Deceit, page 14
“You can’t miss tonight.” Baxter’s tone sounded dismissive. “These are my fireworks, remember? I pay for them. What would it look like if you weren’t there?”
Linda focused on her plate. Most of the sandwich remained upon it. “People know I’m sick. They’ll understand.”
“Well, I won’t. You’re going, and that’s all there is to it.”
Baxter’s eyes remained on his wife, but somehow Melissa knew his attention still fixed upon her. Like he was testing her, daring her to interfere. The air around Melissa rumbled, as if a long-threatened earthquake approached. She sat very still.
Linda pushed back her chair and rose. Her face looked stretched, taut.
“Where are you going?” Baxter demanded.
“To bed.”
“You’re not done eating.”
“I’ve had enough. If I’m going tonight, I need to rest now.” Linda looked pointedly at me, then at her husband, as if reminding him their perfect little facade was looking ragged at the edges. She turned away.
Baxter’s expression blackened. He jumped up and grabbed her arm. “Sit down! I didn’t say you could leave.”
She tried to yank away. He gripped her harder. “I said sit down!” With both hands he shoved her back into the chair. Her body hit with a heavy thump. The chair legs bounced against the wood floor.
Linda’s face crumpled. She bent over, her shoulders jerking in a silent sob. Sick as she was, she clearly lacked the energy to pretend. Baxter stood over her, glaring, hands low on his hips. His mouth formed a tight line, one strand of his thick hair out of place. The fire in his eyes dared his wife to make one more stupid move.
“Stop crying.” His words forced through clenched teeth.
Linda ducked lower, stuttering in a long breath. But a wail escaped her throat.
“Shut up!” Baxter punched her behind her right ear.
“Unh!” Linda’s head ricocheted left, and she almost fell out of the chair. She shot out a foot, regained her balance. Her body sank lower, arms thrown up to protect her head. Her whole torso shook.
Melissa’s lungs curled inward. She perched in tight-throated silence, her limbs like stone. Now he’d done it. He’d upended the game board. It was one thing for her to ignore abuse behind a closed door. Now he’d thrown it in her face.
Baxter cursed and threw himself into heavy-legged pacing, his shoulders rounded, head down and shaking. Three steps away, he heaved himself up and whirled around. “See what you’ve done, Linda? Why do you make me have to do this? Why can’t you just do what I say?”
“I’m…s-sorry.” The words rose from Linda, soggy and bloated.
“You’re sorry, all right! What’s Melissa going to think of you now?”
His barbed accusation cut deep into Linda—Melissa could tell by the way the woman shrank, the twitch of her body. Pain and humiliation rolled off her in waves. Melissa sensed the shame far outweighed her physical pain. Shame that the life Linda had modeled for a foster daughter had suddenly been exposed as a lie.
Melissa turned her gaze on Baxter, fear trickling through her veins. She’d been crazy, thinking she could match wits with this man. Now that the charade had disintegrated, nothing would keep him from hitting her next. Could be today. Could be tomorrow. But it would come.
Unless she found a way to stop it.
Baxter raised challenging eyes to Melissa—and the world stopped. What she saw in that burning stare made her head reel. A mad defiance borne of guilt.
Guilt.
In that moment she understood his recent mood. It had nothing to do with a lost sale and everything to do with her. The perfect church-going man who somehow justified beating his wife now faced a new temptation—one he was scared to death he couldn’t conquer.
Melissa’s eyes drifted to Linda, who was still crying. So alone in her chair. For a moment Melissa wanted to lay a comforting hand on her arm.
The crazy thought quickly passed.
She looked again to Baxter, meeting his glare head-on and steady, as if gazing straight into his soul. This was her defining moment. Sides were aligning here, and one wrong step could cost her everything.
Melissa raised her shoulders. And her chin. But she turned her head and tilted it, just a little. Lifted one side of her mouth in a whisper of a knowing smile.
