he always? Didn’t he
always
come out on top?

The house phone rang.

He swung around and glared at it.

A second ring.

He took a deep breath and walked to the end of the counter. Picked up the receiver to check the ID.

Melissa Harkoff
.

He raised his hand to throw the phone across the room, then caught himself. Maybe he could pull out some inkling of usable information.

With a growl in his throat he hit
talk
. “What makes you think I’m not recording these calls?”

“I’m sure you are, Baxter. Every word.” Melissa sounded out of breath.

“Blackmail’s a crime, in case you didn’t know it. I could take the tapes to the police.”

“Sure you will. Including all the parts in which I talk about you killing Linda.”

“I—”

“Would you like to record where you buried the body? Let me start with instructions on how to get there.”

“Shut up, Melissa.”

“You listen to me.” Melissa’s voice turned acid raw. “Because you’ve got very little time left—”

“I’m not paying you one dime!”

“You don’t have a choice anymore. Your sloppy mess of a killer
missed
, remember? I got him instead, remember that?”

Back to the taunts of her last call, some three and a half hours ago. When she claimed she’d been on the run with Joanne Weeks and had holed up in a hotel bathroom just long enough to “give her favorite hypocrite an update.”

There are plenty more hired killers I can find to hunt you down
,
girl.

“Where are you now? Still with Joanne?”

“Oh, Baxter. Are you sitting down? You won’t
believe
where I’ve just been.”

He wouldn’t dignify her ridicule with a response.

“Joanne took me to the district attorney’s house.”

Yeah
,
right.

“In Joanne’s car?” Baxter knew that couldn’t be true. For the last two hours his hired man had been watching the SUV, traced through the GPS to a hotel in Mountain View.

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