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The Road To Deliverance

Page 6

by James, Harper


  ‘I came across Hendricks through another guy, Jack Adamson.’

  Dalton listened without pulling out a notebook. Evan’s blood started to flow again, the hard ridge of muscle high in his back relaxing. If it came to it, he’d claim Dalton got it the wrong way around. Silly old fart.

  ‘Why would this Hendricks tell you all this stuff, implicating himself?’

  ‘Because he hates me. He’s in prison, never coming out. I put him there.’

  Dalton nodded to himself, now it all makes sense.

  ‘He won’t tell you how it panned out so he can watch you twisting in the wind.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve met him.’

  Dalton’s expression said, not him, but a lot like him.

  ‘And that’s why you were interro . . . asking Abe about it. To see if there were any details that weren’t made public. He told you what happened?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘And that doesn’t bother you?’

  ‘What am I going to do? Give up and go home?’

  ‘You know, I think that’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard come out of your mouth. Somehow I don’t think it’s gonna happen.’

  Evan shrugged, you got me. Dalton considered him for a long time from under the brim of his hat. Evan couldn’t see his eyes. Which was the whole point, of course. He had the feeling he was being judged, that this man held it in his power to put an end to his search—one way or the other. Then Dalton asked a question he sure as hell wasn’t expecting.

  ‘Why do you want to find her?’

  Evan couldn’t immediately answer. It seemed such a stupid question.

  Or was it?

  Maybe it was because Dalton was retired, feared old age creeping or racing up on him, but he certainly didn’t have much patience.

  ‘And don’t give me some non-answer, like because she’s my wife. That doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. After six years apart, you’ll be a couple of married strangers. Except you’ll have six years’ worth of resentment and pain and God knows what else standing between you.’

  He gave Evan a minute then, an acknowledgement of how he’d blindsided him with the question.

  ‘I need to know what happened.’

  ‘So it’s all about you. So you can rest easy.’

  Evan had no idea why Dalton was being so argumentative, so provocative. All he knew was, playing his little game was the only way he was going to get anywhere.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I don’t know what you people get up to down here in East Bumfuck, but what if there’s a barn just over that rise’—he got up on his toes like Dalton had to look back towards the sheriff’s office—‘where some cracker has been holding her captive for the past six years, inviting a few close cracker friends over for some fun with her once a week.’

  Dalton laughed at that.

  ‘So, yeah,’ Evan continued, ‘maybe it is about me after all. I don’t want her escaping or being set free once they’ve gotten bored with her, and she comes back and says, thanks a lot, Buckley—for nothing. She’d make my life hell. I can’t risk that.’

  On the outside Dalton was still smiling. Evan knew he was still being judged.

  ‘At least you’re honest. You didn’t come out with some horseshit like, because I still love her desperately. I’d have put my boot up your ass to see you on your way if you had. I still need you to tell me why you think it was her before I help you stir up a hornets’ nest.’

  Evan pulled his Zippo lighter from his pocket, tossed to it Dalton.

  ‘Because of this.’

  Dalton caught it, turned it over in his hand. Tried to light it, which it wouldn’t. Then he read the verse.

  We the unwilling

  Led by the unqualified

  To kill the unfortunate

  Die for the ungrateful

  ‘Jesus. You can’t imagine what it must have been like. I was lucky. I missed all that shit. My older brother wasn’t so lucky. He never came back.’

  He was staring at the lighter as he spoke, head bowed. As if he was talking to himself. Then he looked up at Evan, waiting for an explanation.

  ‘I think that belonged to my wife.’

  ‘You think again. You don’t seem to know much.’

  Evan shrugged, tell me about it.

  ‘I got it from the guy I told you about—’

  ‘Carl Hendricks.’

  Evan groaned inwardly. Seemed Dalton didn’t need a notebook. He hoped it didn’t come to it because trying to say Dalton got the names mixed up wasn’t going to cut the mustard. He carried on without acknowledging Dalton’s remark one way or the other.

