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What had happened to Evan? What had he become? He’d always been reckless and too hard. But this took things to a new level. Maybe it was prison. Maybe it was desperation. Something had turned Evan into the kind of man who could decide a stranger needed to die and then kill him.
Jesus.
And the call! Why had he made the call from the diner? Why make it at all? To impress Debbie, to show his independence? Why call Richard for that?
Wait a minute. More important than why was how. In order to make the call, he would have needed the phone number. Da
Which meant that after the first call two days ago, Evan had taken the trouble not only to remember the number, but to write it down. Not exactly brain surgery. But also not the kind of thing Evan did. Unless he’d already been pla
Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him. But it did.
In front of him, traffic slowed, a sea of brake lights. Everyday people trying to get home. At this rate it would take him twenty minutes to make ten blocks.
He swerved over to the shoulder, ignoring the honking, and jammed his foot to the accelerator, half on, half off the road. Cars blurred by. Farther down the shoulder became parking, so he turned into a diner, slowed enough to engage the four-wheel drive, and then rolled right over the grassy embankment separating it from the southbound street. It was a quiet road that took him six blocks before dead-ending in one of the small parks that dotted Chicago. He didn’t even slow down, just took the curb at speed, the wheels jamming into it before catching, jerking him forward till the seat belt bit. Two black teenagers sharing a cigarette on top of the playground equipment spun to watch him, their mouths open, but it didn’t matter, because on the other side of the park lay Pike Street, just down from the site.
He was ru
Evan sat on the cinder-block steps of the trailer, a cigarette in one hand. He rose, his shoulders back, and flicked the half-finished smoke to one side. “Hey, partner.”
Da
Evan stepped away, breath coming hard, blood trickling from his nostrils. For a moment they eyed each other, glares hard, and then Evan gave a little laugh. “So the dumb cooze found you, huh?” He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his right hand in a childish gesture. “Thought she might. I figured that whole thing about a shower was bullshit.”
Da
“Yeah, well, I’m not going back to Stateville over some fat-ass citizen.”
Da
“It was a stupid move.”
“Why?” Evan sneered. “Because it wasn’t part of your plan? I got news for you, Da
Da
The remark seemed to please Evan, like it had been a compliment. Like he hadn’t understood the real message. “About time.” He lowered his fists, then reached into his jacket to fumble for his cigarettes.
“Evan. This changes things.” He straightened his back, feeling the vertebrae pop, each of them a sharp twinge. “We need to rethink.”
“Nothing,” Evan paused, lit a smoke, blew a thin stream of gray, “changes.”
“We’re talking murder. The police are going to be looking for you.”
Evan shrugged. “So what? Tomorrow we’ll have a million bucks.”
Could he really be so cold about it?
You know the answer to that one, kid. You learned it the hard way. Don’t ever forget it again.
Still. “I know you don’t like to think about it this way, but hear me out. The smart play is for you to leave tonight. You killed this guy in a parking lot, right? You know how much evidence you probably left? Fingerprints, footprints, tire tracks, his blood, your blood. This isn’t a pawnshop we’re knocking over, man. You stick around, they will find you. And if we’re sitting on the kid at the same time, we’ll both go down. Maybe for good.”
Evan stared at him, a sneer on his face. “Ahh, Da
Da
Evan had a hand on the door. He stopped and turned around with exaggerated patience. “I want to show you something.”
Every nerve in Da
He pictured Karen. If something went wrong now, she’d never know the truth.
Evan held the door wider and smiled. “After you.”
On the other hand, it could be nothing. If he wanted to get out of this, to see Karen again, to try and find a happy solution, he didn’t have much choice. His bruised face throbbing with every beat of his heart, Da
The television lit the interior in flickering shades of blue and white. Cardboard packages from microwave di
“You taped him?” Da