Melissa’s gaze roamed from me to Perry and back. “You’ll really do that?”
“Yes.”
She surveyed me a moment longer, then walked over to pick up her handgun from the bed and placed it in her purse. “Okay.”
Perry eyed her handbag. “That thing legal?”
Melissa shrugged.
“No wonder you don’t want to face the police.”
She threw him a withering look. “So where are you taking us?”
“Let’s just get out of here.” I waved a hand. “We’ll talk about it in the car.”
We gathered at the door, animosity and grudging kinship vibrating between the three of us.
“I checked around before coming to the room.” Perry kept his voice low. “There’s a stairway to our left. It leads to a side fire exit. My car’s parked right by it.”
My heart fluttered. We were really going to do this. “What if he’s out there, watching for us?”
“It’s a chance we have to take. If anything, he’s probably watching the front door. Once you’re in the car, duck down in the seat. But remember, he’s wounded. He may not be here at all. Yet. So the sooner we get going, the better.” Perry raised his eyebrows. “Ready?”
I nodded. He looked at Melissa, patted his waistband. “I have a gun too.”
He did? Maybe I should have known. Perry and his detective novels. I managed a smile.
“But we can’t go walking through the hotel with weapons drawn.” Perry pulled back the bolt latch. “Keep yours in your purse.”
He opened the door, stuck out his head, and checked both directions. Stepped out, waving us to follow. We scurried in a tight group down the hall and came to a stop at a corner. Perry peered around it, then urged us on. On our right was the stairwell. He went through the door first, peering down toward the first level. Melissa and I followed close behind.
My legs trembled. Quiet as we tried to be, our breathing seemed to echo up every level. My palms were sweating. I glanced at Melissa, saw my fear in her face.
We reached the bottom. The door sat straight ahead.
My throat dried up. An image of the gunman dressed in black flashed through my mind. He was out there, wasn’t he? The hunter waiting for his inevitable prey.
Perry pulled car keys from his pocket and put them in his left hand. Leaned in close to Melissa and me. “Once we go through the door, move fast.”
We nodded.
He lifted his shirt and withdrew his gun from its waistband holster. Inched the door open and peered outside. He glanced over his shoulder. “Now.”
Perry pushed out into the night, Melissa and I right behind. Perry’s car faced us. I scurried to the passenger front, Melissa to the rear. In peripheral vision I saw a few parked cars, a tall parking lot light. No one lurking. No gunman.
We threw ourselves inside the car. Melissa and I slid down in our seats. Perry put his gun in the console. He backed out, braked hard, and lurched forward toward the street. I sat half on the floor, the edge of my seat digging into my back, watching the streetlights slide by the window. The night sky hung starless and gray-curdled, threatening more rain.
We stopped again, then turned right. I squirmed to look over my shoulder. The hotel faded in the distance.
Perry’s eyes flicked from road to rearview mirror. He drove straight-backed, headlights from oncoming cars washing over his face. “Don’t see anyone following. But stay down.”
He went right. Then left. Right. Left. My mind flashed back to my own white-knuckled drive away from 264 Anniston. “See anybody?”
“No.”
Clothes rustled from the back seat.
“Stay down, Melissa,” Perry barked. “Don’t get up till I tell you.”
He made more turns until I lost all sense of direction. Out the window, commercial buildings gave way to houses. I could no longer hear sounds of traffic.
My legs were getting cramped.
Perry slowed. Veered right.
He exhaled a long breath, flexed his fingers against the steering wheel. “We did it.”
I wriggled up into my seat. Melissa did the same. We were on a quiet residential street, no cars around. We’d made it. I could barely believe it. We’d made it.
A prayer of gratitude breathed through my lips.
But this night wasn’t over. Far from it.
“Now what?” Melissa’s voice mixed relief and anxiety. “Where do we go?”
Perry shot me a sideways questioning look.
“Now I make a phone call.” I reached in my purse for my cell phone.
FORTY-ONE
JULY 2004
Melissa was synching Baxter’s schedule on his computer with his Blackberry when a call came in from Rex Shalling in Texas. Mr. Shalling and his wife were moving to the Vonita area and were buying a multimillion-dollar home in an upscale area. The sale would go through in a few days. It was a sale Baxter badly needed.
“Just a moment, Mr. Shalling.” Melissa put him through to Baxter.
“Hello, Rex.” Baxter leaned back in his chair. “How are things with your job transfer?”
A long pause. “I see. How wonderful for you.” Baxter’s voice held a different tone. Jovial but forced. A client wouldn’t have heard the deep disappointment. Melissa did.
She turned to watch Baxter. His shoulders slumped.
He hung up the phone and stared at it.
“Bad news?”
A moment passed before Baxter answered. “He’s ending up getting a promotion in Texas. Won’t need to move after all.” He spoke without turning around.
Melissa closed her eyes. Baxter had lucked out by being both listing and selling agent on the deal. Even after cutting his fee from 6 percent to 5, he stood to make around $140,000.
All that money—gone with one phone call.
Baxter slammed his fist against his desk. He shook his head, rubbed his temple. “I can’t believe this. What is happening with my sales?”
Melissa rose and walked over to him. Laid a hand on his shoulder. Her palm prickled. Never had she touched him like that. “I’m really sorry.”
He shrank away from her touch, his voice sharpening. “Not now, Melissa.”
She pulled her arm away, stricken.
Baxter straightened and threw a glance out the office window. No one was in the hallway. He raked his gaze up to her face. “Sorry, didn’t mean that. I just…someone might see you.”
Understanding flooded Melissa. She backed up one step and gave a tight nod. Not now, he’d said. Not now.
Baxter turned away. Melissa went back to her desk.
She blinked at her computer. What had she been doing?
The atmosphere in the office tremored. Two minutes passed without a sound. Melissa sneaked a peek at Baxter. He sat with one leg stretched out, his left arm on the desk. Staring out the window. His fingers rose and fell in a slow, silent tap.
“Melissa?”
“Yeah.”
“That was nice of you.”
She gazed at his back. How she wanted to throw her arms around him and comfort him. Hang on and not let go. He worked hard all day, and what did Linda do? Spend money. Well, let the woman shop till she dropped. Melissa wasn’t going to spend another dime. She had enough clothes for a lifetime anyway.
“No problem,” she said.
On their drive home an hour later Melissa clutched her purse in her lap, toying with its handle. There was so much she wanted to say. Not one word of it would come.
“Not now, Melissa.”
They stopped at a red light. “Don’t tell Linda about the sale falling through,” Baxter said.
“You know I never tell her what happens at work.”