His tone implied if he had to say it a third time, Evan would be sorry.
There were lots of things Evan was sorry about, one more wouldn’t make much difference.
The cop gripped Evan’s upper arm, tried to turn him. Evan dug his heels in, didn’t budge. The cop pushed harder, his arm shaking with the effort, his face turning a deep brick red.
‘Turn—’
Evan threw his hand off a little too violently, caught him on the nose with the back of his hand.
It all happened very fast after that.
The other cop’s nightstick was out in a flash. There was a big noisy scuffle, arms and fists flying everywhere, grunts and heavy breathing. A pair of aviator sunglasses dropped on the ground and Evan made damn sure he stomped them into the dirt. He got an elbow in the eye, felt like it cracked his cheekbone. One of the cops got a fat lip. Then Evan was thrown face down on the hood of the cruiser, his face pressed hard into the paintwork, nose bleeding and squashed sideways. One of them leaned on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back, the rank odor of stale sweat coming off him in waves, his breath in Evan’s face smelling of eggs. The other one cuffed him and pulled him upright again.
‘Resisting arrest too,’ the one he’d accidentally hit on the nose said with a smirk.
He had bright, mean eyes without the sunglasses. He looked around for them, saw them bent and twisted on the ground, one of the lenses cracked. The smirk evaporated, a scowl taking its place as he picked them up and stuffed them in his pocket.
His partner smiled through his fat lip, touched it gingerly with his finger. He spat noisily on the ground next to Evan’s feet, his eyes on Evan’s as he did it.
Evan spat back, a stream of blood-streaked saliva. Some of it landed on the cop’s perfectly-shined shoe.
The cop stared open-mouthed, looked from his shoe back to Evan’s deadpan face. He took an angry half-step forward. His partner’s arm shot straight out across his chest like a barrier coming down. They looked at each other a long moment, a shall we, shan’t we? silent exchange and settled on a common thought.
Later.
Evan stood there, his eye throbbing, the taste of blood in his mouth as it ran off his top lip. He bit his tongue and waited while they fished his wallet roughly out of his pocket, ripping the lining. He watched as a glimmer of recognition crossed their faces as they read his ID. They both looked up at him.
‘You’re the guy ...’
He nodded, gave him a tight smile.
Well done dickhead.
‘Why the hell didn’t you say so?’
‘I tried. You were too busy not listening.’
‘You shouldn’t have hit me.’
‘It was an accident.’
The guy suddenly grinned, gave a whatcha gonna do shrug.
‘Yeah, I know. Turn around again. Let’s get those off you.’
Evan turned this time, let him take off the cuffs.
‘Sorry about the misunderstanding.’
Evan thought that was a nice word. Misunderstanding. He was sure it would appear in the report if they wrote one up, which he doubted.
‘You’re not the guy living here then?’
‘No.’
‘I suppose not after what happened. So what were you doing?’
It was asked a different way this time, without the accusation. Then the cop answered his own question before Evan got a chance to make something up.
‘You think you missed something last time, eh? Some more bodies.’
He laughed and his partner joined in. It was said as a joke—a joke in very poor taste—but there was more truth in it than he could ever have imagined.
‘I just needed to see the place again.’
The two cops nodded in an understanding way.
‘Last time I was here, I nearly ended up buried alive with the others. It still gives me nightmares. I needed to come back, prove to myself it’s just a house.’
They seemed to buy it.
‘And you don’t have to worry, I wasn’t planning on burning the house down either.’
The cops gave him their we know that smiles. It was just part of the silly misunderstanding. The one that was unlikely to make it onto paper. They got back in their car and drove away. Evan watched it disappear into the distance.
What the hell was he doing here?
Chapter 25
‘NO, DON’T TELL ME.’
‘What are you talking about?’
He leaned backwards and tipped his head to the side, his eyebrows pinched together. He looked her up and down. She looked good but he wasn’t about to tell her.
‘It’s on the tip of my tongue.’
The penny dropped.
‘Knock it off, Buckley, or I’ll go back inside and put on jeans and a T-shirt.’
‘It’s a dress! It is, isn’t it?’
She glared at him trying hard not to laugh, then gave him the once over.
‘Good to see you made the effort. What year was that jacket in fashion?’
It was like water off a duck’s back, she knew that. He could have at least polished his shoes. Or combed his hair.
‘What the hell happened to your eye?’
‘Lipstick too, mmm hmm. It gets better and better.’
‘I said, what happened to your eye?’
‘I’ll tell you later.’
After he’d had the chance to think something up. He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her the truth.
He put a hand on her elbow to lead her down the sidewalk to where he’d parked.
‘You need me to help keep you steady on those heels?’
She ignored him, pulled her arm away, then caught sight of the rental Honda. She stopped dead.
‘I told you, you’re not taking me to dinner in that.’
‘What’s wrong with it? It’s got electric windows and a heater. I think. Besides, what’s the big deal? I buy you breakfast every week.’
‘Breakfast isn’t dinner. You don’t have breakfast at night.’
