Deceit (22 page)

He snorted. “They’d better pick up fast. Linda’s going to break me.”

“We’re not shopping anymore. I told her I have enough clothes.”

He swung around in his chair and surveyed Melissa under lowered brows. “Newsflash—she’s not waiting for you. What do you think she does all day?”

Melissa’s jaw loosened. “Why don’t you tell her to stop?”

“Because it keeps her busy and her mouth shut.” He shrugged. “Besides, she…needs it. Makes her feel better.”

Ah, the guilt again.

“Yeah, well, you need less bills.”

“The money will come, Melissa. Sales will pick up, like you said.”

How fast he changed his tune.

“But you’re right.” His expression twisted into a half tease. “I’d be better off financially without her.” His voice dropped into a mumble. “Not to mention her life insurance.”

“What?” Melissa eyed him with indignant surprise. “What’d you say?”

He waved a hand in the air. “Nothing. Just a bad joke.” He rotated toward his desk, ending the conversation. Melissa surveyed his back for a long moment before returning to her work.

Every day—the tension and desire. The tightrope walk. Baxter’s inner demons.

In church on Sundays Melissa sat next to Linda (she didn’t dare sit next to Baxter) and listened to the sermons about living a Christian life in the twenty-first century. Linda would nod and Baxter mutter his
amens
. Talk about a disconnect. Those hours in church formed Melissa’s most confusing moments. Pastor Steve’s words pierced her soul more than once. He spoke of Jesus’ love, his forgiveness, his burning desire to set each person free of the past, no matter how bad it might be. There were times when Melissa yearned for that cleansing with aching intensity. The pastor’s promises of wholeness, of a new and stunning
purpose
that no circumstances could take away shone upon the wreckage of Melissa’s life like a beacon in roiling dark waters. But every time, the Jacksons’ secrets would roll over her and drown the ache inside. They amened and nodded at the pastor’s every point. They projected everything the pastor talked about.

All lies.

How could Melissa stake her life on any of the pastor’s claims, no matter how bright they seemed, when she knew the truth about Baxter and Linda?

Sometimes Melissa wondered which one was the bigger hypocrite—the wife-beater or the one who covered it up? And how strange that Baxter should suddenly develop a conscience when it came to sleeping with Melissa. Why the remorse over cheating on his wife when he felt none about mistreating her in other ways?

Melissa knew one thing—it never feels good to face your own guilt. Much better to channel the energy into something else. Baxter practiced what he did best and took it out on Linda—worse than ever. He hit her almost every day now, the slightest
anything
from her setting him off. She spoke too loud, she spoke too soft. The meat was overcooked, the vegetables undercooked. She smiled too much, she smiled too little. Linda withdrew into a dazed and brittle shell. Alone with Melissa she cried,
“Why?”
Melissa gritted her teeth and comforted Linda, cursing the woman and her husband both. Linda was a wimp, Baxter too hot-headed. One of these days either one of them was bound to do something really, really stupid. And Melissa would find herself out on the street.

“You’ve got to lay off Linda,” Melissa accosted Baxter as they drove home one day. He hunched over the wheel, hard-eyed and tight-jawed. Melissa didn’t care that he was in a foul mood. The man needed to get hold of himself.

“Don’t tell me how to treat my wife.”

“Baxter, one day you’re going to hit her too hard, and she’ll really be hurt. Have some bruise she can’t hide. Then what?”

“I said lay off.”

Melissa pressed back in her seat, air pushing from her mouth. She made a face at the road. Sometimes this man could be so knuckle-headed. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but—”

“Sure sounds like it to me.”

“Well, what do you
want
, Baxter? You want her telling her friends at church?”

“She’ll never do that.”

“Don’t be so sure. Linda’s a volcano waiting to erupt. The right moment with the right friend asking what’s wrong with her lately, and she’ll blow.”

“Melissa.
Shut up
.”

“
Don’t
tell me to shut up! That’s the way you talk to Linda, not me.”

They hit a red light. Baxter braked hard, jerking Melissa’s body against her seatbelt. He turned on her, his expression black as coal. “You listen to me. Nobody tells me what to do in my own house.” His finger pointed at her, stiff and thrusting at air. “You’re just a sixteen-year-old kid without a home. I let you in mine, and I can kick you out tomorrow. Got that?”