I know what you really want, she told Baxter Jackson, saying nothing. And I’ll never tell.
THIRTY-SIX
FEBRUARY 2010
“Baxter sent that man!”
Shock spritzed my veins. I shifted in my seat to look Melissa in the face. “Why would Baxter do that? Why would he want me to find the person who can tell the truth about him?”
The moment I asked the question, I knew the answer.
Melissa leaned forward, as if talking to an idiot child. “Because he wants to kill me.”
I stared at Melissa, open-mouthed, still not wanting to believe Baxter had sent Hooded Man. Because if that was true, I had been so duped.
But Hooded Man had called this afternoon, just to be sure I was looking. As if there was no time to waste. He’d played on my fear of Baxter. Even told me Chief Eddington was in on Baxter’s schemes…
Then who had broken into my house? If Baxter wanted me to find Melissa, he wouldn’t have sent someone to hurt me last night.
I could barely find my tongue. “Does Chief Eddington know Baxter killed Linda?”
“No way, no one knows. Baxter and me, that’s it. He would never tell, and neither would I. That’s how I know he’s behind this.”
No. I just didn’t…I peered out the windshield, searching the darkness for answers. They swirled beyond my reach.
My chin dropped. “The hooded man who told me—he said the police were in on it.”
“Let me guess—he told you that after you said you’d go to them.”
The words stabbed a knife in me and twisted. I couldn’t raise my head to look at her.
“So you wouldn’t go.” Melissa just had to press her point. “So you’d look for me all by yourself, with no one knowing. And lead Baxter straight to me.”
“But how did I lead him to you? I waited for you on your street for hours. I saw no one.”
“Well, you didn’t look hard enough.”
I rubbed my forehead, picturing Hooded Man in the rain. Was he our pursuer? I’d seen the gunman only in a flash. No way could I tell.
“And in case you’re too stupid to get this too, Joanne—he also wanted to kill you. Perfect, huh. He gets rid of me, his one witness, and the person who led him here.”
I stared at the steering wheel, unseeing. Melissa had to be right. Hooded Man…the break-in at my house last night…the one at hers today—they had to be connected. Although I still couldn’t understand the break-in at my place. Who had done that, and why? My lagging brain sensed I was overlooking an obvious piece of the puzzle, but try as I might, I couldn’t think through it.
“That man in the mask you saw,” Melissa said. “Did he look like the gunman?”
“I don’t know. Same build I guess, but…Do you know who he is?”
“Probably some hired lowlife. Obviously not a professional or we’d we dead.”
Exhaustion crawled through my system. My brain was turning to mush. “We need to go somewhere safe for the night, figure out what to do.”
Melissa glared at me. “Aren’t you even going to apologize?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Wow. What an apology. You sure sound sorry.”
“I am. More than you know. It’s just that…I have to get some sleep. So I can figure this out.”
“Another wild guess—you were up late last night looking for me?”
I dropped my gaze.
Melissa thrust her arms into a fold and focused out her window. “Great. We’ll go to some hotel. And sleep.” She emphasized the word as if that’s the last thing she wanted to do. “You’re paying.”
My mind was shutting down fast, my thoughts hazy. “What hotel should we go to?”
“I don’t know! Somewhere far away from here.”
I shook my head and blinked hard. Started the car engine. “We’ll go…north.”
We got back on the freeway. At a Mountain View exit we pulled off and found a hotel. After checking into a second floor room with two double beds, I moved the car around back, where it couldn’t be spotted from the street. I put the car keys in my pocket instead of in my purse, just in case Melissa decided she wanted to take a little ride while I was asleep.
In the room Melissa hustled over to close the curtains. I visited the bathroom, then sat down hard on a bed. Melissa punched the pillows up against the headboard on the other bed and heaved herself into a sitting position, staring at the far wall. She pulled her purse next to her, took out the gun, and laid it beside her.
“You’re not going to take off as soon as I’m conked out, are you?” I barely felt my own mouth ask the question. I collapsed on my back, hands folded on my stomach. My body ran like melting wax.
