Deceit: A Novel Part 33

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.

Linda convulsed. Her throat rattled as if it were her last breath.

Melissa jumped to her feet and out of the way. Baxter eased Linda onto her back. The rattling intensified, then turned to a gurgle.

Melissa still clutched the knife. She edged to the sink and dropped it in. From behind her came the frantic sound of Baxter's CPR. She turned to see his mouth pressed on Linda's, puffing hard breaths. His fingers pinched her nose.

Her hands shot up, desperately clawing the air as if to sc.r.a.pe oxygen from it. Her eyes were wide with terror, the eyes of a dying woman.

Baxter pulled back, chest heaving. Blood bubbled from Linda's mouth.

"No!" He wiped it away with his palm. Surged down and covered her lips again. This time her chest would barely rise, as if the air seeped out of her very pores. Baxter blew like a madman.

Sudden jealousy and anguish surged through Melissa. This was wrong. With all of Baxter's shoving Linda around, what right did he have to act like this? Not to mention the man had been in her bed just ten minutes ago. Linda had tried to kill him. Melissa had just saved Baxter's life, and now look at him. Look at him.

Huff, huff. Baxter continued his forced breathing. Melissa wanted to kick him. To scream, Stop it! She wanted to cut you open. She wanted to ruin you.

Melissa laced her fingers hard until her skin turned white. This wasn't the first time in her life she'd had to pull herself in tight to protect her own sanity. She closed her eyes and pounded her anger. Beat it down, down into fine sand granules.

In her mind she saw herself sweep the granules away.

She opened her eyes, her jaw set.

Linda's clawing arms slowed...sank to the floor.

Baxter jerked up again, frantically searching her face. Blood smeared his cheeks. "Linda? Come on."

Her windpipe gurgled and choked. One more rasp-and the awful sound cut off. Linda's facial muscles flattened. Her body relaxed.

Her eyes set in a cold, dead glaze.

Melissa's mouth opened, her throat cinched tight.

"Nnnno!" Baxter grabbed his wife's shoulders and shook her until her body bounced off the floor. "Linda. Linda!"

Curses and prayers spewed from his mouth. He slapped both hands against her chest and pumped her heart with fury. He stopped for a second, checked for a reaction. Nothing. Baxter tried again, harder.

Melissa watched him with growing dread. Linda was gone. She wasn't coming back. It was Melissa and Baxter now, and once he gave up trying to revive Linda, who knew what he might do? Silently Melissa screamed to herself that everything would be fine. Not because it looked that way, far from it. Because it had to be.

She reached deep within herself once more and crushed the fear into dust. A pale and chilling wind kicked up in her stomach, blew the dust away Baxter rocked back on his heels, begging for a breath, a flutter in Linda's chest. She didn't move. He moaned, swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Started pumping again.

Melissa turned away. The knife lay red and bloodied against the white porcelain sink. Mechanically, she picked it up. Washed and dried it. Slid it back into the butcher's block.

Behind her Baxter was crying. Grunting. Pumping.

Melissa examined her hands, beneath her fingernails, looking for blood. They were unstained.

She rinsed out the sink. Wiped it out with a paper towel. Buffed over the nearby area of granite countertop.

Baxter's weeping increased, his prayers turning off-key and mumbling. Melissa faced him, palms together and pressed against her mouth. His cheeks were splotchy red, tear tracks through the smeared blood.

He raised his hands from Linda's chest. They hovered above her body, helpless and trembling, as his eyes sought Melissa's. "She's dead." His voice pinched. He shook his head, disbelieving. Baxter's body leaned to one side until he slipped off his knees and sat down hard. His chin dropped, a sob wrenching from his throat.

Melissa moved to him and pressed her fingers into his shoulder. "Shhhh. It'll be okay."

His head jerked up. "What do you mean, it'll be okay? She's dead."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

Anger mottled Baxter's face. "You killed her."

"I-it all happened so fast."

"You killed her!"

"She was about to kill you."

Baxter's lips twisted. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Linda out of your way."

"Of course not."

"You planned this all along."

Melissa's back straightened. "No I didn't-it just happened. You're the one who drugged her."

"I didn't put a knife in her back!"

"Baxter, she was going to cut you into shreds! What did you want me to do-stand back and let it happen?"

"You did this. You killed my wife!"

Baxter leapt to his feet, greedy hands stretched for Melissa's throat. She stumbled backward, arms before her face, and swung away. He punched her in the kidney. Pain shot through Melissa's lower back. She listed to one side, gagging for air.

He hit her in the spine. Melissa crashed down on all fours, tried to scrabble away, fighting for oxygen. He kicked her in the side.

"Stop it!" She grabbed his leg. Baxter went off balance and caught the counter to stay upright. He jerked his leg to free it, but she hung on tight. Baxter lunged downward, grabbed her hair, and pulled. Melissa yanked his leg. He toppled to the floor onto his side.

