“How’d you get my phone number?” Suspicion nicked her tone.
“We always ask for the addressee’s number, just in case something like this happens.”
I rubbed a hand across my forehead. It came away wet.
“Oh.” Melissa was silent a moment. “What is it?”
“What’s in the package? I have no idea. I just work for the delivery service.”
“I don’t know why they’d be sending me anything.”
“Miss Harkoff, do you want the package or not?”
“I don’t…What is that noise?”
I threw a look out the windshield and winced. “It’s raining hard. This building’s roof sounds like tin.”
Melissa paused. “I used to work at Whidbye.” She spoke the words as if thinking out loud.
“Maybe they’re sending you some personal items you left. Who knows? What’s your address, please?”
Silence.
“Miss Harkoff, I don’t have all day.”
“When will I get it?”
“Today, if you’ll just tell me where to deliver it.”
She breathed a sigh, indecision wafting over the line. I wanted to reach across cyberspace and pull the information from her tongue. Come on, Melissa.
“Okay. It’s 264 South Anniston. In San Jose.”
I grabbed my pen. “Two-sixty-four South Anniston.” I jotted it down on the yellow pad. “Will you be home?”
“Why would you ask that?”
Not good. “If you’re not home, is there a porch to leave the package on, where it’ll be safe from the rain?”
“Oh. Yeah. And I’ll be there to get it in a couple hours.”
A couple hours. It would be nearing sunset by then.
“Fine. I’ll try to get it on the right truck for you today. If I can’t, then look for it on Monday.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
I hung up and closed my eyes. My heart galloped like some runaway colt. For a few minutes all I could do was breathe. The car felt so hot. I cracked the passenger window open, ignoring the fat splashes that punched onto the seat.
Thank God. I’d found Melissa.
I felt no elation, only sick relief.
The hardest part lay before me.
No wonder Melissa had kept quiet for six years. If Baxter wanted to silence me just because of that newspaper article, imagine how he’d threatened her. How in the world could I ever convince her to go public now? She’d take one look at me and run.
A couple hours, she’d said.
My insides trembled. No way could I confront Melissa in this weakened state. I needed food. And a lot more than that. I needed a plan that would save my life.
TWENTY-NINE
JUNE 2004
Melissa’s epiphany the night of the dinner party grabbed onto her and wouldn’t let go. The next day in church, while the pastor’s sermon droned on—something about real love versus false—Melissa’s mind fixed upon her new goal to make something of her life, starting now. And thanks to information from Baxter she’d overheard at the party, she had the perfect idea of how to go about it.
After church Nicole asked if Melissa wanted to hang out on Wednesday. “A bunch of us are going to go to a movie or something. Want to come?”
Melissa gave her a wide smile. “Oh, thanks. Maybe I can. But I need to check with Linda first. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Truth was, she needed to check with Baxter.
She hit the subject head-on in the kitchen as the three of them sat down to eat chicken salad and fruit for lunch. No use looking hesitant. That wouldn’t get her anywhere.
“Baxter, I want to come work in your office.”
Linda’s eyebrows raised. She slid a look at her husband. Baxter stopped chewing for a moment, then swallowed. “Oh, yeah? You want to learn about real estate?”
“Yes. I’ll help you do anything you need. You don’t have to pay me. You do enough for me already. I want to pay you back somehow. And in the meantime I’ll learn.”
Baxter shook his head. “You don’t have to pay me back for anything, Melissa. You don’t have to pay either of us back.”
His final sentence zinged through her nerves. Melissa forced herself not to look away. Had she singled him out too much over Linda?
“That’s right, you don’t.” Linda patted her arm.
Melissa put down her fork. “Okay, I don’t, but I want to. I’ll still help you all I can in the house, Linda. But during the day I don’t want to just hang out with friends. I want to do something, learn something. I have to find a way to make my own living some day.” Her gaze dropped, and she traced a finger on the edge of her plate. “I mean, until I came here I had to fight just to survive, you know?”
Silence. She sensed Baxter and Linda exchanging glances, but she didn’t look up.
“Well.” Baxter cleared his throat. “I think we can work something out.”
Melissa’s head jerked up. “Really?” Excitement filled her voice.
He nodded. “Just so happens I lost my office assistant on Friday. I asked our guests last night if anyone knew someone to take her place, but then we got off on some other subject.”
“You’re kidding. That’s perfect! I mean, I’m sorry you lost her, but…”
Baxter smiled. “You don’t look sorry.”
“Okay, I’m not.” Melissa smiled back. “But I’ll make you glad she’s gone. I’ll work twice as hard. And for free!”
“Melissa. I’m not going to have you work for free.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to be paid, really. You buy me so many clothes already—”
“Who buys you the clothes?” Linda’s mouth curved.
Was that a tease or a dig at being overlooked? “Oh, you do, of course. I meant you as in both of you.”
“Actually”—Baxter’s eyes cut to Linda as he slid his fork into his chicken salad—“I buy the clothes.”
Linda shifted in her chair, her shoulders pulling in. Her whole body seemed to tighten, even as she aimed a forced smile at her husband. Carefully she cut a slice of pineapple on her plate and put it in her mouth.
A memory struck Melissa of herself at three and her mother, for once sober. Playing the “hidey” game. Melissa thought if she covered her eyes in the middle of the room, no one could see her. “No, stupid,” her mother said. “If you’re not hiding your whole body anyone can see you.”
But people hid all the time in plain sight, didn’t they?
“So can I start tomorrow?” Melissa leaned forward. “What will I do?”
Linda took another bite of pineapple.
“Yes, you can start tomorrow.” Baxter sipped his water. “This is an unlicensed assistant position, which means there are certain things you can’t do. You can’t relate real estate information to clients. But you can run off flyers, maybe even learn to compose them. You can answer my phone and set up some of my appointments. You can call selling clients and set up open houses for their listings.”
Anticipation welled within Melissa. “That sounds great! How many hours do I get to work?”
Linda concentrated on her plate, vibrations rolling off her like cold waves. Melissa hadn’t counted on this idea driving a wedge between her and Linda. What might this cost her?
In the end, did it matter? Baxter was the one in power.
“Let’s wait and see,” Baxter said. If he noticed Linda’s reaction at all he didn’t show it. “Don’t want to wear you out too quickly. It means you’ll have to get up in the morning. Linda can bring you in around nine.”
“When do you go? I can just ride with you.”