Melissa made a disgusted sound. “And just where would I go—thanks to you?”
I sighed. My eyes closed. “Whose house were you staying at?”
“A friend. He’s gone for a week on a business trip. Said I could housesit.”
“Why did you leave Tony?”
“None of your business.”
Yes, it is, I wanted to retort. But my mind couldn’t push the words to my tongue.
A quicksand of sleep bubbled up around me. My body gave in, began to sink. The muck rose…rose…until it closed over my head, swallowing me whole…
A ringing cell phone shrilled the air.
THIRTY-SEVEN
A second ring resounded in the hotel room. My entire body jumped. Slowly my weighted brain drifted up from the quicksand, so…very…heavy.
Ring three.
“Whaa…?” my mouth said, the word thick and rumbling. My eyes opened, unfocused.
Melissa was rooting around in my purse, which lay on the floor by my bed. She pulled out my cell and peered at the screen. “You know a Perry Bracowski?”
“Uh-huh.”
She held the phone out of my reach. “Is he safe?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Give me the phone, Melissa.”
She handed it over. I took it with fumbling fingers. “Hi. Perry.” I stayed on my back, staring at the cream-colored motel ceiling.
“Joanne, you okay?”
“I was just…falling asleep.”
“Oh.” His voice held surprise that I would go to bed so early. What time was it, anyway? “Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to know if everything’s all right. Last time we talked you didn’t sound like yourself.”
No kidding. Enervation warped his comment into downright funny. My laugh bordered on a hysterical giggle. “Never had a better day. Even got shot at.”
A stunned silence played over the phone. “You got shot at?”
Melissa flapped a hand at me, warning me to shut up. I ignored her.
“Joanne. Who shot at you?”
“Somebody who apparently wants me dead.”
“Who? Someone you’re skip tracing?”
“No. It’s complicated.”
“Stop talking right now.” Melissa stepped toward me, her expression menacing.
“I’ll talk to him if I want to.”
“Who?” Perry cut in. “Are you talking to me?”
“No. To Miss Priss here.”
Melissa’s face twisted. She swept a hand toward the phone. I jerked away from her.
A portion of my mind cleared. With the clearing, all humor died away, replaced with one cogent thought.
I sat up, swung my legs to the floor, my back to Melissa. “Perry, hold on a minute.” I swiveled toward Melissa and thrust a finger at her. “Don’t do that again.”
She stood her ground, folded her arms, and glared at me.
I returned the phone to my ear. “Perry. You read detective novels all the time, right? I need to run a scenario by you.”
“Okay.”
“Say someone’s out in their car all day. Going here, going there. Sees no one following them. But then something happens that proves somebody was following. How could they do that without being spotted?”
“If the person’s good at tailing, he should be able to keep out of sight easily enough.”
“But…”
Frustration bounced around within me. My question sounded so naive. But it wouldn’t have been that easy for someone to keep out of sight when I was parked on Melissa’s street. I’d constantly checked for cars and hadn’t seen anyone lurking around. And when I was in the church parking lot Hooded Man had phoned me, demanding to know if I was looking for Melissa. If he’d been following me, wouldn’t he have known where I was?
“Of course he could also have put a GPS on the person’s car,” Perry added. “Then he could track without being close by.”
I stilled. A GPS system. Not the kind of equipment a law-abiding skip tracer would use. But that intruder last night, in my garage. Drops of rain leading to my car…
The missing puzzle piece my tired brain couldn’t find earlier.
How stupid of me. I should have guessed this. I should have known.
My body stiffened. Wait a minute. If a GPS was on my car, whoever Baxter had hired would know where we were right now. They could be at the motel any minute.
“Where would he put it, Perry?”
“Different places. Inside, maybe, like in the glove compartment. Or underneath the car, using a magnetized case. Why—”
“How big is it?”
“Pretty small.”
