Hunting Dixie

by James, Harper

  She tried to say something but he talked straight over her.

  ‘Actually, maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have anything. I’m going to go now. Try to forget I ever met you. I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure.’

  He cut the call. Turned the phone off for five minutes. It rang the second he turned it back on.

  ‘What do you want, Evan?’ she whined.

  What a beautiful sound.

  ‘You know what, Carly, I don’t think I know any more. Doesn’t matter anyway seeing as you think I’m full of shit. Nice turn of phrase, by the way. Learn that in finishing school, did you?’

  Silence filled the space between them.

  ‘Am I full of it or not? Tell you what, I’m going to give you a day or two to think about it. I’m going to switch the phone off again. It’ll give me some time to make my mind up as well. Maybe we’ll catch up in a couple of days. Sort something out. I’ll say Hi to Jackson when I see him. I’ll be sure to give him this number too.’

  He cut the call, a strangled squawk escaping as he did it. Switched it off. He had no intention of leaving it a day or two. A couple of hours should do it. By the time she called back, she’d be gagging for anything he had to offer.

  Chapter 65

  THE PHONE WENT DEAD in Carly’s ear.

  She had so many questions crashing around in her head she wanted to scream.

  How had Evan got hold of this number?

  How did he end up talking to Chico and Diego?

  And how the hell did he talk to Jackson and somehow turn it around?

  If Jackson’s mood was anything to go by when he left her stranded in the middle of nowhere, Evan should have been dead before he had a chance to open his mouth—let alone convince him it was her that Jackson should be after.

  The prospect of Dixie hunting her down had been bad enough. The thought of Jackson made her blood run cold.

  And she had other, more pressing problems.

  She still had to deal with the guy she’d seen driving away in the old pickup. She didn’t know what he’d been doing there at that time of night. Hearing it suddenly take off like that scared the hell out of her, jumpy as she was in the first place. But he was more scared. She’d already got her phone camera in her hand, had no problem getting a shot of his license plate. It was time to do something with it.

  Time to call Cheryl. Because Cheryl owed her a big favor.

  She met Cheryl when she was working for Chico. Cheryl made the occasional delivery for Chico like she had. They’d got on well even if they weren’t friends. But Cheryl was dumb. Carly found out she was skimming. Gave her the heads up before she got caught. As a result, Cheryl still had two ears and a complete nose attached to her face. It had shaken her up badly. She’d stopped working for them altogether. Concentrated on her day job—at the DMV.

  Favors don’t come much bigger.

  Carly made the call.

  ‘So you’ve stopped as well?’ Cheryl said after they’d got all the updating out of the way.

  ‘Pretty much. I still bump into Diego from time to time.’ It would concentrate Cheryl’s mind if she knew Carly had the opportunity to rat her out if she wanted to. ‘And I see that little psychopath José around town.’

  That should do it.

  Cheryl laughed nervously.

  ‘I need a favor.’ She put all the emphasis on the favour. She’d learned a long time ago how quickly people forgot things. ‘I need you to run a license plate for me.’

  ‘I might lose my job.’

  You might have lost your nose and ears too. See how easy it is to get a job without those.

  ‘It’s just this guy ran into me in an old pickup.’ She put some whine into her voice, saving the sniffs for later. ‘And then he drove off.’

  ‘Why don’t you go to the police if you’ve got the license number?’

  Carly hesitated. Let it stretch out as if she was embarrassed to say. Then she took a deep breath and let rip.

  ‘Because it was in the parking lot of a bar and I’d had a lot to drink and just had a massive fight with the guy I was seeing and it got really loud and they threw us out so I was sitting in the car crying’—she gave a big sniff in case Cheryl didn’t know what crying sounded like—‘when the asshole backed into me and drove off and of course I didn’t want to call the police then and if I’d called them later they’d have said where did it happen and why didn’t you call right away and they’d guess I’d been drinking and give me a dirty look like I’m the one who was at fault and if they went and asked inside the bartender would say you bet she’d been drinking we had to throw her out . . .’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Cheryl cooed down the line. ‘Don’t get upset. Give me the number. I’ll do it now.’

