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"Yeah what?"
"Another ten thousand."
"Twenty thousand dollars all together."
Trovky lowered his forehead into his palm. "Me and my girlfriend need that money, man."
Dan and Slater exchanged a look.
"You get paid any up front?" Slater wanted to know.
"Half of it."
"Ten thousand? Five for each hit?"
"Yeah."
"Cash?"
"Yeah."
"When was this?"
"Thursday."
Slater tapped his bottom lip. "So you said Baxter called you tonight with a change of plans."
Trovky winced and s.h.i.+fted his wounded leg. "These chairs are hard."
"We'll try to wrap up here quick as we can, but there are still a lot of things we need to go over. You need something to drink?"
"You got c.o.ke?"
Dan left the room and returned with a can of c.o.ke.
The DA kept a poker face as the questioning about Baxter's schemes against Melissa's blackmail continued. But I knew from the tilt of his body, his knuckles brus.h.i.+ng the edge of the table, that his mind whirled. Blackmail was illegal. His star witness had just dulled considerably. Even if he did find Melissa, if she did lead him to Linda's body, this was going to be one huge mess to sort out.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. Had all I'd lived through in the past thirty hours been for nothing?
"So now when's this drop-off payment supposed to take place?" Slater asked Trovky.
"Ten o'clock Monday morning."
Six hours from now.
"And you're supposed to watch the site and take out Melissa when she comes to pick up the money?"
Trovky's eyes pinged from Slater to Dan. "Yeah."
"You know when she's coming?"
"Nope. I was just supposed to wait till she showed up."
"What about Joanne Weeks?"
The suspect shrugged. "He said we'd talk about that later."
Later. Baxter still planned to kill me.
By the time the whole tale had unraveled, it was 5:00 a.m. My second full night without sleep. Zombie didn't begin to describe me.
Dan and Slater stepped out of the interrogation room for a moment, leaving a sullen Trovky inside. I met them in the hall as they conferred in low tones, Perry at my side. "You're going to arrest Baxter now, right?"
Perry touched me on the shoulder. "Joanne-"
"We need more on him," Dan said. "We want to be absolutely sure the charge of solicitation of murder sticks."
"What about murdering his wife?"
Slater shrugged. "That comes next, once we've discovered the body. Hopefully one thing will lead to another. But we have to catch Melissa."
"You will now. You can just watch the drop-off point for her, right?"
"That's the plan."
"So then you'll have Baxter in custody, and Melissa will have to talk." I looked from the officer to the DA, gripping my upper arms. I so wanted to believe everything was going to work out.
"Baxter won't talk," Slater said. "He'll lawyer up the minute we start asking questions."
"So you'll just let him go?"
Slater sizzled me with a look. The press of his mouth and hardness of his eyes betrayed his own tiredness. He'd been up all night questioning a witness, and he didn't need some uppity woman telling him what to do. Dan put both hands on his hips. The overhead light played up the circles beneath his eyes. "Joanne, why don't you go get some sleep? There's nothing more you can do here."
"Why can't you-"
"We'll handle this, okay?" Slater thrust his face at me. "Dan's right. You should go home."
My jaw tightened. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't have a safe home to go to until Baxter's off the streets."
"Whoa, both of you." Dan held up his hands.
Perry squeezed my arm, nudging me away. I would not be moved.
"Okay, let's just ease off." The DA gestured toward the room where Perry and I had sat. "You want to stay here awhile longer, fine. Just...you've done all you can now, Joanne. It's time to let us handle this thing."
That was a little too hard. And I was a lot too tired. This thing meant my life.
I would not rest until I saw Baxter Jackson in handcuffs.
FIFTY-ONE.
AUGUST 2004.
With Baxter in Melissa's room, time flipped into warp speed. The outside world didn't matter. When Melissa happened to glance at her clock again it read 1:35 a.m.
Baxter followed her gaze and sighed. "I need to go."
He slid from bed and started rooting around the floor for his clothes. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating the room in a pale haze. Baxter picked up Melissa's pajamas and tossed them to her. She slipped them on. He stood and ran a hand through his hair.
"We're going to be tired tomorrow."
She smiled. "You saying it wasn't worth it?"
"I-"
A knock hit the door.
They froze. Melissa stared at Baxter in horror.
"Quick," she whispered, "get in the closet."
He came to life. With long, quiet strides he scurried toward the walk-in, edged inside, and pulled the door closed.
Another knock. Louder this time. The handle turned back and forth.
Melissa cast a frantic look around the floor, searching for anything Baxter may have left behind. The rug was empty.
She clamped down inside, calming herself. "Yeah?" Her voice came out sleepy and thick.
"Unlock the door, Melissa."
Heart beating in her throat, Melissa padded across the room. She turned the lock and opened her door to a lit hallway, her eyes squinting against the light. Linda stood in her pajamas, hair mussed and circles beneath her eyes.
Melissa frowned. "What's going on?"
"Have you seen Baxter?"
"Baxter. No. What do you mean?"
"He's gone." Linda's voice edged. "I can't find him."
"Did you look downstairs? Maybe he can't sleep."
"I've looked everywhere." Linda leaned forward, peering past Melissa into the room. Suspicion etched her forehead.
"Is his car here?"
"Yes, I checked."
Melissa ran a hand across her eyes. "Well, I don't...do you want me to help you 1-?"
"Is he in here, Melissa?" The question came hard, brittle.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Why would he be in here?"
Linda shot her a twisted look of grief and fury. "When I came back up the stairs I thought I heard voices."
"In here? No way, I was sleeping."
Linda pulled herself up straight. Her bleary eyes looked deep into Melissa's. "Open the door all the way. I want to see inside the room."
"What? What's wrong with you?"
"Open the door!"
Melissa lifted her hand in an annoyed gesture and stood back. Linda swept past her into the bedroom. The woman strode to the middle of the carpet, turning her head right and left, shooting penetrating looks in the dim illumination from the hallway. She thrust a hand in her hair, then stumbled over to check on the other side of the desk, the dressers.
"Linda, what are you looking for?"
A moan escaped from Linda's throat. For a moment she drew up, disoriented, as if waking from a surreal dream. Then she hurried around the foot of the bed and to the other side, checking the floor between it and the wall.
Not a sound from the closet, a mere eight feet away from where Linda stood. Melissa pictured Baxter inside, taut-necked and holding his breath.
"Come on, Linda." Melissa gestured toward the hall, her tone low and patient, as if cajoling a child. "We need to go through the house. What if Baxter's hurt somewhere? We have to go look."
"If he's hurt, let him lie there." Linda's words flattened. "I hope he is hurt."
Melissa swallowed. Just what had Baxter drugged Linda with-truth serum? "I hear you. I felt that way about my mom lots of times."
Linda raised her chin and fixed a sickened and weary look upon Melissa. "You have no idea how I feel." She swayed.
"Okay, that's it." Melissa hurried toward her. "I'm getting you back to bed before you fall over. I'll look for Baxter."
Linda's gaze cut left and glued itself on the closet door. Melissa saw the horrifying thought ripple across her face. Melissa reached for her arm, but Linda yanked away from her and veered drunkenly for the closet.
"What are you doing?" Melissa leapt after her, grabbed the back of her pajamas.