The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets)

by James, Harper

  Evan took hold of his shoulders, partly to stop him doing any damage to the car. ‘So what did you do? Apart from not talking to me so we could work something out.’

  Jesse pulled away from his grip and ran through the events of the past couple of days, starting with his meeting with Forrest Jnr and ending up tied to the chair in the downstairs room at Chi Chi’s. Evan listened in silence until he got to the bit about the chair with no seat. He couldn’t help smiling at that.

  ‘What? Like in James Bond?’

  Jesse had turned a shade paler just describing it. He nodded. ‘He had some bolt cutters, for Christ’s sake. And a scalpel.’

  ‘They were just trying to scare you. They wouldn’t have actually done it.’

  ‘That whore would have. I saw it in her face. She was actually licking her lips.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘One of the strippers. She’s older than the rest of them. Ugly cow.’

  He described Samantha to him.

  ‘I think I know who you mean.’ Evan’s mind went back to the club the previous night. ‘She was watching me talking to Gina.’

  ‘Who the hell’s Gina?’

  ‘The girl I told you about. The one who’s come forward and talked to the police.’

  The one who’s doing the right thing here.

  ‘Oh, her.’ His tone was so dismissive, Evan wanted to punch him. Something crossed Jesse’s mind.

  ‘You—’

  Evan put his hand up to stop him. ‘Let me think for a minute.’ All the connections were clear to see in his mind. The question was, did they have all the pieces? ‘I think this is getting too risky for Gina—’

  Jesse’s eyes bulged. ‘For Gina! What about me?’ he shouted, jabbing his chest with his thumb.

  Evan took a deep breath and ignored him. He needed to do something with his hands to keep them away from Jesse’s throat. He raised his hand and counted off the points on his fingers.

  ‘The older woman’s called Samantha. One, she’s already suspicious of Gina for snooping around to the point of blackmailing her—’

  ‘Blackmailing her? How?’

  ‘You don’t need to know.’

  Jesse put his fists on his hips. ‘Really? I think you’re forgetting why you’re here in the first place.’

  Evan shook his head. There was no way to deal with a prick like Jesse. He gritted his teeth. ‘I said you don’t need to know.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  Evan stared at Jesse, gave him his best withering look and carried on.

  ‘Two, she saw me with Gina in the club. Three, you go barging in, as good as wearing a sandwich board saying We’re gonna put a stop to your little game—’

  Things suddenly fell into place for Jesse. His eyes opened wide. ‘All they need is a connection between me and you and everything fits together nicely.’

  They looked at each other, the animosity of a few seconds ago forgotten.

  ‘The phone call,’ they both said.

  ‘Shit,’ Jesse said.

  For once, Evan couldn’t have put it better.

  ‘If they find out I’m not some minion at your office,’ Evan said, ‘they’ll know you lied to them. They’ll dig a bit deeper—it’s not exactly difficult with the internet—and find out what I really do for a living and put two and two together.’

  He thought for a moment.

  ‘Is there any way you can get your office to say I work there but I’m unavailable?’

  Jesse looked at him as if Evan had just asked for a quick blow job on the back seat of the car.

  ‘That’d go down really well. I can just imagine at the next executive meeting, the CEO saying I hear young Springer’s got into a spot of trouble with some nasty people. Shall we get involved and help bail him out or just fire his sorry ass?’

  ‘Then I think it’s just a matter of time before they’re onto us.’

  ‘That’s why I want out,’ Jesse said. He held up his hands. ‘I admit it, they scared me witless. It worked. I’m yellow through and through. I don’t care. I’m going to pay the thirty grand and hope Diane didn’t find that photo.’

  ‘What if she did?’

  ‘I’ll deal with that if and when it happens. That’s a lot less real than a crazy, fat greaseball with bolt croppers.’

  ‘What if they send the photos to your office?’

  Jesse shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter what you say, Evan. I’ll take my chances with what might happen. I can always get a new job. A new wife if it comes to it. It’s a lot harder to grow a new set of balls.’