  ‘He told me he took it off a woman, right here where we’re standing. I know there are lots of ifs and maybes, but it’s the best I’ve got.’

  ‘You show him a picture of your wife?’

  Evan shook his head, not happy to be drawn further into the story.

  ‘Nope. It wouldn’t do any good. I’ve got to do something for him before he says anything else.’

  Dalton cleared his throat and spat again. Whether he had a problem with excess phlegm or because of what Evan was saying, Evan didn’t know.

  ‘Nice guy. So that’s why you’re down here. Seeing if you can piece it together yourself without having to do whatever he wants first.’

  Dalton read the verse on the lighter again, eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going through his mind, memories of a brother sent to Vietnam who never came home again.

  Evan understood in that moment that he was closer to learning the truth than he’d ever been, ever would be again. So he was comfortable saying what he said next. And meaning it.

  ‘You can keep it if you like.’

  Dalton tried to light it again a couple times.

  ‘It doesn’t work. And I’m trying to give up. Again. Thanks anyway.’

  He threw it back to Evan. The two of them stood a while without saying anything.

  ‘You want to hear the rest of it?’ Dalton said finally. He held up a finger before Evan had a chance to reply. ‘Don’t get too excited. You’re not going to get any answers. Just a bunch more questions.’

  Chapter 10

  EVAN DROVE THEM the couple of miles into downtown Laredo, passing the sheriff’s office on the way. Dalton pointed it out.

  ‘Like I said, stupid place for a drug deal, a quarter mile from the sheriff’s office. If that’s what it was. And that building there is the Medical Examiner’s office.’

  Evan didn’t pay a lot of attention to the building. He was more interested in what Dalton said immediately before that. If that’s what it was. It was the second time he’d said it. Did Dalton know what really happened? And if so, was he about to find out?

  Dalton smoked another cigarette, arm out the window, a look of bovine contentment on his face, as he directed Evan to a greasy spoon downtown where he was well known and well liked. They got settled in at a window seat. While they waited for their coffee to arrive, Evan looked around the room crowded with elderly people going at their food and drink as if they hoped to uncover the secret of eternal youth and happiness at the bottom of it all. Then Dalton started talking.

  ‘Abe gave you all the details of what happened at the scene. I don’t need to go over all that again. The body was shipped to the ME’s office that I pointed out. Would’ve been quicker if I’d carried it there on my shoulder instead of waiting around in the pouring rain. After we’d secured the scene, which was a mess, I went back to my office next door to run the name through the system.’

  Evan shifted in his seat as Dalton spoke, a feeling like oiled eels writhing in the chill void of his stomach. He was immediately back in the room with the man who called himself Smith in the aftermath of his own search for the name Cole Nix. From the look on Dalton’s face, the absence of any of the man’s previous good humor, he reckoned he was about to hear a similar story.

  ‘That’s when th
ings started to get strange.’ Dalton blew on his coffee and took a sip, sucked milk froth from his mustache. ‘It was as if the guy didn’t exist. There was nothing. It was odd but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It was late by then and I was tired. So I headed home, thinking I’d make a proper start first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Except you didn’t,’ Evan suggested.

  ‘Nope. Didn’t get the chance. Got a call from the sheriff himself as I was leaving home at seven the next morning. I knew something was up right away. A call from the sheriff at seven in the morning? He said there’d be a couple of guys coming to see me. Said I was to give ‘em whatever they wanted, no questions asked. When I got to the office, there were these guys waiting for me—’

  ‘Gray suits and ties?’

  ‘Faces too. Sounds like you’ve met them. Anyway, they said they’d come to pick up the body. I was thinking even though the sheriff said give ‘em whatever they wanted, he couldn’t have meant the damn body. So I called him up—’

  ‘How did that go?’

  Evan took a mouthful of coffee to hide the smile on his lips. But Dalton was smiling too.

