Chapter 26

Evan took a deep breath before answering his phone. It was Ellie—or at least it was Ellie's phone. He couldn't be sure after the bogus texts he'd received. And if it was really her he was going to need a big dose of self control—something he wasn't generally known for—to stop him from ripping into her. So much had gone on since he last talked to her, so many questions needed to be answered.

He pressed the green button but he didn't say anything.

'Evan?'

It was her. But was she alone? Somebody else had either sent the texts from her phone or made her do it. Were they listening in now? She sounded normal, not stressed or worried. Then again, all she'd said was Evan. And she was a two-faced bitch, after all.

'Ellie. I wondered when you'd call. Where have you been?' He didn't try to hide the annoyance in his voice.

Silence came down the phone line at him. He was surprised. He would have thought she'd have her excuses all ready for him, try to drown him in a deluge of lies and bullshit.

'Hello?' he said, as the silence stretched out.

'I know you probably don't trust me now,' she said, avoiding answering his question, 'but we really need to meet.'

He snorted. 'That sounds familiar. How about I come to your hotel room? You know, third time lucky.'

'I can explain everything.'

'Yeah right, you mean like those texts? Doughnuts or danish? Except that you couldn't make it and sent a couple of friends instead.'

He heard her let out an exasperated rush of air. 'I didn't have any choice.'

'How do I know this is any different now?'

Answer that one if you can.

'You'll have to trust me.'

Evan gave an exaggerated laugh. 'You wouldn't know what trust was if it jumped up and bit you on the ass.'

'I don't know what I can say to you to make you believe me.'

'I can see how you might have a problem with that, seeing as telling the truth isn't in your DNA.'

He thought about ending the call. Just talking to her, hearing her voice, was enough to make him want to punch the wall.

'How about you tell me from start to finish what's going on. Then I'll make a couple of decisions. One: do I believe a word you've told me, and, two, do I care enough even if I do?'

He knew that he'd never just walk away from it all, not now that he'd found the other half of the photograph with what he was increasingly certain was Sarah's arm in it. But she didn't know that. Or did she? Would she have gone back to the hotel to get her stuff? Even if she had, would she have noticed that it was missing? She might have thought that whoever tossed the room—the same two guys presumably—had taken it. Anyway it was worth the gamble.

'Why don't you start by telling me who Dixie is.'

'He's just a guy I know.'

Bad start, Ellie.

'So he's not an undercover cop?'

That made her pause for a second.

'Do you know what happened to me when I started asking about him in that dive of a bar?'

'No.'

Was that the slightest of pauses before her answer?

'First of all I ended up in a fight. That might or might not have had something to do with asking about Dixie. It could also just be that the pond life that inhabit places like that feel threatened by people with a double digit IQ and so attack them as a matter of course. Makes me wonder what Dixie might do if I find him.'

Ellie didn't say anything.

'Then I got chased by a couple of thugs who wanted to know why I was looking for Dixie. Luckily for me the cops turned up and I got away. And then, surprise, surprise, the same two guys send me a breakfast invite on your phone and turn up at the hotel instead of you. So I'd like to hear a good reason why I should ever believe another word that comes out of your mouth.' His voice had risen to a shout and he wished he'd said filthy mouth while he was at it.

She started to say something but Evan hadn't finished.

'Did you know Dixie is an undercover cop? Yes or no?'

There was another pause while she weighed up the pros and cons of telling the truth.

'Yes or no? Five seconds before I hang up. Five . . . Four . . . Three . . .'

'Yes.'

'Ha! Do you know I think that's the first thing you've ever said that I believe? We're finally starting to get somewhere.'

Something else suddenly crossed his mind.

'Are you an undercover cop? Or just a regular cop for that matter? Or anything else that I might like to know? Like an FBI agent? Or CIA? DEA? WTF?'

'Don't be ridiculous.' She spat the last word out as if it were contaminated.

'What's ridiculous? It seems to me that anything can happen here.'

'Well I'm not any of those things.'

'So what's your connection to Dixie if it isn't a professional one . . .'

A noise in the background on her end of the line made him stop mid-flow.

'What was that?'

'What was what?'

'It sounded like someone coughing. Is there somebody there with you?'

'For Christ's sake Evan. I'm in a diner. There's loads of people in here. But they're not with me, they're just eating and drinking—and coughing. I'll ask the guy to go outside next time he wants to cough. Or sneeze. Okay?'

Actually it wasn't okay as far as he was concerned. He had no way of knowing if she was telling the truth or not. What he did know was that she hadn't gone somewhere private to make what should have been a very private call. He couldn't think about that now.

'What's your connection to Dixie?' he asked again. 'Because the events of the past couple of days tell me that he's not just the long lost love of your life that you've suddenly realized you can't live without.'

'I worked for him.'

Now they were getting somewhere.

'Worked past tense or still working?'

'Both I suppose,' she admitted.

He had a fairly good idea what that work involved.

'Doing what?'

A long pause followed. Evan wondered if he could correlate the length of the pauses with the likely truthfulness of her replies.

'Doing what?' he said again.

'I was one of his snitches.'

At least that seemed to make sense. It felt about right for the mess he found himself in at the moment. On the other hand it didn't seem to make any sense at all.

'Then surely you don't need me to make contact with him for you.'

'It's all very complicated. I'll tell you all about it when we meet.'

If it hadn't been for her promise to help him find Sarah—a promise given extra credence by the photograph sitting in his pocket as they spoke—he'd have cut the call and walked away. She was still holding information back, that was for sure. And it could still all be another trap. But that didn't really make sense. If somebody was holding her and forcing her to make the call to try to trap him, she'd presumably be there when they caught him. All he'd do then would be to tell them that he was only looking for Dixie because she asked him to. So everything would be back on her head and they wouldn't need him any more. It sounded okay in theory, unless the people who had her had a rule about disposing of anybody they didn't need anymore. It made his head hurt to think about it.

'Okay,' he said cautiously. 'Where do you want to meet?'

He was sure she was gloating on the other end of the line. She was getting her own way again. He remembered that was another thing he'd always hated about her back in the day.

'I've moved hotels—'

'That's another thing. When I went to your hotel it was obvious somebody had searched the place. What were they looking for?'

'You'd have to ask them.'

Okay, that was it. He cut the call.

It rang again immediately as he knew it would.

'Last chance, Ellie.'

'I promise I'll tell you everything when I see you.' Her voice was a nasty mix of pleading and whining. If she thought a tone of voice like that would persuade anybody to do anything for her—apart from give her a good slap around the face—she was sadly mistaken. However, in this case, it was going to work . . .