I know where she is.
That was it, nothing else. No links, no attachments, just those five words. He felt oddly detached, as if he was watching somebody else create a new folder, drag the email across, because that person knew, if they knew nothing else, that it wouldn’t be the only one. It was only the beginning, the first of many. Because nobody puts the amount of effort that was behind that address into sending just one email.
Somebody was stalking him.
Chapter 14
GINA WAS JUST ABOUT to set off for college when there was an impatient knock on the door. Who the hell was that? A sudden flash of panic swept through her. Not Angel, please. She couldn’t deal with him right now, not after last night. She was sure the girls running the scam were now watching her as much as she was watching them.
She opened the door and her stomach turned over. Samantha, the older stripper she thought was the leader of the gang, was standing there, lowering the tone of the neighborhood. Chewing gum and with a cigarette between her yellow-stained fingers, she looked every bit the over the hill whore that she was. If Gina could have left by the back door, she’d have slammed the door in her face and left her on the step.
‘Morning sugar.’ Samantha gave Gina a cold smile and pushed roughly past, the smell of stale cigarettes trailing in after her.
Gina looked up and down the street but Samantha was alone.
‘I was just going out.’
‘That’s okay. This won’t take long.’ She gave Gina the plastic smile again, the one normally reserved for the paying customers. ‘It’s not what you’d call a social visit.’
The initial shock had been replaced by something much worse. Gina’s chest was tight and she had a horrible choking sensation in her throat. Not a panic attack, please, not now. She knew what this was about, but why here? She’d been expecting it, but the way she’d pictured it, the five of them would have taken her out to the back alley for a talking to—or worse.
Samantha looked around the room. The sneer that was a semi-permanent feature of her face was worse than usual, like she had a bad smell in her nose.
‘Nice place you’ve got here. But then you’re a popular girl, aren’t you? Lots of dances. And other stuff.’
There was a mocking emphasis on the other stuff. She took a long drag and flicked some ash off her cigarette onto the carpet.
Gina ignored it, she wouldn’t let it get to her. ‘Can I get you anything? Beer? Whiskey?’
The older women smiled her arid smile again. ‘Tut, tut, that’s not like you, little Miss Goody Two Shoes. Little Miss Butter Wouldn’t Melt.’
She cackled unpleasantly and flicked some more ash onto the carpet. Her eyes were cold and clear. Gina got a very bad feeling about the way this was going. Samantha was way too confident, enjoying herself too much.
‘What do you want?’
The older woman paced around the room not saying anything. Gina stopped herself from looking at her watch.
‘What do you want?’
Samantha stopped in front of her, pushing into her personal space. Gina thought she might retch at the smell of her breath. ‘It’s not what I want that’s important.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just say what you want to say and get out.’
‘It’s about what you want.’
Samantha jabbed Gina hard on the chest with her yellow-stained finger, the talon-like gel nail scratching Gina’s skin.
‘You want to stop poking your nose into things that don’t concern you.’
She took another drag on the cigarette and dropped the butt onto the floor. She looked down and ground it into the carpet then looked back into Gina’s eyes, daring her to do or say something.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
It sounded pathetic. It was as if she was back in the schoolyard being bullied by one of the bigger girls.
‘Really? I think you do.’
Samantha hammered out each word on Gina’s chest with her finger. Gina knocked her hand away.
‘I think you should go now.’
Samantha sniggered, a horrible sound. Something bad was coming. An unpleasant idea started to form in her mind. Suddenly she was very cold inside. She bit down hard on her tongue. She wouldn’t let this tramp see her go to pieces. The idea in her mind was fully formed now, she knew exactly what was coming. She made an effort to stop herself from swallowing nervously, ignoring the line of sweat that formed on her top lip.
The older woman stood watching her, the sneer on her lips, amusement in her hard eyes. ‘Not before the best part, sugar. I’ve got something to show you.’ She undid the clasp on her handbag. ‘You’re a bright girl, aren’t you? A college girl.’ She made college sound like something to be ashamed of. ‘You must have heard the saying, People who live in glass houses?’
Gina didn’t answer her. She knew for sure what was coming now. She wanted to turn and run out of the room but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. She watched in horror, her eyes wide, as Samantha pulled a large envelope out of her bag and held it out. Gina ignored it like it was radioactive. She backed away a fraction. Samantha pushed it up under her chin.
‘Take it, you prissy little cow!’ she screamed, making Gina jump backwards, jabbing it into her throat.
Something snapped inside of Gina. All the stresses of the past weeks came surging up through her, looking for a way out. She snatched the envelope with her left hand and slapped Samantha across the face with her right, giving it everything she had. What a beautiful sound it made. Samantha gasped and her head snapped sideways, a red welt forming immediately.
Even the amount of makeup you wear can’t protect you from that, Gina thought with satisfaction. Damn, that felt good.
She put her hand flat between Samantha’s unyielding, surgically-enhanced breasts and pushed her hard towards the door. Samantha staggered backwards a step, slipped off one heel and went down hard. She landed with a solid thump on her well-padded butt and swallowed her gum. Her eyes bulged and she coughed and spluttered so violently that Gina hoped she’d choke. Tears streamed down her face, her mascara running in streaks down her cheeks. She shot Gina a look of such hatred, Gina herself wouldn’t have cast it on the worst perverted old misogynist in the club. It seared the organs in her body, but she couldn’t imagine seeing a more satisfying look on her face.
