The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets)

by James, Harper

  ‘Because exercise is good for you?’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘No. Because she didn’t like the look of you. She didn’t want Daniel on your bus.’

  Evan had no idea what made him say it; Linda hadn’t said any such thing. He wanted to try to rattle Hendricks to see what happened.

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  There was no dismissive whatever this time. All trace of smugness had been scrubbed from his face.

  ‘You’re making that up.’

  ‘I would say, ask her yourself, apart from the fact that she wouldn’t talk to you if her life depended on it.’

  Evan would have liked to carry on antagonizing Hendricks all night but he had to get away to meet Faulkner.

  ‘You don’t work there any more, do you?’ he said.

  Hendricks relaxed slightly at the change of topic.

  ‘No, I retired just after the kid went missing. It was a stressful time all round. Lots of bad feeling. I had this place and didn’t really need the job so I quit.’

  ‘I thought you just said you needed a job.’

  There was a flash of anger in Hendricks’ eyes. He was annoyed that he’d slipped up, but it didn’t last long.

  ‘What I meant was I wanted a job to give me something worthwhile to do. Keep me out of trouble.’

  He smirked at his own poor joke. He didn’t say how it was that he came to own such a large property or that he didn’t need to work. He could only have been in his late forties at the time it happened. Probably thought it wasn’t any of Evan’s business.

  ‘I can see you’re doing okay,’ Evan said, looking around. ‘It’s a nice place you’ve got here.’

  ‘Sure is. Come on, I’ll give you a look around. You can check the barns for bodies if you like,’ he sniggered.

  Evan couldn’t decide if he was jumping at the opportunity to change the subject completely, or he was simply a proud home owner. Evan had to admit he was just a bit jumpy as Hendricks showed him around. It was stupid but he had visions of Hendricks hitting him over the head with an axe handle and locking him in one of the barns. He didn’t really relax until he was back in his car and driving away.

  Once again, he had the feeling that the more he talked to people, the more complicated it all became. All he had learned from his visit was that Hendricks owned a very nice house and he blamed Clements. Everybody was pointing the finger at everybody else. Hendricks might have been blaming Clements because the alternative—an innocent Clements—made him look stupid for sending the police barking up the wrong tree. Or he might have been using Clements to take the heat off himself.

  He also had the feeling that there had been someone else with Hendricks just before he arrived. He was pretty sure the glass he’d drunk from had already been used. Unless Hendricks had some OCD issues that made him use a fresh glass every time he refreshed his drink, he’d had a visitor who hadn’t wanted to be seen there.

  Chapter 16

  EVAN GOT TO FAULKNER’S trailer just before seven. Faulkner wasn’t ready so he had to wait around while he pulled on a pair of expensive-looking cowboy boots.

  ‘I take it we’re going to some shitkicker bar after all,’ Evan said.

  ‘Shitkicker my ass. These are alligator Luccheses, number five toe with a walking heel. Best boots you can buy.’

  ‘According to Roy Rogers.’

  ‘Why don’t you do something useful and put that in the trash,’ Faulkner said, tossing an empty beer bottle to him.

  Evan took it through to the kitchen and dropped it in the trash can. One wall of the kitchen was covered with more photographs, most of them of Faulkner’s wife. A lot of them were duplicates of the ones in the living room—the two of them together on vacation and the ones of her with her parents.

  ‘That’s her with her folks,’ Faulkner said joining him. ‘I thought it seemed appropriate putting those up in here, a woman’s place being in the kitchen and all.’

  He seemed to have completely forgotten that he’d told Evan the exact same thing the previous day.

  ***

  THEY WENT TO A noisy cocktail bar called Minge or Minx or something like that. It wasn’t Evan’s kind of place and he was surprised Faulkner chose it. They sat up at the bar and he ordered an over-priced beer and Faulkner started with a Margarita. The place was heaving and the music was way too loud, but Faulkner seemed to be enjoying it. Further down the bar a young woman in a pretty, pale pink dress was having a very public argument with her boyfriend. The guy said something and laughed. The girl stood up and slapped his face hard before storming out. Evan heard the slap above the music. It made his eyes water just listening to it.

