I stared at Melissa.
She moved her jaw to one side. “You’re going to tell me what I need know.”
“What?” My voice shook.
“How to disappear.”
My mouth moved. No words formed. My brain, my body refused to function.
Melissa smirked. “Not nice feeling helpless, is it?”
I swallowed. “I’m not helping you get away, Melissa.”
“You tell me, you live. You don’t help me, you die.”
Melissa…a liar, a blackmailer. Now a killer?
A heavy rock sank in my stomach. How much had I misread this girl? Could anything she said or did be trusted?
Did she really even know where Linda’s body was?
The thoughts sickened me. I’d gone through too much to catch Melissa and ultimately, Baxter Jackson. If there would be any shred of reliability left in Melissa’s testimony against him, I couldn’t lose her now.
“You kill me, there goes your information.”
“I can start with your hand—how’d you like a bullet there? Or maybe your leg.”
She’d do it. She really would. Nausea roiled through me. “I don’t think well when I’m in pain.”
We glared at each other.
Melissa ran her tongue beneath her top lip. “We’re going to go to your computer. You’re going to type out each step for me. Print it.”
“How’d you get in here?”
“Broke the glass to your back garage door. Now get up.”
Glass? I hadn’t heard a thing. And I hadn’t seen a car. How’d she get to my house? She must have parked on a side road and been waiting for my return. Maybe for hours.
“Get
I pushed off the bed. My legs nearly gave way. I clutched the headboard, steadied myself.
“Go to your office.”
Melissa backed up, giving me room to walk past her.
I eyed the gun. “That another one of Tony’s? Did he bring you here?”
Anger pinched her face. “
My chin raised. I walked by her and out the bedroom door. Up the hall, into my work space. I sat in my swivel chair, flicked on the computer. “It’ll take time to boot up. No need to threaten it with a bullet too.”
Melissa snarled.
I stared at the monitor, my head still thick. Logic moved through it slowly. As far as Melissa knew, her timing was perfect. From here she’d go to the drop-off location. Get away with the money—for good.
Except that the money would never arrive.
My screen blipped on. Windows came up.
Sudden realization burned my head. What was to keep me from calling the police as soon as Melissa left?
She was lying. Again.
Melissa Harkoff would get her much-needed information. And then she would kill me.
FIFTY-EIGHT
AUGUST 2004
Melissa hesitated only a second before hurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When she hit the upper level she stopped, listening. All the TV crime shows she’d watched over the years chugged through her mind. On her left lay the master bedroom, lights on, its door wide open. Way down the hall, past two guest bedrooms and a shared bath, was her suite.
From downstairs rose the faint sound of the door between the kitchen and garage, opening and closing.
Melissa veered left.
Heart clutching, she ran across the master bedroom and into the huge bath area. Her frantic gaze scraped over the counter, taking in lotion bottles, a mirror, hairspray. Linda’s stuff.
Heat rose in Melissa’s body. If Baxter caught her here, all pretense would be off. No telling what he’d do.
Melissa yanked open a drawer. Inside it lay a man’s black comb.
She snatched it up and examined it. A few dark hairs stuck in the teeth. Perfect. She ripped off toilet paper, wrapped the comb in it, and stuck it in the waistband of her shorty pajamas.
Melissa sprinted to her room. She threw on jeans, a dark sweatshirt with zippered pockets. Shoved her feet into a pair of Vans sneakers. The wrapped comb went into her right pocket. Melissa zipped it up and ran downstairs.
In the kitchen Baxter was spreading an old blanket beside Linda’s body. The butcher knife was back in its holder.
“Did you wash it?” She pointed to the knife.
“No.”
Melissa slid it out, examined it. Looked clean. She rinsed it off anyway before replacing it.
Baxter knelt near Linda’s head. “Help me get her onto the blanket.”
Melissa sank down by Linda’s feet. Together they rolled the body onto the blanket about two feet from the edge. They both took one side of the thick fabric and folded it over Linda. Then they rolled her again, wrapping like a bulky cocoon until all the blanket was used up. Both the top and bottom had six inches of extra material.
A puddle of blood stained the floor where Linda had lain. “I’ll clean it.” Melissa stood up.
“Use paper towels. We’ll need to take them out with us.”
Baxter walked over to prop open the door into the garage. Then he disappeared out of the kitchen. Melissa heard the
She fetched a plastic grocery bag and the paper towel holder from the counter. She wiped up the blood, putting the towels in the bag. Then she wet more towels, sprayed the area with a kitchen cleaner, and rubbed and rubbed. Baxter reappeared. He watched as she got down on her knees and examined the baseboards around where Linda had fallen. When Melissa was satisfied, she put the cleaner away and stuffed all the used paper towels into the bag. She returned the paper towel holder to the counter.
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,
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