‘Get out you disgusting old whore,’ Gina screamed.
She took a step towards Samantha, wishing more than anything that she’d worn shoes with a pointy toe. Samantha scrambled up and stumbled towards the door, trying to get her shoe back on. She got the door open and looked back at Gina, the hatred in her eyes mixed with something else now. Something that sucked all the exhilaration out of Gina’s body like dirty water going down a drain.
‘It’s not me who’s the whore,’ she hissed and cackled before another bout of coughing took her breath away.
Gina took a couple of fast paces across the room and gave her another hard shove, sending her sprawling onto the sidewalk, almost knocking over an old couple walking their dog. She slammed the door, shutting out Samantha and the astonished looks on the old people’s faces, then slid slowly down the wall, the crumpled envelope with its toxic contents slipping from her fingers, every last ounce of her strength gone.
***
GINA SAT WITH HER back against the wall, staring at the envelope lying next to her on the floor. She made herself take slow, deep breaths, waiting for her racing pulse to get back to normal. She was exhausted and a bit sick as the adrenalin slowly ebbed away leaving her feeling ... nothing. She was in a dead zone, like a gambler who’s lost everything he owns. Beyond panic, beyond fear, there was just an awful resignation. And freedom, of sorts. It was all over now. Time to leave, take what you can from it and move on. Don’t look back and all that clichéd garbage.
Her hand didn’t even shake as she picked up the envelope and pulled out the photograph insid
e. It was face down. She didn’t need to turn it over to know what it was. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, almost smiled at the memory.
Opening her eyes, she read the message scrawled on the back for her. It was no more than she would have expected, but it didn’t stop the tears pricking the back of her eyes.
You should have kept your mouth shut back then. You better keep it shut now.
Finally, she turned it over, hot tears running down her cheeks now and dripping off her chin onto the photograph. For some reason she couldn’t explain, she wiped them away as if she cared what happened to it.
Chapter 15
JESSE RENTED A SMALL rental car when he got to Louisville. He didn’t care what it was just so long as it had those drug-dealer-style tinted windows that everybody seemed to want. He checked into a cheap motel on the edge of town, not the trendy 21c Museum Hotel where he normally stayed. He didn’t want to risk bumping into anyone who might recognize him.
Forrest’s family had a ton of money and he knew Forrest had bought a horse farm somewhere out near Lexington, about eighty miles away. It wouldn’t take much more than an hour to get there. Ever since Evan had suggested that someone in their party might have been working with the club and set him up, the idea had stuck in his mind.
The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that he would have to talk to Forrest. What was the worst that could happen? They’d lose him as a client and he’d get fired. After the past few days living on a knife edge at home he was willing to risk it.
So, as much as he’d have loved to spend the rest of the afternoon sitting around drinking Mint Juleps, he called Forrest on his cell phone.
‘You were in the area?’ Forrest said incredulously, not bothering to disguise the disbelief in his voice. ‘What, you’re thinking of buying a racehorse?’
‘No, I just got a new job as a buyer at a glue factory. They said to call you.’
‘That kind of talk’ll get you lynched around here,’ Forrest said. ‘Seriously, what do you want?’
‘There’s some stuff I need to talk to you about.’ He dropped his voice. ‘I don’t want to do it over the phone.’
There was a slight pause before Forrest, sounding a lot more interested, said, ‘So the SEC can’t trace it you mean?’
The greedy bastard had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Let him think it. At least it would get him through the door. Forrest gave him directions to the farm, a place called Dieu Donné half way between Lexington and Richmond.
Jesse took the I-64 and then dropped down on the I-75 towards Richmond. Then he cut across onto Route 25 and entered a different world. The air was filled with the sounds of sputtering sprinklers and droning mowers, and on both sides of the road men moved steadily down the verge with strimmers, like an army platoon on patrol in some godforsaken corner of the globe. Jesse stopped the car and took in the view. As far as he could see black post and rail fences enclosed vast oceans of grass that rippled in the breeze, the road between them barely visible for all the grass cuttings that had blown onto it.
He wound down the window and breathed it all in. The grass was lush, thick and deep, extending to every horizon. Just looking at it made him feel cooler. He drove on and found Dieu Donné. You couldn’t see the house from the road, just two stone gateposts with a driveway disappearing behind great hills of grass. He turned in and crested a rise and the house came into view; a huge brick mansion with turrets on the roof built round a central courtyard with barns and a garage bigger than his house.
Forrest came out to meet him. ‘Nice car,’ he said with a smirk as Jesse climbed out of the rental. He looked around and saw the grill of a Bentley poking out of one of the garages. The air conditioning in the rental had been intermittent and Jesse was acutely aware of his crumpled pants and the sweat stains under his armpits. Nobody would try to take him for thirty thousand if they saw him now. He didn’t suppose anyone would trust him to look after their money either for that matter.
He looked around. ‘Nice place. Dieu Donné—what’s that? God Given?’