  ‘As you’d expect. Sheriff had gone back to bed. Asked me what part of whatever they wanted I didn’t understand. So I released the body to them. What little personal effects there were, too. The ME wasn’t happy at all when he got in and found I’d shipped the body out from under his nose.’

  ‘And that was the end of that,’ Evan said.

  ‘Don’t be an ass.’

  Evan looked around quickly to see if Guillory had snuck in.

  ‘What?’ Dalton said, misinterpreting Evan’s behavior. ‘My story got you spooked?’

  ‘No. You sounded like someone I know, that’s all.’

  ‘Anyway, that wasn’t the end of it. I had a name that didn’t exist and a body that might as well never have existed.’

  ‘And you don’t like people telling you what to do.’

  Dalton smacked the table with the flat of his palm.

  ‘Damn right, I don’t. I tried running the name through the system again.’

  ‘Still no hits.’

  ‘Not the sort you mean, no. I got a hit around the back of the head though. Figuratively speaking. The sheriff called me for the second time that day and let me tell you, he was pissed. Told me to drop it immediately, that he didn’t want to have to tell me again.’

  ‘So that was the end of it?’

  Dalton looked as if he might poke him in the eye, made him think the Daltons were related to the Guillorys.

  ‘I got another visit from our two friends. They wanted to know if there was anything I’d held back, any personal effects. Specifically, something Nix had been wearing around his neck. A dog tag, something like that. Apparently, there was a faint white line in the tan on his neck, made them think he’d been wearing a chain. They weren’t happy one little bit when I said no sir, there wasn’t anything like that.’

  ‘Was there anything?’

  Dalton grinned at him, the hard eyes crinkling.

  ‘I wish there had been. But there wasn’t. They even took that button you think might have come from your wife’s blouse.’

  Evan slumped, suddenly deflated, a hollowness in the pit of his stomach. He’d been convinced Dalton was about to pull something out of his pocket, slap it down on the table with a satisfied smile on his lips. Something that would make it all come together.

  Dalton hadn’t finished.

  ‘I’d learned my lesson. I wasn’t about to try another search on the system. But there was no way I was going to let it go. I asked around. I’d worked in law enforcement my whole life, I knew a lot of people. On both sides of the fence.’

  ‘You still came up with nothing.’

  Dalton finished his coffee, wiped his mustache with the back of his finger.

  ‘Not quite.’ He held up the mustache-wiping finger when he saw the reaction in Evan’s face. ‘Don’t go getting excited. It’s not what you think. I got a letter. Not a signed confession from the perp or anything like that. Or even a crank letter.’

  Evan felt in his bones they’d finally got to the crux of the matter. He had a good idea what was coming too.

  ‘Remember, I was just coming up to retirement.’ All the humor was gone from his face now, never to return. ‘Only had another year or so to go. I wasn’t too surprised when I got this letter from the pensions office. But I was sure as hell surprised when I read it. There’d been an administrative error concerning my pension. They’d recalculated how much I’d be getting. A little under half of what I’d been expecting. Then that same day I ran into the sheriff. I told him what had happened. He said he’d look into it. Then, as he’s walking away, he turned back, said how pleased he was that I’d seen sense and dropped the Cole Nix investigation.’

  Evan met his gaze, didn’t say anything. Dalton took it as a challenge anyway.

  ‘What would you have done?’

  It wasn’t the time to say, they did the same sort of thing to me and here I still am.

  ‘Dropped it, I suppose.’

  ‘You suppose right.’

  ‘You get another letter a couple weeks later?’

  ‘Yep. There’d been a computer error. New systems, teething problems, blah, blah, blah. Please ignore the last letter. Your pension entitlement is what you always thought it was. Sorry for the inconvenience and worry caused. Hope it didn’t give you a heart attack.’ He managed to squeeze out a thin smile. ‘It didn’t actually say that last bit.’

  ‘That’s when you warned off your nephew, Abe.’

  ‘Uh-huh. The only difference being he didn’t get his job back. Not that he cares now. Anyway, that’s beside the point. You can appreciate now why everybody gets a little jumpy when somebody appears six years later and starts nosing around.’

