‘Okay. You promise me you’ll bury her, bury her deep enough so nothing digs her up, I’ll tell you what you want to know.’
Evan nodded slowly.
‘If we had time, I’d do it now. You have my word.’
Floyd held his eyes and slowly lifted his right arm, the one Evan shot. Evan saw the pain behind his eyes, saw his nostrils flare, the tension along his jaw as the arm came up, barely shaking, as he held out his hand.
‘Your word, ey?’
Evan stared at the hand, hesitated. Why did Floyd put himself through the agony of holding out his right hand? Because that’s the hand you use to shake? To show how tough he was? Or because he wanted his good arm free to grab Evan’s neck or maybe stab him with a hidden knife? If Evan stepped in to shake, the arrow in his leg would be within easy distance.
‘You want your answers, you’ll shake my hand.’
Still Evan hesitated. His eyes went from the outstretched hand to the other one resting in his lap and back again. Floyd shook his head slowly.
‘You can’t want them that badly. You ever hear anyone say fortune favors the brave?’
Floyd’s hand was shaking now, his mouth a tight line, beads of sweat on his top lip.
‘When that hand drops, the deal’s off.’
Evan tensed, ready to leap away. He watched his own hand go out almost without volition. He took Floyd’s hand, felt it hard and dry in his. It was like putting his hand between two cars as they backed into each other. They shook, Floyd holding it longer than necessary to seal a promise, more like to make a point. Or maybe to cause a distraction.
Faster than Evan could have believed possible, Floyd’s left hand shot up and grasped the arrow shaft.
‘I was you, I’d stay very still. I pull this, you’ll bleed out.’
Evan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t need telling twice.
‘I’ll know if you try to double-cross me.’
Evan ignored the pain, held Floyd’s eyes.
‘I told you I’ll bury her. I’ll even mark the spot with a cross.’
He didn’t know what made him say it. Whatever it was, Floyd was satisfied, let go of the arrow. Maybe he thought it might mean something to a man who knew nobody would ever put a cross at the head of his own grave.
Chapter 51
‘GIVE ME THE LIGHTER,’ Floyd said.
Evan gave it to him, waited while he read the inscription.
‘You found this in Carl’s house?’
‘In one of the basement chambers.’
Floyd nodded and held the lighter out for Evan to take.
‘It was Jack Adamson’s.’
Evan knew his mouth was hanging open, couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t what he was expecting Floyd to say, hoping he’d say.
‘Adamson’s?’
‘Yeah. He was—’
‘I know who he was, is. He’s still alive.’
Floyd snorted.
‘That’s not what I call alive.’
For a brief moment Evan almost felt sorry for Floyd. He wasn’t sure what was worse—being in a coma or spending the rest of your life in prison, which is what Floyd had to look forward to.
‘You sure it was his?’
‘If you found it in the room next to ...’
Next to where Daniel and Robbie Clayton were buried alive?
‘That’s where I found it,’ Evan said, perplexed that Floyd couldn’t say the words.
‘Then it’s got to be his. He used to go down there all the time. Don’t ask me what he did down there.’
‘Do you know where he got it?’
‘Yup.’
That was it. Evan waited. He needed to move this along. He’d lose his chance once Guillory and the others got here.
‘There’s nothing else on the table, Floyd. I’ll bury Marlene like I said.’
Floyd’s eyes opened a little wider, saw the hint of a smile on Evan’s lips.
‘You tend to remember the name of a dog that’s trying to get its teeth around your throat.’
Floyd smiled at that. Happy memories. His beautiful girl ripping out a man’s throat.
‘In your sister’s garage, right.’
His smile was rueful, seemed to say, we had some fun back in the day, didn’t we? Evan let him enjoy his memories. It was all he had left after all. He didn’t ask him to share them.
‘Come on Floyd. If the others get here before you tell me—’
‘Okay, okay. You win. But I got to say first, Adamson was full of shit.’
