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

by James, Harper

  ‘Didn’t you stick out too? A tall American in a place like that.’

  Crow nodded and smiled, his eyes losing focus again, as memories of more exciting times came back to him.

  ‘I followed Narvaez to the place he was staying. He was living with a family, part of his own extended family I think. I wanted to find out if the baby, Francisco, was there with him, that’s all. I wasn’t there to snatch the child back again.’

  ‘But that’s what he thought.’

  ‘Yes. I’d been watching him come and go. He never had the child with him, of course. Which meant it had to be in the apartment, if it was there at all. I waited until he was out one time. Then I went up to the apartment, knocked on the door. Remember, all I wanted to do was find out if the child was there. Then the Foxes could decide what they wanted to do. A young woman answered the door. She was pregnant. I don’t know how many other children were in there. It sounded like hundreds. In the background, over the noise of all the other children, I heard a baby crying.’

  Evan held up his hand to stop him. The pet crow hopped off the back of his chair and landed on his hand, flapping its wings in his face to steady itself, it’s claws digging into his flesh.

  ‘You’re honored.’

  He didn’t feel honored. He felt ridiculous.

  ‘If the woman was pregnant, the baby you heard couldn’t have been hers. It must have been Francisco.’

  Crow gave a small shrug.

  ‘Perhaps. I didn’t see it. I’m not an expert on crying babies. It might have been a year old.’

  ‘You didn’t try to get a look?’

  Crow’s hand went to his face again and Evan knew what was coming. The bird on his hand felt it too, lifted off and landed on its namesake’s knee.

  ‘That was my plan. I was standing in the hallway, my mind racing, trying to think of a way to get in, to get a look—’

  ‘When Narvaez came back.’

  ‘Yes. There was so much noise coming out of that apartment, I didn’t hear him coming. Maybe somebody told him about the Anglo visitor in his apartment block and he snuck up, who knows. Suddenly, there he was, with his ruined face and his one good eye full of so much hate my blood ran cold.’

  ‘On his own?’

  ‘Yes, just him, that was enough. You have to remember what happened the last time an Anglo had turned up uninvited at Jesús Narvaez’ place.’

  ‘He lost an eye and had his face shredded.’

  ‘Exactly. And here was another one, nosing around for the same reason. His sister’s baby. Only there was a difference this time ...’

  He let Evan put it together.

  ‘You were on his turf.’

  ‘There was a fight, more of a scuffle really. I was a lot bigger than him, he had a knife.’

  ‘He cut your face.’

  Crow fingered the scar.

  ‘I was lucky I didn’t lose an eye like him. I think that was what was in his mind. An eye for an eye, literally. Even if I wasn’t the man who did it to him, I was good enough in the circumstances.’

  ‘What happened?’

  There was a loud banging on the front door before he got the chance to answer. How the hell had he managed to engineer that distraction as well? He waited for Crow to get up. The old man stayed where he was. His pet bird hadn’t moved either at the sudden sound.

  ‘Aren’t you going to see who it is?’

  Crow shook his head.

  ‘I know who it is. Local kids. They like to play pranks on the scary old man in the creepy house. They dare each other to knock on the door.’

  Evan could believe it. He’d felt a shudder himself as he stood on the step waiting for Crow to answer the door. He waited for Crow to collect his thoughts.

  ‘The noise brought everyone out of their apartments. A couple of guys pulled him off, held him, while I got the hell out of there.’

  Evan grinned at him.

  ‘That’s the sort of excitement you miss, is it.’

  Crow grinned back, the skin of his face looking like a strange rock formation, and rocked his hand back and forth.

  ‘Maybe not quite that exciting.’

  ‘And all for nothing.’

  ‘Not nothing.’

  ‘You found out there was a baby there—you didn’t find out if it was Francisco. Pretty close to nothing.’

  Evan knew, from the look on Crow’s face, even as the words were coming out of his mouth, that he’d missed the point.

  ‘Tell me.’

  And don’t even think of getting up or playing with your damn bird.