  ‘Ouch,’ Faulkner said. ‘I felt that.’

  ‘I went out to see Carl Hendricks today,’ Evan said. ‘You called him and told him I was coming,’

  Faulkner stopped rubbernecking and turned to face him.

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘No. I’d just like to know why you did it. You didn’t call Ray Clements.’

  ‘True, but I knew the minute you’d finished with Linda Clayton, she’d give him a call. I thought it was only fair to give Jason the same advance warning.’

  ‘Who?’ Evan said leaning towards him and straining to hear.

  ‘Carl Hendricks. Isn’t that who we’re talking about?’

  ‘You said Jason.’

  ‘No, I said Carl. You must have misheard. The music’s way too loud in here. I don’t know why you chose it.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Despite the noise, he was positive he hadn’t misheard. ‘You called him up so he could get his story ready.’

  He caught Faulkner staring steadily at him in the mirror behind the counter. The dim—sorry, mood—lighting made it difficult to read his eyes. Was that all part of the plan? Picking this place so that Evan couldn’t see or hear him properly.

  ‘He doesn’t need to. His story hasn’t changed in ten years as you probably found out.’

  Faulkner finished his drink and ordered another. Evan hoped he got something useful out of him because it was going to cost him an arm and a leg.

  ‘Let me take a stab at what you found out from Clements and Hendricks,’ Faulkner said. ‘Clements hates Hendricks and Hendricks hates him back. How’d I do?’

  ‘You could have told me that earlier and saved me two journeys.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have believed me. You’re dead set on re-inventing the wheel. Who am I to stand in your way?’

  ‘Why do they hate each other?’

  ‘The original reason? Who knows, but I don’t think it’s got anything to do with the case. Just one of those things.’

  ‘Hendricks said the school wanted to get rid of Clements before all this happened. That he was a pedophile, sorry, a pederast.’

  ‘That’s just Hendricks trying to cause trouble. Nothing new there. Besides, how would the school bus driver know what the school was planning anyhow?’

  ‘True, but why would he want to cause trouble for Clements. He already helped lose him his job.’

  ‘Because Clements helped him lose his.’

  ‘He said he quit.’

  ‘He would, wouldn’t he? Clements didn’t take all this lying down. He kicked up a real shitstorm and started spreading rumors about Hendricks to discredit his story. It all got very acrimonious. The school got sick of it all and kicked them both out.’

  ‘Why didn’t you investigate Hendricks?’

  ‘We talked to him along with everyone else.’

  ‘But you didn’t give him the treatment Clements got.’

  ‘There was no reason to. He didn’t give the kid rides home in his car and keep it secret. Besides, Clements was badmouthing him, but all he was really saying was he had his head up his ass. Nobody was accusing him of anything, apart from being a totally useless piece of shit.’

  ‘Still—’

  Faulkner swivelled on his stool to face Evan and studied him with hard, gray-blue eyes. With his
steel gray hair and well-preserved physique, Evan reckoned he did pretty well with the women in here. He was a bit too old for the cougars but he probably did okay.

  ‘How old are you son?’

  ‘Thirty-two. Why?’

  ‘Because when all this happened, I already had more years on the force than you’ve graced this planet with your existence. And my gut told me he wasn’t a threat.’

  ‘Your gut could’ve been wrong.’

  Faulkner nodded in agreement.

  ‘Maybe it could, at that. And when you’re old enough to wear long pants, maybe we’ll have that discussion. Luckily you’re old enough to buy a drink.’

  He pushed his empty glass towards Evan.

  Evan wasn’t happy with Faulkner’s answer but he was going to have to leave it for the time being. If he pushed Faulkner too hard, especially after a few drinks, he’d either get angry or clam up.

  After he’d ordered the next round, he decided to change the subject to a less confrontational topic before bringing up Schneider.

  ‘How come Hendricks can afford such a big place?’

  Faulkner stiffened almost imperceptibly but Evan caught it.

  What the hell was that about?

