Deceit: A Novel Part 27

FORTY-SEVEN.

After our initial shock over Melissa's disappearance, Dan jumped on the phone to the local police. Perry headed out to search for Melissa himself. "She couldn't have gotten far." He threw open Dan's front door and ran outside.

I stayed behind, too tired and sick at heart to hurry after him. Perry wouldn't find her anyway. She'd skulk in the dark until she was blocks from Dan's house. The police with their spotlights were more likely to locate her.

Back in Dan's kitchen I listened to him request that Hollis-ter police put out a BOLO-Be On the Look Out-for Melissa. If found, she would be arrested. They'd bring her in on the gun charge and the material witness thing. A little time in jail should change her mind about testifying against Baxter. But the fact that Melissa was on foot made the BOLO more difficult to be effective. Police wouldn't have a certain car to be searching for. Who knew what friend Melissa might call to pick her up?

"She's likely to call Tony Whistman," I told Dan as soon as he got off the phone. "The guy she just broke up with."

Dan stood in his kitchen, one hand on his hip, the other drumming his granite countertop. He looked none too happy. "You know how to contact him?"

"I have his cell number. I don't know his address, but I can find that quickly enough if you get me on a computer."

Dan reached for the phone. "I can have his name run for his address and driver's license. For now I can put some fear in him, in case Melissa's already called. What's his number?"

If Melissa had phoned Tony, he could already be on his way to pick her up. Fortunately it would take him some time to reach Hollister.

"Just a sec." I hurried to the living room and pulled my notebook from my purse. Back in the kitchen, I rattled off the number. Dan punched in the digits, then hovered over the counter, head down.

I watched him listen to Tony's phone ring. Anxiety pinged through my system like wayward electrodes. My legs threatened to give out any minute. I so needed sleep, but I wasn't about to get it now. More than that, I needed a new life. No matter what happened here, Vonita would never be the same for me.

My body wobbled. I pulled out a kitchen chair and fell into it.

Dan's head came up. "Tony Whistman?" He paused. "This is Dan Marlahn, district attorney for San Benito County. I need to talk to you about Melissa Harkoff..."

My nerves jittered and bounced-and just like that, some internal fuse blew. My mind dulled. I listened to Dan's conversation with Tony as if he spoke from the opposite end of a long tunnel. Dan warned Tony that any help he gave Melissa in fleeing would be against the law, and Dan would personally come down hard on him. "Again, Tony, understand that if she cooperates with us as a witness in this case, we will protect her and keep her safe. And free. If she doesn't, she'll face jail time herself. If you care for her, you'll do the right thing by contacting us the minute she calls you."

My eyes closed. Dan's voice faded. My head lowered...

I jerked up. My eyes blinked open, struggling to focus.

Dan was eyeing me, his phone on the counter. "He claimed she hasn't called."

I pulled in a deep breath, straightened in the chair. "Think he's lying?"

"Don't know." He sighed. "We need to get you down to the station so they can take your statement."

I nodded. "You got something to eat first? I need some energy."

"Yeah, sure." Distracted, his mind clearly running a mile a minute, Dan pulled out some lunch meat and cheese. I scarfed it down and drank two gla.s.ses of water. Then a craving for Jelly Bellies. .h.i.t. When this night was over, I was going on a serious binge.

Perry stomped in as I was eating, thoroughly frustrated. "No go." He leaned against a counter and frowned at the floor. A ticker tape of emotions scrolled across his features.

Dan made another phone call to police with three more requests. First, to alert hospital emergency room personnel in the San Jose area to contact them if a man came in with a bullet wound in the leg. Second, to tow in my car so a forensics team could go through it for fingerprints and other evidence, as well as checking for any hidden devices such as a GPS unit.

Great. Now I'd lost my car to police. No telling how long it would take to get it back.

Third, Dan sent an officer to run down a judge for a court order for Melissa's cell phone records.

"On a Sunday night?" I asked when he hung up. "Aren't you pus.h.i.+ng it with some judge?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I need to get the process started. Once I get that order, it'll still take me maybe twenty-four hours to get the records-and that's if I keep after the cell phone company. Those guys are overwhelmed with requests. They'd take days if I let 'em."

Perry looked up. "You'll track her via cell phone towers?"

"Yeah. She makes a call, we'll be able to locate her."

I left the kitchen to visit the bathroom. As I washed my hands I stared at myself in the mirror. Bags under my eyes, my mouth pulled down with tiredness. I looked like a truck hit me.

The night stretched out, long and unknowable.

Sadness bubbled up within me. I leaned over the sink, hands supporting me on either side. Forget finding Melissa, forget bringing Baxter to justice. Forget even skip tracing. I just wanted to crawl into a cave and hide. And sleep.

Dear G.o.d, please help me. I don't turn to you enough. But I really need you right now.

Guilt surfaced as soon as the prayer wafted heavenward. Melissa's cutting words rang in my ears. "The only difference between you and Linda and Baxter and me is I don't claim to be a Christian."

In the living room I pulled my cell from my purse and called Dineen.

"Where have you been?" My sister's voice thickened with sleep and worry.

"I'm fine. Safe. I'm...working on things. I'll call you later."

Perry and Dan joined me. Perry handed me my notebook. I would have left it in Dan's kitchen. The DA held the plastic bag containing the gun he'd taken from Melissa. "I'll lead you to the San Jose station in my own car," he said. "I want to be there for your statement, Joanne."

"San Jose?"

"The break-in and shooting took place in their jurisdiction."

Oh. Right.

During the drive, I leaned back against the headrest in Perry's pa.s.senger seat and closed my eyes. The lyrics to "Don't Worry, Be Happy" sludged through my brain.

