He raised his hands from Linda’s chest. They hovered above her body, helpless and trembling, as his eyes sought Melissa’s. “She’s dead.” His voice pinched. He shook his head, disbelieving. Baxter’s body leaned to one side until he slipped off his knees and sat down hard. His chin dropped, a sob wrenching from his throat.
Melissa moved to him and pressed her fingers into his shoulder. “Shhhh. It’ll be okay.”
His head jerked up. “What do you
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
Anger mottled Baxter’s face. “You killed her.”
“I—it all happened so fast.”
“You
“She was about to kill
Baxter’s lips twisted. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Linda out of your way.”
“Of course not.”
“You planned this all along.”
Melissa’s back straightened. “No I didn’t—it just happened. You’re the one who drugged her.”
“
“Baxter, she was going to cut you into shreds! What did you want me to do—stand back and let it happen?”
“You did this. You killed my wife!”
Baxter leapt to his feet, greedy hands stretched for Melissa’s throat. She stumbled backward, arms before her face, and swung away. He punched her in the kidney. Pain shot through Melissa’s lower back. She listed to one side, gagging for air.
He hit her in the spine. Melissa crashed down on all fours, tried to scrabble away, fighting for oxygen. He kicked her in the side.
“Stop it!” She grabbed his leg. Baxter went off balance and caught the counter to stay upright. He jerked his leg to free it, but she hung on tight. Baxter lunged downward, grabbed her hair, and pulled. Melissa yanked his leg. He toppled to the floor onto his side.
The fall seemed to crack him. In seconds all his fight spilled away. He pushed to a sitting position, then slumped against a cabinet, chin nearly touching his chest.
Melissa let go of his leg and scooted beyond his reach. Her open mouth sucked in oxygen. Her whole body burned.
Baxter dropped his face in both hands and moaned.
Melissa watched warily, her muscles tensed to spring away if he turned on her again. A minute passed.
Two…
Three.
With caution she crawled to his side. “Baxter. You know I didn’t mean this to happen.”
He raised his head, nostrils sucking in and out. Sweat trickled down one temple. He would not look at her. Instead he stared across the room for a long time, as if Melissa did not exist. When he finally spoke his tone had thinned to cold steel. “We have to figure out what to do.” He raised a shaking hand and wiped at his cheek, further smearing the remnants of Linda’s blood. Baxter’s gaze raked the floor as if an answer had been cut into the hardwood.
He swallowed. “We need to call the police.”
Melissa’s head drew back. “No way.”
He tilted his head and regarded her with disdain. “Just what do you suggest?”
“What would you tell them?”
“How about the truth? You killed my wife.”
Melissa eyed him coolly. “They’ll want the whole story. You want to tell them that too?”
He stared back at her, jaw tight. Calculations rippled across his face, as if the two of them had just begun a fatal game of chess.
Melissa’s body throbbed.
Baxter forced his eyes to his wife’s still form. “We can’t claim self-defense. Nobody’s going to believe she came at me with a knife.”
Melissa’s control faltered. For a crazy minute she imagined herself hanging from the corner of the ceiling, looking down at the surreal scene.
She’d done it now. She’d really done it, and there was no going back. Baxter could turn against her in a heartbeat. Say she killed Linda out of jealousy, and he had nothing to do with it. If she told the police he beat his wife, they’d never believe her. Any bruises on Linda’s body Baxter could attribute to
Melissa’s chin wavered and her lips pulled. She leaned against a cabinet and pressed both hands over her eyes. Drew her knees up to her chest. “I didn’t mean to
No response from Baxter, not one sound or movement. Melissa played out her crying. After a minute she sniffed and rubbed her eyes, knowing she was smearing her mascara. She fixed him with a dull gaze.
He met her eyes, his mouth curled. “Melissa, the girl who never cries. Not even at her own mother’s funeral, so they told me.”
Indignation seeped into Melissa’s veins. She fought to keep it from her expression.
Baxter couldn’t put Linda’s death all on her. She could cry rape. Linda had caught Baxter in the act and screamed she’d tell the world. He killed her to shut her up. A medical exam of Melissa would prove they’d had sex. Even if Baxter convinced them he hadn’t forced her, it would still be statutory rape. His reputation would be in the dirt. The town would turn against him. His real estate business would tank.
He knew this already. He’d thought this through.
Fine then. He wanted to play chess? Bring on the game.
Melissa straightened her shoulders and looked Baxter in the eye. “What do you want from me?”
Baxter’s face transformed from grieving husband to the hard ice of a glacial lake. Here was the Baxter Melissa knew. The king of Vonita, master of his castle. The man who could do whatever he thought necessary and get away with it.
He pushed to his feet. “Like it or not—and I
Melissa rose too. She didn’t like looking up at him. “Of course we’re in this together.” She tinged her voice with sincerity—
He ran a hand across his forehead. “Get dressed. In dark clothes. We have to get rid of the evidence.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
FEBRUARY 2010
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy” called to me through the quicksand. The voice echoed, mocking and full of portent. Abject fear sifted over me, caking my body.
I swam against the weight pulling me down. Broke the surface.
My eyes pried open.
Melissa Harkoff stood over me, a gun in her hand. Her mouth curled into a vengeful smile. “Hello, Joanne.”
No, this was a dream. I’d fallen asleep…
“Sit up.” Her tone pierced, a shard of glass.
Reality hit. Dull adrenaline prickled my limbs. I struggled to a sitting position and cringed back against the headboard.
