‘I don't know how you read that.’
She did him a favor and acted like she hadn’t heard.
‘I went through his cell phone. He made a couple of calls to this number’—she prodded a number written in the notebook with her finger—‘the last one on the day he was shot. The same day he came to see you.’
Evan started to say something. She held up her hand to stop him.
‘I’ll come back to that in a minute. He also had this written on a scrap of paper.’
She prodded again. Evan looked closer. It was just a string of random letters.
‘What’s that? Some kind of code?’
She shrugged, could be.
‘And he had a copy of the Serenity Prayer. There was something written on the back but it wasn’t important.’
Evan raised an eyebrow.
‘He’s an alcoholic?’
‘Is or was. Or maybe he thinks it’s a nice prayer.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘It’s not only alcoholics who need to pay attention to the words. You know the line about the wisdom to know the difference?’
It was clear the comment was aimed at him. He didn't know if she was referring to his fruitless search for Sarah or something else. His whole life perhaps?
‘Anything else?’
‘Now you mention it’—she paused, putting her hand in her pocket—‘there was this.’
She pulled her hand out. Placed a key on the counter. Then she caught sight of the look on his face.
‘Don’t worry, it’s a copy. There’s an all-night locksmith down the block.’
He took a moment to rearrange his face, force a vapid smile onto it.
‘That’s okay then.’
‘You’re worth it. My guess is it unlocks something that’s either there’—she pointed to the line of random letters—‘or there.’ She tapped another address she’d written down.
‘Where’d you get that address from?’
‘The number Delacroix rang on the day he was shot is a tracker. If you call the number, it sends you a link to an online map.’
‘So you think the money’s at one of those locations, do you? If that line of gibberish is even an address at all.’
There was something in his tone that made her lean away, give him a look, one that he knew well.
‘What aren’t you telling me?’
He fished in his pocket, pulled out the address Carly had given him. Told her where it came from. She didn’t pass comment, waited for him to tell her why she was wrong.
‘They’re not the same. I think that’—he pointed to the tracker’s address in her notebook—‘is where it was before Carly moved it.’ He waved his piece of paper in the air. ‘This is where it is now.’
She shook her head.
‘It all comes back to the same old thing. Do you believe a word she says? Think carefully now, before you answer.’
He didn’t need to think carefully at all. Yes, she was a liar. That didn’t mean she’d send him on a wild goose chase. What would that achieve?
‘Okay, tell you what we’ll do,’ he said, climbing down from his stool. ‘We’ll check your address first, then mine. And if neither of them pan out, we’ll try to figure that out.’ He jabbed the line of jumbled letters with his finger. She pocketed her notebook and followed him out into the bright morning sunshine.
They should have spent a few minutes enjoying that bright sunshine, let it warm not just their faces but their hearts too, because by the time the day was over neither of them would be able to imagine anything being bright or sunny ever again.
Chapter 39
IT STILL WASN’T EIGHT o’clock when they got to the storage facility. On the way over she explained her thinking to him.
‘Whoever bought this tracker didn’t spend a lot of money. That’s good and bad. Good because all you need is the phone number and it sends you the location. Anybody can call it. The more expensive units have a web-based service that you have to log into. You need the password. The bad news is because it’s cheap it isn’t as accurate. You’re going to have to try the key in a lot of locks.’
He started to protest about the word you.
‘You won’t have to try all of them. Start with the smallest ones first.’
He nodded.
‘Nobody’s going to rent a big space to store one bag.’
‘Exactly. That’s why I dragged you out of bed so early. They’ll have CCTV monitoring the whole place, but the guy on duty is coming to the end of a twelve-hour shift. All he wants to do is get home to bed. I’ll ask him a bunch of questions about renting some space to distract him. You slip past and find the right unit. The small units are probably upstairs so that cuts it down even more.’
He nodded at her handbag.
‘Your lipstick’s in there, is it?’
She didn’t even want to hear what he was going to say next.
‘I assumed you’d be putting some on to distract him.’ He puckered up his lips immediately after saying the word distract. ‘Maybe loosen a button or two.’
The sharp smack on the back of his head told him the only thing she was planning on loosening was his head from his shoulders. Hopefully on a permanent basis.
The duty manager was dozing in his chair when she went in. She leaned out the door and waved. Evan slipped past, ignored the elevator, heading for the stairs. She waited quietly by the desk. No point in waking the guy unless she had to.
Upstairs it was easier than Evan thought. He found the section with the small units, ran his eye along them. There were about twenty in all. Something caught his eye. One of the padlocks was hanging open, hooked through the hasp. It didn’t mean it was the right unit. Still, he got a good feeling about it. The fact that nobody would leave a unit with three million inside unlocked didn’t give him quite such a good feeling. He unhooked it anyway, tried the key. It didn’t fit. Strange. Maybe it wasn’t the right unit after all. He opened the door anyway. Flicked on the light and stepped inside.
Immediately he knew it was the right one.
