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

by James, Harper

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘I’m going down there. You need to stay here until this is all over.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts. You heard what he’s capable of.’ He gripped her shoulders again. ‘He’s clearing the decks and you’re unfinished business—’

  ‘So are you.’

  He smiled grimly and snapped off a mocking salute. ‘To protect and serve ...’

  ‘So is Evan,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Evan too,’ Angel agreed. ‘Whatever plans he had for him before, he’ll just kill him now. I know I would.’

  Chapter 70

  EVAN WAS WOKEN FROM his fitful sleep by Forrest shaking his shoulder. He’d had a dream that he hit a stray dog when he was driving his car. In his mirror he’d seen the animal crawl into the gutter, its broken legs dragging uselessly along the ground behind it. He’d stopped and walked back to it where it lay twitching pathetically at the side of the road. It twisted and turned its face to him—Gina’s face. The face laughed and said I only slept with you because I felt sorry for you. He’d pulled his gun out of his pocket and shot the creature twice in the back but it wouldn’t stop laughing ...

  ‘What?’ He sat up with a jolt and looked around him. The dog was gone, so was Gina’s face, although he could still hear her words: because I felt sorry for you.

  ‘Bad dream?’ Forrest said.

  ‘The worst.’ He stretched and caught a yawn in his fist. ‘I don’t think it’ll be the last time either.’

  Forrest was agitated about something. There was a buzz of nervous energy crackling in the air around him. He was sweating even though it was still early.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Evan said. ‘Sorry, what else is wrong?’

  ‘I just got a call from Jesse. He was barely able to talk.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He said Angel attacked him. Jumped him in his hotel parking lot. Hit him over the head with something and dragged him into his room.’

  Evan stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘Are you serious?’ How had he been so wrong about Angel? He’d thought the guy was okay. It was difficult to believe what he was hearing.

  ‘I wish I wasn’t. Angel interrogated him. Knocked him around some more’—he smacked his fist into his open palm with a loud slap—‘broke his nose.’

  ‘What did he want to know?’

  Forrest locked eyes with Evan. ‘He wanted to know where you were.’

  ‘Me?’

  Forrest nodded his head impatiently. ‘Yes, you. Who else?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’re an annoying pain in the ass. Because, according to their plan, D’Amato should have you locked away by now. Or at the bottom of the river. They weren’t expecting what happened—no one was—and now you’re on the loose and they’re two men down.’ He looked away. Evan couldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘And Gina ...’

  And Gina.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d killed her. Not just killed her—murdered her, because that’s what it was. The two guys might be self defense, but he’d murdered Gina in cold blood. He couldn’t believe she’d taunted him until he snapped and shot her. Couldn’t believe every word she’d ever said to him was a lie. Couldn’t believe he was likely to spend the rest of his life behind bars. I’m going to hell, he thought. Head of the line.

  He was dragged away from his morbid thoughts by the sound of Forrest clearing his throat. He looked up, recognizing the tell-tale signs that Forrest used to preface his bad news.

  ‘I think it might be personal about Gina,’ Forrest said, looking Evan in the eye again. Was that a faint smirk on his face? It seemed to Evan that he was enjoying his role as the bearer of bad tidings. Was he being deliberately inflammatory?

  Whatever it was, it struck an unwelcome chord. He thought back to Angel’s reaction when he found out he’d spent the night with Gina. He didn’t want to be reminded of his night with her. The thought of it gave him no pleasure now, just a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  Because I felt sorry for you.

  Forrest must have seen something in his face that made him back off. He showed him his palms in apology. ‘I might be wrong—but Jesse said he’d never seen anyone so bent out of shape.’

  He had no trouble believing it. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if the roles were reversed. ‘So why didn’t Jesse ring me? If it’s me Angel’s after.’

  Forrest shrugged. ‘He said he tried but you didn’t pick up. Maybe you were asleep.’

  He checked his phone but there were no missed calls from Jesse. He didn’t have time to worry about that now. He threw the phone on the bed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

  ‘What did Jesse tell him?’