  Carly sniffed again.

  ‘I only want to talk to him. He’s got this crappy old pickup with a stupid bumper sticker and I bet there’s not even a scratch on it and the whole front end of my little car is bashed in . . .’

  ‘Give me the number, Carly, it’s okay.’

  Carly chewed the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning. Read the number out.

  Two minutes later she had a name and an address to go with it.

  Chapter 66

  SOMETHING WAS BOTHERING EVAN. He kept rewinding the conversation with Carly and getting stuck at the same place right at the beginning.

  How did you get . . .

  At first, he thought she was about to say How did you get away? before she caught herself—which would imply she set Jackson on him. That was a distinct possibility. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that wasn’t it at all.

  How did you get this number?

  That’s what she was about to say. And if that was the case it meant she had two phones—the one she’d given him the number for and another one she hadn’t, the old one. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. But he wasn’t one hundred per cent sure. There was only one way to find out. He’d have to go back to the office. Find his phone, compare the numbers.

  He parked a block away, sat watching for ten minutes. He had a good view of his office and the one next door. Diego’s car was still there. What that implied he didn’t want to think about. Everything was quiet. He got out, jogged down the street, cut into the neighboring lot. Hugging the building, he skirted around it until he was next to the dividing bushes. A quick visual scan told him it hadn’t bounced out when he landed on this side. He got down on his hands and knees. Crawled into the bushes.

  Ten minutes and two dried dog turds later and he was positive it wasn’t anywhere on this side. That left the other side. He pushed his way through the branches and old bird’s nests, emerged a few feet away from Diego’s front tire. He glanced up and down. His eyes caught on something.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  There it was. Right behind the front wheel. It had fallen out as he leapt through the air, bounced backwards, come to rest under the car. It was almost out of sight. If he hadn’t been on his hands and knees he’d have missed it.

  He crawled forward like a toddler making a mad dash for freedom, scooped it up. It was still working. He looked at the screen. Laughed out loud. Two missed calls from Carly. She was getting desperate. He shuffled backwards into the bushes again, sat back on his heels. It made him feel ten years old again, hiding in the safety of the greenery. He pulled the throwaway out of his pocket, compared the two numbers.

  Yes.

  She’d called him back using the number he had stored in his contacts—her main phone. The number he’d called her on earlier was completely different. A second phone.

  He needed to get hold of that phone.

  He slipped the throwaway into his pocket. Sat thinking what to do. His main phone was still in his hand, resting on his thigh. It suddenly rang. He jumped at the sound. Answered without looking.

  ‘I said I’d call you back in a day or two.’

  He smiled to himself, enjoying the thought of her desper
ate panic to reach him.

  There was a moment of confused silence.

  It was suddenly filled by the sound of tires crunching on gravel as a police cruiser turned into the parking lot. It pulled to a stop right next to Diego’s car.

  ‘How’s your neck, Evan?’ Jackson’s mocking voice said on the other end of the line.

  ***

  EVAN KILLED THE CALL. He couldn’t talk to anyone right now, let alone Jackson.

  The police cruiser doors opened as one. Two uniformed officers stepped out.

  Evan’s phone rang in his hand.

  The nearest cop turned. Looked across the roof of Diego’s car.

  Evan swiped at the red button to decline the call. Missed it. Tried again. Sweat on his thumb made the screen unresponsive. Stupid thing was working a second ago. Swiped again. Finally, it worked.

  Just not finally enough.

  ‘What was that?’

  It was the cop nearest Evan.

  ‘Probably a squirrel in the bushes.’

  The nearest cop cocked his head.

  ‘Playing with his nuts,’ his partner added. He laughed loudly at his own bad joke.

  ‘Very funny.’

  Evan had his thumb on the power off button. Could almost see the imprint of it coming through his nail. It was taking forever. The cop was still laughing. His partner starting to turn away. The screen dimmed. But not before the first ring of Jackson calling back a third time sounded out, filling the whole parking lot, the whole street as far as Evan was concerned.