  ‘No idea. Maybe he won the lottery.’

  ‘Has he always lived there?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I think he moved into town a couple of years before all this happened.’

  Evan wanted to push it further but he was getting the feeling all Faulkner’s answers were going to be negative. He suddenly remembered what Clements had said about Faulkner hiding something. Could this be what he meant?

  ‘There’s something else I wanted to ask about.’

  Faulkner opened his eyes wide in mock amazement. ‘No kidding?’

  ‘Do you remember anything about a woman called Barbara Schneider? She went missing around the same time?’

  ‘Not particularly. Should I?’

  ‘There were rumors going around that Robbie Clayton ran off with another woman. Some of them even say that they killed the boy because he found them out.’

  Faulkner was paying more attention now. Evan carried on.

  ‘You thought Clayton took off, this woman disappeared at the same time. According to her husband she was playing around with other men. It all fits.’

  ‘Most things do if you force them hard enough. You talked to the husband?’

  ‘Yeah. He says he talked to someone at the time called Fukner. Was there anyone by that name in the department?’

  ‘Don’t be a smart ass. I don’t remember him.’

  Evan laughed. ‘You wouldn’t forget him. He’s nutty as a fruit cake.’ He made a circling motion with his finger at the side of his head. ‘There’s a good chance he made it all up.’

  ‘Even so, I can’t believe we didn’t look into it.’

  ‘Apparently the rumors didn’t start until later so it wouldn’t have been so obvious.’

  ‘Rumors or not, we should have put it together.’

  ‘I think Kate Guillory might be looking into it now.’

  ‘Guillory’s okay.’

  Evan thought he was going to say more but he’d drifted off into the past. He seemed genuinely shocked that he might have missed something important.

  ‘You know, I kind of lost focus at the end,’ he said suddenly.

  He looked down and twisted his wedding ring. Evan realized he’d not noticed that he still wore it. Maybe he didn’t come here to pick up women after all.

  ‘The wife was so ill. She wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t sleeping, and it was affecting me at work. It was one of the reasons I retired. I could have carried on if I’d wanted to. You might not believe it, but they didn’t want me to go.’

  He gave Evan a wry smile.

  Evan didn’t say anything. It was quite an admission and he didn’t really know what to say. Suddenly Faulkner didn’t seem quite the hardass that Linda Clayton and Ray Clements made him out to be. In fact, it looked like he was about to get all maudlin.

  ‘Don’t worry about giving me a ride home,’ Faulkner said. ‘I’m going to have a few more then I’ll get a taxi home. You run along now.’

  He patted Evan patronizingly on the arm. Despite that, for the first time that evening Evan was glad the place was so noisy and busy. If they’d been in a nice, comfortable bar with some good music instead of the shit they were playing here, he’d have been tempted to leave the car and get drunk with Faulkner. He thought that would have been a very bad idea indeed. But he was wrong. He’d have been much better off staying.

  Chapter 17

  EVAN DIDN’T SEE THE guy standing at the end of the bar as he walked out, and he didn’t see him hastily down his drink and follow him outside. The parking lot was dark, a couple of the lights out, and pleasantly quiet after the noise inside, with a gentle breeze to blow away the cocktail of cheap perfume and pheromones that clung to his hair and clothes. He was almost at his car when he heard footsteps coming up fast behind him. He turned, but too late to do anything to stop the baseball bat that was jabbed hard into his gut. He grunted loudly as the wind went out of him and he doubled over, gasping for air.

  The guy dropped the bat and placed his palms lightly, almost gently, on Evan’s head to steady it, then brought his knee up sharply into Evan’s face. A blinding flash of pain erupted behind his eyes as his nose broke. The guy pushed him onto his face on the ground and dropped heavily on one knee onto his back. The little air left in his lungs was squeezed violently out of him, like a giant tube of toothpaste. The guy picked the bat up again, hooked it under Evan’s chin and pulled back hard, crushing his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe, no air going in or out. He tried to struggle but the guy was too heavy, his knee pinning him to the ground. It took everything he had just trying to get air into his screaming lungs.