Evan nodded. Full of shit or not, it had to better than nothing. Later on, he wouldn’t be so sure about that.
‘He spent some time working for a bunch of low-life drug dealers—’
‘When was this?’
‘Five, six years ago.’
Evan’s gut twisted. He swallowed hard.
‘There was a situation, I don’t know what it was about. Adamson and his partner had to meet some guy, pick up a delivery. It’s what they did, except this one was different. They were told to whack this guy soon as they had the goods—’
A shout from behind them made Evan turn his head. Guillory and a couple of other cops had just come around the curve in the path leading into the clearing. He turned back to Floyd, saw the smile on his face.
‘Your girlfriend got here too early, eh? For both of us.’
Evan didn’t have time to question the girlfriend remark—Floyd had been stalking him for weeks after all, would’ve seen them together.
‘What happened?’
He grabbed Floyd by the shoulder, shook him. Lucky for Floyd, or lucky for him, it was the good one.
‘Evan!’
Guillory’s voice rang out across the clearing. She broke into a run. Evan ignored her.
‘What happened?’
‘When the guy turned up he had a woman with him. They weren’t expecting that.’
Evan froze, the breath caught in his throat, his gut feeling like he was the one nailed upside-down to the barn. He didn’t know if he wanted Floyd to carry on or not. It wasn’t his call now. Floyd was determined to get the story out—whether to help or hurt him was anybody’s guess. His eyes flicked between Evan’s eyes and Guillory running hard across the clearing.
‘What was her name?’
Floyd shook his head. It was the truth.
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Evan. Move away!’
He ignored her again. She’d have to shoot him to get him out the way.
‘They were going to kill them both. Then at the last minute they got a call.’
Guillory and the other cops were right behind them now. They stopped dead, breathing heavily. It was as if the tension in the air between Evan and Floyd was holding them at bay.
Evan’s mouth was moving silently, mouthing the words he wanted to hear.
Floyd closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, held it. Evan didn’t know if it was a spasm of pain or he was just putting him through the wringer as long as possible. He wanted to punch him either way.
Floyd’s eyes popped open. His lips curled in a grin.
The three cops looked at him, looked at each other, everyone hanging on his words, words that meant nothing to them.
‘They got called off.’
Evan’s whole body slumped. He felt like a boned chicken, nothing inside him to stop his body collapsing in on itself. The relief was short lived. He’d been short-changed. His head snapped up off his chest. Floyd hadn’t told him a damn thing that was connected to Sarah. He’d told him a story about a woman who got a last-minute reprieve. So what?
‘What about the Zippo?’
He grabbed hold of both Floyd’s shoulders and shook him. Floyd winced in pain. The cops behind them shifted from foot to foot. Guillory was in the middle. She stretched out her arms, held the other two back with a look.
‘Adamson said it was the woman’s. Said he took it off her when they were going to kill them and kept it anyway.’
Evan’s mind went into freefall.
‘Okay, that’s enough,’ Guillory said, breaking the tension. She put her hand on Evan’s elbow and led him away, left the others to deal with Floyd.
‘Remember what I said,’ Floyd shouted after them.
Evan stopped and turned to look at him. Guillory couldn’t budge him, might as well have tried moving along one of the trees. She stopped trying, shook her head wearily instead. Where Evan was concerned, what will be, will be.
‘Adamson was full of shit. I don’t know I ever believed a word came out his mouth.’
Chapter 52
‘YOU STILL AT THE airport?’ Guillory said, raising her voice to combat the noise coming down the line.
‘Yup. Flight was delayed two hours,’ Evan said. ‘Just what I didn’t need.’
He’d called her to try to stop his mind driving him crazy. He didn’t know if he was better or worse off than before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the story Floyd told him. Was Adamson really called off at the last minute? He couldn’t imagine Floyd making that up to spare his feelings—if the woman was even Sarah in the first place. Maybe Adamson lied to Floyd, didn’t want to admit to a man he’d served next to in the military that he’d shot a man and a woman in cold blood on the instructions of some two-bit drug dealer. The only thing he knew for sure was he’d never get a chance to ask Adamson himself.
