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

by James, Harper

‘So what did you do?’ She hadn’t touched her beer. She took hold of the bottle now but didn’t drink any of it.

  ‘I told Evan that was it—’

  ‘Evan?’

  He realized he hadn’t told her about hiring Evan. ‘You remember him. I was at college with him. He came to our wedding. We went to theirs—’

  She nodded slowly as it came back to her. ‘Evan and Sarah, I remember. She died, didn’t she?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Didn’t she just disappear? Left for work one day and never came back. Whatever it was, he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it. I was just about to ask him about her and he gave me the bum’s rush. Nearly threw me down the stairs.’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate, Jesse. Anyway, what’s it got to do with him?’

  ‘He’s a private detective now. I hired him.’

  She screwed up her face and gave him a look that suggested surprise—maybe even astonishment—at the new levels of irrational behaviour that he was admitting to.

  ‘And went down there yourself at the same time?’

  He nodded like it was the obvious thing to do. ‘I was going crazy sitting at home. I didn’t know what had happened to that’—he flicked the back of his hand vaguely at the photo—‘and I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ she said, with that look on her face you get when you know you’re bang on the money, ‘you didn’t tell him what you were doing, either.’

  He grinned sheepishly. Wasn’t that supposed to be one of the great things about long term relationships? You knew exactly how the other person was going to react. She certainly knew him.

  ‘And, after they scared you off, you called him off?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes ...’

  ‘But?’

  He held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘He thinks he’s Sir Lancelot. He’s taken it up as a personal crusade.’

  She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest, looked down her nose at him. ‘I get the feeling I’m not getting the whole story here. I’m not one of your clients, Jesse.’ She gave him a knowing smile, waited. ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil. I know it’s hard for you.’

  He thought that was a bit unfair but, on balance, he didn’t think he was in any position to complain. He was amazed at how well she’d taken it. If he managed to not step on his own dick in the next five minutes he’d be home free.

  ‘There’s this girl, one of the strippers—’

  She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at the photograph lying on the table between them.

  ‘No, no, not one of them, but I think Evan’s got the hots for her.’

  He paused as he realized where this was heading. The own-dick-stepping moment was just over the horizon. There was no way he was going to come out of this looking good. Or even looking like anything other than a complete and utter, selfish bastard.

  ‘And?’

  ‘He thinks she’s in danger.’

  He paused again.

  ‘Good God, Jesse, it’s like pulling teeth. Spit it out.’

  ‘She was suspicious about the scam. She was snooping around and he thinks they might be onto her.’ He shook his head as if to say: What has any of this got to do with me? Why do you need to know?

  Suddenly it all fell into place in Diane’s mind. In his bones, he felt the approaching shitstorm gathering over his head. He watched the strength return to her face like a second layer of skin. It was as if a light had been switched on. Unfortunately, what it illuminated was her spineless toad of a husband cowering in the corner. She leapt out of her chair, strode round to his side of the table and leaned over him.

  ‘And you’—she leaned one hand on the table and prodded him in the middle of his chest with the other—‘you complete idiot, made things ten times worse for her with your interfering.’

  He nodded sadly. He knew there wasn’t any point arguing with her, his dick was well and truly stepped on. He took a swig of beer to give himself something to do other than look her in the eye.

  ‘So he’s still down there while you’re sitting here safe and sound, drinking cold beers.’ She slapped the bottle out of his hand and sent it bouncing across the floor. ‘Well you can forget that. You’re on the next plane back down there.’

  Jesse choked on his mouthful of beer. That was the trouble with Diane—she believed in fairness, a concept Jesse was certain had left the earth about ten minutes after it cooled—and one that would get him sacked on the spot at work. He managed not to spit his beer out onto the table but some of it came out of his nose.

  ‘What?’ he gasped after swallowing the rest of it.

  She pushed her face right in front of his. He didn’t bother puckering his lips for a kiss.

  ‘You heard. I can live with you being a bigger idiot than those inbreds down there, God knows I’ve had a lot of practice’—she picked up the photo and waved it in his face—‘but I’m not having you being a spineless prick as well. And before you say it, no, you can’t choose one or the other.’

  She slapped his head like he was a dog she’d caught eating her supper. ‘You started it so you can damn well get back there and help him finish it.’

  He shrank away from her as her eyes drilled into his, searching in vain for some hidden depth of character, some hint as to why she ever married him in the first place.

  ‘Jesus, Jesse, haven’t you got a conscience at all?’ she said, sighing, the exasperation and disappointment heavy in her voice.

  He opened his mouth but she held up her hand before he had a chance to reply.

  ‘Don’t answer that—you wouldn’t know what a conscience was if it sat down next to you and bought you a drink.’

  He just couldn’t win. It was so unfair.

  ‘What am I supposed to do?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea, and I don’t care.’

  She straightened up and rested her small fists on her hips. Looking up at her, he felt a pang of regret for all the stupid things he’d done, how he’d spoiled everything.

  ‘But the one thing you’re not doing is sitting here drinking beer, waiting for him to sort out the mess you made.’