Forrest nodded. ‘Something like that. You know what they say—God helps those who help themselves.’
The smugness on his face could do with being wiped off, Jesse thought. Especially since all you did was choose the right parents.
Forrest led him through the house and out onto the terrace. He poured them both a glass of iced tea and they sat in a couple of comfortable chairs. Forrest hitched up his pants at the knee as he sat. Jesse didn’t bother. They both took in the view of the rolling countryside stretching away to the horizon.
Despite being nervous as hell, Jesse couldn’t see any point in beating around the bush. ‘I need to talk to you about that club we went to ... Chi Chi’s.’
The smug, self-satisfied look that was usually a permanent fixture on Forrest’s face was replaced by a mixture of surprise and annoyance. ‘I thought this was about something important.’ He made no attempt to hide the irritation in his voice. ‘Something you couldn’t talk about over the phone.’
Jesse studied his face as he talked. The annoyance might just be the reaction of a spoiled brat on finding out he’s not about to make another killing. Maybe he thought Jesse had tricked him. Maybe the name Chi Chi’s had set off an alarm and this was a conversation he didn’t want to have.
‘It is.’ Jesse forced a smile. ‘It’s just not what you thought it was.’
Forrest sipped his drink and looked away. He took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. So much for eye contact.
The silence stretched out. Forrest didn’t seem to be in any hurry to say anything.
Jesse cleared his throat. ‘I got really drunk that night. I can’t remember half of what happened.’
Forrest’s attitude softened slightly. A small smile appeared on his lips. ‘You did seem to be on something of a mission,’ he agreed. ‘What can’t you remember?’
Jesse was about to say what a stupid question when Forrest said, ‘It’s a joke.’ His expression said he wouldn’t be trying another one with someone as dumb as Jesse. ‘Obviously you don’t know what you can’t remember. What do you remember?’
‘I remember going to the club and a couple of girls coming over. Someone in our party seemed to know them. I remember the other guys leaving and it was just you and me.’
He pretended to think hard about it as if he hadn’t gone over it a million times in his mind already. Then he shrugged. ‘That’s about it.’
Forrest leaned away from him and looked at him in a way that suggested he was having trouble believing what he was hearing.
‘You don’t remember taking off your pants and dancing on the stage?’
Jesse choked on his drink. It went down the wrong way making him cough and splutter. He looked over at Forrest. His face was completely deadpan.
‘You want to see the photos?’ Forrest asked.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and pretended to search for the images but couldn’t keep his face straight.
‘You should see your face.’
Jesse might have seen the funny side of things if it wasn’t for the fact that it was all a little too close to home for comfort.
‘Don’t be such a sourpuss.’
Jesse let him finish enjoying his little joke.
‘So what did I do? Seriously.’
Forrest eyed him like he still didn’t believe him. Perhaps he thought Jesse was trying to catch him out in some way.
‘You went off into a private room with two of the girls and didn’t come back. I got bored waiting so I left.’
‘How long was I gone?’
Forrest gave a small, noncommittal shrug. ‘No idea. I waited for half an hour then headed home’
‘You didn’t think it was unusual?’
‘No. Why would I? That’s why people go to those clubs in the first place. They’d be out of business if it wasn’t for out of town sa ... guys looking for a bit of fun.’
Forrest had covered his slip pretty well but Jesse had caught it. He’d been about to say saps. He was sure of it. But was it just because he didn’t want to be rude or was he referring to something more specific?
‘So you don’t go there much?’ He tried to make it sound casual but to his ears it sounded like his life depended on the answer.
Forrest gave him a searching look like he was trying to decide who this was really all about. ‘Not really. A couple of times a year, maybe.’
He turned to face Jesse and took off his sunglasses. What was this? Some kind of Look at my eyes, I’m telling God’s truth double bluff?
‘What’s this about, Jesse? You weren’t in the area and nobody flies all the way down here to ask about a drunken night in a strip club? We could have done that on the phone.’
His voice was calm and reasonable, the soft tone telling Jesse that everything was alright, he was here now, he’d stop it hurting. Just tell Uncle Forrest all about it.
Jesse didn’t know what to say. He swallowed the last of his tea in one gulp. His mouth was dryer than a popcorn fart. If he was going to tell Forrest the whole truth, now was the time to do it. Forrest was sitting forward in his chair with his forearms resting on his knees and his best You can trust me look on his face.
‘I think I was drugged.’
Chapter 16
‘ARE YOU SERIOUS?’ Forrest asked after a moment’s silence.
‘Never more so.’
Forrest shook his head in amazement. ‘What makes you think you were drugged?’
‘Well, apart from losing half an evening, some helpful bastard sent me some photographic reminders.’
The shock on Forrest’s face seemed genuine. What he didn’t see was any hint of sympathy. ‘That’s why you were such a sourpuss when I was joking about the photos earlier. A bit too close to home.’
Jesse nodded. ‘You weren’t to know.’
He studied Forrest for ... he didn’t know what. Something. Anything. He was no good at this. Forrest might have been lying his face off and he wouldn’t be able to tell. Forrest was looking a lot more interested now.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 29