Before The Killing Starts (Dixie Killer Blues Book 1)

by James, Harper

  'Why? Because they want you to stop doing something or because they want to make you do something for them?' He was almost talking to himself. Asking the questions and answering them as well.

  'Evan?'

  He stopped pacing and looked at her.

  'You're getting ahead of yourself here.'

  He realized she was right. He was trying to analyze the situation without knowing what the hell was going on.

  'You're right. Why don't you start at the beginning? Tell me about Dixie.'

  'Okay. Why don't you sit down first? You're making me nervous pacing up and down.'

  He sat on the bed and let her tell her story.

  'Before I start I need to say that you're not going to like this. But just hear me out before you start going ballistic.'

  He let out a short, humorless laugh. He was looking forward to this already.

  'You know Dixie's an undercover cop.'

  He nodded. He also knew that nobody seemed to know which side he was on any more.

  'I was his snitch—'

  'That's a crock. If you were his snitch, it means you have a relationship with him, a system for getting in touch and all the rest of it. How comes you need me to find him?'

  'Just listen will you.'

  'Why were you snitching for him?'

  'Evan!' It was almost a scream. The people in the next room would have heard it easily. 'Just shut up and let me tell you. Jesus Christ.'

  She took a deep breath. He held his hands open as an invitation for her to continue.

  'I had a job in a real dive of a bar—and no, it wasn't Kelly's. The money was awful and so when the manager asked me one day if I wanted to make a bit extra on the side I jumped at it. It was just delivering boxes to people. No big deal. Most of the people I was delivering them to were complete low-lifes and I had to go to some pretty scary places, but he was paying me really well.'

  'And you thought what? You were delivering potato chips?'

  She gave him a look that said it's all very well for you to say, after the event.

  'You knew what was in them?'

  'I had a pretty good idea. I'm not stupid, you know.'

  'But you didn't actually look?'

  She shook her head. 'No. I was desperate for money. I didn't want to think about it. The consequences if I was caught. It was stupid, but it was easy work and I didn't get caught—'

  'Until . . .'

  'Exactly, until.'

  'Dixie caught you?'

  She nodded. 'Obviously he didn't make the arrest—he was working undercover. But they had me in an interview room and in he walks. The rest, as they say, is history.'

  She shook her head in frustration and started picking at her fingernails.

  'He gave me a straight choice. Work for him or go to prison.' She looked up at him. He wasn't sure what the emotion in her eyes was. Self-pity, most likely. 'What would you have done?'

  He gave a small twitch of the shoulders. 'Same as you, I suppose.'

  He couldn't feel sorry for her, even if she was Sarah's friend. She'd brought it on herself. He'd never worked for drug dealers and he'd known some pretty bad times.

  'Dixie was obviously well in with them,' she continued, 'and he arranged things so that I was doing more and more for them. Obviously he put in a good word for me. Like any good employer would for one of his best employees.' She snorted unpleasantly.

  Evan could almost taste the bitterness in her voice.

  'It got to the point where I was going on some of the big deals with them. Lord knows why they wanted a woman along. All those macho wet backs. Maybe they wanted me along in case they fancied a cup of coffee.'

  He smiled to himself. Maybe they just recognized that you were a more ruthless bastard than any of the men.

  'The situation was unbearable,' she said. 'You can't imagine what it's like. Petrified that at any moment they're going to find out that you're a snitch.' She drew a fast line across her throat with her finger. 'Sayonara.'

  'So what happened?'

  She smiled. 'Let's say an opportunity presented itself. An opportunity to get out for good with enough money to disappear forever.'

  Everything fell into place in Evan's mind.

  'So you ripped them off.'

  She nodded. He thought he could almost see a hint of pride in her expression. Satisfaction certainly.

  'How much?'

  'A lot. In the millions.'

  If Evan had been prone to letting out low whistles, he'd have done it then. She had more balls than most guys he knew.

  'So where does Dixie come into it.' He held up a finger. 'Let me guess—you want to find him so that he can pull you out in return for handing over the drug dealers' money.' He smiled knowingly. 'Most of it, anyway.'

  She raised her arms and clasped her hands on top of her head. 'If only it was that simple. Dixie's the problem, not the answer.'

  Chapter 33

  'This is where we get to the bit you're not going to like,' Ellie said

  He wished she wouldn't keep saying that. He was already feeling very uncomfortable with what he'd heard so far. The supposedly simple task that she'd given him of finding Dixie had turned into something very different. He wished she'd just get on with it and let him make his own mind up about what he did and didn't like.

  'Do you have any idea how difficult it is to store stuff temporarily after 9/11?'

  He shook his head.

  'Immediately afterwards they removed all the lockers in airports and train stations. Then they relaxed a bit and brought them back but most of them are biometric so they work with your fingerprint. The biggest problem is that you can't leave stuff for any length of time. They clear them out after twenty-four hours.'

  'I can see how that would give your everyday rip-off artist a problem.'

  She ignored the jibe.

  'I put the money in a locker at the train station to begin with, but I needed to store it somewhere that would allow me to be away from it for more than twenty-four hours.'

