Hunting Dixie

by James, Harper

  But the boy had seen Carly on the ground. They’d be calling the police on their cell phones already. He couldn’t risk being caught looking as if he’d attacked a woman in an alley when they were already looking for him in connection with the near fatal shooting of an undercover cop. It’d be nightsticks first, questions later, for sure.

  ‘It must have been Chico shot him,’ Carly said from the ground behind him.

  ‘Why’d he let you go, Carly? He had you where he wanted you and he let you go. What did he want you to do? That’s what Dixie wanted to know. That’s why he didn’t want to meet you.’

  She looked down at her lap, playing with the end of the strap he’d broken. Her hair fell forward. He couldn’t see her face, didn’t need to. Whatever came out of her mouth next would be as big a lie as everything that had preceded it.

  He suddenly realized it didn’t make any difference. He couldn’t walk away not knowing, those same nagging head voices changing their tune.

  Maybe she would’ve helped you after all.

  ‘I told him I’d get the money back,’ she said.

  ‘And he’d simply forget about everything else, is that it? They’re all good Catholics down there aren’t they? Maybe he decided to forgive you—if you said you were really sorry, of course. Promise never, ever, ever to do it again.’ He held his arms open wide. ‘Aw, come over here and gimme a hug, silly. Chico loves you really.’

  As the words came out of his mouth, he realized he was missing a trick.

  ‘You said last time you still had the money. That Sarah told Dixie the wrong location then got away from him.’

  She shook her head emphatically.

  ‘No. I said we’ve still got it. You weren’t listening to anything properly after I mentioned Sarah’s name. She’s got the key. I didn’t want to carry it around with me knowing Chico was after me. And I already told you I can’t get hold of her.’

  ‘Then I don’t know what you want me for. I haven’t been able to get hold of her for over five years.’

  She took a deep, give-me-strength breath, blew it out in a great rush of air at his stupidity.

  ‘I don’t know if she’s actually got it on her. In her purse. It’s more likely to be hidden somewhere in the house. And I need you to go look for it.’

  He would have laughed if he could. There she was, sitting on her butt in some grubby alley, soaked through to the skin with dirty water, looking up at him and giving him her orders. All because he knew he’d give himself a hard time for the rest of his life if he did what everyone was telling him to do, told her to shove it where the sun don’t shine.

  ‘Why don’t you do it? Or is there something else you’re not telling me? Like maybe Chico’s men are waiting at the house for whoever turns up?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I don’t know but there’s a chance they are. Especially after they shot Dixie.’

  He let that slide. He didn’t need to waste any more breath. Or time. The police might be on their way by now if the kids had called it in.

  ‘What’s it going to be Evan?’ Her voice was almost sing-song now. ‘I haven’t got all day.’

  She was right about that. They didn’t have all day. In the distance he heard the sound of a siren.

  ‘What’s the address?’

  She scribbled it on a scrap of paper, handed it to him. He stared at it dumbly.

  ‘You’re telling me she’s been living here all this time, right under my nose?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. It’s a short-term rental under a different name.’

  A thought suddenly came to him. Maybe there was something in this for him after all. If Sarah had lived in the house for any time at all, who knows what he might find, what might be lying around. It had to be worth a look.

  It couldn’t hurt.

  Chapter 33

  ‘DO YOU KNOW WHERE your gun is?’ Guillory said when Evan finally answered his phone.

  ‘Where it usually is. Locked in the drawer in my office.’

  ‘Do you know if it’s still there?’

  ‘You think somebody stole it and used it to shoot Dixie?’

  ‘It’s the best explanation of how shells with your fingerprints ended up at the scene.’

  ‘They’d have to break into the office.’

  ‘Dixie managed it easily enough.’

  ‘I think we can rule him out. Unless you think it was attempted suicide.’

  ‘You know, I think I’ll tell Ryder that’s your explanation. What are you up to at the moment, anyway? Sounds like you’re driving. Although it’s hard to tell, the way you drive.’

  She ribbed him mercilessly on how he drove the Corvette like a pussy—unlike the way she’d driven it the one time he let her. Despite the light-hearted tone, it wasn’t a good time to tell her he was on his way to look for the key in the house Carly claimed Sarah had been living in. It sounded lame in his head. He didn’t want to think about what it might sound like spoken out loud. Especially to a confirmed cynic like her.

  ‘I’m—’

  A large truck rumbled past on the other side of the street, shifting down a gear as it passed Evan’s car.

  ‘I can’t hear you, but it’s going to have to wait,’ she interrupted, saving him from an uncomfortable lie. ‘You need to go back to your office, see if your gun’s still there.’

  ‘You said—’

  ‘You need to stay away, I know. But we need to find out.’

  ‘Couldn’t—’

  ‘I do it? No way.’

  She laughed At least it sounded like a laugh. Just without the humor.

  ‘How did I know you were going to say that?’

  ‘Because it’s a perfectly normal, reasonable thing to ask? Especially when the person being asked is sitting around kicking their heels.’

  ‘That’s exactly it. You do realize if they find out I was even talking to you, I can kiss goodbye any hope of reinstatement?’