‘And everybody knows night time is the right time, eh?’
He schmoozed up to her and she pushed him away.
‘Is this a date, is that what you mean?’
She started walking again, towards the Honda.
‘No. This is thank-you for all the tireless work I do on your behalf.’
‘Okay. Just so long as I know the rules before we start. Anyway, we’re picking the Corvette up from my sister’s. I didn’t have time to get it earlier.’
If he hadn’t already been on the other side of the car, she’d have hit him around the head with her bag.
Mitch’s car was parked on the street outside the house when they got there.
‘Your brother-in-law moved back in?’
‘Sort of. He thought about that incident the other night, thought maybe he should stick around for a while.’
‘I mentioned it to the captain. He’s not going to put anybody on it.’
‘It was worth a try.’
He pushed the door open and she went to do the same.
‘You wait here, I won’t be a minute.’
‘You ashamed of me or something?’
He grinned at her, held his reply a little longer than she’d have liked.
‘Not looking like that, I’m not. But if you come in, you won’t get out again. It’ll be Charlotte’s secret recipe meatloaf for you. Bye, bye, fancy restaurant. Come to think of it, I like meatloaf—’
She gave him a shove to get him out the car and was fixing her makeup in the mirror when there was a bang on the window. She looked up and there was Charlotte’s smiling face on the other side of the glass. Behind her, Evan stood with his arms folded, a smug told-you-so grin plastered across his face. Charlotte pulled the door open and Guillory climbed out.
‘You must be Kate. Evan’s told me all about you.’
Guillory was tempted to reach around Charlotte, see if she could get hold of Buckley by the neck, but he was already on his way to
get the Corvette from the garage.
‘All good, I hope.’
‘Oh, yes.’
She leaned in closer, not that anyone could have overheard anything as Evan fired up the Corvette.
‘He really likes you.’
‘He said that?’
‘I’m his sister, he doesn’t need to.’
Guillory was sure Charlotte’s heart was in the right place. She felt a warning twinge in her ring finger nonetheless.
‘Do you know what happened to his eye? He won’t tell me.’
‘No, me neither.’
Charlotte shook her head.
‘On your first real date, too. I tried to make him comb his hair.’
‘It’s not—’
‘You have a nice time tonight.’
She leaned in again and Guillory got a waft of meatloaf on her breath this time. Behind her the Corvette rolled down the driveway, the engine throbbing in tune with her head.
‘You can pick up the car tomorrow morning if you like.’
Guillory watched open-mouthed as Charlotte skipped back up the path to the house. A blast on the horn from Evan brought her back to earth. She got in the car and Evan floored it like the little boy in a man’s body that every man is.
‘What have you been saying to your sister about me?’
He didn’t look around. Even from the side she could see his grin could’ve swallowed the steering wheel.
‘Don’t worry about it. She gives me the same treatment.’
She shook her head, wishing she hadn’t asked.
‘You were the one wanted to go to dinner. Maybe if you’d worn jeans and a T-shirt she wouldn’t have gotten any ideas—’
One of the things she liked about driving with Buckley was he didn’t have room to move out of the way when he needed a slap.
***
‘YOU WANT TO TELL me what you were doing out at Hendricks’ place today?’
Evan choked on the mouthful of steak he’d just bitten into. She watched him cough and splutter with a self-satisfied smile on her lips, took a sip of her wine. She’d relented on the champagne, didn’t like the stuff anyway.
‘You deliberately waited until my mouth was full before you said that.’
‘The way you eat, there’s not a lot of other options.’
He took a large mouthful of her wine before she could stop him. His glass was empty and they were in one of those places where they put the bottle over on the other side of the room where you can’t reach it yourself.
‘A couple of the patrol guys were talking, saying how they nearly rousted this vagrant, turned out to be the guy who discovered all the bodies. Apparently, he started a fight.’
She paused to see if he’d say anything. He was too busy pretending to catch the waiter’s eye, to get him to bring the wine over.
‘They had to restrain him. The guy got somebody’s elbow in his eye. Turned out it was all just a—’
‘Misunderstanding?’
She beamed at him, glad they were on the same wavelength.
‘That’s exactly the word they used.’
‘It’s a useful word. Saves having to write fuck-up in an official report.’
The waiter arrived with their bottle. Guillory saw from the way Evan was scrutinizing it he thought they’d given some of it to another table as well.
‘The patrol officers said the guy made up some story about having nightmares, needing to confront his demons, that sort of thing. They thought it was pure BS. He was there to burn the place down.’
She paused again as Evan took a slurp of his wine.
‘You know what I want to know?’
‘What?’
‘If that’s what you were planning, why wait so long?’
‘I wasn’t. You know that.’
‘Of course I do. I’m just telling you what they said. I know it’s to do with the messages from Hendricks.’
She dug in her purse and brought out a coffee-stained slip of paper.
‘I thought you left that in the diner.’
‘I did. I went back for it.’
She laid it on the table between them.
I know where she is.