  ‘I saw a name, that’s all. A name on the wall, next to the apartment door—the name of the family who lived there.’

  ‘It wasn’t Narvaez?’

  Crow shook his head.

  ‘No. I told you, they weren’t immediate family.’

  Just tell me the damn name.

  ‘It’s lucky for you it wasn’t Garcia or Hernandez.’

  Evan let the old man play his game, drag it out, make him squirm. He was on the verge of a major breakthrough. He could afford to wait. Crow started to tap his foot impatiently as if he was the one waiting for Evan to answer.

  ‘Grajales.’

  Evan leapt from the chair, did a couple of cartwheels around the room and finished off with a back flip, a cry of Hallelujah on his lips. In his mind, at least. As far as Crow could see, it was as if he’d gazed upon the face of Medusa and been turned to stone, he sat so still in the chair, hardly daring to breathe. He now had Frank Hanna’s son’s full name—if Crow’s guess was right. And every fiber of his body screamed that he was. He concentrated, kept his voice level.

  ‘You think Francisco took the name Grajales?’

  ‘Why not? New life, new name. Especially after Narvaez caught me there. He must have thought the Foxes weren’t just going to give up.’

  ‘Didn’t you look into it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because the Foxes did give up. Anthony is a very pragmatic man. It would have been almost impossible to get the baby back into the United States. Impossible physically and bureaucratically. And even if they’d somehow succeeded, would Narvaez give up?’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘They made the right decision. They got on with their lives.’

  ‘Like Frank Hanna.’

  ‘It’s what people do—until they’re clearing the decks, getting ready to meet their maker.’

  Crow stroked the back of the pet bird’s head gently with one finger, his face looking as if he was contemplating the prospect of meeting his own maker in the near future. And the preparations that would require.

  ‘You knew Narvaez came back?’

  Crow nodded.

  ‘I saw him on the street one day. It wasn’t as if I was looking out for him.’

  ‘Did he see you?’

  ‘Oh yes. Although it wasn’t like we stopped and compared scars.’

  ‘You didn’t try to find out if he brought Francisco back with him.’

  ‘No. I had other things to do.’

  Crow contemplated him. Evan felt as if it was the other crow watching him intently, that he was a fat juicy worm about to be pulled from the safety of its hole and dissected.

  ‘I can see how things get under your skin,’ Crow said. ‘You’re like a dog with a bone. You have to learn how to step back or things will drive you crazy.’

  Evan was right, the conversation was about to swing round again, back onto him. He’d taken a major leap forward, he had a name. It was time to go.

  He got up and Crow nodded his acceptance of the end of the conversation, walked him to the front door.

  It was Evan who hesitated as Crow held the door open, who couldn’t leave it alone.

  ‘What?’ Crow said.

  ‘Did Anthony Fox say anything to you about my wife?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  Evan didn’t know how to explain the strange feeling he’d experienced talking to Fox.

  ‘H
e was talking about acceptance. He said don’t worry, it’ll come to you one day as well. It might have been nothing more than a comment on life in general, the sort of free lesson in life old people like to give you—it just didn’t feel that way.’

  For the second time Evan felt as if he was about to be turned inside-out, his insides picked over for tasty morsels.

  ‘Not specifically, no. He simply said there was something. He didn’t hazard a guess at what it was, but he knew it was there. So, I dug a little deeper than I might otherwise have done when I looked you up.’

  Evan nodded unhappily at the thought of how easy to read he was.

  ‘I might as well hang a sign around my neck.’

  ‘Not at all. I’ve learned to pay close attention to what Anthony Fox says over the years. My offer still stands. I can help you.’

  The emphasis on the word can made Evan’s stomach turn over. It was as if he was saying he already had the answer, all he needed was for Evan to tell him he wanted to hear it. Evan’s discomfort wasn’t over yet. After listening to Crow’s cryptic comments for the past hour, he had a premonition Crow had saved the best to last.