  Suddenly Evan realized where this was going, but he didn't want to hear her say it.

  'I asked Sarah to keep it for me for a few days.'

  Her words hit Evan like a slap around the face. His guts twisted violently. If he hadn't already been sitting on the bed his legs would have crumpled. He felt as if he'd been given something—something that he wanted more than anything else in the world—only to have it snatched away before he could grasp it. If he could believe her—and he knew it was a massive if—he had proof Sarah was alive. And then, a fraction of a nano-second later, came the news that she'd been dragged into Ellie's sordid drug dealer rip-off scam. And he knew as sure as hell that she wasn't about to tell him she picked the money up again two days later, no problem.

  'You've gone a funny green color,' she said. There was even a hint of real concern in her voice.

  He gave her a what did you expect? look. Like she'd just told him she'd seen Sarah at the mall. No big deal. Not that she'd just given her a few million dollars of stolen drug money to hold onto.

  He snorted. 'I feel a lot worse than just turning green.' He stood up. He felt a bit shaky on his legs and he was far too hot. He took off his jacket and threw it on the bed. He crossed the room and stood over her as she sat in the armchair. She shrank backwards into it.

  'I didn't have any choice. Honestly . . .' Her voice was whiney now. He wanted to get his hands around her neck and squeeze until the horrible noise stopped. And the breathing too. Seeing her eyeballs pop would be good too.

  'Tell me you went back and picked the money up again a few days later, no problem.'

  She tried to stand up but he pushed her back down into the chair. She clasped her hands together in her lap. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

  'Tell me, Ellie,' he shouted.

  He looked down at the top of her head level with his stomach. He didn't even feel like saying: while you're down there. . .

  'No,' she said quietly, 'that isn't how it went.'


  He spun round and stamped over to the window to stop himself from slapping her.

  'What happened?'

  'Dixie came after the money.'

  'For himself or for the people you ripped off?'

  For himself, I think.'

  Evan swallowed a lump the size of his fist. He felt sick. He didn't know exactly where this was going, but he knew it wasn't anywhere good. There wasn't going to be a happy ending any time soon.

  'Dixie found Sarah,' Ellie said. Her voice wasn't whiney any more, just dead. Resigned. Helpless. Hopeless.

  'How?' His voice sounded the same. A please tell me your very worst news voice.

  She shook her head, still not looking at him. 'I don't know. Does it matter?'

  'Not really—apart from the fact that he manages to do in a couple of days what I couldn't do in five years. But no, it doesn't alter the outcome.'

  'He made her tell him where the money was.'

  Somehow he managed to not think about the implications of that statement immediately, because what she said didn't make sense.

  'What do you mean? You said she had it.'

  'She wasn’t happy with it lying around the apartment'—he laughed ironically at that—'so she moved it to a self-storage facility.'

  'So why the hell didn't you do that in the first place?'

  She shrugged helplessly. 'I don't know. I didn't think about it. Those places are big. Who puts a single bag in one? I was more worried about who might be coming after me.'

  He looked at her and felt a rising tide of disgust inside him. He didn't want to hear any more of this. It was only going to get worse. He refused to even think about what the ultimate outcome might be.

  'You said he made her tell him where the money was. How?'

  She looked at him like he was an idiot. 'How do you think?'

  Her strode across the room and stood over her again. He reached down and grabbed hold of her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her head back until she was staring into his face.

  'We don't all live in a world where people routinely torture other people to get what they want. Pardon me if I'm finding it difficult to get my head around it.' He threw her head back against the chair and walked away.

  'You want to know what these people are like?' she said. 'Here, look at this.'

  She started to unbutton her blouse. Evan stared in astonishment. She got it open all the way down and then took hold of one of her breasts and lifted in up. She got hold of the bottom of the cup of her brassiere and pulled it halfway up over her breast. In the crease of flesh between her breast and ribs he saw a four inch long adhesive bandage taped to her skin. For a split second he wondered if she was going to ask him to rub some ointment in.

  'They were going to slice my breast off.' Her voice cracked as she said it.

  Now that would be a waste. She had very nice breasts.

  'That was after they were going to cut off my nipple'—Evan wondered if she was going to show it to him in case he didn't know what one looked like—'with some gardening secateurs.' She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her other hand.

  He shuddered at the thought. Women might have better nipples than men, but men still have them, and he had no problem imagining the horror of having one snipped off.

  She pulled her brassiere back into place and buttoned herself up again. He wondered if the demonstration had been strictly necessary. It also made him wonder what had occurred to stop them following through on their threats. They'd released her—there must be conditions attached.

  So far he'd managed to hold off thinking about Sarah being tortured. But Ellie's graphic demonstration was too much. He imagined Sarah tied up and helpless, straining against her bonds, screaming and sobbing as some maniac snipped off the end of her nipple. He felt light-headed at the thought of the dark red blood gushing out, her helpless screams music to the ears of her tormentor.

  It was suddenly way too hot in the room. His head felt like it was about to explode. His mouth was dry, his throat scratchy. He swallowed the ball bearing caught in his gullet.

  'I've got to get a glass of water,' he said.

