Read Online A Flower in the Desert by Walter Satterthwait - Free Book Online

it?”
    â€œYou had contact with Melissa during the time of the trials?”
    She shrugged. “A phone call now and then.”
    â€œWhen was the last time you saw or heard from her?”
    â€œDay before she left for South America.”
    â€œIn August?”
    She nodded.
    I asked, “You saw her or you talked to her?”
    â€œTalked to her.”
    â€œWhat was her mood like?”
    â€œAngry. Furious. Who could blame her? The court’d just told her she had to let Roy see Winona. Unsupervised visitation. Which was the last bloody thing in the world she wanted.”
    â€œShe went off to El Salvador anyway.”
    â€œThe trip’d been arranged for months. Melissa took all that charity business very seriously. Central America. Starving refugees. Trying to save the world.” She shrugged. “She should’ve spent more time trying to save herself.”
    â€œDid she suggest to you then that she might disappear when she came back?”
    â€œNo,” she said. Slowly, casually, she crossed her long legs. “Just like I told everyone else.”
    I thought she was lying. I could’ve been wrong—I often am—but behind the overly casual movement of her legs I sensed a sudden concealed tenseness, a closing off.
    â€œWho else asked?” I said.
    â€œWho didn’t? Roy. The police. That silly little detective Roy sent over. The group she was involved with, Sanctuary. Even the FBI. Twice.”
    â€œAn agent named Stamworth?”
    She nodded. “The second time. A week or two ago. He was a long cool drink of water.” She smiled. “Or at least he thought he was. I wasn’t thirsty at the time.” Her glance slid up and down my frame again, as though she were suggesting that her thirst might have increased since then.
    â€œStamworth talked to you recently? When, exactly?”
    She shrugged. “The end of September sometime. I don’t remember the exact day.”
    Why had Stamworth been asking about Melissa in September? “What did he want?”
    She frowned slightly. “Something to do with illegal aliens. I didn’t pay much attention. I didn’t care much for Stamworth. He was a jerk.”
    â€œIs Sanctuary involved with the movement of illegal aliens?”
    â€œThey’re a bit too chic for that.” She shrugged. “But I really wouldn’t know. I don’t pay much attention to do-gooders, either.” She smiled. “It’s not my style, doing good.”
    I showed her my own smile in return, the neutral one. “Did Melissa contact you when she came back to Los Angeles?”
    â€œNo.” Once again, I thought she was lying.
    â€œHow did you learn she’d disappeared?”
    â€œRoy called me and asked me if I’d seen her. The police talked to me later. Then the rest of them. It’s been a damn procession.”
    â€œDid she contact you at any time afterward?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo calls, no letters? No postcards?”
    â€œI got a card she sent me from El Salvador. A few days after she came back. It’d been delayed in the mail, obviously. From some town called Santa Isabel. Just your basic postcard. Hello, how are you, see you soon.”
    â€œNothing since?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDoes the phrase ‘ The flower in the desert lives ’ mean anything to you?”
    From her reaction, I could understand why her acting career had never gotten much past the giant bugs. She concentrated, frowning, for a beat too long before she shook her head and told me, “No.”
    And a good director would’ve told her not to pause, as she did, before she asked me, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œI was hoping you’d know.”
    She shook her head. “No. Doesn’t mean anything to me.”
    â€œRoy Alonzo claims that Melissa instigated the sexual abuse charge because she was jealous of the woman Roy was