On the far side of the room a solitary bag sat in the corner.
It was obvious from the way it folded in on itself like a giant fortune cookie that it was empty. He crouched down, pulled it open. It almost smelled of money. There certainly wasn’t any in there now. It was empty apart from a small black plastic box—the tracker he presumed. He picked it up, turned it over in his hand, amazed at how much technology you can fit into such a small box.
He dropped it into his pocket. No point in letting it go to waste. It might come in useful one day. Later, he’d be proved right about that, just not in the way he imagined. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen.
‘Hi honey, how much space did you say we need?’ Guillory’s voice said in his ear. ‘That’s what I thought,’ she carried on after a short pause. ‘Okay, I’m going outside to look at the loading bay with the manager here. You heading out now? Okay, see you later.’
‘Love you too,’ Evan said and ended the call.
He headed back downstairs and let himself out. Thirty feet away Guillory was shaking her head. Pointing at the loading bay door while the manager fumbled in his pocket for a tape measure. Evan strolled back to the car to wait for her.
***
‘THE BAG WAS EMPTY, honey,’ Evan said when she got in the car.
‘You liked that, huh? I have to say, the word nearly caught in my throat knowing it was you on the other end of the line.’
‘I know. You felt like you were cheating on Ryder. Anyway, it looks like Carly was telling the truth about moving the money.’
To Guillory it sounded a lot like I told you so.
‘Okay, where’s that address she gave you?’
He cleared his throat. The sound immediately rang warning bells in her head.
‘There’s something I want to do first.’
‘Right,’ she said stretching it out for a good two seconds. ‘Something that’s pushed saving
your ass into second place. It must be good.’
He looked down. Picked at the callused skin on his palm. He was fully aware of the reaction he was going to get from her. He flicked a piece of dead skin onto the floor.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she said before he got a chance to say anything. She twisted in her seat to roast the side of his head with her glare.
‘What?’
He knew damn well what. She knew him too well.
‘You can’t find Sarah if you’re in jail, Evan. Keeping out of jail has to be your number one priority.’
He got the photograph he’d found in Carly’s suitcase out of his pocket, turned it over.
‘I want to go there.’
She read the name.
Dexter’s.
‘I don’t even know what that is.’
‘It’s a bar. At first I thought it was where this photo was taken, down in Florida or wherever they were on vacation. I looked it up. It’s not in Florida or anywhere else. It’s right here. And if it’s written on the back of a photo of Carly and Dixie and—’
‘What you think is Sarah’s arm?’
‘Yes, what I think is Sarah’s arm, then it’s worth checking out. Get a feel for the place.’
‘That’s all, huh?’
‘Have you ever known me to lie, Kate?’
‘Only to get what you want.’
He chanced a little you got me smile.
‘Okay, maybe show her photo around.’
‘It’s in the evidence room. And no, I’m not going back to get it. You can’t go home to get another one either unless you want it to look at while you’re sitting in a prison cell.’
‘I’m going anyway.’
She stared at him for an uncomfortable length of time.
‘There’s more to this than you’re saying.’
He dropped another piece of dead skin onto the floor, flicked it away with his toe.
‘Okay.’ The word had a you asked for it quality to it. ‘There’s a possibility Carly really did give the money to Sarah and she lives in that house, under what name I really don’t know or care. So, either she’s disappeared like Carly claims or she’s still in that house. Either way, it’s her house. She chooses to live there. She’s not been kidnapped, killed or abducted by aliens. She simply chose to start a new life. One without me.’
He laced his fingers together and stretched his arms, pushed until the joints clicked.
‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I wish that bag hadn’t been empty and we didn’t have to go there at all.’
‘What difference will going to the bar make? What happens if you go there and everybody says, yeah, I know her, she comes in every Friday night, leaves with a different guy? She still hasn’t been abducted or killed.’
He gave an angry shake of his head. When he wanted to hear inconvenient inconsistencies, he’d ask for them.
‘Maybe I just need a drink before I go there. Good enough?’
She stared at him a few beats. Judging from his expression, she had the option of punching his head a few times and not changing his mind, or saving her breath and her knuckles and not changing his mind.
And she’d be very grateful of having had a drink herself later on. She was going to need it.
Chapter 40
THE LUNCHTIME CROWD WAS filling out as Evan and Guillory took a couple of seats at the bar.
‘Seen her yet?’
‘Ha, ha.’
Evan watched the bartender as he polished glasses. The guy was totally OCD. No sooner had he finished cleaning one of them and put it away, he’d pick it up again, hold it up to the light and start rubbing away at imaginary finger marks.
‘Is that her there?’
Guillory nodded towards a young woman sitting two seats away from them. Evan couldn’t help glancing quickly across at her even though he knew Guillory was pulling his chain. She had hair the color of chorizo and about as greasy. She smiled at him, showing him her teeth, not all of them good. Perhaps that’s why she’d covered parts of them with her bright red lipstick. He smiled back, to be polite, turned away again.