  Chapter 49

  EVAN’S TAXI DROPPED HIM outside the bar at around nine thirty. He looked up and down the street as he paid the fare, seeing Destiny’s Stingray parked half a block away, its classic curves setting it apart, head and shoulders above the nondescript sedans parked on either side. A bit like its owner, he thought, as he went inside and caught sight of her sitting at the end of the bar with another girl. Trouble was, he couldn’t get Angel’s words out of his head: Let’s hope she’s really on our side.

  He took a seat in the middle, about four seats down from her. Their eyes met briefly in the mirror that ran the full length of the room. Game on. He was relaxed enough but this was the easy part. Destiny nudged her friend and whispered something in her ear. The girl giggled and looked at Evan in the mirror. He smiled at her and she looked away again.

  He bought an over-priced beer with Forrest’s money and downed half of it in one gulp. He was more nervous than he realized. A couple of minutes later Destiny plumped down onto the seat next to him. It sure as hell hadn’t happened like that when he was going to bars in the old days trying to meet girls. He looked in the mirror but her friend had disappeared.

  ‘Nice clothes,’ Destiny said with a huge smile, as she leaned back and admired him.

  ‘Some people think I look like a pimp.’

  ‘Don’t take any notice—they’re just jealous.’

  ‘I’m one of them.’

  She giggled. ‘Don’t you think you should buy me a drink?’

  She ordered something with lots of fruit in it and an umbrella. He decided to risk another small beer. They leaned on the bar elbow to elbow and watched each other in the mirror, the warmth of her skin against his threatening his concentration. It wasn’t just that she looked amazing—the adrenalin, the thrill of the game, made her glow wi
th added vitality, radiate life as it was meant to be lived.

  ‘This is fun,’ she said. ‘How about we just stay here?’

  If he hadn’t known how worried she was about Gina, he might have thought she meant it.

  She swivelled towards him, leaned in closer and rested her hand on his thigh. It wasn’t the electric buzz that had coursed through him when Gina first touched him but it wasn’t nothing at all either. Her breath caressed the side of his face.

  ‘What happened to your ear? You didn’t tell me earlier.’

  ‘Knife fight. There were three of them.’

  ‘That’s funny,’ she said, running her finger along the edge. ‘It looks like somebody took a bite out of it.’

  She leaned in closer still until her hair tickled his face. Her hand slid a bit further up his thigh and squeezed at the same time. He cleared his throat and sipped his beer and looked down at her hand on his leg.

  ‘I’m going to pretend I’m whispering something rude into your ear,’ she whispered into his ear, ‘and you nod and grin like an idiot. That should come easy enough.’

  She glanced sideways at him in the mirror. He almost bit his tongue in two making sure his face remained impassive.

  ‘You’re meant to smile at least,’ she whispered and squeezed his thigh again. ‘You know, open your mouth, curl your lips up at the edges and show your teeth. Just don’t dribble.’

  He mumbled something deliberately incomprehensible.

  She leaned forward and put her ear in front of his mouth. He wanted to nibble it.

  ‘I can’t hear you.’

  ‘I said you’re going to have to move your hand further up.’

  She threw back her head and laughed. She patted his thigh a couple of times—nice try—but the hand didn’t go any further up. At least it didn’t go down either. He let the grin come then.

  She looked at him in the mirror again, easily matching him grin for grin. ‘You got it,’ she said and then narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought I told you not to dribble.’

  He checked in the mirror—he didn’t know what she was talking about. Her eyes met his and she ran the tip of her tongue along her teeth.

  This was something he was going to have to do again, that was for damn sure.

  ‘I’m going to the ladies’ powder room now to let Samantha know we’re on our way. When I come back we’ll get out of here lickety-split.’

  He nodded his agreement. Actions are better than words especially when your throat has inexplicably closed up.

  She slid off her stool and leaned in and put her arm round his shoulders. He was very conscious of her breast pushing into his arm, warm and heavy.

  ‘Think about your tax return while I’m gone.’

  ***

  SAMANTHA CALLED D’AMATO AS soon as she’d finished with the call from Destiny. He’d just mixed himself a drink and was working hard at postponing the moment when he had to head home.

  ‘It’s tonight. She’s just called me. She’s on her way over with him now.’

  D’Amato smiled to himself. This time tomorrow everything should be back to normal. He rubbed his hands together.

  ‘Perfect. Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Buckley, the detective. I spoke to one of the other girls who was in the bar with her. She described him.’

  ‘Good. I’m looking forward to meeting him, the interfering son of a bitch.’

  ‘Me too, Tony, me too.’

  A shiver ran through him. Her voice gave him the creeps. He didn’t know if he could let her loose on the poor guy. He was only doing his job, after all. Even if his job was trying to stop him from making an honest living.

  ‘Destiny knows what she’s got to do?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh yes. At least, she thinks she does.’

  ‘Good. I’ll have the guys waiting at the bottom of the back stairs in the van.’

  He nodded to himself. It seemed straightforward enough.

  ‘What about Gina?’ Samantha said.

  ‘She seems such a sweet kid. So young and pretty and fresh and ... sweet. So what if she’s been a bit silly.’