  He knew it for sure when Crow put his hand on his shoulder. He flinched. Whether from the unexpected gesture, or recoiling from what was coming, who knows?

  ‘I have to warn you,’ Crow said, the bird in the back room cawing raucously as if on cue, ‘there are none so lost as those who will not be found.’

  Chapter 28

  GUILLORY STILL WASN’T ANSWERING his calls. He returned from the men’s room at the restaurant and found her gone. He couldn’t blame her. Deceitful douchebag was a phrase he imagined slipping through her perfectly painted lips if she’d bothered waiting around. The piece of paper with all the messages on it was still sitting on the table like an accusation. He was surprised she hadn’t written it on the back.

  He tried calling three or four times and it went to voicemail every time. That’s why he was sitting on the steps to the police station, the Corvette parked illegally a half block away. Hopefully he’d catch her on her way out to get lunch, try to make amends. Hopefully Ryder wouldn’t come along first. Ryder was her long-term partner, and he and Evan had enjoyed a hate-hate relationship from the get go.

  The door behind him opened and a couple of uniformed officers came out, sharing a joke. One of them held the door for somebody behind him. It was Ryder. Of course it was. Evan jumped to his feet, didn’t want to make it too easy for Ryder to kick him like a dog with its tail between its legs.

  The smile Ryder had been giving the other cop for holding the door slipped off when he saw Evan. A scowl replaced it. Evan had seen some dirty looks on Ryder’s face in his time, but this one was like he’d got something nasty on the bottom of his shoe that wouldn’t come off.

  ‘Don’t bother getting up for me,’ Ryder said as he skirted around him. ‘Asshole.’

  It wasn’t the time to get into it with him. He didn’t know what he’d say to refute the accusation anyway.

  ‘Is Kate around?’

  Ryder was already past him, acting as if he hadn’t heard. Then he thought better of it. He stopped and turned to face Evan, squaring his shoulders, pulling back his head. He walked back a couple paces until they were face to face. Evan was standing on the bottom step. The top of Ryder’s head was level with his chin. He stepped down onto the sidewalk so they could really get in each other’s faces, the air between them thick with testosterone.

  ‘We’ve had our differences,’ Ryder said, more than a hint of disgust in his voice, ‘but you’ve screwed up big time.’

  He shook his head, then pushed his face right into Evan’s, the smell of his breakfast still on his breath.

  ‘Even for a jerk like you.’

  Evan let him talk. Ryder still hadn’t said anything he could disagree with. He saw from his face, from the bright, mean glint in his eyes, that lunch was forgotten for the moment, as he got into his swing now, warming to the task.

  ‘You best run along, Detective. They might run out of donuts.’

  For a long moment he thought Ryder might punch him. He laughed instead.

  ‘You just can’t help yourself can you. I’ve always known you were an asshole’—he jabbed Evan on the chest with a meaty finger—‘but you don’t know a good thing when you see it, do you?’

  Evan knocked the finger away, felt like putting his own in Ryder’s eye. There’s only so many home truths you can swallow at once, especially from a sanctimonious prick like Ryder.

  ‘I don’t actually see what it’s got to do with you.’

  Weak, Buckley, very weak.

  A genuine smile filled Ryder’s face, a smile of smug satisfaction.

  ‘Exactly. You don’t see. Period.’

  Evan thought for a second he was going to leave it at that. No chance. Ryder was enjoying himself too much.

  ‘You want to know what it’s got to do with me—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘—what it’s got to do with me is I care about Kate.’ He jabbed his own chest with his finger. ‘Whereas, you—’

  ‘Are we done here?’

  Ryder shook his head, his mouth twisted.

  ‘Not by a long stretch. You’—he raised his hand to poke Evan on the chest again but thought better of it—‘you act like you’re Christ Descended—’

  The door behind them opened. They both turned to look. Kate Guillory was standing there watching them, her face deadpan. Ryder leaned in close, dropped his voice.

  ‘If you hurt her—’

  ‘Uh-oh. Movie dialog alert.’