Shock and pain spun through Melissa. She stared at Baxter, open-mouthed. Speechless.

He swiveled back to glare at the stoplight, fingers drumming a mad beat on the steering wheel.

Fine
,
then
.
Act like a two-year-old.

The silence in the car pricked.

A minute later they turned a corner. Far ahead the Jackson mansion came into view. The moment she’d first seen it flashed in Melissa’s mind. Had that really been just two months ago? Seemed like a lifetime.

She would not lose this house. This life. Baxter.

Just a sixteen-year-old kid
. Oh, really. In some ways she knew more than Baxter Jackson. At least she wasn’t lying to herself.

The driveway approached. They had little time left. Like a wind goddess Melissa swept around inside her body and gathered her whirling emotions. Shoved them down into a hole.

“You won’t kick me out, Baxter.” Her voice shifted low and soothing. She stretched her hand across the seat and grazed his thigh. “I’m on your side, remember?”

He threw her a look, not quite so dark. Melissa’s hand pressed against his leg. He shook his head as if in defeat, air seeping from his throat. Slowly his right hand found hers and squeezed.

“It’s been too long.” He turned into the graceful driveway.

Melissa flicked a look at the windows and pulled her hand into her lap. “I think Linda’s done having church meetings for a while.”

“We have to find another way.”

Melissa gazed at the front porch. The beautiful carved wood door that symbolized entrance into the splendid and shining Jack-son world. “You have any ideas?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“When?”

His expression turned smug. “Tonight.”

FORTY-FOUR

FEBRUARY 2010

“Hey!” Melissa launched off the couch and lunged for her purse. Perry clutched it to his chest and twisted away from her. She screamed a curse and swerved around him, hands scrabbling for it. He jerked away again and bent over it. Melissa pummeled his back with her fist.

“Melissa, stop!” I jumped up.

Dan was on his feet, head swiveling from me to Melissa. “What’s going on?”

“She has a gun in there.”

Dan strode to Melissa, grabbed her arms, and pulled her away from Perry. She turned on him like a banshee, arms and legs flying. Dan fought to hold her off. Perry turned to help, still holding the purse. I ran to take it from him. He pivoted toward Melissa, captured her from behind in a bear hug. She screamed and squirmed, but he held tight. He pushed her forward until her legs hit the couch, spun her around and forced her down.

Dan stood to one side of Melissa, Perry on the other. Their faces were flushed. “
Don’t
you move.” Perry pointed a finger at her.

Melissa glared up at them, teeth clenched and trembling. She was outweighed, outnumbered, and betrayed. Her glare cut to me, glistening with hatred. And a telltale glint of something else she would never admit.

Fear.

“All right.” Dan held up a palm. “Let’s just all calm down. I need to hear this from the beginning.”

“There’s nothing to hear.” Defiance pinched Melissa’s face.

“Joanne says there is.”

“Joanne’s a
liar
.”

Dan looked to me and spread his hands. Baxter Jackson was no stranger to him. They may not be close friends themselves, but Chief Eddington provided a strong link. Baxter was a prominent citizen in Dan’s county—and no DA would pounce on such a person without good reason.

My legs felt suddenly weak. The last twenty-four hours had been the longest in my life. Now that my ploy had worked—so far—what energy I had left seemed to drain right out of me.

I still held Melissa’s purse. I didn’t trust her anywhere near it. I backed up and sank into the armchair Dan had left. He and Perry continued to guard Melissa. I set her handbag in my lap.

“It started last night on a road near my house…” Quickly I related the story of Hooded Man, the break-in at my home, finding Melissa, the gunman in
her
house, Perry’s rescue. Perry listened as intently as Dan, equally amazed at the parts he didn’t know. Melissa pressed back against the couch, head down, arms folded. Even in her silence I could almost smell the burning gears of her mind. She would not give in easily.

“So I brought her to you, Dan. I told her I was bringing her to my brother’s house.” I dared a glance at Melissa. She shot me a look of pure venom. “She can tell you everything about Linda’s murder. Baxter has to be caught quickly. Now he’s after both of us.”

