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 k.n.o.b. 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 s.p.a.ces."
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 p.r.i.c.kled 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.
An eternal, heart-stopping moment followed. Had Baxter somehow known we were coming and slipped away?
The front door opened. Baxter appeared, hand on the doork.n.o.b.
A rush of air escaped my mouth. I leaned forward, clutching the dashboard, and riveted my eyes upon him.
Baxter Jackson looked nothing like the king of Vonita now. Nothing like the respected head elder at church. His clothes were rumpled, his usually perfect hair out of place. Lines etched his face, as if he hadn"t slept.
Slater spoke. I couldn"t hear the words, but I knew he was informing Baxter of his arrest.
Baxter"s face turned wooden. He looked from his old friend Chief Eddington to Officer Slater. His hand slipped from the door, fell to hang limply at his side.
Slater took hold of Baxter"s arm and nudged him outside. Then turned him around and snapped cuffs on him.
In my mind I saw Linda lowering her shirt. "I didn"t get those bruises by running into a door."
My hand fumbled for the car door. I opened it.
As they escorted Baxter down his own steps to Slater"s waiting car, I got out of Perry"s SUV and moved to stand by the hood. Arms folded. Like a soldier. Watching.
Baxter caught my movement. His head turned toward me. For a blazing moment our eyes met.
His head jerked away, his mouth twisting.
The last six years rushed over me. In that split second they were all worth it-every day I"d pounded walls because of Baxter, every minute I"d suffered. His expression said, You win, Joanne. I lose. And I"ll hate you to my dying day for it.
Good, Baxter. That"s just fine by me.
Slater put Baxter in his back seat. Shut the door.
The evidence team entered Baxter"s house.
I didn"t move until the three vehicles circled around the gracious driveway and turned onto the street, headed for the police station.
FIFTY-FOUR.
AUGUST 2004.
Melissa froze. The sudden light in the closet shown harshly on Baxter, crouched in the back.
Linda stilled, her hands up in front of her, fingers spread. She gaped at her husband as if he were some ghastly apparition.