  Evan let out a loud snort. He was tempted to say Jesse had already demonstrated beyond all reasonable doubt that he didn’t have any in the first place.

  ‘It’s not just about you now, Jesse.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘They’ll make the connection. They won’t know you’ve dropped it—unless you were thinking of writing and telling them—and they’ll deal with the half of the problem that’s at their end. Gina.’

  Jesse put his hands on his hips again and shook his head. ‘I can’t be worrying about some stupid stripper. Anyway, you said she’d been snooping for a while. She was in trouble long before I showed up.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Evan nodded. ‘But then you waded in and made it ten times worse for her.’

  ‘It’s not—’

  ‘Shut up, Jesse,’ Evan said and prodded him in the chest. ‘Up until you started acting like the Lone Ranger they’d probably have left it at the blackmail. Now she’s a serious problem to them. One that can’t be ignored any longer.’

  ‘You’re saying it’s all my fault now, are you?’

  Evan shook his head to try to clear the feelings of disgust and anger that were building inside him. If he didn’t put a lid on it, he’d be swinging at Jesse next. ‘I can’t believe what a selfish bastard you are Jesse.’

  Now it was his turn to slam his palm down on the car roof.

  ‘Tell you what. Forget you ever called me. Forget the fee. I’m going to work with the people on this end and sort this out. You run along home to Diane.’ He gave Jesse an unpleasant little smile. ‘If she hasn’t found that photo, that is.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Whatever it takes. Talk to some people—’

  ‘What people?’ Jesse said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, bit his bottom lip. ‘I don’t want you running around down here talking to people who might know me.’

  Evan shrugged and opened his hands in a what-can-you-do sort of way. ‘It’s not up to you any more, Jesse. You’re not calling the shots. You’re either in or you’re out. We’re not doing the hokey pokey here.’

  Evan could almost see Jesse’s mind working away, trying to find a way to control the situation without any risk to himself.

  ‘What’s it going to be, Jesse? Yes or no?’

  Jesse didn’t say anything. His face twisted into a sullen scowl, a vein throbbing on the side of his jaw from clenching his teeth so hard. His legs were planted wide, his fingers flexing. Bring it on, Evan thought—he’d had just about had enough of Jesse’s me, me, me attitude. If he took a swing at him, he’d hit him right back, client or not. They stood staring at each other like a pair of overgrown boys in the schoolyard. Jesse tried to hold Evan’s eyes but couldn’t. He looked away. Maybe he’d suddenly realized his whining had aroused a capacity for violence in Evan that he’d never suspected was there. He turned and walked back to his car and drove off. Evan thought he saw a middle finger raised in farewell but he couldn’t be sure with the glare of the sun glinting on the rear window.

  I’ll take that as a no, he thought as he walked back to his own car.

  Chapter 33

  SAMANTHA CAUGHT D’AMATO JUST as he was leaving the club. He took one look at her face and came back inside. ‘What now, for Christ’s sake?’

  She gave him a self-satisfied little smile and told him about what she’d just
seen.

  ‘See,’ he said, ‘the guy’s scared to death. I told you. Shame he didn’t get hit by the truck though. That would’ve been a piece of luck.’

  ‘If only it was that simple.’

  Not for the first time, he got the feeling she enjoyed trouble and bad news—giving it to him that is. She was one of those people who aren’t happy unless there’s something bad going down in their lives. Always have to have someone to hate. She gave him a headache—talked so much she’d give aspirin a headache. He sighed wearily. Sometimes he wondered if it had been worth starting all this.

  ‘So tell me. Stop prolonging the agony.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure the guy in the other car was the same guy I saw Gina talking to last night. I said she was trouble. She—’

  He held up a hand to stop her. ‘What? Just talking to her?’

  She shook her head vigorously. She was definitely enjoying this. He made a mental note to pass everything she said through the over-the-hill-jealousy filter.

