Hunting Dixie

by James, Harper

  He had to see what was going on upstairs. He switched to the upstairs camera. Let out an involuntary shriek. A huge face was staring directly at him in a distorted fish-eye lens manner. He hoped these things weren’t two way. He watched, almost paralyzed, as a large hand rose up towards the camera. The screen went suddenly blank. He frantically tried to get back to the reception camera. His large fingers slid and tapped. Damn thing wouldn’t respond.

  The reception area suddenly popped into view on his screen. Evan was still standing in the same spot. He was leaning forward slightly, head cocked. Listening. Had he heard something?

  Get the hell out of there.

  On screen Evan started towards the stairs.

  Jacobson closed the CCTV app. Pulled up Evan’s number. Dialed. No answer.

  Why didn’t he ever pick up?

  He cut the call. Immediately redialed. That worked sometimes. The phone kept on ringing. Should he get over there himself? No time. What good could he do, anyway?

  Pick up you asshole.

  What if he couldn’t pick up? It was driving him insane. If Evan came out of this alive and not in jail he was going to be out on his ear, no question.

  Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up . . .

  And then, Hallelujah, just as he was about to give up, call the police instead, the ringing stopped as Evan finally picked up.

  ‘Tom?’

  ‘Evan! Get the hell out of there,’ Jacobson screamed into the phone, all his frustration and fear exploding out of him. ‘Now!’

  The phone went dead in his ear.

  Chapter 36

  DIXIE OPENED HIS EYES and blinked at the bright sunlight streaming through the hospital window. He watched the dust motes dancing in the air, then looked down at his body, the bandages, the needles and tubes sticking out of him. He glanced at all the monitors and other technology surrounding him, feeling like he was in the middle of a bad daytime TV drama. One of the machines was making an irritating high-pitched sound. He peered at it. He didn’t watch a lot of TV but wasn’t that green line supposed to be going up and down?

  Whatever.

  On the other side of the room the door handle turned. That would be the nurse, bringing him something to eat. About time too. He could eat a horse. The door opened. But it wasn’t a nurse or a doctor come to see how he was doing. For a split second he thought it was Chico.

  But it wasn’t him either—it was Jude.

  He looked exactly like he had the last time Dixie saw him. He could have been half Mexican with his olive skin and shoulder-length jet-black hair. The unshaven stubble of his beard was dark, his face dangerously thin. He looked like he needed a good meal. But then he always did.

  ‘Hey man, I thought we were going for a beer.’

  He was grinning like an idiot as he crossed the room, sat on the end of the bed. He bounced up and down a couple of times. Like people do when they visit you in the hospital—like they’re testing the bed to see if they want to book themselves in for a stay.

  ‘Or maybe a margarita? I know this place makes the best one you ever tasted.’

  Dixie grinned back. Whatever you wanted, Jude always knew this place.

  Damn, it was good to see him.

  It was as if the last ten years of his life had been ripped away.

  The two of them were back on his big Ducati V-twin with the wind in their hair—helmets are for pussies—hitting the ramp at seventy-five, straight up to ninety-five on the freeway, Jude’s hands clamped to the tail unit, not around his waist like a big girl, passing cars and trucks as if they were going backwards.

  Then red and blue lights flashing in his mirrors a quarter-mile away. Goosing the gas, the big V-twin coming on strong, taking them up to one-twenty with barely a flick of the wrist. A quarter-mile turns into a half-mile before you can blink. Off at the next ramp, not stopping until they hit this place Jude knew. Sitting in the warm sun picking flies out of their teeth, flushing the adrenalin through with cold beer.

  ‘What’s all this crap?’ Jude said. He lifted up the covers, peeked underneath. ‘Nice catheter, man.’

  Dixie slapped his hand away. Jude tugged on a tube that was coming out of—or going into depending on how you wanted to look at it—Dixie’s mouth.

  ‘Let me help you with that. You’ll never be able to drink a beer with that crap in your mouth.’