  His attacker pulled harder on the bat, pulling Evan’s head even further back. He leant down and put his mouth right above Evan’s ear. Evan felt his hot breath on his cheek, smelled his aftershave. Then, without warning, he bit down onto Evan’s ear and tore a vicious chunk out of it. Evan screamed and writhed on the ground as the guy spat a bloody piece of his ear onto the asphalt.

  ‘That’s what my ear feels like, the amount of grief I’m getting because of you,’ the guy snarled. ‘I almost wish someone would bite mine off.’

  He jerked the bat again. Evan was close to passing out. Blood streamed down the side of his face, down his neck and soaked into his shirt, dripped onto the ground. His lungs were on fire. The relentless pressure on his windpipe was steadily choking the life out of him.

  ‘You’ve got something I want.’

  The pressure on Evan’s neck suddenly eased. His body sucked in oxygen with a wet, whistling through his mouth and smashed nose, a spontaneous atavistic reaction. The guy dropped the bat, fished in his pocket and brought out some heavy-duty cable ties. He pulled Evan’s arms roughly behind him and knelt on them until Evan felt his shoulders slip in their sockets. He looped a tie around Evan’s wrists and pulled it tight. He looped two more over the first one and yanked them until the hard plastic cut into his flesh. Then he stood up, rolled Evan onto his side with his foot and kicked him hard in the balls.

  There was a searing stab of pain, his stomach muscles contracted violently and he jack-knifed on the ground. He’d pass out if the guy kicked him again. His insides felt like they were being twisted and crushed, caught in an industrial compactor. He wanted to vomit and soil himself at the same time.

  ‘You ought to learn how to look after yourself,’ the guy said, laughing and picking the bat up again. ‘Get yourself in better shape.’

  Evan forced his body to straighten, rolled onto his back. He heaved huge mouthfuls of beautiful air deep into his body and looked up into Hugh McIntyre’s gloating face. McIntyre was breathing hard from his exertions. The last time Evan had seen him looking like that he was disappearing into the distance in his rear-view mirror.

  ‘You blindsided me.’

/>   McIntyre let out a sardonic laugh. ‘Really? It wouldn’t have made any difference, you pussy.’ He prodded Evan with his boot. ‘Get up shithead, we’re going for a ride.’

  Evan didn’t think he’d ever stand up straight again. He rolled onto his front and levered himself onto his knees. The effort made everything hurt. He couldn’t concentrate on anything apart from the screaming ache spreading out from his groin. He let his head drop and tried to pull himself together. Blood dripped from his ear onto the ground.

  ‘Hey, lazybones’ McIntyre called in a sing-song voice, and swung the bat languidly at his head.

  Evan looked up, raised his shoulder and twisted away quickly to protect himself. It caught him a glancing blow on the back of the head, knocked him onto his face.

  He struggled to get up but McIntyre pushed him over again with his foot.

  ‘I said, get up. Didn’t you hear me? Something wrong with your ears?’

  He laughed, enjoying himself.

  ‘Hey, what the hell’s going on over there?’

  Faulkner’s shout cut through the quiet of the parking lot. McIntyre’s head shot up, the smile slipping off his face like birdshit off a windshield. Faulkner strode out across the parking lot towards them. McIntyre aimed another vicious kick. Evan twisted into it and took it on the outside of his thigh instead of his balls.

  ‘This isn’t over, Buckley,’ McIntyre spat.

  He turned and ran off across the parking lot, disappearing into the darkness and bushes on the far side.

  ***

  EVAN LAY IN AN ocean of pain as his ear, nose, stomach and balls all competed for his attention, while Faulkner jogged across to him. Faulkner squatted down and got his pocket knife out and sliced through the cable ties. Evan sat up gingerly and crossed his arms, massaging some life into them.

  ‘What was that all about?’

  Faulkner said and rested a hand on Evan’s shoulder.

  ‘That was the guy who’s screwing my late client’s wife.’

  He was seized by a fit of coughing, the convulsions amplifying the pain that had claimed every corner of his body.