She gave it some thought. Before she could think of anything useful, the van lurched to the left as the driver threw it too fast around a corner. Without his arms to steady himself, Evan was thrown sideways into her. His head smacked her in the mouth, split her lip. She let out a sharp hiss. Gave him a look like maybe he’d done it deliberately to get her back for butting him in Rachel’s hallway. A trickle of blood ran down her chin.
‘Hold still,’ he said.
He leaned in and licked it off. His tongue was very warm.
‘There. We don’t want to give them any ideas. You were saying?’
She was speechless for a couple of beats.
‘Suck your lip,’ he said. ‘Unless you want it to drip on your blouse. That’d be harder to get out.’
For a moment he thought she was going to ask if he wanted to suck it for her. He had his answer ready if she did. But the moment had passed.
‘We tell them the truth.’
‘All of it?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Why?’
‘Well,’ she said. He didn’t like the way she stretched it out to about five syllables. It suggested she was making it up as she went along, buying time. ‘You said Carly told you she stole the money with Dixie from this guy Chico.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘So he’ll be happy to hear Dixie’s dead. And if he gets his money back as well, he’ll think he’s had a good day. Look favorably on the people who deliver it back to him. That sort of thing.’
He nodded along like it wasn’t the biggest pile of horseshit he’d heard in a long time.
‘Give them a pat on the back and a wad of cash for their trouble?’
She smiled wishfully.
‘Maybe not that favorably. I still think it’s our best bet.’
‘What if he’s a no-loose-ends sort of guy?’
‘Then we’re screwed.’
‘And if they find out you’re a cop?’
‘I’d say we’re definitely screwed. So don’t call me Detective Guillory, okay?’
‘What should I call you instead? Detective . . .’
She showed him her teeth. He didn’t mention the smear of blood on them.
‘I notice you don’t come out with nearly as many smart comments when I haven’t got the cuffs on.’
‘Make hay while the sun shines. What about Carly?’
‘What about her?’
‘You think if he gets his money back and we tell him Dixie’s dead, she gets a free pass?’
‘You’ve got a point. Tell him the truth. We’ve got no idea where she is.’
‘Right. That should do it.’
She opened her mouth to reply when the van suddenly jerked to a halt.
‘Looks like we’re here. No more time for plans.’
‘Plans? Is that what that was?’
‘We’ll just have to fly by the seat of our pants.’
Chapter 58
‘DIXIE’S DEAD?’ Chico’s eyes went wide, his jaw slack.
He wasn’t what Evan and Guillory were expecting—a pleasant-looking, trim sixty-something Mexican guy. They were standing in front of him in his spacious office. Apart from the cuffs, Evan felt like he’d been called in for an uncomfortable interview with the school principal after being caught with his hand up one of the girl’s skirts. He made a mental note for later to ask Guillory if she’d felt like that girl.
Nobody had hit them yet. Although there was still plenty of time for that.
‘Who killed him?’
Evan bit his tongue. Tried to keep his face impassive. A flicker of something passed behind Guillory’s eyes. It was fast but Chico saw it.
‘What?’
‘The police think I did it,’ Evan said. He felt her head snap around, hoped he’d made the right call.
Chico raised an eyebrow.
‘And did you?’
‘No, but they’ve got my fingerprints on the shell casings. As far as certain people are concerned that’s good enough.’
‘How do you explain that?’
Evan shrugged.
‘I can’t. Yet. I’m working on it.’
Chico’s grin grew wider.
‘You be sure to let me know how that pans out. How did you get hold of the tracker?’
‘I’ve got a contact in the police department,’ Evan said quickly, the words flowing as if he’d practiced the answer many times. ‘She got the number from Dixie’s phone.’
Chico’s eyes narrowed. Evan held his breath. Chico turned his head slightly as if he found that a bit hard to swallow. But then he smiled again. Leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his chin on his hands.
‘She must really like you if she’s prepared to pass information to the main suspect.’
‘She’s only human. But you’re right, I think she’s got a crush on me.’
Guillory shifted from foot to foot beside him. He half expected to feel the heel of her shoe raked down his shin.
‘Where’s the money?’
‘The bag was empty.’
Chico nodded. It made sense. If it was his guys who’d killed Rachel, he already knew the cash had been moved.
‘What happened to your neck? You’re not into all that autoerotic stuff, are you? Hanging yourself in the closet while you jerk off?’
Everybody in the room laughed—including Guillory—although Evan knew she was thinking uh-oh inside, just as he was. They hadn’t thought of an explanation for that.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Chico lifted a hand. ‘I’m sure it’s none of my business.’
It was a hell of a strange interrogation. Apart from the cuffs, they might as well have stayed and had this chat in the bar.
Chico got up. Went and poured himself a drink.
‘I’d offer you one.’ He dropped a couple of ice cubes into the glass. ‘But unless you want to drink it through a straw . . .’
‘We don’t mind if you take the cuffs off.’
Chico gave him a nice try smile. Sat back down. Pushed the glass around in a figure eight motion on what remained of the desk top. It looked like someone took a chainsaw to it. He didn’t take a drink. Everybody’s eyes were on the glass.