If it was underneath the car I’d never find it in the dark. I had no flashlight. And no way would I even go out to the parking lot.
Melissa came around the foot of the bed to watch my face.
“We have to get out of here.” I blurted the words into the phone, my eyes locked with Melissa’s.
Her eyes rounded. “What?”
“He thinks they put a GPS tracking system on my car.”
She shoved both hands into her hair, her face whitening. “Where do we go with no car?” Melissa’s voice pinched like a scared child’s. “And how do we leave the room if they’re out there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you’d better think of something!”
My eyes squeezed shut. How had this happened? I was a skip tracer; now I was on the run.
“Joanne!” Perry’s voice drilled into my ear. I punched on the speakerphone so Melissa could hear. “Who is with you? Tell me what’s happening.”
Briefly I did. Melissa paced at the end of the beds, palms together and pressed against her mouth. When I told Perry about the break-in at my house, she came to a stop and glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“You need to call the police,” Perry said.
“I—”
“No!” Melissa shook her head furiously. “She calls the police, and I’m out of here right now. The first thing they’ll do is take us down to the station and try to force me to tell what I know. And I’ll never do it. I’d be dead before they even tried to do a thing to Baxter.”
I knew she meant it. Melissa could run again at any time. How would I ever convince her to change her mind? “You hear her?” I spoke into the phone.
“I heard. No police.” He paused. “I’ll come get you.”
“But your store—”
“I’ll close early.”
Melissa thrust herself toward me. “He’s not coming with cops!”
“No, he’s—”
“Melissa!” Frustration coated Perry’s voice. I held the speakerphone toward her.
“You’re not bringing cops.” Fire blazed in her eyes.
“I hear you, already.”
“I swear if you show up with them, I’ll deny I ever said anything about Baxter.”
“Melissa, chill out. I’m coming by myself.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And you’re welcome.”
She puffed out a martyr’s sigh.
“Nice companion you’ve got there, Joanne,” Perry said.
Melissa rolled her eyes and turned away.
“So tell me where you are.”
I told him.
“Okay, I’ll leave right now. Stay in your room.”
I calculated how long it would take Perry to make the drive.
“Thanks, Perry. Thank you so much.”
“Just one more day in my exciting life.” He hung up.
I threw the cell phone back into my purse and faced Melissa. “He’s trying to help, you know. He doesn’t have to do this.”
Her expression flattened. She licked her lips. “I know. It’s just…We almost got killed. And it’s all because of Baxter. I don’t want anything to do with his problems. For six years I’ve tried to forget what happened, but it never goes away. I just want to live my life.”
A new wave of tiredness hit. I just wanted to live my life too. Imagine what it must be like for someone as young as Melissa to carry such a burden.
“You will, Melissa. You will.”
She brushed aside my platitudes and headed for her purse. Pulled out her cell phone. “I have to call a friend. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow for breakfast.” Melissa’s hardened tone had returned—a reminder to me that I’d thoroughly messed up her life. “I’ll think of some excuse.” She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the dull whir of the fan come on.
I sank upon my bed and scooted up to lean against the headboard. Checked the clock. Five after eight. We had over an hour to wait for Perry.
THIRTY-EIGHT
JULY 2004
When to dive off a sinking ship? And where to go, except back to the shark-infested waters of Social Services? Did Melissa really think another foster home would be better than living with the Jacksons?
Maybe the ship wouldn’t totally sink after all, she told herself in the volatile days following July Fourth. Maybe only one end would, while her end tipped higher and safer than ever.
Besides, where would Melissa be without Baxter Jackson? Sure, the man had his faults. But he was her ticket to a career, a better, solid life. A magnificent life. And there was more. He’d gotten under her skin, piercing like a long, fine sliver. There was no pulling him out, not now. They worked together well; they understood each other. Melissa recognized the need for power and control in him and knew he saw the same in her. She had one thing Linda lacked—backbone. Baxter admired Melissa for that. She was sure of it. Instead of trying to dominate her, he now seemed to revel in displaying his domination of Linda in her presence.