  The nearest cop froze.

  ‘How many squirrels you know own a cell phone?’

  Evan crouched down. Curled himself into a ball. Tried to make himself invisible. The nearest cop’s shiny size twelves were visible under Diego’s car. They turned towards him.

  His partner stopped doing what he’d been doing. Sighed heavily.

  ‘I can’t hear a cell phone.’

  They both listened for several seconds.

  Evan held his breath.

  There was a sudden explosion of wings. Right above Evan’s head. He let out a startled gasp. Two Blue Jays burst out of the bushes, their loud, almost gull-like screams filling the air.

  ‘Sorry, my mistake,’ the cop said with a smile in his voice. ‘Blue Jays, not squirrels.’

  ‘Right. And Blue Jays have phones. But not squirrels.’

  ‘You want me to call it in? Two Blue Jays heard fighting in the bushes. In possession of a stolen cell phone. Last seen heading’—he turned his head from side to side looking for them—‘which way did they go?’

  The other cop didn’t say anything. Evan reckoned a hand gesture had been demonstrated. The cop slammed his door.

  ‘Come on then, smartass, let’s get this over with.’

  The pair of them walked across the lot. One of them tried the front doors. They were still unlocked. They gave each other a look, headed inside.

  Evan dragged himself backwards through the bushes, jumped to his feet, ran like hell across the lot and down the street for the second time that day.

  Chapter 67

  ‘YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE to talk to me sooner or later.’ It was Jackson. ‘I’m not going to go away.’

  Evan had made it safely back to his car. He was sitting waiting to catch his breath. Chest heaving, his head thrown back on the headrest. Window down to let the breeze cool the sweat as it dried on his shirt.

  He’d turned his phone back on, waited for it to ring. He didn’t have to wait long. A number he didn’t recognize. He knew who it was anyway.

  ‘Have you called to apologize?’

  ‘Maybe. You never know.’

  ‘How did you get my number?’

  Jackson coughed apologetically, a small ahem sound.

  ‘I had to do something while I was waiting in your office. I went through your desk. Found a business card. You need a better logo, by the way. Did you design it yourself?’

  ‘Last time we met you didn’t give me much of a chance to talk.’

  ‘No, I suppose not. But I’m all ears now.’

  ‘What do you want to talk about?’

  In the background there were the sounds of somewhere busy. It wasn’t a bar. Probably a coffee shop or diner. Then the sound of a cup being put down on a table, a woman’s voice:

  There you go, hon.

  Jackson took a noisy slurp.

  ‘When I say talk, what I really mean is meet up.’

  ‘Why can’t we talk over the phone? The way you said meet up made my neck hurt already.’

  ‘I can understand that. I made the garrotte myself, you know. Pretty good, huh?’

  Evan had a flashback to the guy’s eyes in the mirror as he throttled him.

  Yeah, that worked.

  Down the street a second police cruiser turned into the office parking lot. They’d found something. The question was, one body or two?

  ‘What’s wrong with the phone?’

  ‘Well, for one, it’s going to take all year for you to push three million dollars down the phone line.’

  ‘True. If I had three million dollars.’

  ‘Ho, ho, ho.’

  ‘Or if I wanted to give it to you.’

  ‘That’s a different matter. Maybe we can come to some mutually agreeable arrangement.’

  ‘Do a deal, you mean?’

  ‘If you like.’

  They were both quiet for a moment. Jackson took another slurp of his coffee, made an ugh noise in the back of his throat.

  ‘I feel bad for complaining about the coffee in . . .’

  ‘Prison?’

  ‘You know about that, huh?’ The words rode out on the back of a low chuckle.

  ‘How do I know you won’t take the cash, then finish strangling me because you think I killed your brother? Or have you changed your mind about that?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘What made you think I did it in the first place?’

  ‘Somebody told me.’

  Evan snorted loudly.

  ‘I wonder who that might be. Carly, by any chance?’

  ‘You got it.’