The fall seemed to crack him. In seconds all his fight spilled away. He pushed to a sitting position, then slumped against a cabinet, chin nearly touching his chest.

Melissa let go of his leg and scooted beyond his reach. Her open mouth sucked in oxygen. Her whole body burned.

Baxter dropped his face in both hands and moaned.

Melissa watched warily, her muscles tensed to spring away if he turned on her again. A minute pa.s.sed.

Two...

Three.

With caution she crawled to his side. "Baxter. You know I didn't mean this to happen."

He raised his head, nostrils sucking in and out. Sweat trickled down one temple. He would not look at her. Instead he stared across the room for a long time, as if Melissa did not exist. When he finally spoke his tone had thinned to cold steel. "We have to figure out what to do." He raised a shaking hand and wiped at his cheek, further smearing the remnants of Linda's blood. Baxter's gaze raked the floor as if an answer had been cut into the hardwood.

He swallowed. "We need to call the police."

Melissa's head drew back. "No way."

He tilted his head and regarded her with disdain. "Just what do you suggest?"

"What would you tell them?"

"How about the truth? You killed my wife."

Melissa eyed him coolly. "They'll want the whole story. You want to tell them that too?"

He stared back at her, jaw tight. Calculations rippled across his face, as if the two of them had just begun a fatal game of chess.

Melissa's body throbbed.

Baxter forced his eyes to his wife's still form. "We can't claim self-defense. n.o.body's going to believe she came at me with a knife."

Melissa's control faltered. For a crazy minute she imagined herself hanging from the corner of the ceiling, looking down at the surreal scene.

She'd done it now. She'd really done it, and there was no going back. Baxter could turn against her in a heartbeat. Say she killed Linda out of jealousy, and he had nothing to do with it. If she told the police he beat his wife, they'd never believe her. Any bruises on Linda's body Baxter could attribute to her. She'd attacked Linda, hit her, knifed her. Baxter had heard the noise and come downstairs to find his wife on the floor...

Melissa's chin wavered and her lips pulled. She leaned against a cabinet and pressed both hands over her eyes. Drew her knees up to her chest. "I didn't mean to hurt her, Baxter. She was going to kill you. I couldn't let her do it!"

No response from Baxter, not one sound or movement. Melissa played out her crying. After a minute she sniffed and rubbed her eyes, knowing she was smearing her mascara. She fixed him with a dull gaze.

He met her eyes, his mouth curled. "Melissa, the girl who never cries. Not even at her own mother's funeral, so they told me."

Indignation seeped into Melissa's veins. She fought to keep it from her expression.

Wait a minute.

Baxter couldn't put Linda's death all on her. She could cry rape. Linda had caught Baxter in the act and screamed she'd tell the world. He killed her to shut her up. A medical exam of Melissa would prove they'd had s.e.x. Even if Baxter convinced them he hadn't forced her, it would still be statutory rape. His reputation would be in the dirt. The town would turn against him. His real estate business would tank.

He knew this already. He'd thought this through.

Fine then. He wanted to play chess? Bring on the game.

Melissa straightened her shoulders and looked Baxter in the eye. "What do you want from me?"

Baxter's face transformed from grieving husband to the hard ice of a glacial lake. Here was the Baxter Melissa knew. The king of Vonita, master of his castle. The man who could do whatever he thought necessary and get away with it.

He pushed to his feet. "Like it or not-and I don't-we're in this together. If one of us goes down, we both fall."

Melissa rose too. She didn't like looking up at him. "Of course we're in this together." She tinged her voice with sincerity-I' d do anything for you. Maybe, just maybe she could win him back. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

He ran a hand across his forehead. "Get dressed. In dark clothes. We have to get rid of the evidence."

FIFTY-SEVEN.

FEBRUARY 2010.

"Don't Worry, Be Happy" called to me through the quicksand. The voice echoed, mocking and full of portent. Abject fear sifted over me, caking my body.

What...?

I swam against the weight pulling me down. Broke the surface.

My eyes pried open.

Melissa Harkoff stood over me, a gun in her hand. Her mouth curled into a vengeful smile. "h.e.l.lo, Joanne."

No, this was a dream. I'd fallen asleep...

"Sit up." Her tone pierced, a shard of gla.s.s.

Reality hit. Dull adrenaline p.r.i.c.kled my limbs. I struggled to a sitting position and cringed back against the headboard.

I stared at Melissa.

She moved her jaw to one side. "You're going to tell me what I need know."

"What?" My voice shook.

"How to disappear."

My mouth moved. No words formed. My brain, my body refused to function.

Melissa smirked. "Not nice feeling helpless, is it?"

I swallowed. "I'm not helping you get away, Melissa."

"You tell me, you live. You don't help me, you die."