He screamed as sharpened metal speared his flesh.
But it was only—except there was no only about it—the arrow in his leg catching on the ground as he rolled.
A solid thunk filled the eerie silence left after the reverberations of Evan’s shots died away, as the arrow buried itself in a tree, deep in the woods behind the blind.
By the time Evan stopped rolling Floyd had another arrow in his hand. The guy was game, going up against a man with a gun with only a bow and arrow. Maybe he was part native American. Whatever it was, he should’ve turned and run if he had any sense.
Lying full length on his left hip, his right leg held in the air to stop the arrow catching on anything, Evan steadied himself in the grass. He rested his left elbow on the ground, left hand supporting his right wrist and shot Floyd once in the right shoulder and once in the left leg.
He rolled carefully onto his back and stared up at the sky, waited for his heart to get the hell out of his throat, settle back down into his chest. Kyle was younger, quicker to bounce back. Evan turned his head to the side and watched him climb unsteadily to his feet without the use of his hands. Evan pulled himself up using one of the cross-struts and hobbled across to help him. He pulled the noose over his head, then the hood and held him tight into his body a minute before he untied his hands. Apart from the wet patch on his jeans which neither of them mentioned—or even saw—Kyle looked as if he’d just come back from playing in the woods with his friends.
‘Stay here,’ Evan said, his tone of voice producing a disappointed, accepting nod from Kyle.
He hobbled over to where Floyd lay on his stomach, squirming his way through the long grass towards the trees on the far side of the clearing, blood smearing the grass behind him like a giant snail. Evan grabbed him by the left leg—the one he’d shot—and hauled him back again on his belly, ignoring the protests from his own leg.
It was like some big macho competition. Evan’s leg was screaming, begging him to stop. Floyd’s must be doing the same. Neither man let even a squeak slip past their clenched teeth.
He dragged him all the way to the blind and leaned him up against one of the stilts. Kyle had watched too much TV already in his short life. By the time Evan had Floyd propped up against the post, Kyle was standing next to him holding out the rope. There wasn’t any point in reinventing the wheel, so Evan looped the noose over Floyd’s head and tied the end off on one of the cross-struts.
They both stood in front of Floyd and looked down at him.
‘So, Kyle, what did you learn today?’ Evan said and winked at him.
Floyd scowled at them. Kyle grinned.
‘You don’t mess with Uncle Evan.’
‘You got it. You want to fetch his bow?’
Kyle’s face lit up and Evan was reminded of the natural cruelty that lives inside us all until we grow to adulthood and social pressures push it below the surface.
‘Are we gonna shoot him?’
‘Maybe later. Why don’t you take some arrows and get some practice on a tree? I need to talk to Floyd a minute.’
Kyle pulled a handful of arrows out of the quiver still on Floyd’s back.
‘Give me one of those broadheads.’
Kyle handed one over, a look of disappointment on his face that he was going to miss out on some of the fun.
‘Off you go.’
Kyle ran across the clearing and Evan dug in his pocket, pulled out the Zippo lighter. Floyd’s eyes widened a fraction. It was fast, but Evan caught it.
‘You recognize it.’
Floyd gave a one-shouldered shrug, didn’t say anything. Evan rested the tip of the arrow on his shoulder, an inch from where the bullet had entered.
‘You can poke it right in that hole, wiggle it around, twist it all you like,’ Floyd said and gave him a smug smile. ‘You won’t make me say anything I don’t want to say that way. I’ve been tortured by better men than you. You’re a nice guy’—he made the nice sound like something to be ashamed of—‘you haven’t got what it takes. You’ll give in before I do.’
He was right. It took a certain kind of person to get information out of a defenceless man that way. Evan wasn’t that kind of person, never would be. He threw the arrow over his shoulder, a good long way. You couldn’t be too careful with someone like Floyd.
‘How do I get you to tell me, then?’
Floyd smiled again.
‘Let me go.’
‘Not gonna happen.’
‘Good luck with the Zippo.’
Evan took a deep breath, looked around the clearing. Guillory and the other cops would be here any minute. On the far side of the clearing Kyle was struggling with Floyd’s bow, barely able to move the string. It was an awesome weapon, a thing of deadly beauty. He had a flashback to a minute ago, lying in the grass, aiming his gun at Floyd’s shoulder as he drew the bow. Why hadn’t he turned and run? Beautiful and deadly the bow might be, it was no match for a gun. And it wasn’t the same macho pride that stopped them both from giving in to a cry of pain as he dragged him through the grass. Floyd was an experienced soldier, there was no shame in retreating to fight another day.
There was another reason Floyd hadn’t run away. It had to be a very good reason.
‘What happened to your dog?’
All traces of a smile, smug or otherwise, slipped off Floyd’s face, a scowl replacing it.
Evan carried on. ‘I know what happened to it—’
‘Her, not it.’
Evan knew then the answer to his questions was within his reach. He was closer now than he had been for five years. It made him lightheaded, the trees closing in on him. Then a surge of pain from his leg brought his mind back into focus.
‘Sorry, her. I meant, where is she?’
Evan believed Floyd when he said he’d be unable to torture the information out of him. Now, the man looked as if he might cry at any minute. Evan looked across the clearing to where Floyd emerged from the trees. He couldn’t be sure, the sunlight played tricks on his eyes. He thought he made out a brown and black mound on the ground.
‘She’s over there, isn’t she? You didn’t have time to do what you did to the guy who killed her and bury her, did you?’
He’d touched a wound every bit as raw as the ones in Floyd’s shoulder or leg. The difference was, this one would take a lot longer to heal.
Floyd looked at the ground between his legs, didn’t say anything.
‘How long do you think it’ll take the critters to eat their way through a dog her size? A week? A month?’
Floyd’s fists clenched. Evan would’ve liked to know how many men he’d killed with nothing more than those large hands. Floyd looked up into his face, a decision made.
‘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 instructi
ons 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.’
Sins Of The Father Page 32