  ‘No, they were arguing. He said something and she walked away in a hurry.’

  ‘Maybe he asked for a bit of ...’ He gripped an imaginary pair of hips and thrust his pelvis back and forth. ‘You said she was a prissy, little madam.’

  Samantha shook her head with a long-suffering look on her face until he stopped thrusting.

  ‘Remind me again what it is about her you don’t like,’ he said. ‘Just leave out the personal remarks.’

  ‘She’s been snooping around. She’s always watching us when she’s dancing. I swear she’ll fall off the stage one day. I know she saw us slip some dope into a guy’s drink the other night.’

  He nodded and frowned as connections began to form in his mind. ‘And now the guy she was talking to chases after our friend Jesse—’

  ‘And I don’t believe in coincidence.’

  ‘—but what’s the connection between Gina and Jesse? She wasn’t involved when you drugged him, was she?’

  Samantha rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not. Haven’t you been listening? If she was in on it, we wouldn’t have to worry about her, would we?’

  He decided to let the sarcastic tone of voice go for the moment, even though he knew giving her a slap would definitely make him feel better. ‘So this guy is the only connection between the two of them.’

  ‘As far as we know.’

  ‘So who is he? He was here last night and again today. He’s the one who’s snooping around.’

  Samantha shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  They were both quiet, trying to see some connection. They felt it hovering in the air just out of reach.

  ‘He obviously knows Jesse,’ D’Amato said. ‘So presumably Jesse knows him ...’

  They looked at each other, their nasty little minds communicating on some lower level.

  ‘I think it’s the guy who rang Jesse’s phone,’ Samantha said. ‘That was just some stupid act he put on when you forced him to call back.’

  ‘I think you’re right.’ He nodded to himself. ‘Didn’t sound right at the time. He never gave the guy a chance to talk.’

  ‘It’s easy enough to find out,’ Samantha said. ‘Ring his office. Ask to speak to the guy.’

  He took Jesse’s phone out of his pocket. ‘Lucky I kept hold of this.’

  ‘Here, give it to me,’ Samantha said, holding out her hand. ‘I’ll do it.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘You think I don’t know how to make a phone call?’

  ‘Sure you do. It’s just that you sound like Marlon Brando in The Godfather. They probably wouldn’t tell you if he works there or not.’

  He handed her the phone. Not that he’d tell her, but he was pleased he sounded that way to other people. That was probably why all his men sucked ass so much. Especially Seppe.

  ‘You’re right’—he heard it in his voice now she’d mentioned it—‘I’m sure they’d much rather get a call from some fishwife calling from the trailer park.’

  Samantha ignored him. She scrolled through Jesse’s contacts and made the call. They stood facing each other, eyes locked as she asked to talk to Evan Buckley. The corners of her mouth curled as she listened and then ended the call.

  ‘Ha! Never heard of him.’

  ‘So, Jesse lied to us.’

  He was impressed. He’d just finished scaring the guy half to death but he’d still managed to think on his feet. He was surprised he had it in him.

  ‘I told you, you were too easy on him. Lying son of a bitch. You should have let me—’

  He had an unpleasant mental picture of Samantha going to work on the guy with the scalpel. It made him shiver as he imagined it.

  ‘Okay, okay. You were right.’

  He made calming gestures with his hands in case she got too carried away.

  ‘We’ve got that little minx snooping in here and Jesse hanging around outside and this guy running between the two of them. So who is he?’

  ‘He’s not local police. I reckon he’s someone Jesse hired.’

  Samantha’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. One day those creases aren’t going to smooth out again, he thought unpleasantly.

  ‘So why come back himself?’

  He opened his hands. ‘Beats me—although he seemed like one of those guys who’s always stepping on his own dick.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘You can use a computer, can’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Do a search. Gargle it. We’ve got his name and number. Start looking wherever it is Jesse comes from. Can’t be too difficult to find him.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to get Seppe to talk to your girl Gina. A proper talk. Your trouble’—he pinched her cheek playfully—‘is you’re too soft.’