Linda focused on her plate. Most of the sandwich remained upon it. “People know I’m sick. They’ll understand.”
“Well, I won’t. You’re going, and that’s all there is to it.”
Baxter’s eyes remained on his wife, but somehow Melissa knew his attention still fixed upon her. Like he was testing her, daring her to interfere. The air around Melissa rumbled, as if a long-threatened earthquake approached. She sat very still.
Linda pushed back her chair and rose. Her face looked stretched, taut.
“Where are you going?” Baxter demanded.
“To bed.”
“You’re not done eating.”
“I’ve had enough. If I’m going tonight, I need to rest now.” Linda looked pointedly at me, then at her husband, as if reminding him their perfect little facade was looking ragged at the edges. She turned away.
Baxter’s expression blackened. He jumped up and grabbed her arm. “Sit down! I didn’t say you could leave.”
She tried to yank away. He gripped her harder. “I said sit down!” With both hands he shoved her back into the chair. Her body hit with a heavy thump. The chair legs bounced against the wood floor.
Linda’s face crumpled. She bent over, her shoulders jerking in a silent sob. Sick as she was, she clearly lacked the energy to pretend. Baxter stood over her, glaring, hands low on his hips. His mouth formed a tight line, one strand of his thick hair out of place. The fire in his eyes dared his wife to make one more stupid move.
“Stop crying.” His words forced through clenched teeth.
Linda ducked lower, stuttering in a long breath. But a wail escaped her throat.
“Shut up!” Baxter punched her behind her right ear.
“Unh!” Linda’s head ricocheted left, and she almost fell out of the chair. She shot out a foot, regained her balance. Her body sank lower, arms thrown up to protect her head. Her whole torso shook.
Melissa’s lungs curled inward. She perched in tight-throated silence, her limbs like stone. Now he’d done it. He’d upended the game board. It was one thing for her to ignore abuse behind a closed door. Now he’d thrown it in her face.
Baxter cursed and threw himself into heavy-legged pacing, his shoulders rounded, head down and shaking. Three steps away, he heaved himself up and whirled around. “See what you’ve done, Linda? Why do you make me have to do this? Why can’t you just do what I say?”
“I’m…s-sorry.” The words rose from Linda, soggy and bloated.
“You’re sorry, all right! What’s Melissa going to think of you now?”
His barbed accusation cut deep into Linda—Melissa could tell by the way the woman shrank, the twitch of her body. Pain and humiliation rolled off her in waves. Melissa sensed the shame far outweighed her physical pain. Shame that the life Linda had modeled for a foster daughter had suddenly been exposed as a lie.
Melissa turned her gaze on Baxter, fear trickling through her veins. She’d been crazy, thinking she could match wits with this man. Now that the charade had disintegrated, nothing would keep him from hitting her next. Could be today. Could be tomorrow. But it would come.
Unless she found a way to stop it.
Baxter raised challenging eyes to Melissa—and the world stopped. What she saw in that burning stare made her head reel. A mad defiance borne of guilt.
Guilt.
In that moment she understood his recent mood. It had nothing to do with a lost sale and everything to do with her. The perfect church-going man who somehow justified beating his wife now faced a new temptation—one he was scared to death he couldn’t conquer.
Melissa’s eyes drifted to Linda, who was still crying. So alone in her chair. For a moment Melissa wanted to lay a comforting hand on her arm.
The crazy thought quickly passed.
She looked again to Baxter, meeting his glare head-on and steady, as if gazing straight into his soul. This was her defining moment. Sides were aligning here, and one wrong step could cost her everything.
Melissa raised her shoulders. And her chin. But she turned her head and tilted it, just a little. Lifted one side of her mouth in a whisper of a knowing smile.
I know what you really want, she told Baxter Jackson, saying nothing. And I’ll never tell.
THIRTY-SIX
FEBRUARY 2010
“Baxter sent that man!”