You were so close.
How’s it feel, Buckley?
Don’t worry, it will all be over soon.
He was sure his face must be giving him away. He felt like a complete shit as he sat and stared at the piece of paper with two messages missing. He took a bite of his steak, couldn’t taste a thing.
‘And you brought it out with you tonight?’
‘I had a feeling the topic might come up at some stage, yes.’
She went back to her dinner but her heart wasn’t in it either. If he hadn’t gone out to Hendricks’ farm, they might have got through the evening without this coming up. She pushed her plate away and took a slug of wine.
‘Is this really what you want to do now, Kate? I thought this was supposed to be a thank-you for all the work you’ve done for an ungrateful—’
‘Keep going.’
‘An ungrateful ... person like me. Not more work.’
She smiled at him.
‘Why, what else are we going to do? Play footsie under the table? Or—’
‘Okay, okay.’
His hand was resting on the table. She put hers over the top of it, leaned in so he couldn’t avoid her eyes.
‘Do you really think Sarah’s down there?’
He pulled his hand out from under hers and leaned back. The more distance you put between yourself and another person, the easier it is to lie to them, everyone knows that.
‘It’s that line, You were so close, isn’t it?’
He didn’t know what to say, what to think.
Should he say, no, actually it’s the line Nobody found the second level? You know, one of the ones I didn’t tell you about. Or should he sit here and discuss with her why it was or wasn’t the line she thought it was? She took his silence as confirmation.
‘He’s playing with you, Evan. It’s the other threatening ones you should be worrying about.’
‘I thought you said we couldn’t do anything about those.’
‘We can’t do anything about any of them. That doesn’t mean you have to waste your time running around after all these clues’—she made quote marks in the air with her fingers—‘like he wants you to.’
He stared at the table top. There weren’t any easy answers there, tucked under his plate or hiding behind his wine glass.
‘Okay. Talk me through it,’ she said.
‘Talk you through what?’
‘Where would she be? There were four doors off that basement under the barns.’ She counted them off on her fingers. ‘One leads to the house, one to the barn. Another one to the chamber where the Claytons were buried and one to an empty room.’
They stared at each other across the table. He swallowed, hoped she didn’t notice.
‘There’s something you haven’t told me.’
He kept his face deadpan. There were so many things he hadn’t told her. His hands were back resting on the table. She put hers on top of his again, like one more bit of physical contact and he’d crumble. He turned his over under hers and ran his finger along the middle of her palm. The first intimate contact between them, the first that wasn’t a slap or a shove like a couple of guys horsing around.
She pulled her hand away.
‘Stop it! Tell me what it is.’
He didn’t tell her fast enough. She planted her hands on the table, pushed herself up, shoved the chair away with the back of her leg. It was a bluff. But he relented anyway.
‘Okay. Sit back down.’
She lowered herself slowly as if any false move from him and she’d be outta there. The anger in her eyes watered down to frustration.
He grinned at her.
‘People will think we’re a regular couple. They see you counting things off on your fingers and think, she’s giving him a hard time, listing all the poor guy’s faults
—’
‘Ha! I’d need a lot more than ten fingers.’
‘Then they see us holding hands, aw, they made up. Next thing you’re off again, typical unmanageable woman—’
‘Five.’
‘But the guy doesn’t want to lose her—’
‘Four.’
‘So he digs in his pocket—’
‘Three.’
‘And brings out something that shuts her up good and proper.’
‘I’d like to see what.’
He placed his Zippo lighter on the table between them.
‘As you can see, it’s not an engagement ring.’
‘Your sister will be so disappointed.’
He raised his eyebrow as if to ask is she the only one?
‘Idiot.’
They were back on track. She picked up the lighter, turned it over in her hand.
‘I found that in the empty’—he did the air quotes like she had—‘basement room.’
‘You never told me.’
‘I’m telling you now.’
‘It’s obviously got some significance to you. You going to tell me, or do I have to guess?’
‘You have to guess, you being the real detective.’
‘It belonged to Sarah.’
‘Sarah wasn’t born in 1970.’
It only took a moment’s thought to make the leap.
‘It was her father’s. He gave it to her.’
‘You got it. Read the verse.’
‘I already did. It was meant to be something to help her get or keep a grip on her life.’
He nodded, knew what was coming by the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth, so he beat her to it.
‘And no, my old man wasn’t over there, so he didn’t have one to give me.’
‘I wasn’t going to say that.’
The smile in her eyes made a liar of her.
‘You have to admit, it’d be a good idea.’
She put it down on the table and studied him carefully. He had a strange desire to reach out his hand for hers. How would she respond?
‘Come on Kate, you’re nearly there. You’re always telling me how well you know me.’
The waiter came over with the last of the wine. He saw the lighter and his mouth turned down. Evan felt like setting fire to the tablecloth. They waited for him to leave again.
‘I liked it when they used to turn the bottle upside down in the ice-bucket,’ Evan said. ‘Don’t suppose they do that sort of thing at places like this.’
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 70