Actually, now he thought about it, he was much worse off than before.
Thanks a lot, Floyd.
So, he’d called Guillory to shoot the breeze. He hadn’t asked her what she made of the story she’d overheard. He wasn’t sure he ever would. Seeing the effect it had on him, she’d chosen not to volunteer an opinion. Not yet anyway.
‘Shouldn’t be long now. I’m standing here with a piece of card and Sterling Yates written on it, along with all the other limo drivers.’
‘Hope you’re wearing your peaked cap.’
‘Shined my shoes too.’
She was about to say it would’ve been nice if he’d made the same effort when he took her to dinner, then decided against it. She was still sore about the whole thing, didn’t want to bring it up now.
‘Anyway, what did you do about the dog?’
‘Dropped it in a dumpster. What do you think I am, stupid?’
There was a long pause, the silence interrupted by the sound of a flight announcement. Guillory chose to say something in the middle of it.
‘What was that?’ Evan said, once it was over.
‘I said that’s exactly what I think you are. I’ve met you, remember? But despite all your other faults, you’re not an insensitive bastard and you don’t break your promises.’
He laughed, feeling better already, now he’d called her. He scanned the passengers trickling through from the immigration hall, red-eyed and looking forward to bed. Why he did it, he had no idea, seeing as he didn’t know what Sterling Yates looked like from Adam.
‘You’re right. We buried her this morning. At the edge of the clearing.’
‘We? How many people does it take to bury a dog?’
‘Did you forget someone shot me in the leg with an arrow?’
Guillory made a very unsympathetic noise down the line.
‘Big baby. I’ve had worse puncture wounds pruning the roses.’
‘I’ll remember those kind words when I’m trying to think what to spend my bonus on.’
‘Aw, you want mommy to kiss it better?’
The throbbing pain in his leg, the one the painkillers couldn’t quite reach, eased as a shiver rippled through him at the thought. Where else might he be prepared to take an arrow?
‘Who’d you get to do all the work while you supervised?’
‘Well, there was Kyle—’
An incredulous snort filled his ear, echoing unpleasantly.
‘What, after Floyd nearly hanged him?’
‘He feels guilty. Feels it was all his fault I got shot because of his mouth.’
Another snort.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Floyd was going to shoot you whatever happened. It’s why he lured you there.’
The throng of passengers coming through had thickened, a fluid mass of humanity dragging wheeled suitcases. Evan moved towards the front, held the name board prominently. Sterling could easily miss him. People don’t tend to read name boards if they’re not expecting to be met.
‘I know that. Kyle doesn’t. Also means I get my car washed for free every week until my leg heals.’
Guillory couldn’t help laughing.
‘I suppose you suffer an unexplained relapse every time you go around there? The limp gets a lot worse.’
‘My mind doesn’t work like yours, Kate.’
‘Liar.’
‘Anyway, Mitch did most of the digging. He feels guilty as well because he didn’t take any notice of me after Floyd attacked me in their house. Thinks it’s his fault Kyle got snatched.’
‘So it’s a chain-guilt sort of thing. I suppose Kyle gets him to clean your car for him.’
He didn’t think it was such a bad idea, although he wasn’t going to tell her that.
‘Jesus, Kate. I’ll never understand how women’s minds work.’
She pretended she hadn’t heard.
‘Anyway, Kyle wanted to show him where the big adventure went down—which is what it is now that he’s safely out of harm’s way.’
‘Yeah, kids are good at bouncing back.’
An attractive young woman had stopped in front of Evan, a puzzled look on her face. Evan moved to the side so she didn’t block his board from the view of the passengers streaming past, most of them with their eyes glued to their phones.
‘They won’t let him out of their sight now, either.’
‘Not even with Uncle Evan?’