“I’m
not
telling you anything.” Melissa leaned toward Dan. “’Cause guess what? I lied to her. I don’t know
anything
about Linda’s death.”

“Then why is Baxter after you?” Perry retorted.

“Maybe he’s not. Maybe it’s someone else, who knows? She has no proof it’s Baxter.”

Dan raised his eyebrows at me. “Do you?”

“I…no. You’ll have to find the gunman. Make him talk. Baxter will never admit to anything.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s put that aside for a minute.” He regarded Melissa, two fingers at his lips. The stance of a prosecutor pondering argument. “So you don’t know about Linda’s death.”

“No.”

“But someone told Joanne you do know. And now that someone may be trying to kill you. Mere coincidence?”

“You can’t make me stay here.”

“You want to call the police?”

Melissa seared him with a look.

Dan walked two steps toward me, turned back, and pointed at Melissa. “Stay there.” He approached me. I held up the purse. He peered inside until his expression indicated he saw the handgun. “You got a permit to carry this?”

“It’s a friend’s. I just borrowed it a few days ago.”

“I take it that means no.”

No response.

Dan focused again inside the purse. “Unlawful carrying and possession of weapons. That could get you a year in state prison.”

Melissa shoved upright, her eyes wide. “You can’t do that to me! It’s not my gun!”

“That’s the point.”

“But it’s just borrowed. I can give it back.”

“You’re carrying it. You shot someone with it.”

“He was trying to shoot
me
!”

“Tell that to the DA.”

Melissa’s shoulders arched. Her eyes sought Dan’s, silently begging him to take back his words. Dan stared back at her with his hard prosecutorial gaze. With a loud expelling of air, Melissa fell against the couch. Her chin dropped. “I can’t believe this.”

Dan handed the purse back to me. Shrugged. “We
could
forget about the gun.”

From beneath her lashes, Melissa eyed him warily.

“Unlawful carrying and possession of a concealed weapon is a small thing compared to homicide. That’s a crime that should never go unpunished. Tell me what you know about Linda Jackson’s murder, and we’ll let the gun thing go.”

“I
told
you. I don’t know
anything
!”

He headed for the couch and sat down beside her. Too close. Melissa leaned away.

“I think you do.” Dan’s voice ran smooth. “I’ve known Joanne for years now. She’s done some skip tracing for me, did you know that? Whenever I’ve had to find a witness that we’d lost track of. Joanne’s reliable. I believe what she says. And
she
tells me you’ve admitted to her that you witnessed Linda Jackson’s murder.”

“I didn’t. Really.” Melissa’s voice sounded dull. “I lied.”

Dan eyed her, waiting. Silence throbbed the air. Melissa focused blankly on the floor, her face a mask of stubbornness.

Perry eased away from her, back to his armchair.

Dan shifted his position. “Ever hear of a material witness?”

Melissa made no response.

“That’s what you are. You witnessed a crime, and your knowledge of that crime is material to prosecuting the case. Under California law you can’t just walk away with that knowledge. If you refuse to tell what you know, I can put you in jail. Right now.”

“No!” Melissa’s head swung toward him, her cheeks blanched.

“I can keep you in jail up to forty-eight hours. Which means Monday morning I’ll take you before the judge. He will order you to face the grand jury and tell them what you know. If you fail to appear before the grand jury, a warrant will be issued for your arrest.”

The district attorney’s words fell like hammers upon Melissa. I watched her body shrink with each blow. When he finished, her gaze roved the floor as if seeking an answer to this nightmare.

“Why are you so against testifying?” Perry asked. “You lived with Linda. I saw the two of you come into my store plenty of times, and you seemed to be great friends.”

“We were.” Melissa’s words were barely audible.

She said no more. Dan and I exchanged glances. I hadn’t known he could jail Melissa for refusing to cooperate. The illegal weapon charge, I’d thought, would be threat enough. Now she was indeed trapped. The knowledge should have soothed me. I’d hunted her and found her. Mission accomplished.

But a niggling voice inside taunted this wasn’t over.

“Have it your way.” Dan pushed to his feet. “I’m going to make the call.”

Melissa jerked her head up. “What call?”

“The police. They’ll take you down to jail. The gun charge is going with you too.”