  She knew he was saying it just to annoy her. He knew how much she hated the little cow. Hated her for all those things he’d just listed. Hated her even before she started snooping around and all this kicked off.

  ‘Quit playing games Tony. We haven’t got all night. What are you going to do about her?’

  He leaned back in his chair and thought about the fun he’d had earlier. At first, he hadn’t planned to hurt her badly, just scare her off, but then she called him a guinea cocksucker—and that had changed everything. She had no idea how close he’d been to turning on the blowtorch. He’d done it before and it wasn’t pretty. But he hadn’t wanted to rush things, there would be plenty of time later.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got something special in mind for her. Something she and Buckley won’t ever forget.’

  Chapter 50

  JESSE CALLED EVAN’S CELL phone as soon as he got into Louisville airport but it went straight to voicemail. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He thought the whole thing was a waste of time anyway but Diane had been adamant. He walked outside to wait for a taxi. Naturally there wasn’t one in sight. He started pacing up and down. The only other person to call was Forrest. He’d rather not have called him but he couldn’t think of anyone else.

  ‘Jesse, we all thought you’d gone back home,’ Forrest said.

  He didn’t actually say with your tail between your legs but his tone of voice implied it. Jesse pictured his smug face, the mocking smile.

  ‘Well I’m back now.’

  He would have liked a little more enthusiasm given that he was putting himself at great personal risk for them all.

  ‘I don’t know that there’s a lot you can do now.’

  Tell that to Diane, Jesse thought bitterly. He didn’t like the emphasis Forrest had put on the now either.

  ‘It’s all happening as we speak.’

  Jesse stopped pacing and looked at his watch. A wave of panic swept through him. What the hell had Evan been up to?

  ‘What is? At this time of night?’

  There was a long pause. Jesse heard a car drive past in the background, but it didn’t sound as if Forrest was driving.

  ‘Hello?’

  Forrest cleared his throat. ‘I thought you knew all about it.’

  Jesse let out a strangled cry. Always the last one to know.

  ‘They’ve set up a sting,’ Forrest said and told him all about it. ‘As I said, there’s not a lot you can do at this late stage.’

  Jesse took a deep breath and counted to three. He wasn’t going to let the implied criticism get to him.

  ‘I thought you didn’t want to get involved.’

  ‘Maybe I changed my mind,’ Forrest said, his tone of voice suggesting it wasn’t any of Jesse’s business. ‘Anyway, I’m not really involved—just bankrolling it. And I’m hoping to get it all back apart from the price of a few drinks.’

  Jesse heard another car go past on Forrest’s end.

  ‘It sounds like you’re out and about somewhere.’

  There was another pause before Forrest said, ‘I wasn’t aware I had to run my movements past you first.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  The last thing he wanted to do was annoy Forrest.

  ‘It’s just I can hear traffic and I thought maybe you were in the middle of it all.’

  ‘No, I told you, I’m just bankrolling it. I’ve got to go now.’

  The phone went dead.

  Well, that’s nice.

  He’d come all the way back down here and now they didn’t even want his help. It was his future on the line for Christ’s sake, not theirs. And then to cap it he’d had to endure that stuck up prick’s attitude on the phone. If he hadn’t been a client he’d have told him to stick his attitude where the sun don’t shine. He tried to relax his bunched shoulders, unclench the balled fists hanging at his sides. He was sick of all this. H
e started pacing again, then swung a kick at a trash can and sent it flying out into the path of an oncoming taxi. The driver hit the brakes and the car nose-dived, then swerved around it and accelerated away again. Jesse ran out into the road and waved his arms after it but it wasn’t stopping.

  Another one came along five minutes later and he told the driver to take him to Chi Chi’s. He caught the driver looking at him in the rear-view mirror, like he wanted to get a better look at the sort of guy who goes straight to a strip club without even checking into his hotel first.

  ‘What?’ Jesse said, his tone aggressive. He’d have happily punched the guy. ‘Don’t you know where it is?’

  The driver nodded and pulled away.

  Jesse stared out the window as they drove, his frustration and anger building inside him. He was angry at Diane, angry at Forrest, just plain angry. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. And underneath, on a different level, there was fear too. He knew only too well what to expect if they caught him again.

  ‘Drop me around the back,’ he said, when they got within a couple of blocks. He couldn’t have the taxi drop him off right outside the front door. Besides, after what happened last time, no one would expect him to go back there again in a million years. Ordinarily he’d have agreed with them.

  He walked the last block to the parking lot at the back of the club. He kept his head down and facing towards the backs of the buildings so that people driving past wouldn’t be able to see his face. He looked like a bum searching for anything he could salvage. A couple of vehicles went slowly past as if they were looking for somewhere to park and he made sure he kept his face turned away.

  The anger and frustration had been eclipsed by the fear. Every step closer made his legs feel weaker and he was getting a headache. A sudden noise at the back of one of the buildings made him stop mid-step and hold his breath. A soft, crunching sound. It sounded like cautious footsteps. He peered into the dark shadows, but couldn’t see anything. There was a loud, piercing howl and he jumped backwards, caught his foot on the curb and landed on his butt in the gutter. A scrawny black cat shot out in front of him, jumped over his legs and ran off down the street.