"I have a theory," Perry said. "About why Baxter's suddenly gunning for Melissa after all these years."

"Mm. Why's that?"

"I think she's blackmailing him."

My eyes pried open. "Now? After six years?"

"After his second wife died in an 'accident.'"

I stared at the darkened road, the scenario sifting down inside me.

"But she didn't even know Cherisse had died."

"You sure about that?"

I thought back to when Melissa and I had first come face-to-face. "She acted like she didn't know."

"If she's blackmailing him, she surely wouldn't want you to know."

But then she'd lied to me. Or at least kept important information from me. And she wasn't just a victim...

Deep inside I sensed Perry was right. But I didn't want to believe it. If Melissa was blackmailing Baxter, what would that do to her testimony against him?

"Perry." I closed my eyes again. "You've just doubled my need for a Jelly Belly hit."

At the station, Dan and I gathered in a cramped interrogation room with Officer Harvey Slater, a blond-haired man in his midforties. The room held a single worn table and three chairs. Intimidating and overly hot, permeated with the smell of sweat. Perry cooled his heels in a waiting area. With tape and video running, I related my sordid tale-again-this time starting with my accusations toward Chief Eddington, which ended up in the Vonita weekly paper. Officer Slater and Dan questioned me like pros, dredging up details I'd forgotten to include.

As I spoke, my mind turned toward Melissa. Where was she right now? She couldn't have wandered far into the night. She would need help. Someone had to come pick her up.

Tony? A girlfriend?

"Obviously Melissa can't be trusted," I said at the end of the interview. "What if she doesn't even know where Linda is buried?"

Although if she didn't know, why was Baxter after her?

Unless it wasn't Baxter at all.

My head hurt.

Dan shrugged. "Once we pick her up we'll find out soon enough what she does and doesn't know. And we will pick her up. Once we get her cell records, all she's got to do is use that phone."

I pictured Melissa in Perry's car, urging me to tell her how to disappear. How much did she know already? "She may be smart enough to know she has to stop using it."

Dan stood up. "No matter what she knows-we know more. We'll get her."

When? Next week? Next month? A year from now? In the meantime, how was I supposed to live? Someone had followed me. Tried to kill me.

My watch read 1:45 a.m.

At the entrance to the station Dan and I met up with Perry. Dan placed his hand on my arm. "Joanne, thank you for all you've done. I know you're exhausted. Go get some sleep. I'll keep you informed."

I stared at him. "Sleep where?" I'd done all this for justice, for the police, and now Dan was just turning me loose? "I can't feel safe in my house. It doesn't even have an alarm. And I'm not about to lead any trouble to my sister's home."

The district attorney inclined his head. "I can put an officer on you. Not sure how long we can keep it up, but hopefully it won't have to be for long."

I understood just how much Dan was offering. Personal protection cost money-dollars the county didn't have.

"No need." Perry held up a hand. "She can sleep in my guestroom. I'll watch her. I've got a gun."

Dan managed a wry smile. "Legal?"

"No worries."

I shook my head. "Perry, I-"

He put warm fingers against my lips. "Hush, Joanne."

"But-"

"Hey, Dan." Officer Slater appeared around the corner, phone in his hand. "I got a Mountain View officer on the line, calling from El Camino Hospital. He just brought some guy into the emergency room with a bullet in his thigh."

I gasped, all thoughts of sleeping at Perry's house falling away.

"All right." Dan took the phone from Slater. "Hi, District Attorney Dan Marlahn here. How bad's the wound? I don't want him walking out of there."

He listened.

"What does he say happened?"

Perry and I looked at each other. Self-inflicted, he mouthed. Accident.

"Does it look self-inflicted?"

Perry smiled.

"Okay. Stay with him. Do not let him leave. I'll send somebody to get him. And make sure the doctor gives you the bullet." Dan hurried to the counter, mouthing to the officer behind it for pen and paper. "What's the guy's name?" He wrote, asked a few more questions, and wrote some more. "Great. Thanks."

Dan handed the paper to the officer. "Run this guy for me." He gave the phone back to Officer Slater. "We got lucky. This officer, Miles, makes a routine stop for speeding, runs the guy's name, and finds a slew of unpaid moving violations, plus priors. Guy's name is Edgar Trovky, from San Jose. Then Miles notices Trovky's leg bleeding through a bandage. Guy gives some c.o.c.kamamie story about shooting himself accidentally and how he's scared of hospitals and doesn't want to go. Miles doesn't buy it. He takes Trovky into custody for the unpaids, first stop-emergency room. Then he hears a boatload from the emergency doc about being on the lookout for a guy with a bullet in his thigh." Dan shook his head. "Sometimes the stars just align right."

Slater smiled. "Trovky." He thought a minute. "I think there was a Trovky on some burglary awhile back."

Dan grunted. "Can you go get this guy? I want to be present for his questioning. The bullet missed anything major. They'll get it out pretty quickly."

"Yeah, I'll go." Slater gestured with his chin toward the other officer. "I'll just wait for the rap sheet."

Officer Slater turned out to be right. Edgar Trovky's priors included jail time for a burglary, plus a couple of a.s.saults. Age forty-eight. Six feet in height and 180 pounds.

The right build for Hooded Man.

"Let me stay," I blurted to Dan. "I want to hear the interview."

"I can't let you in the room."

"Don't they have one of those rooms here where I can listen from somewhere else? Watch through a one-way window?" I knew I was pus.h.i.+ng, but I didn't care. No way could I just pack it in for the night now. "Maybe I'll think of something for you to ask him, based on what he says. Some detail I forgot to tell you."

Maybe my mind would turn to total mush, and I wouldn't think of a thing. Maybe this wasn't even our man.

The district attorney surveyed me.