Deceit (27 page)

Dan and Slater stepped out of the interrogation room for a moment, leaving a sullen Trovky inside. I met them in the hall as they conferred in low tones, Perry at my side. “You’re going to arrest Baxter now, right?”

Perry touched me on the shoulder. “Joanne—”

“We need more on him,” Dan said. “We want to be absolutely sure the charge of solicitation of murder sticks.”

“What about murdering his
wife
?”

Slater shrugged. “That comes next, once we’ve discovered the body. Hopefully one thing will lead to another. But we have to catch Melissa.”

“You will now. You can just watch the drop-off point for her, right?”

“That’s the plan.”

“So then you’ll have Baxter in custody, and Melissa will have to talk.” I looked from the officer to the DA, gripping my upper arms. I so wanted to believe everything was going to work out.

“Baxter won’t talk,” Slater said. “He’ll lawyer up the minute we start asking questions.”

“So you’ll just let him
go
?”

Slater sizzled me with a look. The press of his mouth and hardness of his eyes betrayed his own tiredness. He’d been up all night questioning a witness, and he didn’t need some uppity woman telling him what to do. Dan put both hands on his hips. The overhead light played up the circles beneath his eyes. “Joanne, why don’t you go get some sleep? There’s nothing more you can do here.”

“
Why
can’t you—”

“We’ll handle this, okay?” Slater thrust his face at me. “Dan’s right. You should go home.”

My jaw tightened. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t
have
a safe home to go to until Baxter’s off the streets.”

“Whoa, both of you.” Dan held up his hands.

Perry squeezed my arm, nudging me away. I would not be moved.

“Okay, let’s just ease off.” The DA gestured toward the room where Perry and I had sat. “You want to stay here awhile longer, fine. Just…you’ve done all you can now, Joanne. It’s time to let us handle this thing.”

That was a little too hard. And I was a lot too tired.
This thing
meant my life.

I would not rest until I saw Baxter Jackson in handcuffs.

FIFTY-ONE

AUGUST 2004

With Baxter in Melissa’s room, time flipped into warp speed. The outside world didn’t matter. When Melissa happened to glance at her clock again it read 1:35 a.m.

Baxter followed her gaze and sighed. “I need to go.”

He slid from bed and started rooting around the floor for his clothes. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating the room in a pale haze. Baxter picked up Melissa’s pajamas and tossed them to her. She slipped them on. He stood and ran a hand through his hair.

“We’re going to be tired tomorrow.”

She smiled. “You saying it wasn’t worth it?”

“I—”

A knock hit the door.

They froze. Melissa stared at Baxter in horror.

“Quick,” she whispered, “get in the closet.”

He came to life. With long, quiet strides he scurried toward the walk-in, edged inside, and pulled the door closed.

Another knock. Louder this time. The handle turned back and forth.

Melissa cast a frantic look around the floor, searching for anything Baxter may have left behind. The rug was empty.

She clamped down inside, calming herself. “Yeah?” Her voice came out sleepy and thick.

“Unlock the door, Melissa.”

Heart beating in her throat, Melissa padded across the room. She turned the lock and opened her door to a lit hallway, her eyes squinting against the light. Linda stood in her pajamas, hair mussed and circles beneath her eyes.

Melissa frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Baxter?”

“Baxter. No. What do you mean?”

“He’s gone.” Linda’s voice edged. “I can’t find him.”

“Did you look downstairs? Maybe he can’t sleep.”

“I’ve looked everywhere.” Linda leaned forward, peering past Melissa into the room. Suspicion etched her forehead.

“Is his car here?”

“Yes, I checked.”

Melissa ran a hand across her eyes. “Well, I don’t…do you want me to help you 1—?”

“Is he in here, Melissa?” The question came hard, brittle.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would he be in here?”

Linda shot her a twisted look of grief and fury. “When I came back up the stairs I thought I heard voices.”

“In
here?
No way, I was sleeping.”

Linda pulled herself up straight. Her bleary eyes looked deep into Melissa’s. “Open the door all the way. I want to see inside the room.”

“
What?
What’s wrong with you?”

“Open the door!”