  ‘He told him you were here with me—’

  ‘What?’ Evan’s eyes bulged from their sockets, as if trying to escape. ‘How the hell did he know that?’ It came out a lot sharper than he meant it to.

  ‘He didn’t,’ Forrest snapped back. He couldn’t tell if it was exasperation in his voice or annoyance. ‘He just said the first thing that came into his mind to stop Angel from hitting him. His nose was broken. He could hardly talk. He was crying on the phone, saying he was sorry over and over again.’ Forrest’s mouth twisted into an unpleasant sneer. ‘It was pathetic.’

  Evan was amazed at his callous attitude. Then again, that was how the rich got—and stayed—rich. ‘How come he’s still alive?’

  ‘He said somebody was banging on the wall because of all the noise. Angel hit him one more time and ran. Otherwise he’d be dead for sure.’

  Evan shook his head and walked over to the open window. He jammed his hands deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, and looked out. The perfect green fields stretched away to the horizon. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. A gentle breeze carried the smell of recently cut grass and the fainter smell of manure into the room. Even that was a good, honest smell. It wasn’t pretending to be anything else. He wished the biggest problem in his life at the moment was how to stop the smell of manure getting into the house and clinging to the drapes.

  ‘So we can assume he’s on his way here now,’ he said, turning back to face Forrest. ‘I suppose we better get ready for him.’

  Chapter 71

  FROM HIS VANTAGE POINT in the hayloft of one of the barns surrounding the courtyard, Evan watched Angel’s car pull up and park in front of the main doors to the house, next to Forrest’s blue and white pickup truck. He was on his own. The driver’s door opened and Angel climbed out and drew his pistol, a Glock 19 nine millimetre, identical to the one he had in his own hand.

  Angel cocked his ear and looked around warily. His gaze moved over the open hayloft door and Evan froze even though he knew Angel couldn’t see him in the shadows. Angel peered through the passenger side window of Forrest’s pickup before taking a quick look in the back. Satisfied it was empty and he wouldn’t be taken by surprise from behind, he turned towards the steps to the front doors.

  That was the exact moment Carl Hendricks’ latest, taunting text chose to come through. Evan’s phone pinged in his pocket. It sounded as loud as Sunday morning church bells ringing out in the clear air.

  Angel whirled around towards the sound. Evan pushed his back harder into the wall, turned his face away from the opening. Angel advanced towards the barn, his footsteps careful and slow. Evan felt every crunching step in his gut. Angel’s eyes flicked upwards again towards the hayloft door. He twisted his body sideways, trying to see further into the dark opening, along the wall where Evan hid. Evan held his breath. The faintest hint of mist in the air would give him away.

  Angel tried the door. Evan thanked God he’d bolted it behind him, feeling paranoid at the time, not so much now. Angel put his ear to the door and listened. In the murky darkness, on the other side of the hayloft from Evan, an invisible rodent foraged amongst the straw and cobwebs, its small claws scratching on the worn wooden floor.
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  There was a sudden explosion of sound from the roof ridge above them, a frantic flapping of wings and raucous cawing, as a pair of crows took to the air. Angel’s head came off the door like somebody had put an electric current through it. His gaze shot up, followed the birds’ noisy flight across the courtyard. His shoulders relaxed. He gave the hayloft doorway one last look and made his way back to the main house, took the stairs easily, two at a time. In the darkness of the hayloft behind him, Evan’s whole body relaxed, his breath misting the cold air as he’d feared, drifting out through the door.

  Angel stood off to the side of the front doors and hammered on them with the butt of his gun. Forrest didn’t shoot through the doors with a shotgun if that’s what he was expecting, just opened the door and stepped outside. He took a theatrical little step backwards at the sight of the gun as if he wasn’t expecting to see it and raised his hands. Angel smiled a tight smile and motioned for him to go down to the car.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what this is about, Detective?’ Forrest said.

  ‘I think you know. Where’s Evan?’