  That wasn’t something he wanted on his conscience. He let it drop.

  ‘Any other news? Has Ryder got me on CCTV pulling the trigger yet?’

  ‘He’s working on it, don’t you worry.’

  ‘Don’t I know it? I’ll let you know about the gun.’

  ***

  ‘THE POLICE HAVE BEEN looking for you,’ Tom Jacobson said when Evan called him on his cell phone. Jacobson ran a dental practice from the office below Evan’s. He also owned the building making him Evan’s landlord. Although there was no hint of an accusation in his voice Evan couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of it all.

  ‘Did they say what they wanted?’

  ‘Just that they were looking for you.’

  ‘They didn’t say why?’

  ‘No. Only that it was urgent. I tried to call you after they’d gone but your phone rang out. As usual.’

  Evan couldn’t remember seeing a missed call from Jacobson. Not that it would have made any difference. If they were looking for him, it was obvious they’d go to the office.

  ‘They wanted to search your office. Don’t worry, I said no. Told him to come back with a warrant.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘The fat one. He annoyed the hell out of me.’

  ‘Donut.’

  ‘No, his name was Ryder . . . sorry, that was a joke, wasn’t it? Anyway, it was his attitude.’

  ‘That’s Ryder for you.’

  Jacobson laughed, a rich, deep sound that tested the limits of the microphone on Evan’s phone.

  ‘You should have seen his face when I said no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person’s face go that color before. I was tempted to give him a shot to sedate him.’

  ‘You’ve got to promise me, Tom,’ Evan said, his voice suddenly low and urgent, ‘if he comes back and collapses, do not under any circumstances try to resuscitate him.’

  ‘Sounds like you hate him as much as he hates you.’

  ‘You got that right. And now he thinks . . .’

  He pretended to cough. Tri
ed to cover up the sentence he suddenly didn’t want to finish. It didn’t wash.

  ‘Now he thinks what?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  An uncomfortable silence stretched out for a long moment.

  ‘Look, Tom, I don’t really want to go into it right now—’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it—’

  ‘Evan. I said it’s okay. It’s none of my business.’

  They both knew that wasn’t true. Evan caused more trouble than the rest of the tenants put together. That situation was about to get worse in the very near future, even if neither of them knew that right then. For the moment, another awkward silence filled the airwaves between them. Then Jacobson laughed again, more of a soft, knowing chuckle this time.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can picture your face. I’ve just told you I don’t need to know, it’s none of my business and now you’re thinking how the hell do I ask him what I called about?’

  There wasn’t a lot to say to that apart from you got me.

  ‘So what do you want?’

  ‘I had an idea the police would come around—’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘—so I wanted to find out if they’re still there.’

  ‘Well, they’re not here now. I haven’t seen anybody hanging around. Ryder certainly isn’t. And there aren’t any cars parked in the lot either.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom, I appreciate it.’

  ‘This isn’t anything to do with that shooting last night, is it?’

  Evan groaned inwardly. Not now. He left it too long before answering.

  ‘That tells me all I need to know.’ Jacobson’s voice had that weary, disappointed tone that made Evan feel like a naughty six-year-old.

  ‘Ryder thinks it is. Hopes it is.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Evan, that can’t be just because he doesn’t like you.’

  ‘No, he thinks he’s got some evidence as well.’

  Jacobson let out a long, aggravated sigh.

  ‘It’s like living in a novel with you around. Is there anything else I can do to help?’

  ‘You put CCTV in the lobby and corridors, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, after that last incident . . .’

  He didn’t have to say any more. At least there was a smile in the voice. They’d be able to laugh about this too when it was all over. Hopefully.

  ‘How far back does it go?’

  ‘It’s only a cheap one. I put it in myself. I think you get about a hundred hours, depending on the resolution you want.’

  ‘That’s four days. Can I take a look at the footage?’

  ‘Whatever you like. Let me know when. And Evan?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Check your phone out. You never know when you might actually need to pick up when I call. Love you as I do, I’m rarely calling to shoot the breeze.’

  Chapter 34

  EVAN DROVE PAST THE office, ignoring the parking lot, past where the cordoned-off crime scene area around Dixie’s van had been. He parked another couple hundred yards farther on, headed back towards the office on foot.

  A strip of yellow crime scene tape was still attached to the tree it had been tied to. Apart from that you’d never know anything had happened. A beat-up old pickup was parked right where Dixie’s vehicle must have been. He laughed out loud when he got closer, saw the bumper sticker. It was a picture of the President with the words:

  Does this ass make my truck look big?

  ‘You like that, huh?’ a voice said from behind the tree.

  Evan leapt about three foot in the air as a guy stepped out from where he’d been hiding. In his sixties, he was lean and wiry, wearing a ragged M-65 field jacket. There was a faint smell of booze and stale piss about him. He showed Evan a mouthful of bad teeth.

  ‘I didn’t see you there,’ Evan said as his heart rate subsided. ‘You gave me a shock. Yeah, great bumper sticker. Who’d vote for that asshole?’

  The guy grinned wider. It didn’t look like he had a tongue. He said something. The impediment was so bad Evan couldn’t be sure, but it sounded a lot like:

  Saw somebody get shot here.