Shock spritzed my veins. I shifted in my seat to look Melissa in the face. “Why would Baxter do that? Why would he want me to find the person who can tell the truth about him?”
The moment I asked the question, I knew the answer.
Melissa leaned forward, as if talking to an idiot child. “Because he wants to kill me.”
I stared at Melissa, open-mouthed, still not wanting to believe Baxter had sent Hooded Man. Because if that was true, I had been so duped.
But Hooded Man had called this afternoon, just to be sure I was looking. As if there was no time to waste. He’d played on my fear of Baxter. Even told me Chief Eddington was in on Baxter’s schemes…
Then who had broken into my house? If Baxter wanted me to find Melissa, he wouldn’t have sent someone to hurt me last night.
I could barely find my tongue. “Does Chief Eddington know Baxter killed Linda?”
“No way, no one knows. Baxter and me, that’s it. He would never tell, and neither would I. That’s how I know he’s behind this.”
No. I just didn’t…I peered out the windshield, searching the darkness for answers. They swirled beyond my reach.
My chin dropped. “The hooded man who told me—he said the police were in on it.”
“Let me guess—he told you that after you said you’d go to them.”
The words stabbed a knife in me and twisted. I couldn’t raise my head to look at her.
“So you wouldn’t go.” Melissa just had to press her point. “So you’d look for me all by yourself, with no one knowing. And lead Baxter straight to me.”
“But how did I lead him to you? I waited for you on your street for hours. I saw no one.”
“Well, you didn’t look hard enough.”
I rubbed my forehead, picturing Hooded Man in the rain. Was he our pursuer? I’d seen the gunman only in a flash. No way could I tell.
“And in case you’re too stupid to get this too, Joanne—he also wanted to kill you. Perfect, huh. He gets rid of me, his one witness, and the person who led him here.”
I stared at the steering wheel, unseeing. Melissa had to be right. Hooded Man…the break-in at my house last night…the one at hers today—they had to be connected. Although I still couldn’t understand the break-in at my place. Who had done that, and why? My lagging brain sensed I was overlooking an obvious piece of the puzzle, but try as I might, I couldn’t think through it.
“That man in the mask you saw,” Melissa said. “Did he look like the gunman?”
“I don’t know. Same build I guess, but…Do you know who he is?”
“Probably some hired lowlife. Obviously not a professional or we’d we dead.”
Exhaustion crawled through my system. My brain was turning to mush. “We need to go somewhere safe for the night, figure out what to do.”
Melissa glared at me. “Aren’t you even going to apologize?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Wow. What an apology. You sure sound sorry.”
“I am. More than you know. It’s just that…I have to get some sleep. So I can figure this out.”
“Another wild guess—you were up late last night looking for me?”
I dropped my gaze.
Melissa thrust her arms into a fold and focused out her window. “Great. We’ll go to some hotel. And sleep.” She emphasized the word as if that’s the last thing she wanted to do. “You’re paying.”
My mind was shutting down fast, my thoughts hazy. “What hotel should we go to?”
“I don’t know! Somewhere far away from here.”
I shook my head and blinked hard. Started the car engine. “We’ll go…north.”
We got back on the freeway. At a Mountain View exit we pulled off and found a hotel. After checking into a second floor room with two double beds, I moved the car around back, where it couldn’t be spotted from the street. I put the car keys in my pocket instead of in my purse, just in case Melissa decided she wanted to take a little ride while I was asleep.
In the room Melissa hustled over to close the curtains. I visited the bathroom, then sat down hard on a bed. Melissa punched the pillows up against the headboard on the other bed and heaved herself into a sitting position, staring at the far wall. She pulled her purse next to her, took out the gun, and laid it beside her.
“You’re not going to take off as soon as I’m conked out, are you?” I barely felt my own mouth ask the question. I collapsed on my back, hands folded on my stomach. My body ran like melting wax.
