When they got back home she’d need to wash and dry their clothes. Check their shoes.
At 4:02 Baxter pulled up to a dumpster behind a small grocery store in a still-sleepy little town. They threw away the blanket. Five minutes later they stopped at the edge of a parking lot behind a strip mall. With the washcloths they wiped down the BWM’s front seat, the doors, keys, and dashboard. Baxter then took the bloodiest paper towels from the plastic bag and pressed them around on the front seat and steering wheel. He was careful not to touch anything with his fingers.
“It won’t look like drops,” Melissa said.
“It’ll do. Blood would get smeared in a fight.”
They left Linda’s purse on its side on the floor of the passenger seat, contents spilled. Baxter hovered at the door, surveying his handiwork. With a small grunt he leaned in, took the money from Linda’s wallet, wiped the leather off, and threw the wallet back on the floor. He took her cell phone too. The keys they left in the ignition.
He stood back again, gaze roaming, calculations playing across his tightened mouth. Then he closed the door. “Let’s go.”
They probably hadn’t erased every one of their fingerprints, but it wouldn’t matter. Both of them had reason to be in that car plenty of times. Melissa gave the BMW one last glance as she slipped inside Baxter’s Mercedes. Too bad they had to sacrifice such a nice car.
Baxter started his engine and headed for Vonita.
Melissa pressed back against the seat, arms folded. Feeling a hundred years old. Baxter believed he’d never be caught becaus no one would ever suspect him in the first place. Who wouldn’t believe the king of Vonita?
Melissa couldn’t be so sure.
If things went south, if it came down to her against Baxter, she’d skate free. She’d made sure of that.
Baxter focused on the road, narrow-eyed and stiff. “I’ll say Linda left the house around eleven to buy some aspirin at the convenience store. She had a bad headache. I’d just gotten in bed. I fell asleep soon after and slept hard all night. When I woke up, she wasn’t there.”
“Any aspirin in the house right now?”
“I’ll get rid of it.”
“What about me?”
“You were in your room and heard nothing. You didn’t even know Linda had left.”
Baxter’s words spit through his teeth, as if he detested Melissa’s very presence. As if they were enemies handcuffed together. Melissa’s heart twisted. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Now that Linda was dead, why couldn’t she and Baxter be together?
Maybe he’d feel differently tomorrow. When he saw how alone he was. How much he needed her.
They entered Vonita as they’d left, through a back road that led to the house. Melissa cast worried glances at connecting streets. “What if someone later says they saw us?”
“You see anyone around?”
“No, but—”
“So shut up.”
They turned into the driveway. Baxter pressed the remote button, and they slipped into the garage. The door closed behind them, shutting them off from the rest of the world.
Baxter turned off the car. The engine ticked.
He turned to her, his stare the cold black of cave water. His expression and body were hard, brittle. Melisa gazed into those bottomless eyes and saw a truth that made her heart dry up.
Baxter Jackson would never be the same man again.
She had pushed him over a cliff, and the impact had broken him. This man before her was the glued-together version. Less stable. More volatile.
And he could barely stand to look at her.
“This is what you do, isn’t it, Melissa? Turn situations to your best advantage. Play the part, do whatever is necessary to make things come out your way. Now I see it. I see what you really are.”
Baxter’s mouth flattened. “How cool you were tonight. Poor little orphan girl, the very picture of control. Almost like you’ve done this before.” His eyes glittered as he read her soul, just as she had read his.
“You killed your mother, didn’t you?”
SIXTY-ONE
FEBRUARY 2010
Footsteps shuffled by my head. My eyes dragged half open. Through a warped tunnel I saw shoes. Legs.
I lay on my left side. My right shoulder screamed.
A malevolent presence leaned over me, breathing hard.
I froze, eyes half mast, in feigned death.
Movement toward me. Something hard pressed against my temple.
My head jerked. I rolled onto my back.
Melissa swept the gun toward my chest.
My right arm wouldn’t work. My left arm shot up and grabbed her wrist. Twisted hard.
The gun barrel jerked away from my heart toward the wall. Melissa yelled. I held on, teeth clenched. My nails dug into the tendons of her wrist.
Her hand shimmied, fingers loosening. The gun fell from her grip onto my chest. My flopping right fingers managed to knock it aside.
Something primal and raw rose within me. I yanked her hand to my mouth. Sank my teeth deep into the side flesh.
Melissa cursed and flailed at my face with her other hand. A pit bull, I would not release. I caught her free arm with my left hand and yanked her down. She stumbled and fell. Her forehead hit the arm of my office chair.
She landed on top of me with a grunt, right hand trapped beneath her, still between my teeth. Melissa screamed curses and beat my head with her fist.
My left arm stretched out across the floor, scrabbling for the gun. Melissa hit me in the temple, once, twice. Blackness swarmed in.
My fingers closed on the gun. I clutched its hardness, warmed by Melissa’s hand. I raised it high against Melissa’s ribs—and pulled the trigger.
A strangling sound wrenched from her throat. Melissa collapsed, her body half on top of me, then rolled to the floor.
My teeth released her hand. My jaw felt like concrete.
I struggled to get up. My legs were mere water. Groaning, I scooted across the floor, weapon still clutched in my left hand. I lifted it up and laid it on my desk. Fumbled for the phone.
Couldn’t…reach.
Somehow I pushed to wobbly knees. Knocked the phone off its base. Picked it up.
Gasps escaped from Melissa. She shifted on the floor.
I hit
“911, what’s your emergency?”
My tongue thickened.
“911, you there?”
“Yeah. I’m…”
“What’s your emergency?”
“I…did it.”
“Did what?”