‘So that’s about it, is it?’ Chico said suddenly, still playing with the glass. ‘You hit a dead end. Decided to call it a day. Go for a beer instead in the Jerusalem.’
He looked Evan directly in the eye.
The moment of truth, the absolute whole truth, had arrived. But Chico didn’t give him time to think of an answer.
‘You didn’t go to another self-storage unit and nearly get strangled to death by Dixie’s brother, Jackson?’
Gotcha.
Everybody in the room held their breath.
‘And then pick up the money after the manager or security guard or whatever he calls himself brained Jackson?’
Chico smiled like a snake would smile at a small rodent.
Evan managed to nod.
‘Good, good.’ Chico rubbed his hands together. ‘There’s just one thing I’m confused about. Where was your friend here’—he gestured towards Guillory with the bottom of his glass—‘when all the fun and games with Jackson was going down?’
‘I was outside in the car.’
Chico pulled a face in mock surprise.
‘She can talk.’
‘I didn’t think it took two people to go inside to collect one small suitcase. Even a man should be able to do it.’
‘Looks like you were wrong. You need to get a better partner.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Her tone had a lot more heartfelt feeling than Evan wanted to hear.
Chico clapped his hands together as if he was bringing a successful board meeting to a close.
‘So all we need now is my money.’
He beamed at them.
‘The case is in his hotel room,’ Guillory said.
Evan hoped he kept the shock off his face. What the hell happened to telling the truth? Sure, the case was there, b
ut . . . he hoped she knew what she was doing.
One of the guys fished Evan’s keys out of his pocket. Evan gave them the address. Then they were bundled downstairs to wait for Chico’s guys to get back with a suitcase full of old newspapers.
***
‘WHAT HAPPENED TO TELLING the truth?’
Evan looked around the room as he said it. Things were getting stranger by the minute. They were in a luxurious medium-sized home movie theatre. Whatever happened to a good old concrete floor and a hard, wooden chair? He dropped into one of the comfortable-looking leather armchairs. Seems they weren’t designed for sitting in with your hands cuffed behind your back. He sat on the arm instead.
‘Whatever he says, there’s no way he was letting us go once he got his hands on the money,’ Guillory said. ‘He holds all the cards. Why would he?’
‘He sure as hell won’t when they get back with a suitcase full of old newspaper.’
‘Not both of us, no. But he’ll let you go.’
He looked at her as if she was making up words.
‘We have to convince him Carly tricked everybody from the get go—’
He let out a strangled laugh.
‘It’s back to telling the truth, you mean.’
Her expression said it all. Why couldn’t he have recognized that in the first place? Then none of this would have happened. He knew what she was thinking, didn’t have a lot to say for himself.
‘You need to persuade him you’re his best bet. Hopefully he’ll send you after her and the money. You pick up the cash. Then we’ve got something to trade.’
‘He’ll send somebody with me.’
‘You’ll have to deal with that situation in the best way you can.’
He shook his head in frustration.
‘Like how?’
‘No idea. Improvise.’
‘Great plan.’
She gave him a hard look, one that made him glad they were still cuffed.
‘It’s the best we’ve got. If you hadn’t put the tracker in your pocket we wouldn’t need a plan at all.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m his insurance policy. To make sure you come back.’
‘And if you’ve completely misread him?’
‘Then we’re screwed.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that.’
She shrugged, deal with it. Then she laughed suddenly, a totally inappropriate response under the circumstances.
‘There is one more thing you need to know.’
Her face told him it wasn’t the good news that she’d saved until last.
‘You’ve got half a problem with the cash.’
He waited. Didn’t even query what the hell half a problem was.
‘I bought a couple of duffel bags to put the money in. I put one of them in my locker at the gym.’
Something bad was coming. He held his breath. Wanted to shout get to the point.
‘I put the other one in my other locker.’
Your other locker he mouthed.
She nodded.
‘At work.’
He tried the word out.
Work.
She held up a finger.
‘It’s not all bad.’
He didn’t want to hear.
‘If they’d fitted, I’d have put them both there.’
Chapter 59
CHICO STARED AT THE suitcase sitting open on his desk, a very thin layer of bills lying on top of a very thick layer of newspaper. If suitcases could laugh, it was laughing at him now. Giving him the finger too. The investigator claimed they didn’t know the combination. So they’d broken the lock. Found a couple of hundred bucks and lots of last year’s news.
That wasn’t all.
Now he had an irritating buzzing in his ears. Like a mosquito when you turn the light out at night. You turn the light back on. It stops. You turn it off again. It starts up. You know you’re not going to get any peace until you deal with it.
The only difference was the mosquito had a name this time—Diego. His own flesh and blood. If they made a fly swatter big enough he’d have happily used it to shut him up.
‘She has to be punished,’ Diego shouted for the hundredth time. He was giving Chico a headache. ‘You can’t let her get away with stealing three million of our money. She’s laughing at us.’