Melissa made a disgusted sound. “And just where would I go—thanks to you?”
I sighed. My eyes closed. “Whose house were you staying at?”
“A friend. He’s gone for a week on a business trip. Said I could housesit.”
“Why did you leave Tony?”
“None of your business.”
Yes, it is, I wanted to retort. But my mind couldn’t push the words to my tongue.
A quicksand of sleep bubbled up around me. My body gave in, began to sink. The muck rose…rose…until it closed over my head, swallowing me whole…
A ringing cell phone shrilled the air.
THIRTY-SEVEN
A second ring resounded in the hotel room. My entire body jumped. Slowly my weighted brain drifted up from the quicksand, so…very…heavy.
Ring three.
“Whaa…?” my mouth said, the word thick and rumbling. My eyes opened, unfocused.
Melissa was rooting around in my purse, which lay on the floor by my bed. She pulled out my cell and peered at the screen. “You know a Perry Bracowski?”
“Uh-huh.”
She held the phone out of my reach. “Is he safe?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Give me the phone, Melissa.”
She handed it over. I took it with fumbling fingers. “Hi. Perry.” I stayed on my back, staring at the cream-colored motel ceiling.
“Joanne, you okay?”
“I was just…falling asleep.”
“Oh.” His voice held surprise that I would go to bed so early. What time was it, anyway? “Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to know if everything’s all right. Last time we talked you didn’t sound like yourself.”
No kidding. Enervation warped his comment into downright funny. My laugh bordered on a hysterical giggle. “Never had a better day. Even got shot at.”
A stunned silence played over the phone. “You got shot at?”
Melissa flapped a hand at me, warning me to shut up. I ignored her.
“Joanne. Who shot at you?”
“Somebody who apparently wants me dead.”
“Who? Someone you’re skip tracing?”
“No. It’s complicated.”
“Stop talking right now.” Melissa stepped toward me, her expression menacing.
“I’ll talk to him if I want to.”
“Who?” Perry cut in. “Are you talking to me?”
“No. To Miss Priss here.”
Melissa’s face twisted. She swept a hand toward the phone. I jerked away from her.
A portion of my mind cleared. With the clearing, all humor died away, replaced with one cogent thought.
I sat up, swung my legs to the floor, my back to Melissa. “Perry, hold on a minute.” I swiveled toward Melissa and thrust a finger at her. “Don’t do that again.”
She stood her ground, folded her arms, and glared at me.
I returned the phone to my ear. “Perry. You read detective novels all the time, right? I need to run a scenario by you.”
“Okay.”
“Say someone’s out in their car all day. Going here, going there. Sees no one following them. But then something happens that proves somebody was following. How could they do that without being spotted?”
“If the person’s good at tailing, he should be able to keep out of sight easily enough.”
“But…”
Frustration bounced around within me. My question sounded so naive. But it wouldn’t have been that easy for someone to keep out of sight when I was parked on Melissa’s street. I’d constantly checked for cars and hadn’t seen anyone lurking around. And when I was in the church parking lot Hooded Man had phoned me, demanding to know if I was looking for Melissa. If he’d been following me, wouldn’t he have known where I was?
“Of course he could also have put a GPS on the person’s car,” Perry added. “Then he could track without being close by.”
I stilled. A GPS system. Not the kind of equipment a law-abiding skip tracer would use. But that intruder last night, in my garage. Drops of rain leading to my car…
The missing puzzle piece my tired brain couldn’t find earlier.
How stupid of me. I should have guessed this. I should have known.
My body stiffened. Wait a minute. If a GPS was on my car, whoever Baxter had hired would know where we were right now. They could be at the motel any minute.
“Where would he put it, Perry?”
“Different places. Inside, maybe, like in the glove compartment. Or underneath the car, using a magnetized case. Why—”
“How big is it?”
“Pretty small.”
If it was underneath the car I’d never find it in the dark. I had no flashlight. And no way would I even go out to the parking lot.
