Nothing would be the same after this night, nothing. “You’re not going to win this, Linda,” Melissa spat. “Two against one.”
Linda sneered at her husband. “How cute. Now you have a sixteen-year-old protecting you. Were you that helpless in bed too?”
Baxter’s eyes shot fire. He lunged at his wife.
“No!” Linda carved the knife through the air. Baxter dodged to one side. The blade whooshed inches from his arm.
Melissa darted for the butcher’s block and yanked out a carving knife.
Baxter whipped upright and leapt for Linda again. She cringed to her right, fell into the counter. Her clenched hands sank, but she fought to keep hold of the knife. “Stay aw—”
Her husband balled a fist and smashed it into her cheek. Bone crunched. Linda’s head ricocheted. Her eyes flattened.
Linda’s stubborn hands thrust the butcher knife upward. Baxter swung away.
Melissa darted behind Linda, her own blade raised.
Keening moans spilled from Linda’s lips. She staggered a step toward Baxter, knife swinging. Her cries climbed higher, higher, until Melissa’s brain would explode with the sound.
Baxter jumped to the side and hit the stove. Linda closed in, screaming like a madwoman sacrificing on the altar. She raised her blade high, pointed down.
Melissa gritted her teeth, jumped behind Linda, and plunged the carving knife deep into her back.
The scream cut off with a gasp. Linda’s head rolled to one side, almost in slow motion. The butcher knife clattered to her feet. A strangling sound rose in her throat.
Melissa pulled shaking fingers from the knife handle.
Linda slumped to the hardwood floor.
FIFTY-FIVE
FEBRUARY 2010
Perry offered again to let me sleep in his guest room. He needed to get to his store, so I’d still be alone. “But maybe after all that’s happened you’ll feel safer at someone else’s place,” he said.
We’d just driven away from the Jackson house. I’d looked back twice, still seeing that hate-filled expression on Baxter’s face.
Justice, Linda. You’re finally going to have justice.
“Perry.” I squeezed his arm. “Thanks. But now that it’s done, I just want to sleep in my own bed—while I can.”
Dan and Slater were going to fight against bail for Baxter, but they couldn’t guarantee they’d win—especially if plans went awry and they didn’t bring in Melissa right away. Until she led them to Linda’s body and testified before the grand jury, they couldn’t add the charge of Linda’s murder to those Baxter currently faced.
If Baxter got out on bail, I would not be spending nights alone in my own house.
Perry gave me a wan smile. He looked tired too. “I understand. Check in with me when you wake up?”
“Count on it.”
On the short drive to my house I called Dineen. No answer. She was probably in the shower, getting ready for work. “It’s done,” I told her message machine. “Everything’s okay. I’m going to sleep now. Call you when I wake up.”
Perry insisted on coming into the house with me just to make sure all was well. As we walked past Billy Bass in the hall, the stupid thing went off. I nearly jumped to the ceiling. Perry watched Billy’s performance, chuckling. “I haven’t seen one of these things in years.”
I looked from him to Billy Bass, sudden awkwardness floating around in my chest. I rubbed my arms. “It was Tom’s.”
Perry gave me a long, searching look. Then nodded.
I turned away and made for the Jelly Belly drawer in my office. Popped a handful of myriad flavors onto my tongue and chewed like there was no tomorrow. My jaw seemed to move in slow motion.
“Want some?” I asked Perry, my mouth full.
He shook his head. “It’s more fun just watching you.”
At the front door I hugged him, and he held me for a moment, chin resting on my head. He smelled slightly of men’s lime soap, even though we’d been up all night. His arms around me felt so…good. I didn’t want to let him go.
“I’ll never thank you enough, Perry.”
“Nah. It was nothin’. You need me again—‘Help Is on Its Way.’” He raised his eyebrows.
My brain wouldn’t work. “Chicago?” The tune played through my head. “No. Little River Band.”
“What album?”
“Greatest Hits.”
“Cheater.”
“I gotta get to bed.”
Perry smiled. “Next time, no excuse.” He stepped outside.
I closed the door and locked it.
On someone else’s legs I walked down the hall, into my room. I didn’t even take my clothes off. Just fell onto the bed. Vaguely I registered the time on my nightstand clock. Seven-forty in the morning. I’d been up for forty-eight hours.
As much as I needed sleep, my rebellious body fought it. Maybe it just didn’t remember how to rest.
I lay on my back, eyes closed, thinking of Melissa and Linda and Baxter. Wondering how all this would play out. Finding Melissa. The hearings, the trial.
So…
very…
much…
to…
The quicksand pit opened up, inviting. I stepped into it. And sank…
Sank…
As it opened its mouth to swallow me, Billy Bass started to sing.
FIFTY-SIX
AUGUST 2004
Melissa couldn’t move. She stared at Linda’s body, the blood leaking from the wound in her back. Linda lay on her side, fighting to breathe. Her eyes were at half-mast, her twitching hands outstretched. The butcher knife lay on the floor near her fingers.
Did I do that? Did I really stab her?
Baxter pulled himself upright, eyes wide. He gaped at Linda, all color draining from his face. Twice he blinked, as if to erase the nightmare before him. “No. No.”
He fell on his knees beside his wife. One of his hands knocked the butcher knife away. It scudded across the floor. Shaking, Baxter reached for Linda’s shoulder. “Linda, can you hear me? Linda!”
Her mouth yawed open, creaking in air.
“She’s not breathing enough. I have to give her CPR!” Baxter started to roll Linda on her back, but the knife still stuck out of her, angled high and to the left of her spine.
Had it gone all the way to her heart?
Baxter ogled the knife, helpless.
Linda wheezed and gasped. The horrifying sounds shot right through Melissa. She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to think.
“Can you do it while she’s lying on her side?”
“No!”
“Try it.”
“It won’t work!”
“Try it!”
“Melissa, it won’t work.” Panic gripped Baxter’s face. “We have to breathe hard. If her heart stops we’ll have to pump it.”
“Then take out the knife.”
Baxter’s mouth worked, as if the mere thought made him sick. “I—can’t. What if it hurts her more?”
Something hard and heavy settled within Melissa. Her mind cleared. “Hold her steady. I’ll do it.”
“I don’t—”
“Baxter, just do it!”
Air rattled in and out of Linda’s throat. Her eyes were now wide open and fixed, her skin beige.
Baxter crawled on the other side of Linda, facing her. One bracing hand slid behind her shoulder, the other at her lower back. He turned his head to the side, squeezed his eyes shut.
Melissa sank to her knees and grasped the knife handle with both hands. She pulled hard. It slid out with a nauseating, sucking sound.