Melissa lifted her hand in an annoyed gesture and stood back. Linda swept past her into the bedroom. The woman strode to the middle of the carpet, turning her head right and left, shooting penetrating looks in the dim illumination from the hallway. She thrust a hand in her hair, then stumbled over to check on the other side of the desk, the dressers.

“Linda,
what
are you looking for?”

A moan escaped from Linda’s throat. For a moment she drew up, disoriented, as if waking from a surreal dream. Then she hurried around the foot of the bed and to the other side, checking the floor between it and the wall.

Not a sound from the closet, a mere eight feet away from where Linda stood. Melissa pictured Baxter inside, taut-necked and holding his breath.

“Come on, Linda.” Melissa gestured toward the hall, her tone low and patient, as if cajoling a child. “We need to go through the house. What if Baxter’s hurt somewhere? We have to go look.”

“If he’s hurt, let him lie there.” Linda’s words flattened. “I hope he
is
hurt.”

Melissa swallowed. Just what had Baxter drugged Linda with—truth serum? “I hear you. I felt that way about my mom lots of times.”

Linda raised her chin and fixed a sickened and weary look upon Melissa. “You have no idea how I feel.” She swayed.

“Okay, that’s it.” Melissa hurried toward her. “I’m getting you back to bed before you fall over. I’ll look for Baxter.”

Linda’s gaze cut left and glued itself on the closet door. Melissa saw the horrifying thought ripple across her face. Melissa reached for her arm, but Linda yanked away from her and veered drunkenly for the closet.

“What are you doing?” Melissa leapt after her, grabbed the back of her pajamas.

Linda whirled around. “Let go of me!”

“You were about to walk into the wall.”

“Let
go
!” She slapped both hands on Melissa’s chest and pushed. Melissa staggered backward. Linda jumped toward the closet, hand outstretched toward the knob. Melissa fought for her footing, one arm smacking the wall. She cursed and threw herself forward. “Stop!”

Too late. Linda flung the door open. The walk-in gaped black, vague shapes of clothes hanging from long rods on both sides. Her fingers scrabbled around the inside wall, searching for the light switch.

In that split second everything Melissa had built in the last two months, everything she’d fought for blazed before her eyes. Her muscles gathered to spring toward Linda, to
stop
her—and just like that the flame died out. Melissa’s limbs slackened. She straightened, hands on her hips, mouth twisting. So Linda wanted to know, did she?

Fine.

Linda’s finger found the switch. Light flooded the closet.

FIFTY-TWO

FEBRUARY 2010

A ringing yanked Baxter from toss-driven sleep. He registered the sound of his special cell phone—and his veins flooded with dread. No light shone through the windows. He checked the nightstand clock.

Five-thirty-two a.m.

His hand reached across the mattress, pulled the phone close. “
What
is it?”

“I got Joanne Weeks in my sights.”

He blinked a few times. “Right now?”

“Been watching her house. She just got home in her car. I can do her now. That still what you want?”

Baxter thought a minute. “You can break into her house and get to her before she hears anything?” The last thing he needed was for his man to get caught now, before he could kill Melissa.

“I got in there Saturday night, didn’t I?”

Baxter sat up on the side of his bed. “So do it.”

“I get my money for killing her, right?”

“Sure—after you take care of Melissa.”

“The other half for both of them. Ten thousand dollars total.”

“
After
you take care of Melissa.”

“How we going to meet up?”

“We’ll talk about that
after
you take care of Melissa. You lose her, the deal’s off.”

“I won’t lose her.”

“Call me when it’s done.”

“You got it.”

Baxter clicked off the line.

FIFTY-THREE

Perched on the edge of my seat, I watched Edgar Trovky pull the cell phone from his ear and punch off the call. The phone was wired up to a recording device that had captured every word. He set the phone on the table with a
clack
. Leaned back in his chair. “Happy now?”

Dan nodded. “I’m happy.”

Slater regarded Trovky, his head tilted. “You did good.”

Trovky snorted. “Give me a dog biscuit.”

My watch read 5:35.

My body felt numb. Coated inside with cold oil.