  Chapter 34

  EVAN DIDN’T WANT TO make the call to Angel and let him have the bad news about Jesse and Gina. But he didn’t suppose it would come as much of a surprise to him.

  ‘So how did it go at Chi Chi’s last night?’ Angel asked him.

  ‘I can’t remember ...’

  There was a slight pause and then Angel burst out laughing. Evan let him finish because he certainly wasn’t going to be laughing by the end of the conversation.

  ‘I spoke to your little friend. I saw her inside and then had a talk with her afterwards. I don’t think you’ll be hearing from her again.’

  He heard the thump of heels coming off the edge of a desk. The sound almost masked a loud sigh. ‘Last time I let you talk to witnesses. What happened?’

  ‘This all happened before I even talked to her,’ Evan said, and told him what Gina had said to him in the car.

  Angel listened all the way through without making any comment. Evan imagined him crossing out the name Gina over and over on his legal pad until it was just a mess of blue ink.

  ‘So she’s got cold feet,’ he said when Evan had finished.

  ‘You can’t blame her.’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  Evan hesitated for a second. ‘That’s not all.’

  ‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ Angel said. He sounded like he wished he’d never taken the call. Or even got out of bed that day.

  ‘I think she’s in danger. Maybe I’m overreacting, but there’s this hard-faced old hag called Samantha—’

  ‘Yeah, I remember the name from Gina’s notes.’

  ‘—who was watching us when I was talking to Gina in the club. She’s the one who went around with the photo.’

  ‘I hope you’re wrong,’ Angel said carefully, ‘and I don’t see there’s any reason for her to make a connection—’

  ‘But?’

  Evan felt as if he’d been prodded in the stomach with an ice-cold knife as he waited for Angel to carry on—not stabbed yet, but it was coming.

  ‘But Samantha is a nasty piece of work. She—’

  ‘How nasty?

  ‘She carved up a guy with a straight razor. Looked like a turkey carcass the day after Thanksgiving b
y the time she was finished. Did twelve years.’

  Evan couldn’t stop the image of Gina’s face, cut to the bone with a razor, pushing itself into his mind.

  ‘Killed him?’

  Angel snorted. ‘I hope so. They buried the poor guy.’

  Neither of them said anything for a moment. Evan heard the creak of a chair and then the sound of coffee being poured into a cup.

  ‘So what can we do?’

  ‘There’s not really anything we can do about it unless Gina wants to make something out of it.’

  His voice had that same old, same old resignation in it, like why should today be any different?

  ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath.’ Evan stifled a yawn. It had been a long day already.

  ‘Keeping you up?’

  ‘It’s tiring work doing your job for you.’

  ‘Yeah, right. If I came up with results like this, I’d have been fired years ago. I’ve got a lot of sympathy for Guillory if you help her out the same way.’

  Evan heard him drumming his fingertips on the desk.

  ‘Anything else to help make my day?’

  ‘Actually, yes.’

  Evan heard a groan that suggested Angel hadn’t really been expecting more.

  ‘My client is down here—’

  ‘I get the feeling I’m going to wish I never asked.’

  ‘—and has been taking matters into his own hands.’

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘They caught him attacking one of the girls—’

  ‘This gets better and better.’

  ‘—and locked him up and then threatened to torture him. Seems they were quite persuasive. Tied him to a chair without a seat—like in the James Bond movie.’

  ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘Nope. Scared him half to death.’

  Angel chuckled. ‘You got to hand it to the greaseballs. They’ve got style.’

  ‘Greaseballs?’

  ‘Yeah. The club’s owned by a fat greaseball called Tony D’Amato. Where is he now? Your client.’

  ‘On his way home.’

  ‘Good. That’s the best place for him.’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me. I wouldn’t even ask him his name if I were you. He won’t tell you.’

  Angel sighed on the other end of the line. ‘You know, I’m going to start taking this personally soon.’