  He pulled it all the way out. Dropped it to the floor, saliva dripping out the end. Then he yanked on the one stuck in Dixie’s arm and Dixie was surprised when he didn’t even feel it. Pretty soon Jude had him free of the whole lot of them. It didn’t make a damn bit of difference. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he last felt so good. He felt like a man with no troubles in this world or the next.

  He sat upright, swung his feet off the bed. The cool floor felt good. He stood, realized his leg didn’t hurt for the first time since he didn’t know when. He looked down at his bare feet, a breeze on his ass where the hospital gown gaped at the back.

  ‘I hope we’re not going to some gay bar with me dressed like this.’ He turned and pointed to his bare ass.

  Jude laughed and Dixie realized how much he’d missed him. He wouldn’t let him slip away again.

  ‘We can go anywhere you want, Bro, it’s your party,’ Jude said, slapping him on the back. ‘Got everything you need?’

  Dixie looked around although he didn’t know why. Everything he needed was standing right beside him.

  Chapter 37

  KATE GUILLORY FELT GUILTY for sending Evan back to his office. There wasn’t really any good reason why she couldn’t have done it for him. So she headed out, drove a couple of blocks, then parked and tried calling him. As usual, Evan wasn’t answering his phone. She didn’t know why the guy bothered owning one. She might as well head over to his office. Maybe she’d intercept him on the way or catch up with him in the parking lot.

  She was a few moments too late. Passing his building, she caught sight of his back disappearing through the front door. She parked on the street. Then her phone rang as she was about to get out. Maybe Evan was calling her back. She pulled it out, looked at the display: Ryder.

  ‘Thought I’d keep you in the loop,’ her partner said.

  Her stomach clenched at the tone of his voice. Anger—but with a hint of a silver lining somewhere behind it. Smug satisfaction, perhaps.

  ‘Delacroix died a couple hours ago.’

  Her mouth had dried up, throat closed. She couldn’t think what to say. She heard him blow smoke into the receiver.

  ‘I thought you quit,’ she croaked, sounding as if she’d smoked a packet herself.

  ‘Yeah, well, looks like I started again. There’s kind of a stressful atmosphere here at the moment.’ He cleared his throat noisily. Then it sounded to her like he spat on the floor. ‘What with a fellow officer being murdered.’

  She pushed open the car door. Climbed out, took a deep breath. The air was as clean as fresh laundry. She leaned against the car, elbows propped on the roof. Closed her eyes. They were both quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  ‘Thought I’d let you know.’

  ‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’

  ‘Seeing as it seems to me you need a little help deciding whose side you’re on, Kate.’

  She wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. Felt her face get hot.

  ‘It’s probably best if you stay away from Buckley—’

  His words were cut short by the sound of glass shattering. She spun around. Saw a shower of glass descend from an upstairs window. Followed by an executive swivel chair.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Ryder said. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Gotta go.’

  She stuffed the phone in her pocket. Ran for the doors. Grabbed the right handle and pushed. Then the left and pulled. Locked. Took a couple of steps back, shoulder charged them where they met. Burst them wide open. She sprinted for the stairs. Took them two at a time, turned right at the top towards where all the noise was coming from
. Shot down the corridor towards Evan’s open door.

  Evan had a guy built like a brick outhouse in a choke hold. Left arm looped around his neck, right hand behind his head, pushing, scissoring the carotid artery, cutting off blood flow. The guy’s face was a rich wine color, his eyes losing focus. A skinny guy with a busted nose and one arm strapped up was ducking and diving, dancing around, trying to land punches on Evan’s head with a set of brass knuckles while Evan choked the consciousness out of his partner.

  ‘Hey,’ Guillory yelled.

  Evan stared at her, his face contorted with exertion, from behind Brick Outhouse’s head. His grip loosened a fraction at the surprise of seeing her standing there. It was all Brick Outhouse needed. He twisted to the side, gave Skinny an open shot at Evan. Skinny swung his foot, caught Evan with a lucky kick to the balls.

  Guillory felt it herself, all the way from the doorway. Groaned with him.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Skinny said. It came out as led’s doe.

