Soft taps sounded across the wooden hall floor, then stopped. A double clump, as she removed her pumps and laid them down.
The click of the hall closet door. The rasping whoosh of a box being pulled off the shelf. A moment of silence. Then an unmistakable sound.
“Hall closet.” I could hear Jack’s voice as we’d discussed this on the flight. “Top shelf. Box with some scarves. Keeps a gun there.”
One of several guns secreted around the house, he’d explained, listing all the locations.
“You’re upstairs? Hall’s most likely. Hear her get it? Leave.”
A shadow crossed the bottom landing.
“Evelyn?” I called.
The shadow retreated.
“Yes?” she replied.
“I’m going to take a shower. Wash away some of this jet lag.”
“All right.”
I walked backward into the bathroom, locked the door, thumped around a bit and turned on the shower. Then I retreated to my hiding place, making sure no shadow or mirror reflection gave me away.
This wasn’t what Jack wanted, but I didn’t think he was the best person to make that decision. Even when he’d been convinced Evelyn hadn’t been involved, he’d tried to figure out way to confront her himself, take me out of the equation. When it became obvious there was no way to do that, he’d instructed me to go into the bathroom, run the shower…and escape out the window, which overlooked the porch roof. Whatever happened, I was not to confront Evelyn myself.
Worried for me? Or her?
Did I pose a danger to her? That depended on whether she’d done anything to deserve it. But even if she was involved in this, I’d stay my hand, for Jack’s sake-let him handle this, as was his prerogative.
When he’d asked me to sneak out the window, I hadn’t agreed-just let my silence suggest I did. I’d had no intention of backing down from a confrontation. Even if Evelyn was guilty, I could control my instincts and step aside for Jack when the time came.
After a moment, the lock on the door clicked open. A pause. Then the sound of the handle turning. I adjusted my grip on the gun.
A faint squeak as the door opened. A blur of motion, Evelyn swinging around the doorway, gun trained not on the shower but behind the door.
I stepped from the alcove by the toilet. She spun, gun going up, lips twisting in a hard smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Clever girl,” she said. “Not quite clever enough, though.”
“I managed a draw. I’d say that’s pretty good.”
I could have dropped her while she was turning, but I didn’t say that.
“Where’s Jack?” she asked.
Her gaze was on my hands, watching for movement. Mine stayed on her eyes. I’d see her decision there before her trigger finger responded.
“You think I’d tell you?” I said. “So you can shoot me, then-”
“If you don’t tell me where Jack is in five seconds, I will shoot you, and then you’ll be in so much pain you’ll tell me anything I want…but it won’t be anything comparable to the pain you’ll be in if I find out you’ve done anything to him. Now, where is Jack?”
A shadow filled the doorway behind her.
“Right here,” Jack said. “Don’t turn. Just look in the mirror.”
She did. When she saw Jack behind her, with a gun pointed at the back of her skull, something indecipherable flashed through her eyes. Then she blinked, and said, “Et tu, Brutus?” A glance my way. “Well, if Jack’s alive and pointing a gun at my head, this obviously isn’t what I thought it was.”
“And what was that?” I asked.
“First?” Jack said. “Evelyn? Gun on the floor.”
She flashed a smile at him through the mirror. “Making you nervous, Jacko?”
She raised her gun, pointing it at me, but her eyes stayed on him. A look passed between them, unreadable from my angle. Then Evelyn lowered her weapon, crouched and laid it on the floor.
FORTY-TWO
Downstairs, Jack sat with his gun on his lap, a polite reminder.
“You said this wasn’t what you thought,” I began. “And that would be…?”
“I hadn’t made up my mind,” Evelyn said.
I waited for an explanation, but she only eased back in her chair and slanted a look at Jack, who grunted, as if her meaning was perfectly clear.
“So what the hell is this about?” Evelyn said. “I can’t even imagine what I could have done to deserve both of you pulling guns on me.”
“Gallagher talked,” Jack said. “Gave Dee a name.”
“ Dee? But she said…Okay, so this must be connected to that name. What could-?” She paused. “Gallagher didn’t finger me, did he? Now, that would explain this reaction, but it’s obviously impossible. I was with Dee for one murder and couldn’t have done the others then gotten back here in time to meet you two.”
“Wilkes.”
“The killer is Wilkes-Bullshit. Gallagher is pulling your-” She studied our faces. “And if I continue like that, I’ll only convince you I’m involved. You honestly think I’d cover for that loser, Jack? Partner with him on a job this big?”
“Had to know.”
“The only person I’d trust on something like this would be you. Wilkes ranks at the bottom of my former partners and protégés. I still say he could not be responsible. He doesn’t have the ingenuity-”
“Forget ingenuity. Technical skill?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“Could have quietly killed Kozlov. Not easy. Not impossible, either. Didn’t need this…exit strategy. Wanted more. Had something to prove.”
“Well, yes, theoretically that would fit Wilkes-”
“Gets a taste for power. Control. Gets drunk on it. Full of himself. Challenging the Feds. Making impossible demands. Playing head games. Thinking he’s winning. Now he’s somebody. Finally somebody.”
Evelyn sighed, then shook her head. “Son of a bitch. So now we need to find him. That’s not going to be easy.”
“Jack says you know his name,” I said. “His real name. Is that going to help?”
“I trained him well,” Evelyn said. “If he’s using a name, it’s probably not his own. If it is his own, any information you’d find with it would lead to a dead end. Even at the absolutely best scenario-he’s forgotten everything I’ve taught him and has a house registered under his real name-we aren’t going to show up there and find him. I’ll do the search and give you what I find, but right now, he’s out there-” She waved at the window. “Setting up his next attack. We need to figure out what that is.”
“We might already know,” I said, and told her about the missed train tip and the next one, in West Virginia.
“He fucked up with the train,” Evelyn said. “Personally, I like your idea, Dee, fulfill a promise, break a promise, get the Feds running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Brilliant-and exactly what I’d do. You, Jack or I could pull that stunt without giving a shit who thought we’d ‘failed’ the train hit. But Wilkes? Not a chance.” She lifted three fingers. “One: he’s single-minded. Two: he lacks creativity. Three: he’s got a balloon ego.”
“Balloon ego?” I said.
Jack grunted. “One prick, it deflates.”
“Something did go wrong with that train hit,” Evelyn said. “As for what, it’s moot. What matters is that he’ll be mad as hell right about now. He’s going to be at that parade, and he’s going to make a hit, and if the Feds are standing this one down, then I’d sure as hell recommend we be there.”
“To do what?” Jack said. “Needle in a haystack.”
“True,” I said. “But do you know the best way to find a needle in a haystack? With a magnet.”
Evelyn chuckled. Jack went still for a minute, then his gaze shot to mine, eyes hardening.
“Better not be suggesting-”