Deceit (25 page)

The night stretched out, long and unknowable.

Sadness bubbled up within me. I leaned over the sink, hands supporting me on either side. Forget finding Melissa, forget bringing Baxter to justice. Forget even skip tracing. I just wanted to crawl into a cave and hide. And sleep.

Dear God
,
please help me. I don’t turn to you enough. But I really need you right now.

Guilt surfaced as soon as the prayer wafted heavenward. Melissa’s cutting words rang in my ears.
“The only difference between you and Linda and Baxter and me is
I
don’t claim to be a Christian.”

In the living room I pulled my cell from my purse and called Dineen.

“
Where
have you
been
?” My sister’s voice thickened with sleep and worry.

“I’m fine. Safe. I’m…working on things. I’ll call you later.”

Perry and Dan joined me. Perry handed me my notebook. I would have left it in Dan’s kitchen. The DA held the plastic bag containing the gun he’d taken from Melissa. “I’ll lead you to the San Jose station in my own car,” he said. “I want to be there for your statement, Joanne.”

“San Jose?”

“The break-in and shooting took place in their jurisdiction.”

Oh. Right.

During the drive, I leaned back against the headrest in Perry’s passenger seat and closed my eyes. The lyrics to “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” sludged through my brain.

“I have a theory,” Perry said. “About why Baxter’s suddenly gunning for Melissa after all these years.”

“Mm. Why’s that?”

“I think she’s blackmailing him.”

My eyes pried open. “Now? After six years?”

“After his second wife died in an ‘accident.’”

I stared at the darkened road, the scenario sifting down inside me.

“But she didn’t even know Cherisse had died.”

“You sure about that?”

I thought back to when Melissa and I had first come face-to-face. “She acted like she didn’t know.”

“If she’s blackmailing him, she surely wouldn’t want
you
to know.”

But then she’d lied to me. Or at least kept important information from me. And she wasn’t just a victim…

Deep inside I sensed Perry was right. But I didn’t want to believe it. If Melissa was blackmailing Baxter, what would that do to her testimony against him?

“Perry.” I closed my eyes again. “You’ve just doubled my need for a Jelly Belly hit.”

At the station, Dan and I gathered in a cramped interrogation room with Officer Harvey Slater, a blond-haired man in his midforties. The room held a single worn table and three chairs. Intimidating and overly hot, permeated with the smell of sweat. Perry cooled his heels in a waiting area. With tape and video running, I related my sordid tale—again—this time starting with my accusations toward Chief Eddington, which ended up in the Vonita weekly paper. Officer Slater and Dan questioned me like pros, dredging up details I’d forgotten to include.

As I spoke, my mind turned toward Melissa. Where was she right now? She couldn’t have wandered far into the night. She would need help. Someone had to come pick her up.

Tony? A girlfriend?

“Obviously Melissa can’t be trusted,” I said at the end of the interview. “What if she doesn’t even know where Linda is buried?”

Although if she didn’t know, why was Baxter after her?

Unless it wasn’t Baxter at all.

My head hurt.

Dan shrugged. “Once we pick her up we’ll find out soon enough what she does and doesn’t know. And we
will
pick her up. Once we get her cell records, all she’s got to do is use that phone.”

I pictured Melissa in Perry’s car, urging me to tell her how to disappear. How much did she know already? “She may be smart enough to know she has to stop using it.”

Dan stood up. “No matter what she knows—we know more. We’ll get her.”

When? Next week? Next month? A year from now? In the meantime, how was I supposed to live? Someone had followed me. Tried to kill me.

My watch read 1:45 a.m.

At the entrance to the station Dan and I met up with Perry. Dan placed his hand on my arm. “Joanne, thank you for all you’ve done. I know you’re exhausted. Go get some sleep. I’ll keep you informed.”

I stared at him. “Sleep where?” I’d done all this for justice, for the police, and now Dan was just turning me loose? “I can’t feel safe in my house. It doesn’t even have an alarm. And I’m not about to lead any trouble to my sister’s home.”

The district attorney inclined his head. “I can put an officer on you. Not sure how long we can keep it up, but hopefully it won’t have to be for long.”