  Brick Outhouse threw Evan’s arms off as he crumpled to the floor. He shook his head. Still woozy, he lunged at Guillory. She stepped easily to the side, stuck out her foot. He crashed into the wall as Skinny dodged past, set off down the corridor. Evan groaned on the floor, nursing his tackle, communing with the carpet. She looked down at him.

  Fat lot of use you are.

  There wasn’t any point trying to bring down Brick Outhouse on her own. She needed to finish what she’d come for before the police turned up. She didn’t want to be caught here with Evan. Not after her recent conversation with Ryder.

  She took a couple steps away from the door. Gave a low sweep of her hand, indicating to Brick Outhouse that the path was now clear. The guy grunted something unintelligible, edging past her then lumbered off down the corridor.

  ***

  ‘YOU DISTRACTED ME,’ Evan complained as she pulled him into a sitting position, leaned him against the wall.

  ‘So get a longer attention span. We haven’t got much time. Where’s the gun?’

  ‘Bottom drawer, on the left.’

  He shifted uncomfortably as he tried to pull his keys out of his pocket.

  ‘Want me to return the favour?’ she said, a reference to when he fished her phone out of her pocket a couple days’ ago.

  The suggestion turned him even paler. Made everything below the belt ache harder. He found the key, passed it over.

  ‘Another time maybe.’

  ‘You could’ve avoided all this if you kept the gun at home.’

  ‘Uh-uh.’

  Something in his tone, the speed he came back at her, made her look at him.

  ‘That’s very definite. You got something against guns in the house?’

  He shook his head, his face clouding over.

  ‘Not me. Sarah. She wouldn’t have one in the house.’

  ‘But she’s not—’

  ‘I know. She’s not there. Maybe some of it rubbed off on me. Something happened to her when she was a kid. She wouldn’t ever tell me what it was. But guns freaked her out.’

  It wasn’t the time to get into a discussion about Evan and Sarah’s domestic arrangements. Guillory wasn’t sure that time would ever come, changed the subject.

  ‘Who threw the chair out the window?’

  ‘The big guy. He was aiming at my head.’

  Her face broke into a grin.

  ‘I don’t know how he missed a target that big. It’s lucky he did. I was on the phone to Ryder at the time. I wouldn’t have got up here so fast if it hadn’t been for the chair.’

  ‘How is the fat bastard?’

  ‘Smoking again. He’s a bit stressed out. On account of Delacroix passing away earlier today.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Yeah. Well put.’

  ‘So now he’s after me for murder?’

  She didn’t answer, pulled the drawer open. They both peered in. Evan’s gun smiled back at them, next to a half-eaten cheese sandwich.

  ‘Damn,’ she said.

  He reached in, took the gun and the sandwich out. Put the gun on the desk. Took a bite of the sandwich.

  ‘It’s still okay,’ he mumbled through a mouthful of month-old cheese. ‘You want a bite?’

  Her expression made it clear the only thing she was likely to take a bite of was his head. She snatched the sandwich out of his hand, hurled it out the broken window.

  ‘I don’t know how you can act like this. Don’t you care that they’re after you for murder now and your best chance of a defense just went up in smoke?’

  ‘I suppose whoever it was could’ve used my gun and then brought it back again,’ he said. His voice suggested he wasn’t fully behind the idea. ‘Better than just stealing it. Anyway, I asked the owner of the building for the CCTV footage. That’ll tell us one way or the other.’

  ‘If it even works.’

  He gave her a shove on the shoulder.

  ‘Now who’s being negative?’

  She laughed, a small, sharp sound like a cat’s sneeze.

  ‘What, you think you’ve got a monopoly on that?’

  She was interrupted by the sound of a police siren in the distance, distinct through the gaping hole where the window used to be.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. Somebody must have called it in. I can’t be caught with you here.’

  Chapter 38

  EVAN MET GUILLORY FOR an early breakfast the next morning. The air inside the diner was thick, lubricated with the smell of eggs and old grease. She was already there, working her way through her breakfast. Although it was only seven in the morning, he got the last seat up at the counter.