  He took a couple of quick strides across the room to the bathroom and slammed the door after him. He filled the sink with cold water and buried his face in it. If it had been deeper he'd have stuck his whole head under the water. He pulled the plug and watched someone else’s pubic hair swirl round and round until it disappeared down the drain. He poured himself a glass of water and downed it in one swallow, before slumping down on the toilet seat. He rested his head in his hands and forced himself to calm down. When he felt a bit better he poured himself another glass and carried it back into the room.

  Chapter 34

  'Do you know . . . what happened?' Evan asked, as he came out of the bathroom.

  She took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile on her lips. 'She's okay. I've seen her. She's badly shaken up but she's okay.'

  Thank God for that. He felt his whole body slump and relax, like a large lump of Jell-O that hadn't quite set. He let out a massive breath and dropped onto the bed. Couldn't she have told him that in the first place, instead of all the warnings about you're not going to like this.

  'So Dixie's got the money. That's why you want to find him.' He laughed. 'You think he'll give you some of it if you ask nicely?' Thinking back to the display he'd just been given he imagined she could ask very nicely indeed if she had the mind to.

  'No, he hasn't got it.'

  'I'm getting lost here,' he admitted.

  'You underestimate your wife.'

  He was glad she called her that, rather than ex-wife which is what it felt like now, although he was starting to wonder what he did feel any more. It certainly seemed like he didn't know the first thing about her.

  'How so?'

  'She gave Dixie the key but she told him the wrong storage facility. He took her along with him when he went to pick up the money. They were stopped at a traffic signal and she jumped out and got away. He couldn't just leave the car where it was and chase after her. Plus he thought he had the right address so he wasn't too concerned. What was she going to do? Call the cops?'

  Evan was impressed. He wouldn't have thought Sarah would have had the presence of mind to give him the wrong address after he'd beaten her up at the least, if not actually tortured her. And then to give him the slip as well. That's my girl. Or was.

  'I can see you're impressed,' she said.

  He couldn't help grinning. 'I'd never have believed it.'

  'It's obvious who wore the pants in your household.'

  He thought that was a bit below the belt. He didn't want to take anything away from what Sarah had done but even so . . .

  'So what happened next? He had the key.'

  Now she grinned. 'He had one of the keys. They give you two. She called me and I went and picked her up. Then we drove to the right facility, picked up the money and moved it to another one. It's easy; they're all over the place.'

  'So you've still got the money.'

  She nodded. He thought her face might split in two if she grinned any wider.

  'What about Sarah?'

  The grin melted away. Evan's stomach clenched without permission. He pushed himself off the bed and stood over her. His hand itched to slap her.

  'What about Sarah? Where is she now?'

  She shook her head, a helpless gesture. He bent down, took hold of her shoulders and shook her, his fingers digging into her flesh.

  'I don't know.' She blinked in quick succession. He wondered suddenly if she was going to cry. He'd give her something to cry about if she kept this up much longer. 'She said she'd call me and then ran off.'

  He let go of her arms and stood up.

  'I'm not surprised after you put Dixie onto her—'

  'I didn't put Dixie onto her,' she screamed, 'he found her.'

  'Maybe she doesn't want to be found again.' He walked over to the bathroom door; felt like punching a hole through
it. 'So you don't actually know where she is.'

  'I just told you—she's going to call me.'

  'Yeah, right. And even if she does, you won't tell me anything until I've found Dixie for you.'

  She shrugged as if to say: that's the way it goes.

  'Unless you're going to beat it out of me, of course.' The smugness was back with a vengeance.

  She was a little too full of herself for his liking but he was between a rock and a hard place. It was the fact that she knew it that really got his goat.

  'Why do you want to find Dixie anyway? I'd have thought he was the last person you wanted to meet.'

  The mention of Dixie wiped the smile off her face about as fast as Chico's secateurs would have done, but without it being so much fun. He could feel her get wary, see it in the way she deliberately leaned back into the chair, spread her arms and pretended to be casual.

  'I need to come to an . . . arrangement with him.'

  'Do a deal, you mean.'

  'Yes.' She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. Earnest, you-can-trust-me face. Nitty gritty time. 'I'll split the money with him. In return he leaves me alone. I can't spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.'

  'And Sarah.' He raised a questioning eyebrow as if to say: sorry to bring up such a trivial matter.

  'Yes, and Sarah.' Her tone of voice implying: what sort of a person do you think I am?

  They stared at each other a few beats. Evan felt as if he was being asked to decide on Dixie's behalf whether it was an acceptable proposition or not. He'd not met the guy yet, but as far as he was concerned, he'd have been happy for him to take the lot and give her a swift kick in the cooter for good measure.

  'Why are you so worried about him?'

  The look on her face suggested she was having a problem believing anybody could be so stupid. He wanted to slap that one off too.

  'You were quite happy having the drug dealers after you. Or were you going to do a deal with them? Offer them half of their money back?'

  She laughed out loud at that.

  'You haven't met Dixie have you? There's a world of difference between a guy like him and a bunch of wetback drug dealers. I was willing to take my chances on them never finding me, him, not so much.'