I understood just how much Dan was offering. Personal protection cost money—dollars the county didn’t have.

“No need.” Perry held up a hand. “She can sleep in my guestroom. I’ll watch her. I’ve got a gun.”

Dan managed a wry smile. “Legal?”

“No worries.”

I shook my head. “Perry, I—”

He put warm fingers against my lips. “Hush, Joanne.”

“But—”

“Hey, Dan.” Officer Slater appeared around the corner, phone in his hand. “I got a Mountain View officer on the line, calling from El Camino Hospital. He just brought some guy into the emergency room with a bullet in his thigh.”

I gasped, all thoughts of sleeping at Perry’s house falling away.

“All right.” Dan took the phone from Slater. “Hi, District Attorney Dan Marlahn here. How bad’s the wound? I don’t want him walking out of there.”

He listened.

“What does he say happened?”

Perry and I looked at each other.
Self-inflicted
, he mouthed.
Accident.

“Does it look self-inflicted?”

Perry smiled.

“Okay. Stay with him.
Do not
let him leave. I’ll send somebody to get him. And make sure the doctor gives you the bullet.” Dan hurried to the counter, mouthing to the officer behind it for pen and paper. “What’s the guy’s name?” He wrote, asked a few more questions, and wrote some more. “Great. Thanks.”

Dan handed the paper to the officer. “Run this guy for me.” He gave the phone back to Officer Slater. “We got lucky. This officer, Miles, makes a routine stop for speeding, runs the guy’s name, and finds a slew of unpaid moving violations, plus priors. Guy’s name is Edgar Trovky, from San Jose. Then Miles notices Trovky’s leg bleeding through a bandage. Guy gives some cockamamie story about shooting himself accidentally and how he’s scared of hospitals and doesn’t want to go. Miles doesn’t buy it. He takes Trovky into custody for the unpaids, first stop—emergency room. Then he hears a boatload from the emergency doc about being on the lookout for a guy with a bullet in his thigh.” Dan shook his head. “Sometimes the stars just align right.”

Slater smiled. “Trovky.” He thought a minute. “I think there was a Trovky on some burglary awhile back.”

Dan grunted. “Can you go get this guy? I want to be present for his questioning. The bullet missed anything major. They’ll get it out pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” Slater gestured with his chin toward the other officer. “I’ll just wait for the rap sheet.”

Officer Slater turned out to be right. Edgar Trovky’s priors included jail time for a burglary, plus a couple of assaults. Age forty-eight. Six feet in height and 180 pounds.

The right build for Hooded Man.

“Let me stay,” I blurted to Dan. “I want to hear the interview.”

“I can’t let you in the room.”

“Don’t they have one of those rooms here where I can listen from somewhere else? Watch through a one-way window?” I knew I was pushing, but I didn’t care. No way could I just pack it in for the night now. “Maybe I’ll think of something for you to ask him, based on what he says. Some detail I forgot to tell you.”

Maybe my mind would turn to total mush, and I wouldn’t think of a thing. Maybe this wasn’t even our man.

The district attorney surveyed me.

“Come on, Dan.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

FORTY EIGHT

AUGUST 2004

The hours after dinner dragged on like they would never end. Melissa’s nerves sizzled as she waited for Baxter to get Linda out of the house. But as 7:00 turned into 8:00, and 8:00 to 9:00, with Baxter watching a movie in the den, it became clear he wasn’t going to do anything. Frustrated to the core, Melissa couldn’t stand to look at either Linda or Baxter. She retreated into her bedroom to watch TV. The previous month on one of their shopping sprees, Linda had bought her a flat screen television and her own VCR. Came in handy when she wanted to be by herself.

At 9:30 Melissa went down to the kitchen, telling herself she wanted a soda. She slowed as she passed the den, eyeing the backs of Linda’s and Baxter’s heads. They sat on opposite ends of the couch. How romantic. Melissa wondered if there was an ounce of love left in their marriage.

She opened a cabinet in the kitchen and shut it hard, scooted a chair in closer to the table. Made just enough noise to announce her presence to the adjoining room. As she was pulling a can out of the refrigerator, Baxter wandered in. Melissa caught his eye and raised her shoulders in a silent,
“Well?”
He walked to a cabinet and took out a glass. Stuck it under the freezer’s outer compartment and pushed a button. As ice clinked into the glass he whispered, “Go to bed. I’ll come to you.”