  They stared intently at each other, message sent and received. They both knew it didn’t change anything.

  ‘What did they do to you?’ Dalton said.

  Evan told him about the taser, the threats, the credit cards and cash disappearing. Dalton gave an admiring shake of the head.

  ‘And yet, here you still are.’

  ‘Some people say I’ve got the monopoly on stubborn and stupid.’

  Dalton laughed out loud at that.

  ‘Sounds like you know some perceptive people.’

  Without warning Dalton’s mood changed. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, pointed his finger directly at Evan’s face.

  ‘I don’t like the way you threatened Abe last night. Telling him you’d do another search on Cole Nix in order to bring down the shit on his head. Because some of that would land on me too. That kind of thing isn’t gonna get you anywhere. Even if we knew anything in the first place. Which we don’t.’

  It was like being back at school, being chewed out by the principal. The only difference was, in Evan’s considerable first-hand experience, interviews with the school principal didn’t come with a silver lining.

  ‘However,’ Dalton said, his face softening slightly, ‘I haven’t brought you here just to make you listen to me bellyaching and then send you back where you came from. There is someone who might be able to help you.’

  Evan kept his hands flat on the table, to keep himself in his seat if nothing else.

  ‘Same as the other guy who gave you the lighter, he’s gonna want something in return. Because he’s kind of obsessed himself. And he doesn’t care about the risks either. The two of you will get along real fine.’

  Evan nodded mechanically, just get to the point.

  ‘It’s his half-brother. Jay Killinger.’

  Chapter 11

  A FEW MILES OUTSIDE of Laredo, heading north on US-59, Evan turned left onto a dirt road. He drove past a rusting six-bar tube gate, then up a gentle rise towards a small wooden house. It was barely more than a shack. In the yard, a shirtless man of about the same age and build as himself was chopping wood. He stopped, leaned on the axe when he heard Evan a
pproach, sweat glistening on his well-muscled body.

  ‘Jay Killinger?’ Evan said as he climbed out of the car.

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘Evan Buckley. Bill Dalton said I’d find you here.’

  Jay’s face changed as soon as he said the name Dalton. The friendly, mildly curious expression was replaced by something more curious but less friendly. Jay ran a hand through his hair, his grip tightening on the axe handle in the other.

  ‘I haven’t heard from Bill for . . . must be five years at least.’

  The implication was clear. They’d only ever had one thing in common—the killing of his brother. And once Dalton had been warned off there was no reason to continue their acquaintance.

  ‘It’s lucky for me you’re still living here then.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere any time soon.’

  Then he hefted the axe, swung it over his head, buried it deep in the chopping block. Wiping the sweat and grime from his hand onto his pants leg, he stuck out his hand.

  ‘Something tells me we’ve got a lot to talk about.’

  Evan took a seat on the small porch while Jay fetched a couple of ice-cold beers from the fridge. He emerged a minute later with two bottles in one hand, a T-shirt in the other. Pulling it on over his head Evan couldn’t help noticing the tattoo on his stomach, right above his low-slung belt. He tried not to stare, to see what it was. Jay caught him looking anyway. He stuffed his T-shirt quickly into his jeans, said nothing.

  They both took a long swallow of beer, neither of them knowing where to start. There was an unspoken no, you first hanging in the air between them. Evan pulled his wallet out. Jay grinned at him and clinked beer bottles.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. They’re on me.’

  Evan laughed dutifully. It was hard to do with his heart in his mouth. He pulled out a photograph, held it out towards Jay. Putting his beer on the ground by his feet, Jay took the photograph.

  ‘Do you know that woman?’

  Jay studied it carefully. Almost as carefully as Evan studied his face. He was a good-looking guy. Evan couldn’t have blamed Sarah if she’d run off with him. Jay picked up his beer again, took another swallow, eyes still on the photo. Then he shook his head slowly, his eyes holding Evan’s now.

 

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