Perry gripped my hand. “You did it, Joanne. They’ve got enough to bring Baxter in now.”

I
did it? I’d sat here for the last few hours feeling absolutely helpless.

Perry shook his head as if reading my thoughts. He leaned close to me. I could see golden flecks in his eyes. How had I never seen them before? “If you hadn’t chased down Melissa, if you hadn’t thought quick on your feet and taken her to the DA, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

I held his gaze, then slowly, solemnly nodded. “You helped. We did it together.”

Relief and satisfaction, grief and a fulfilled sense of justice swept through me. My head lowered. I wanted to cry.

But I wasn’t done yet.

An officer took Trovky away to jail. While Dan made a phone call to Chief Eddington, Perry and I stood like immovable boulders in the hallway. Slater told us to go home—again. It was over.

It wasn’t over.

At 6:15 Dan faced Perry and me, hands on his hips. He’d just gotten off the phone with Chief Eddington. Dan and Slater would meet the chief at the small Vonita station, then drive to Baxter Jackson’s house, each man in his own car. More police vehicles would follow, carrying a team to search Baxter’s house. Slater’s vehicle would transport Baxter to the San Jose jail. Dan wanted to be present at the arrest and as Baxter was brought in for questioning. When Baxter learned that his man had squealed, their call had been recorded, and police would be present to intercept Melissa at the drop-off point, maybe, just maybe he’d break.

More likely he’d call an attorney faster than I could reach for a Jelly Belly bag.

“Bet I know why you’re still here.” Dan looked from Perry to me.

I gave him a slow blink. I knew I looked dead on my feet. No matter, I’d push through. “One more car’s not going to hurt anything.”

“Chief Eddington wouldn’t like it.”

“I don’t care what Chief Eddington likes.”

“Joanne, this is just pure revenge now.”

I pulled back my head. “No, Dan. It’s pure justice. For my best friend.”

They’d almost delayed picking up Baxter. Slater and Dan had discussed the pros and cons of allowing him to make the money drop-off first. They didn’t want word of his arrest to somehow reach Melissa. If she didn’t visit the drop-off site, she’d be harder to locate, and they’d have to hope she used her cell phone. But they couldn’t trust that Baxter wouldn’t take matters into his own hands and come after either me or Melissa. In the end Dan and Slater decided a quiet, early morning arrest would be the best choice. Chief Eddington would keep a lid on it as long as possible, giving them a chance to pick up Melissa.

Five minutes after my conversation with Dan, Perry and I headed out in the caravan toward Vonita. My 4Runner would be kept by police as evidence. No telling when I would get it back.

Small price to pay.

My head lolled as Perry drove his SUV away from the San Jose station. “I’m sorry you got pulled into this, Perry.” My mouth felt like mush.

“You kiddin’? I got to rescue two women from a killer and kick in a door, all in one night.”

I lay back against the headrest. “And you figured out the blackmail part.”

He stopped at a red light. “I’m good.”

“You and your detective novels.”

Perry turned his head and gave me a long, slow smile. “They filled the spaces.”

Filled
—past tense. I held his meaningful gaze until my courage failed—and I looked away.

We rode the rest of the way in thrumming silence.

At the Vonita station Dan and Slater got out of their cars to greet Eddington. The chief looked none too happy. I wanted to scream and dance. I wanted to fall over and sleep.

Chief Eddington glanced at Perry’s car, then pointedly ignored us. My presence surely prickled him, but he would never show it.

We hit the Jackson driveway at 7:15. Two more vehicles, carrying the officers who would search Baxter’s house, had joined the procession.

A realization struck me. How few times I’d gone up that drive. Linda had always come to my house, even during the day when Baxter was at work. As if she needed to step out of her life to be with me. Perhaps within her own unhappy walls she knew in my presence her mask would have slipped.

Perry and I were last in the lineup. As the circular drive swept up toward the porch, Perry hung back. We didn’t need to be that close. Just close enough. Dan, Slater, and the chief stopped near the steps, the two other cars behind them. All three got out of their cars. Dan stayed by his while Slater and the chief mounted the stairs to the grand porch. Slater rang the bell.