And there was the problem in a nutshell. She was laughing. But when Diego said us, what he meant was me. Not Chico or anybody else. Chico didn’t actually give a damn about that. What he cared about was he’d never get another minute’s peace and quiet until the situation was over one way or the other.
‘She’s laughing at you.’
Diego stuffed his hands into the suitcase. Brought out a great handful of old newspaper. He dropped it back into the case. Slammed the lid shut.
‘I heard you the first time.’
‘Then do something about it,’ Diego yelled, his hands resting on the suitcase, face thrust towards Chico.
‘What do you suggest?’
‘Send the investigator after her.’
‘You don’t even know she’s got the money. Those two downstairs might have filled the case with paper.’
‘They didn’t have the combination.’
‘They couldn’t have filled the case with newspaper, locked it and told you they didn’t have the combination?’ Chico said as if he was talking to a puppy.
The briefest doubt passed behind Diego’s dark eyes.
‘It’s just like her. I know her.’
Chico knew when he was beaten.
‘Bring them up here.’
***
‘OPEN IT UP.’ Chico waved his hand at Evan before he remembered they were both still cuffed. He reached over, flipped the lid open, watching them intently as he did it. ‘You two need to work on your surprised faces.’
‘We didn’t open it.’
Chico gave him a head-cocked look.
‘You expect me to believe that? You’ve just picked up a suitcase you believe holds three million in cash and you don’t even check.’
He looked around at his guys. Got a bunch of I don’t think so head shakes.
‘I told you. We haven’t got the combination.’
Chico looked at him as if he must have slipped and banged his head in the basement.
‘What do you reckon happened?’
Evan opened his mouth to speak but Chico talked over him.
‘Actually, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood for any more bullshit. I don’t know or care who filled that case with paper or why. All I know is someone’s got my money and I want it back. And the thieving puta who stole it.’
He threw the last of his drink down his neck. Kept the glass in his hand. Stood up and walked around to stand in front of Evan and Guillory.
‘Look at my desk,’ he said.
They both looked. He up-ended the glass, tipped the ice onto the floor, at the same time.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I’ll get a guy in and he’ll bring sandpaper and varnish and some new leather. He’ll have it looking like new in no time.’
Without warning he smashed the rim of the glass on the edge of the table. Held up the jagged base for them to see.
‘You think a surgeon could do as good a repair job on your faces?’
Neither of them said a word.
‘You want to know what I think?’
‘No,’ Evan said, his eyes never leaving the glass. ‘But you’re going to tell us anyway.’
‘Damn right.’
Chico took a fast step forward. Cupped the back of Evan’s head in his hand. Held the broken glass in his face.
‘I think you’d look like a patchwork quilt for the rest of your life.’
Evan held his eyes. Better than the glass. Then Chico dropped his hands. Stood in front of Guillory. Stroked her cheek.
‘At least a patchwork quilt’s good for something. You could use this one to keep you warm at night.’
He pu
t his arm around her shoulders. Pointed at Evan with the glass.
‘Unfortunately for me, you’re our best bet to get the money. And Carly. We’ll start in the morning. Diego, you take somebody and go with Mr Buckley here. Try not to lose him.’
He squeezed Guillory’s shoulder, still looking at Evan.
‘Meanwhile, we’re going out to the country for a couple of days. If you’re not back by then. . .’
He glanced at José leaning against the wall, the implication clear. Evan followed his gaze as he was meant to do. But he didn’t see José as he was. Bored, eyes half-closed. Looking down as he cleaned the toe of his boot against the back of his calf. Saw him instead with eyes wide-open, glistening. Standing over a woman in a kitchen. Saw blood dripping from the knife in his hand, pooling on the floor. In his mind José moved to the side to give him a better view. And it wasn’t Rachel’s or even Sarah’s face he saw begging, pleading . . .
It was as if José sensed they were staring at him. He looked up. It seemed to Evan his gaze lingered on Guillory. Then he smiled the smile of a man with time on his side, a man who could afford to wait two days.
‘Send her instead,’ Evan blurted out. ‘Keep me here as your insurance policy.’
Chico stopped mid-stride on his way back behind his desk. He looked at Evan with something close to respect. Surprised respect, maybe, but respect just the same. He looked from Evan to Guillory. Then back to Evan. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips.
‘That’s very gallant of you, but no. And something tells me she’s more than just your partner, eh? Someone who already keeps you warm at night. You’re a lucky guy. I’d hate for José here to be so lucky.’
‘Take all the time in the world,’ José said, his eyes still on Guillory. They weren’t half-closed now either.
Chapter 60
TODD STRANGE LOVED HIS job. He killed people and got paid for it as well. What’s not to love? He was possessed of a moral compass that wasn’t so much broken as it didn’t come with a needle in the first place. He wasn’t picky about who he killed or who he worked for.
He liked working for the pedos. They paid top dollar. Sometimes in cash and sometimes in kind. If he thought about it at all, he reckoned the ones who liked little boys were perverts and degenerates. He’d have liked to take a few of them out. No charge. But the little girls were nice. He liked little girls.
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