Melissa came around the foot of the bed to watch my face.
“We have to get out of here.” I blurted the words into the phone, my eyes locked with Melissa’s.
Her eyes rounded. “What?”
“He thinks they put a GPS tracking system on my car.”
She shoved both hands into her hair, her face whitening. “Where do we go with no car?” Melissa’s voice pinched like a scared child’s. “And how do we leave the room if they’re out there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you’d better think of something!”
My eyes squeezed shut. How had this happened? I was a skip tracer; now I was on the run.
“Joanne!” Perry’s voice drilled into my ear. I punched on the speakerphone so Melissa could hear. “Who is with you? Tell me what’s happening.”
Briefly I did. Melissa paced at the end of the beds, palms together and pressed against her mouth. When I told Perry about the break-in at my house, she came to a stop and glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“You need to call the police,” Perry said.
“I—”
“No!” Melissa shook her head furiously. “She calls the police, and I’m out of here right now. The first thing they’ll do is take us down to the station and try to force me to tell what I know. And I’ll never do it. I’d be dead before they even tried to do a thing to Baxter.”
I knew she meant it. Melissa could run again at any time. How would I ever convince her to change her mind? “You hear her?” I spoke into the phone.
“I heard. No police.” He paused. “I’ll come get you.”
“But your store—”
“I’ll close early.”
Melissa thrust herself toward me. “He’s not coming with cops!”
“No, he’s—”
“Melissa!” Frustration coated Perry’s voice. I held the speakerphone toward her.
“You’re not bringing cops.” Fire blazed in her eyes.
“I hear you, already.”
“I swear if you show up with them, I’ll deny I ever said anything about Baxter.”
“Melissa, chill out. I’m coming by myself.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And you’re welcome.”
She puffed out a martyr’s sigh.
“Nice companion you’ve got there, Joanne,” Perry said.
Melissa rolled her eyes and turned away.
“So tell me where you are.”
I told him.
“Okay, I’ll leave right now. Stay in your room.”
I calculated how long it would take Perry to make the drive.
“Thanks, Perry. Thank you so much.”
“Just one more day in my exciting life.” He hung up.
I threw the cell phone back into my purse and faced Melissa. “He’s trying to help, you know. He doesn’t have to do this.”
Her expression flattened. She licked her lips. “I know. It’s just…We almost got killed. And it’s all because of Baxter. I don’t want anything to do with his problems. For six years I’ve tried to forget what happened, but it never goes away. I just want to live my life.”
A new wave of tiredness hit. I just wanted to live my life too. Imagine what it must be like for someone as young as Melissa to carry such a burden.
“You will, Melissa. You will.”
She brushed aside my platitudes and headed for her purse. Pulled out her cell phone. “I have to call a friend. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow for breakfast.” Melissa’s hardened tone had returned—a reminder to me that I’d thoroughly messed up her life. “I’ll think of some excuse.” She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the dull whir of the fan come on.
I sank upon my bed and scooted up to lean against the headboard. Checked the clock. Five after eight. We had over an hour to wait for Perry.
THIRTY-EIGHT
JULY 2004
When to dive off a sinking ship? And where to go, except back to the shark-infested waters of Social Services? Did Melissa really think another foster home would be better than living with the Jacksons?
Maybe the ship wouldn’t totally sink after all, she told herself in the volatile days following July Fourth. Maybe only one end would, while her end tipped higher and safer than ever.
Besides, where would Melissa be without Baxter Jackson? Sure, the man had his faults. But he was her ticket to a career, a better, solid life. A magnificent life. And there was more. He’d gotten under her skin, piercing like a long, fine sliver. There was no pulling him out, not now. They worked together well; they understood each other. Melissa recognized the need for power and control in him and knew he saw the same in her. She had one thing Linda lacked—backbone. Baxter admired Melissa for that. She was sure of it. Instead of trying to dominate her, he now seemed to revel in displaying his domination of Linda in her presence.