Melissa pulled her head back, eyes widening.

Baxter pushed the button for water and waited until the glass filled. Without another word, without even looking at Melissa, he left the kitchen.

What
was he thinking? Coming to her room at night was crazy. What if Linda woke up? What if she found them together? If Baxter thought his wife would keep quiet about a thing like that, he was too full of himself. Linda was on the edge already. No telling what she’d do. Only sheer stupidity on her part kept her from seeing what was going on under her nose already. Or maybe Linda did sense it on some level but couldn’t bear to
see
. She could only deny. What was one more coat of polish over her rusting life?

Melissa leaned against the counter, head down, her soda forgotten. This train she’d boarded was picking up too much speed. It just might jump the tracks. Then where would she be?

At the same time, the very thought of being with Baxter tonight—with Linda in the house—left her breathless. Just proved how much Baxter wanted her. How much stronger in this triangle she was becoming.

Linda deserved whatever she got.

Melissa picked up the can of soda and headed for her bedroom.

There she took a shower. Put on a pair of pink silk shorty pajamas. She slipped into bed, turned out the lights. Turned the TV on low…and waited.

Ten o’clock ticked to 10:30. Melissa’s eyes focused on the television, seeing nothing. She thought of her future. Maybe she could take a bunch of correspondence courses and get out of high school a year early. Go straight into studying for her real estate license. She could be an agent by eighteen. Make her first million by twenty.

“You’ll never be nuthin’ but trailer trash.”
Her mother’s voice sneered through Melissa’s head.

Yeah, right. Just where was her mother now? And where was Melissa? She ran a hand over her satiny sheets. Living in more luxury than her ignorant mother could have ever dreamed of, that’s where.

The clock read 11:00. About the time Baxter and Linda went to bed.

At midnight Melissa rose for a glass of water. By the light of the television screen, she made her way to the bathroom. She could not begin to think of sleep.

At 12:30 Melissa was sitting straight up in bed, limbs tense. If Baxter didn’t show up she would really let him have it tomorrow. She traced circles on her bedcovers, flipped through TV channels just like Baxter would do. Throwing down the remote, she jumped from bed and paced. On one pass by her desk chair she stopped, toying with the idea of dragging it over to the heater vent in the ceiling to listen. But if Baxter showed up at the wrong moment…

She flung herself back into pacing.

Twelve-forty-five.

Okay, this waiting was getting plain
maddening.
This was exactly why she wanted to make her own way in life. She wouldn’t wait for or on anybody. She’d have a dozen men working for
her
. She’d say “jump” and they’d jump.

Melissa got back into bed. Wouldn’t do for Baxter to catch her walking the floor.
If
the man came at all.

He was probably doing this on purpose. Just to keep her in her place. The thought made her nerves sizzle.

Guess again
,
Baxter
,
who keeps who in place? What do you suppose would happen to you if I told people how you treat your wife?

At 12:50 her door opened without a knock. Just like that. Baxter slipped inside. Beyond him the hall was dark. He closed her door and locked it.

He hurried over to her bed and sat down, eyeing her with supreme satisfaction. “Told you I’d come.”

“Where’s Linda?”

“Asleep.”

“What’s to keep her that way?”

His lips curved in a slow smile. “I insisted she take a sleeping pill because she’s been tossing and turning lately. She’s
out
.”

Melissa gave him a seductive look. “Nice going, Mr. Jackson.” She reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

FORTY-NINE

FEBRUARY 2010

Two-fifty a.m.

A half hour ago Dan had heard from the forensics team that had gone over my car. They found no GPS. They did lift two sets of fingerprints.

Great. Those would be mine and Melissa’s.

Had we read this all wrong?

Edgar Trovky slumped in his chair at the interrogation table, his wounded leg sticking straight out and the other jiggling. His hands laced and unlaced on the worn wood. Dan sat on one side of him, a finger at his upper lip. On the other side Officer Slater leaned forward, arms on the table. From the corner of a room a small camera was running.