  Ryder’s mouth hung open, words failing him. He turned on his heel and stomped off with the swamp-wading gait of a drunk.

  Guillory trotted down the steps, past Evan with barely a look, and called after Ryder to wait.

  ‘Kate,’ Evan said at the same moment she called Ryder.

  Ryder stopped and waited for her to catch him up. He stayed where he was, dropped his voice again, not so low that Evan couldn’t hear him.

  Talk to the asshole.

  They stared at each other a long moment, then turned away from each other. Evan walked towards her.

  ‘Can I give you a ride anywhere?’ He waved his arm towards the Corvette. ‘I didn’t get to take you ... shit.’

  Guillory spun around and they both watched a meter maid tuck a ticket under his wiper. Evan risked a fast glance at her, saw a small curl at the edge of her lips.

  ‘She’s just doing it because it’s a nice car.’

  Guillory didn’t say anything. The curl was still there.

  ‘I don’t suppose you can do anything about that?’

  That got a reaction. She twitched, made a face like she’d sat on a hot coal. She got it under control, looked at him for the first time. He swallowed, couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Sure I can,’ she said, her voice like an icy wind howling down the street. ‘But why would I?’

  She was lying. She couldn’t do anything about it once it was issued. Still, he’d gotten her attention.

  ‘At least you’re talking to me now.’

  She snorted. It wasn’t the time to point out how often she did it and how it didn’t do her any favors.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He thought he’d gone a bit too far. He watched her struggle to form words.

  ‘You don’t know what the word means.’

  He shrugged.

  ‘I know, but I used it correctly, didn’t I?’

  Her jaw looked as if she might crack a tooth if she didn’t unclench it soon, let the smile come.

  ‘I was going to offer to buy you lunch—’

  ‘What, because dinner turned out so well, you thought hey, let’s do that again.’

  ‘But seeing as I just got a ticket ...’

  He stood still to take his punishment, didn’t lean out of the way of her flying palm. He welcomed the familiar feel of it smacking solidly into the back of his head, letting him know he was forgiven. There
was no flying palm, just a sorry sad head shake. Like a disappointed parent looking at a poor report card. Or a dog owner whose new mutt won’t sit or beg and he’s thinking of asking the pet store for a refund.

  ‘It would depend on whether you’ve got any more, how shall I put it ... revelations for me.’

  He wasn’t sure which way to take that. Did she want to hear more, or not? Times like this he felt he’d never understand women.

  He shook his head.

  ‘No, that’s all.’

  She raised an eyebrow, cocked her head.

  ‘No, really.’

  A girl texting and walking almost ran into them as they stood in the middle of the sidewalk absorbed in a game of eye-contact chicken. She stepped to the side without glancing up.

  He started towards the Corvette. A second later Guillory fell into step beside him. He wanted to ask her, why such a big deal?

  ‘You want to know why I didn’t tell you?’

  ‘Go on, surprise me.’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to have to listen to another lecture on how Hendricks is jerking me around.’

  She stopped dead.

  It was the word lecture. He’d known as it slipped out it wasn’t going to go down well. It was almost as bad as mentioning the time of the month during an argument. He hadn’t made that mistake for a long time.

  ‘And I didn’t want you stopping me from going out there.’

  Guillory laughed.

  ‘That hasn’t worked out so well for you.’

  His face creased into a frown.

  ‘Ryder’s already told anybody who’ll listen, if they see another intruder at the Hendricks place, shoot them. Arrest them at the very least.’

  She started walking again. They got to the car, didn’t get in, leaned against the fender instead. Evan pulled the ticket out from under the wiper blade and stuffed it in his pocket. Guillory’s face snapped back to deadpan when he looked at her again, but he’d seen the smile.

  ‘What’s he so worked up about anyway?’

  She crossed her arms and leaned back to inspect him.

  ‘Didn’t he say when you were having your chat?’

  ‘Uh-uh. He was too busy saying asshole.’

  She nodded enthusiastically.