  ‘You go ahead and order,’ he said. ‘Don’t bother waiting for me.’

  She looked at him and laughed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What is it with your hair? Doesn’t matter what time of day we meet, you always look like somebody’s just tousled it. Haven’t you heard of a comb?’

  ‘It’s not my fault all these women come up to me in the street wanting to run their fingers through it.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. ‘Anything on the CCTV?’

  Evan shook his head. Yawned so loudly it sounded like somebody was vacuuming his mouth.

  ‘Nothing we don’t already know about.’

  Jacobson had dropped off the disk after Evan called him in the middle of the previous night. He’d impressed upon Jacobson the urgency and importance of the police not getting hold of any evidence showing Guillory in his office, assisting him, a suspected felon. Jacobson had grudgingly dropped it off an hour later, still dressed in his PJs. Something had been said about rent doubling overnight.

  Everything for the past four days had been there. Apart from the visit from Skinny and Brick Outhouse there’d only been one other intruder—and that was Dixie. After watching him break into his office, Evan had suddenly gone cold as he realized what a close shave he’d had. Sweat popped out on his skin, the DVR remote suddenly slick in his hand. He’d told Jacobson the truth when he said he didn’t want to drop Guillory in it. What he hadn’t realized at the time was he’d simultaneously deprived Ryder of a piece of incriminating evidence he’d have given his right arm for. Proof of Dixie’s visit to his office followed by some nice footage of Evan leaving with a cut and bloody face—all immediately before somebody shot Dixie in the back two blocks away.

  But apart from that accidental bonus, the whole thing had been a total waste of time. Nobody had broken into his office to steal his gun. And nobody brought it back again after shooting Dixie.

  She nodded like she hadn’t expected it to pan out anyway.

  ‘What did you do with the disk?’

  ‘Gave it back to Jacobson. Told him to pass it on to the police.’

  Her fork stalled halfway to her mouth. She looked across at him, saw the grin.

  ‘Idiot. What did I ever do to deserve this?’

  He shrugged, the grin wider. Raised his coffee cup in a salute.<
br />
  ‘Tell me you’re joking. I need to hear you say the words.’

  ‘I’m joking. Don’t worry. It’d be worse for me if they got hold of it. It shows Delacroix breaking into my office right before he got shot.’

  Her shoulders relaxed. She carried on eating.

  ‘What if they ask to see it?’

  ‘I told him to say he wired it himself, didn’t do it right.’

  ‘I’ve got a better idea. Tell him to say he asked the half-assed PI in the office upstairs to do it. They won’t have any trouble believing that.’

  He waited patiently while she laughed. Slapped her good-naturedly on the back when she choked on a piece of bacon.

  ‘So where does that leave us?’

  ‘Luckily for you, some of us have been doing something useful this morning while you were still cuddled up with your teddy bear.’

  He picked up his coffee, waited for her to continue.

  ‘I called into the department this morning,’ she said, no hint of a joke in her voice now. ‘The guy in charge of evidence handling owes me. He let me into the evidence room. I wanted to find out what else Dixie had on him as well as the picture of Sarah.’

  His mouth must have been hanging open because she paused to give him a strange look.

  ‘Are you following this so far or should I talk slower?’

  ‘No. I’m just—’

  ‘Amazed anybody would want to risk their career to save your sorry ass?’

  He took a deep breath. Held it a couple of beats.

  ‘Yeah, that about sums it up.’

  Her face told him it was the right answer. It wouldn’t be necessary to stop his allowance after all.

  ‘Good. That’s how you’re meant to feel. I bet you thought you’ve got the monopoly on stubborn and stupid, eh?’

  He didn't think he had the monopoly, but he sure had a big slice of the market. He nodded some more and finished his coffee, waved for the waitress to fill them both up again.

  Guillory waited for her to wander off again, then pulled a battered notebook out of her pocket, folded it back to a page of jottings. She placed it on the counter between them. Evan leaned in to get a better look.