‘You need to show her how to put lipstick on. If you can remember.’
‘Idiot. It’s a man.’
Evan looked again, got another big smile. It made him feel queasy. Then a guy slipped into the empty seat between them, blocking her—or him—from view. He nodded at Evan then glanced the other way.
‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’
Evan didn’t say anything immediately, a strange feeling of déjà vu taking hold of him. Then Chorizo Head’s face peeked over the guy’s shoulder, still smiling at him. He shifted, blocked her out again. A cold triangle of sweat glued his shirt to his back.
‘Definitely not.’
‘You sure? I don’t mind moving.’
It seemed to Evan the guy was having a bit too much fun at his expense.
‘No, really. Thanks anyway.’
He swivelled back to Guillory to put an end to the matter. Almost fell into her grin.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at.’
‘Must be nice to make new friends everywhere you go.’
He was starting to regret insisting they came here.
‘Show me the photograph of Carly,’ she said. ‘The one with the arm and bracelet.’
‘Why?’
‘Just do it.’
He didn’t know where this was going but he went along with her anyway. She took the photo from him, studied it intently.
‘Nice bracelet. Whoever it belongs to.’
‘You said you didn’t like it last time.’
‘I’ve changed my mind.’
Leaning forward, she looked along the bar, eyes narrowed. First one way, then the other.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking to see if I can see anyone wearing the bracelet.’
‘Thanks for taking it so seriously, Guillory.’
He was aware of the guy next to him watching her clowning, listening to them with a half-smile on his lips. More interesting than playing with his phone, he supposed.
He snatched at the photograph. She pulled it away, dropped it. It fluttered to the floor. Landed by the guy’s feet next to him. The guy dipped and picked it up, beating Evan to it.
‘Want me to help look?’
He was only joking, joining in the fun. He was already holding it out towards Evan. Then he glanced at it. Evan would’ve sworn he froze momentarily, the faintly superior smile on his face at their antics slipping.
Evan thought about asking him if he was always so damn amenable. Offering to move seats, help looking. Had he ever tried minding his own damn business? But that was the sort of talk that started fights.
‘No, that’s okay. Thanks again.’
He turned back to Guillory, thinking maybe he was the problem after all, the rest of them were right.
She watched a range of emotions crawl across his face—doubt, frustration, and some other things she couldn’t read.
‘She’s not here,’ she said, clamping her hands either side of his head, shaking gently. ‘She’s not coming. I don’t know what we’re doing here.’
To be honest, he didn’t either.
They stared at each other intensely for a couple of beats, his head still in her hands. Then she slid off her stool.
‘I’m going to the bathroom. Then we’re leaving. Next stop, the house where Sarah doesn’t live and never did live.’
He watched her walk across the room in the mirror behind the bar. Directly in front of him the OCD bartender was still polishing like a maniac. He caught Evan’s eye. Evan nodded at the glass in his hand.
‘I think that one’s probably clean enough.’
An image flashed through his mind. Sitting in a diner. A glass of water on the table. Then it was gone.
‘What was that?’ the bartender said, his tone of voice suggesting he thought Evan just told a dirty joke about his mother.
‘Does
n’t matter.’
The bartender wandered off to serve somebody else, a low asshole whispered under his breath as he went.
The guy next to Evan heard it. He turned to face him, a friendly smirk on his lips.
‘So how’s your day going so far?’
Evan snorted. The guy was determined to be sociable. Maybe he didn’t get out much.
‘Pretty good. You?’
The guy shrugged.
‘Not bad. Not sure about the clientele in this place though. Your friend here.’ He gave a small backwards nod towards Chorizo Head, then leaned towards Evan. ‘You think that’s a man?’ he whispered.
Evan pulled a face.
‘Have you seen the hands?’
The guy twisted his head, tried to get a surreptitious look. As he did, Evan happened to glance down at his hand, the one holding his beer glass.
He sat up straighter than if he’d sat on a cattle prod.
‘Gotta be,’ the guy said, turning back. His forehead creased when he saw the look on Evan’s face. ‘Something wrong?’
Evan shook his head. ‘No. It’s your tattoo, that’s all.’ He pointed to the guy’s hand. ‘I met somebody the other day with one exactly like it.’
For an instant the guy’s face froze.
‘Uh-huh.’
He sounded as interested as if Evan had told him the sky was blue. Then, slowly, his smile rebuilt itself.
‘Yeah, it was—’
‘Evan.’
Guillory’s shout reached them from across the room as she summoned him with a wave.
‘Looks like you’re leaving.’
‘Evan.’
Her tone of voice suggested she didn’t want to have to call a third time.
‘Better go.’
The guy put a hand on his arm to stop him for a second.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is your friend a cop by any chance?’
Evan gave him a quizzical look.
‘She is. Although she might not be for much longer.’
The guy smiled as if that explained everything.
‘Thought so. She looks familiar. I think I heard you call her Guillory.’
Evan nodded, no idea where this was going.
Hunting Dixie Page 17