He heard the mocking tone in her voice and downgraded the restaurant he planned to take her to make up for last time. The young woman had stepped in front of him again like she was doing it deliberately.
‘Especially with Uncle Evan. I won’t repeat what Charlotte said. Hang on a sec, Kate.’
He looked at the young woman, ready to ask her to move out the way. He noticed for the first time how attractive she was. It was a pity it wasn’t her he was meeting. Another passenger with his head up his ... sorry, with his eyes glued to his phone banged into her, knocking her out the way. She scowled at his back as he carried on oblivious.
Serves you right for standing there in the way.
‘I’m Sterling Yates,’ the young woman said, pointing to herself. ‘I didn’t order a limo.’
Evan’s mouth dropped open, not the best look you want to present when you first meet an attractive woman. He’d assumed Sterling Yates was a man. He held up a finger and ended the call to Guillory.
‘I’m here on behalf of your grandfather.’
Her eyebrows lifted.
So he’s not such a bad old stick after all.
‘I’m surprised after what he said about me going away. It must be his way of saying sorry. Talking about saying sorry, you were obviously expecting a man. Bad start.’
Despite the words, the sparkle in her eyes told him she was joking. It was a name given to boys and girls after all.
‘No, not that grandfather’—now it was her turn to drop her jaw—‘the other one.’
‘I don’t—’
‘If you like, I’ll bet you I can make up for the bad start—and then some.’
She shook her head and looked at him as if he was a madman who’d somehow got hold of her name and written it on a piece of card in order to kidnap her.
‘Let’s go and sit down. Trust me, you’ll need to.’
They found a couple of seats in a quiet corner, as far away from the other passengers as possible which only increased her unease. Was her stomach doing the same back flips as his?
Then he told her who he was, what he was doing waiting for her and who her grandfather was. The last piece of information hit her like a slap around the
face—even though he hadn’t said anything about the amount of money involved. He’d been trying to ease her into it. Seems he’d slipped up somewhere. He couldn’t see where.
She leaned towards him, eyes wide, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘You’re telling me Frank Hanna is my grandfather? Or was.’
‘Uh-huh. Why, do you know who he is?’
She threw herself back in her chair, ran her hand through her dark hair.
‘Frank Hanna? As in Hanna Pharmaceuticals? Of course I know who he is. I’m a doctor.’
He waited while she took it all in, watched a whole range of emotions pass across her face. It would take some time for the full implications to sink in. At the moment it looked as if it was a free-for-all in her mind.
‘Did I make up for the bad start?’
She smiled at him which did a few things—told him he’d done it in spades, made him wish he was ten years younger, just for starters.
‘I need a drink,’ she said.
‘What do you want? Coffee?’ he said, getting up.
She looked at him as if he was the one who’d just got off a ten-hour transatlantic flight and whose brain was frazzled.
‘You can have coffee ...’
They found an up-market seafood and champagne bar and got a couple of seats up at the counter. Evan ordered a bottle of the house champagne which got a nod of approval from Sterling. Just because you can afford to buy the whole vineyard, doesn’t mean you have to act like it.
‘From the look on your face I’d say Hanna Pharmaceutical is a good company,’ he said once the bartender had filled their glasses.
‘Good? Do you have any idea how much Hanna Pharm gives to charity every year?’
That wasn’t what he’d meant by good. It seemed it was her yardstick. Then he remembered her interest in Médecins Sans Frontières. He still didn’t have any idea how much so he said the first number that came into his head—the amount of the bonus he was due for the assignment, the number with all the zeros after it.
She smiled knowingly.
‘I’m impressed. You got it. That’s almost exactly the amount—per week.’
His first reaction was surprise. Then his mind made the connection on a non-monetary level. For successfully tracking down Sterling he was about to be paid the equivalent of a week’s worth of medical aid, a week’s worth of essential medical supplies. If he was about to receive a day’s worth he’d have felt ...he didn’t know what he’d have felt.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 87