  So, Forrest was right, it’s me he’s after, Evan thought, as he watched them make their way down the steps. Forrest backed carefully down the steps keeping his eyes on the gun, Angel following. Angel’s back was to him as Forrest stopped by the car. It was time for him to make his move. He put his foot on the hay bale that they’d balanced in front of the open loading door and pushed it out. It dropped silently through the air and hit the ground with a muffled thump, twenty feet behind Angel.

  Right on cue Angel spun around, his gun levelled at the hay bale. Forrest reached behind his back and pulled a leather sap out of his waistband. Evan hadn’t had time to question exactly why Forrest owned a lead-filled leather sap as they made their hasty plan. Forrest swung and hit Angel on the side of the head. Angel grunted and staggered forwards. Forrest stepped in and gripped the gun in one hand and twisted at the same time he hit Angel’s wrist with the sap. The gun twisted out of Angel’s fingers and Forrest had it by the barrel. But before he got a proper hold on it Angel rabbit punched him in the neck and it slipped out of his hand as he sagged to his knees.

  Watching from above Evan let out a groan. Forrest had screwed up. He wouldn’t be any match for Angel in a fight for the gun. He’d had one chance and he’d fumbled it. There wasn’t time for Evan to climb back down the ladder and run around. He stepped up to the loading door and leapt out. He landed on the hay bale and rolled off onto the ground just as Angel elbowed Forrest in the face. There was a sickening crack of bones breaking and Forrest went sprawling onto his back. Angel bent down and picked the gun up again.

  Evan was back on his feet, gun in hand. Twenty feet away across the courtyard Angel stood staring uncomprehendingly at him, the gun in his hand hanging at his side. Forrest lay slumped on the ground between them, bleeding into the dirt and groaning quietly.

  Angel cocked his head, his eyebrows pinching together. ‘Evan? I thought there was somebody in the barn. What the hell’s going on?’

  ‘Drop the gun Angel.’

  Angel didn’t drop it. Evan was hardly surprised. Instead, he lifted his arm until his gun was pointing directly at him. A Mexican standoff, although strictly Forrest should have had a gun too. Forrest scrambled up and ran to Evan’s side, blood dripping from his broken nose as he ran.

  ‘What are you doing here with that bastard?’ Angel said with a dismissive nod towards Forrest.

  Evan snorted in disbelief. ‘What am I doing? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Looking for you.’

  Evan couldn’t believe he just came out and said it. No pretence. Just tell it how it is.

  ‘What? So you can try and kill me like you tried to kill Jesse?’

  Angel’s jaw dropped. He pointed to his chest. ‘I tried to kill him?’ The disbelief in his voice certainly sounded genuine. Angel breathed heavily through his nostrils and looked up at the sky in frustration. ‘If Jesse’s dead, it was him who did it’—he pointed the gun at Forrest—‘and we had to listen to it.’

  ‘What?’

  Angel nodded, his eyes cold and clear. ‘Jesse butt-dialed me and we listened as the cold-blooded bastard caved his head in. You should have heard it, Evan.’

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ Forrest said. ‘I talked to him this morning. He’s still alive—just. You should have heard him. He told me what Angel did to him.’ His voice was thick and nasal from the broken nose. ‘The guy likes to break people’s noses before he kills them.’

  Angel shook his head in disbelief and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘What’s he been telling you, Evan?’

  Evan was having trouble thinking straight, let alone putting it into words. He didn’t know if that was still the effects of the drug or if he was just plain stupid. His head was pounding and he was so incredibly tired. Angel was still talking.

  ‘How did you get here? Why are you here?’

  ‘I brought him here so you wouldn’t kill him—’ Forrest said.

  ‘Just shut up for a minute, the pair of you,’ Evan shouted. He needed time to think. But what did he think was going to come to him? Divine inspiration? A sudden reversal of memory loss?

  ‘What’s he told you?’ Angel said again. Clearly, he wasn’t about to give him time to think.

  ‘That you’re involved with D’Amato.’ He pointed directly at Angel’s face. ‘You set me up.’

  Angel groaned. What else can you do when you’re faced with something so ludicrous it defies belief? He could put a bullet in both of them before an amateur like Evan could even blink, but that wouldn’t solve anything. ‘He’s the one in partnership with D’Amato. We heard him tell Jesse before he caved his head in. He set you up, not me.’