  ‘And you believed her?’

  ‘She was very convincing.’ He snickered. ‘She had a gun in her mouth at the time.’

  Evan got a mental picture of Carly’s face with a gun barrel jammed into that sour mouth, the hard eyes wide with terror. He could believe she’d say anything.

  ‘But now you’ve changed your mind?’

  ‘Let’s say I’m not as convinced as I was.’

  ‘You want to tell me why? I’ve got a vested interest in this after all.’

  There was the sound of a door slamming shut on the other end of the line. Jackson was walking down the street now. His voice had that breathy quality. In the background, traffic sounds.

  ‘I’ve been talking to Diego.’

  ‘He’s there with you?’

  Jackson laughed like it was the stupidest thing he’d heard all day.

  ‘No, not here with me. But I’ve got him tucked away safely.’

  ‘You didn’t kill him then?’

  There was a moment’s silence before Evan broke it.

  ‘I think they’ve found the other guy you shot. I’ve just seen two police cruisers turn up at the office.’

  ‘Yeah, well. He had a gun.’

  ‘You didn’t think it was me you were shooting at?’

  ‘It all happened so fast. Anyway, it wasn’t you. Move on.’

  Evan was speechless a moment. Maybe prison gave you a different perspective. Every day was a bonus.

  ‘What’s Diego been saying?’

  ‘He made me realize what a liar she is. So how about it?’

  Evan gave it some thought.

  He’d already planned on giving Jackson the thumb drive with Dixie’s last message. Once he watched it he’d know Evan wasn’t responsible for his brother’s death. He couldn’t think of anybody he’d rather have on his side to help deal with Carly. And get Guillory out.


  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Walking back to my car.’

  ‘Go back to the diner or coffee shop you were in. I’ll meet you there.’

  ‘You’ve got the money on you now?’ His voice was incredulous.

  ‘No, that’s going to have to wait. I’ve got something else to show you.’

  ***

  EVAN WALKED THE LAST couple of blocks to the diner carrying his suitcase with him. Jackson was waiting. He looked a lot less manic than when they’d last met. He sucked air between his teeth like a mechanic delivering bad news about a faulty transmission.

  ‘That looks nasty.’ He peered at Evan’s neck. ‘You should rub some ointment in it.’

  Evan was tempted to knock his coffee into his lap.

  ‘I’ll do that. Thanks for the advice.’

  Jackson nodded at the suitcase.

  ‘I see you brought it after all.’

  Evan laughed.

  ‘You’re more than welcome to the contents of this suitcase. We’ve got some dirty underwear, socks, a few shirts . . .’

  The waitress came over to take Evan’s order. Jackson put his hand over his cup. Evan glanced at it.

  ‘What’s the tattoo? Dixie had one just like it.’

  ‘We all did,’ Jackson said, his eyes clouding over.

  ‘All?’

  Jackson stared at the tattoo, flexing his hand, expanding and contracting the design. He looked up at Evan.

  ‘Yeah. We had another brother. Jude. The three J’s. Joseph, Jackson and Jude.’

  Evan hesitated.

  ‘Had? As in he’s dead too?’

  Jackson nodded.

  ‘Drug overdose. They said it was accidental. As if that makes it any easier.’ He was silent again, lost in his thoughts. ‘I suppose it does. To know he was a good guy really who made a silly mistake. Not a life-long scumbag.’ He stared into Evan’s eyes, challenging him to contradict him. ‘The tattoo was his idea.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The hexadecimal of the beast.’

  Evan frowned. It was exactly the response Jackson was looking for.

  ‘You know what hexadecimal is?’

  Evan nodded. Tried to look intelligent.

  ‘Liar. It’s a numerical system.’ He held out his hand, stretched it wide to show off the tattoo. ‘It’s an inverted cross with the letter A on one side and the number twenty-nine on the other.’ He followed it with his finger. ‘Twenty-nine A is hexadecimal for six-six-six. The number of the beast. Jude wouldn’t ever say why he wanted it, what made him think of it. Told us we didn’t want to know.’