Deceit (30 page)

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 bumper, 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 bloody 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 snatched 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 passed. Cunning had returned.

She put Linda’s purse on the floor of the BMW’s passenger 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 button. 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.

And Baxter Jackson would never be prosecuted for Linda’s death.

I brought up Word. It opened a new document.

Ironic, wasn’t it? I had lived to find people. Now I would die helping one disappear.

Melissa’s breaths came short and quick. I could feel the angst rolling off her. She wanted to be gone. “Tell me as you type,” she demanded.

My throat had run dry. I thought of Perry, wondered how he could work all day without sleep. Of Dineen and Jimmy. Baxter now in jail. Was he talking to Dan and Slater? Or had he already called an attorney?

The world was revolving around me. While I sat with a gun to my head.

Dan’s words echoed.
“I’ll get a court order for her cell records. If she uses that phone we’ll locate her.”

If I did one last thing on this earth, it would be to ensure that Melissa
would
be found.

“You can’t maintain a regular address or phone number.” I keyed in the words as I spoke. My voice sounded hoarse. “Those are things we use to track people.”

“So I move all the time?”

“You keep virtual, even as you live in one place. You leave no correct trail. You leave many false ones. That will send your pursuers looking in all the wrong directions.”

I glanced at Melissa—and saw the gleam in her eyes. Already she pictured herself with $300,000, living as she wanted, doing what she wanted. Disgust and revenge bit my nerves. “You love this, don’t you?”

She gave me a smile that turned my stomach.

Just wait till you learn that money will never come.

I typed “Bills” as the first heading. “Rent post office boxes in numerous states. Spread your bills out between them. Then call the companies every month for your balances and pay them. Tell each biller they have the wrong Social Security number on file and give them a wrong one. Give them new phone numbers.”

“For false trails?”

“Yes.”

I labeled another heading “Internet.” “Make sure your only email address is a Yahoo or Hotmail. Don’t search the Internet from your home computer. Go to an Internet café or library.”

I could feel sweat pop out on my forehead. My arms started to shake. Fear and lack of sleep turned my body to wax.

“What else?” Her voice edged, her eyes flicking to my clock.

Long minutes ticked by until I lost track of time. I told Melissa how to open a corporation in the state of her choice, using a certain kind of address. Then open a bank account using the corporation information. Following that, open a corporation in Canada. I typed out the details, my insides churning into jelly. My fingers slipped on keys, and my eyes began to burn.

“Come
on
!” Melissa stomped closer, menacing with her weapon.

I swallowed hard. Tried to collect my melting thoughts.

“Don’t continue anything like magazine subscriptions. Pay for all plane tickets with cash. Don’t get any type of service, like cable, under your name. Use your foreign corporation.”

“What about phone calls?”

“Once you leave don’t call people you know from here. Cut your ties.”

“I don’t have any ties that matter.”

Here is where I should tell her about prepaid phones. That she should not make one more call from her current phone. That she should turn it on and leave it somewhere, drawing the police to the wrong location.

Spots began to dance before my eyes. I slumped back against my chair.

“Keep going!”

“I’ve been up for two days.” The words ground like tires over gravel.

“I don’t
care
.”

What little energy I had left burst into rage. I could feel the surge, the white hotness. But my limbs would not respond. The rage flamed and died, leaving me empty. Too tired to care.

So what if she killed me? So what? I’d be in heaven with Tom.

“Joanne, talk!”

The words bounced off my numb body. Then, from a place unknown, one last remnant of fight seeped into my soul. I opened my mouth to taunt Melissa with the truth. That Baxter had been arrested, and her blackmail plans had burnt to ashes. She would have no money to run with. And nowhere to go.

“Melissa—”

An unseen hand snatched the words from my tongue. If I told her, she wouldn’t show up at the drop-off location, wouldn’t be caught today.

“
Talk
!” Melissa smashed her gun into the back of my head.

Pain shot through my skull. I cried out. Lurched forward.

Melissa moved behind me. The gun barrel pushed against the base of my head. “How do I use a phone and not be traced?” The words staccatoed from her mouth, hard and acidic.

My brain throbbed. I couldn’t see.

“Tell me!”

My fingers gripped the desk, my teeth gritted. This girl was
evil
. “Do you even…really know where Linda is buried?”

Melissa shoved the gun barrel harder against my head. “
Tell
me about the cell phone!”

My mouth hung open. I dragged in air. “I want Baxter…to pay.”

Melissa yelled a curse. Her left hand grabbed my shoulder and shook until my body rattled in the chair. “Guess what, Miss
Lying Christian
.” Her words spat through clenched teeth. “You want to know the truth? Baxter didn’t kill Linda.
I
did. She caught us in bed and went after Baxter with a knife. I stabbed her first. And you know what?” Melissa spun my chair around, grasped my jaw, and squeezed hard. She stuck her face into mine. “I didn’t
care
.” Melissa shoved my head to one side and drew back. “And I won’t care when I kill you either.”

I stared at her, eyes half mast. I couldn’t think, couldn’t process what she said…

Melissa
killed Linda?

Melissa jerked my chair around to face the computer. My eyes could barely make out the document.

“Tell me about my cell phone!”

Melissa
killed Linda?

“Tell me
now
!”

This girl
killed Linda. My best friend.

I licked my dry lips.

“Jo-
anne
—”

“Use your cell…until your next bill.” I didn’t even try to type. Couldn’t. “Then toss it. Get a…prepaid phone. Switch to a…new prepaid…every month.”

“Police can’t trace this cell phone?”

Pain spread needle wings, swept through my body. “They can trace…your number…to the address on the account…but you’ll…be gone.”

“Can’t they trace my location with the cell?”

I forced a sick laugh. “Only in the m-movies.”

“You’re
lying
.”

“No. Not.”

“You
are
!”

She hit me again with the butt of her gun. My head exploded.

Darkened.

I listed to my right side.

“Print out what you’ve got, Joanne! Print it now!”

My arms wobbled. Were those my fingers? My failing eyes found Control P. Somehow I hit the keys. My printer whirred into action.

Melissa killed Linda. I couldn’t…let her get away…

I hit Control S. Had to save the file for evidence. The little box appeared, using the beginning words I’d typed as the file’s default name under “My Documents.” I clicked
Save
.

Paper rolled out from the printer.

One sheet.

Two.

Melissa leaned around me to snatch them up.

My arm jerked out and smashed into her left wrist.

She cursed and scrabbled for the document. I elbowed her hard in the shoulder. Melissa fell to her right, toward the window. The weapon slipped from her hand. Clattered to the floor.

Dizziness swirled over me in a smothering blanket.
“Run!”
my brain shrieked.
“Hit her again!
” But I could do nothing.

The world dimmed. Melissa snapped down toward the gun. I struggled to raise my arms, fight her away. But the motion sprayed me with nausea.

The office tilted.

Melissa rose, gun aimed at my chest. I collapsed to my left, rolled off the chair into empty space.

A shot cracked the air.

Monster teeth tore through my body, long and sharp and hungry.

I smashed into the floor—and blackness.

SIXTY

AUGUST 2004

Stiff-backed, Melissa hurtled through the night, following the demon-eyed glow of Baxter’s taillights. They took back roads out of Vonita and west across 101. Baxter was apparently headed toward the woods that spilled toward the coast.

His comb still lay in Melissa’s zipped-up sweatshirt pocket.

Melissa’s mind churned through sequences and lies. When would she and Baxter “discover” Linda was missing? What time had they last seen her? Where had she said she was going? Melissa imagined Chief Eddington’s narrowed eyes as he grilled her, his suspicious tone.