  The words registered in Evan’s face like a cattle prod as soon as his brain stripped out the impediment and assembled them correctly.

  The guy’s mouth was twitching as he waited for Evan to say something.

  ‘You saw who did it?’

  The guy nodded vigorously.

  ‘You think you’d recognize them again?’

  More nodding. Not so vigorous this time. The twitching at the corner of his mouth was getting worse. Maybe he was nervous, feeling under pressure. He mumbled something else.

  ‘What was that?’

  The guy said it again.

  All Evan heard was the irritation in his voice, the words an indistinct jumble of sounds. The only word he made out in there was pussy. The guy went rigid, his teeth clenched, as he tried to compose himself, calm the twitching that had spread to the whole of his cheek.

  ‘No one ever listens to me.’

  But that wasn’t what he’d said before.

  ‘Who doesn’t listen to you? The police?’

  Wrong thing to say.

  The guy froze. Eyes wild, his black, cartoon mouth-hole hanging open. The twitching started up again with a vengeance, all the way up to his eye.

  Evan put his hand on the guy’s arm.

  ‘It’s okay.’

  The guy looked at the hand like he’d got out the water and spotted a leech clamped on a vein. He threw it off, shoved Evan hard in the chest with both palms. Evan stumbled backwards, tripped. By the time his ass hit the sidewalk the guy was in his pickup. Evan scrambled up. Ran to the window.

  ‘Hey!’

  That was as far as he got, before the guy floored it and shot off down the road. Evan couldn’t believe how fast the thing moved. He ran out into the road behind it, pulling his phone out of his pocket. By the time he had the camera open the pickup was too far away for him to get the license plate. He took a couple of quick shots of the back of it disappearing down the road anyway.

  He dusted himself down then carried on towards the office, avoiding the urge to have a quick look around the crime scene himself. He wasn't so arrogant as to think he might spot something the professionals had missed. And he didn't want anybody to think he was the perp returning to the scene.

  The office parking lot was empty at this time of night. It was bordered on both sides by thick shrubs. It was likely whoever shot Dixie had hidden here somewhere, waiting, then followed him down the street to his car.

  Feeling paranoid, he scanned the bushes for a hidden foot or the glint of streetlights on the glass of a wristwatch as he crossed the lot. He felt very exposed, imagined crosshairs on his chest, a finger tightening on a trigger. They say you can always see the muzzle flash first. Just not first enough.

  He quickened his pace. Made it to the doors without being cut down by automatic gunfire. Relaxed. The doors were unlocked which was unusual. His stomach tightened again. He stepped into the safety of the building, locked them behind him. He didn’t want anyone sneaking up on him.

  Chapter 35

  TOM JACOBSON WASN’T SURE what he thought about the way his life had changed since Evan had taken an office in his building. It was more . . . exciting, that was for sure, but he didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

  He’d put the CCTV in as a knee-jerk reaction after some previous trouble with people Evan had annoyed or antagonized. Evan was good at that. He’d installed it himself then forgot all about it. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to review the footage or—and he hadn’t said this to Evan—whether it was recording anything in the first place.

  He hadn’t wanted to admit his ignorance or lack of interest to Evan, which was why he’d brought the instruction manual home with him. He was surprised at the amount of bang you got for your buck with something so technical. One parti
cular feature caught his eye—view live footage on your computer, tablet or smartphone, accessible from anywhere in the world. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, found the right page in the manual and followed the instructions, step by step.

  ‘Ha!’

  He let out a cry like an excited kid at Christmas. There it was on his phone, the office reception in all its grainy glory, even if the angle was a bit off and there was a huge dead zone. Time to take a look at what he called the problem corridor, the one leading to Evan’s office. He might as well have put all the cameras up there for all the excitement he was likely to capture elsewhere.

  He followed the instructions for swapping between cameras. A corridor stretched from the top of the stairs, all the way to Evan’s office. Evan’s door was clearly visible. He ought to give Evan access to this, it’d be more use to him.

  He was about to switch it off when Evan’s door opened. He froze. The dread inched up his throat even before anybody came out. He had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach it wasn’t going to be Evan. Whoever it was, they were standing in the doorway, waiting. Why the hell didn’t they come out and show themselves? Jacobson was so engrossed watching the screen he didn’t hear his wife come in from the kitchen.

  ‘Dinner’s only going to be five minutes.’

  He gave a surprised yelp. Dropped the phone as if she’d snuck up on him and caught him browsing a porn site.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  He waved his hand dismissively. Grabbed the phone off the floor. It had gone back to camera number one, the one in reception, when it hit the floor. He tried to change cameras again. It wouldn’t work.

  Suddenly there was movement on the screen. Somebody had entered the building. He’d been right. It hadn’t been Evan who opened the door to his office—because it was Evan who just walked in the front door.

  His mind went blank.

  Should he call Evan immediately? Or go back to the view of Evan’s office? He didn’t know if he could do both. He couldn’t call Evan on the house phone. He didn’t know the number, it was stored in his cell. Had he really seen the door open? Or had Evan left it open, nipping down to his car and now he’d come back in?