  ‘He’s lying,’ Forrest said, his voice urgent. ‘He’s just turning everything you say back onto me. You’ve got to do something.’

  That was great coming from Forrest who’d managed to screw up their plan. ‘What, for Christ’s sake? What do you suggest?’

  Forrest didn’t say anything, just scowled back at him.

  ‘Do you know what happened, Evan?’ Angel said. ‘Can you remember anything? Anything at all?’

  Evan shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘He said I killed two of D’Amato’s men trying to escape—’ He stopped, unable to get the rest of it out. Angel waited. Next to him, Forrest held his breath.

  ‘What else, Evan?’

  Evan looked down at the ground, at his feet, at the spots of Forrest’s blood on the ground. He swallowed a lump the size of his fist and looked into Angel’s eyes. ‘He said I shot Gina’—he almost choked on her name—‘killed her because she was working with you and D’Amato. Said I went berserk because she was laughing at me.’

  Angel ran his hand through his hair and pulled it tight at the back of his head until it hurt. ‘Jesus Christ! And you believe him? I know you’ve been drugged, but this is …’ His voice trailed off, words failing him.

  ‘I don’t know what to believe.’ It was the truest thing he’d said all day. ‘Is she really dead?’

  There was genuine sorrow in Angel’s eyes. He swallowed thickly. ‘I don’t know. But it looks like someone shot her.’

  Whoever’s side he might be on, Evan knew he was telling the truth. You can’t fake the look that was in his eyes. He couldn’t hold his gaze.

  They were all quiet as the softly spoken words died on his lips. Three men standing quietly together, two of them sad and angry, one of them a killer, enjoying their pain.

  Angel broke the silence. ‘So where does he come in? He just happened to be passing by and gave you a ride after your busy night of killing? Is that what he told you?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Evan screamed, the gun shaking in his hand. ‘Don’t say it like that.’

  ‘Or what, Evan? Or what?’ He took a couple of paces towards them, pushing the air with his chin. ‘You going to shoot me too? That’s what he wan
ts you to do.’ He flicked the barrel of his gun towards Forrest, who flinched and edged backwards.

  Evan’s mind was reeling. Angel wasn’t making it any easier with his taunting. He was going to go crazy if he didn’t find out soon if Gina was alive or dead.

  ‘Or was it him all along?’ Angel carried on, ‘He killed the goons and maybe Gina too’—he put a lot of emphasis on her name and Evan felt it sting like a slap across the face—‘and he’s blaming it all on you because you can’t remember? Can’t remember because of the drugs he gave you.’ He shook his head, his face twisted in disgust.

  Evan would have given his right arm to believe him. It wouldn’t bring Gina back if she was dead but at least he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life haunted by her memory. ‘Why should I believe you? Why you and not him?’ He looked at Forrest cowering pathetically behind him. ‘He brought me here. If he did everything you say he did, why didn’t he just kill me as well?’

  Forrest smirked. ‘Sorry? What was that, Detective? I didn’t catch your answer—’

  Evan silenced him with a look. He didn’t want to have to listen to his whiny-assed voice any longer. Didn’t mean it wasn’t a valid question ...

  Angel didn’t answer him for a long time. The courtyard was completely still apart from the buzzing of insects busying themselves in the rose bushes that flanked the front door and the sound of Forrest breathing heavily through his broken nose. The same mix of cut grass and manure that Evan had smelled from the bedroom window wafted on the breeze. Far off in the distance there was the sound of farm machinery—tractors and ATVs and industrial size mowers—and a deeper noise that he couldn’t put his finger on. Across the courtyard, standing silently with his gun in his hand, Angel looked every inch the Mexican bandit. If the sun had been higher in the sky, the grass not so green, Evan would have felt like a gringo walking onto the set of a bad spaghetti western.

  When Angel finally answered, his voice was clear with the confidence of a man who’s made a major judgement call and is prepared to let the chips fall where they may.