In the bathroom he picked a long sliver of glass out of the deepest cut and held his hand under the water until it ran clear. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. But then again, it didn't surprise him. In the mirror his face looked resigned more than angry, as if someone had finally told him something he’d never wanted to hear but had always known was coming. In the end everybody disappointed you, everybody let you down, it was just a matter of how long it took.

We enter the world alone, we leave the world alone.

He could see a vein throbbing in the center of his forehead, smeared with his blood. He put his finger on it and held it down but couldn't find his pulse anywhere. He'd been let down before and it would happen again, but this time it hurt more than he could have imagined. And to think that not more than a few short hours ago, he had wished to himself that Dixie was his son, rather than that . . .

If he had been a weaker man he suspected he would have wept but he hadn't wept since he stood in the desert all those years ago, his father balanced on his shoulders.

Chapter 16

As soon as he'd finished on the phone with Ellie Evan put a call in to Ed Guillory. Guillory was a detective with the local police department and they'd almost become friends after the case that had thrown then together. Since then Guillory had helped Evan out on a number of occasions, probably because he thought Evan was such a nice guy. And—as Evan liked to point out whenever he got the opportunity—Evan's taxes were paying his wages after all.

Unfortunately, it wasn't Guillory who answered the phone; it was his partner, Ryder. Evan and Ryder had got off to a bad start and it had gone rapidly downhill from there. Their mutual animosity was a constant source of amusement to Guillory.

'How's the diet going, E-Z?' Evan said when Ryder picked up. Evan knew they were never going to have a good relationship, so he may as well have a bit of sport with the guy.

'Up yours, Buckley,' Ryder responded with all his usual ill-humor. 'And don't call me that. Friends, colleagues and all the other normal human beings I meet call me that. Last time I checked, you didn't fit into any of those categories.'

'Is your boss there?' He knew it wound him up when he said that.

'You mean the lieutenant? No, he's not here.' Before Evan could think of anything else to say, he carried on. 'And if you meant Guillory, he's not here either. So you're going to have to look elsewhere for all the free help and information that you're not entitled to.'

The phone went dead in his ear. He called Guillory on his cell phone.

'I thought I told you to burn this number,' Guillory said in his laid back tone. He was the most unflappable guy Evan had ever met despite some of the patience-trying antics Evan had got up to in the past.

'Having a nice, relaxing day at home while poor old Detective Donut looks after the shop?'

Guillory laughed. 'Something like that. And I told you, don't call him that. It's disrespectful.'

'So, what's happening? You break a leg?'

Guillory snorted, the sound loud in Evan's ear. 'I'll tell you later. What d'you want?'

'I was just calling to see if I can buy you a beer some time.'

'No you weren't.' Guillory laughed again. 'And I've told you this before as well, if I drank all the beers you owe me, I'd be fatter than Ryder.'

Evan laughed with him. 'Yeah, I asked him about his diet.'

On the other end of the line Guillory sucked in air between his teeth. Evan pictured him shaking his head, the hint of a smile on his lips. 'I bet that didn't get you far.'

'Funny you should say that . . .'

'Anyway, what do you want?'

Evan could hear the sound of a spoon stirring something, coffee or tea, and then a metallic rattle as it was thrown in the sink. He could do with a good strong coffee himself, right now.

'I could do with a nice cup of coffee myself.'

There was a loud slurp followed by a long aaaaaah. 'Sorry, that was the last of it.'

'Some free information, then, hopefully stuff I'm not allowed to have. You know the sort of thing.'

Evan could almost feel Guillory's sideways grin coming down the line. 'The usual, you mean. What is it this time?'

Evan gave him the license plate of the two guys' car and asked him to find out who it was registered to.

'Is that it?' There was genuine astonishment in his voice. 'That's hardly going to be an inconvenience at all.'

'Well . . . there is something else.'

'That's more like it.' There was another loud slurp. 'Good coffee, by the way.'

'I can hear you're enjoying it. It sounds like a pack of thirsty bloodhounds. Anyway, have you ever come across a guy called Dixie?'

'Dixie? I know a country music band called the Dixie Chicks . . .'

'Well, that's useful. His real name's Richard LaBarre—'

'But everyone calls him Dixie.'

'Damn. I can see now why you're a professional detective and I'm just an amateur.'

Guillory let out a hoot like he'd just won the lottery. 'Ryder would give his right arm to hear you say that.'

'Ain't gonna happen.'

'Anything else you can tell me about this guy, maybe help to narrow things down a bit?'

'I was told he hangs out at Kelly's Tavern—although everyone in there denies ever having heard of him.'

Guillory snorted in disgust. 'The low-lifes in that pigsty wouldn't admit to knowing their own mothers.'

'You got that right.'

'You actually went in there and asked for him?'

Evan shrugged, an apologetic smile on his lips, even though Guillory couldn't see him. 'No point in beating about the bush.'

'You never cease to amaze me.' In his mind Evan pictured the slow head shake. 'So how did that pan out?'

'I thought it went pretty well, considering it was my first time.' He ran the morning's events through his mind, felt and heard the satisfying snap. 'I broke a guy's finger and squashed his nose a bit, then got chased and pistol whipped by a couple of beaners. Just a normal day at Kelly's I suppose—the beer was awful though.'

'You know I'm going to be genuinely upset the day I get called out to some bloody, broken body lying crumpled in an alley and turn it over and see your stupid face looking up at me. Probably with that stupid grin still on your face.'

Evan knew he meant it too. Knew he honestly believed it was going to happen some day. 'You don't need to worry about me.'

Guillory knew there was no point wasting any more breath on that subject. 'Anyway, would these guys happen to own the car we're talking about?'

'Uh huh. No flies on you.'

There was an exasperated, why do I even bother? sigh. 'Why do you want to find them? You like being pistol whipped?'

Evan thought about telling Guillory the real, underlying reason that was driving him. Guillory knew his history after all, knew all about Sarah. He just didn't want to get into it over the phone. He also didn't want him to tell him not to be so gullible.

'I'll let you know right after you finish telling me why you're not at work.'

'Like you taxpayers pay me to be, you mean?'

'Well, I wasn't going to mention it . . .'

They carried on the inane banter for a while longer before Guillory ended the call, promising to get back to him as soon as possible.

Chapter 17

Jackson sat in the warden's office and stared at a dirty stain on the wall while the warden droned on. Blah, blah, blah, pom tiddly pom. He cocked his head and tried to work out what it was. And why hadn't it been cleaned off? Another five minutes of this and he'd be out. After two years he could wait a few more minutes. Behind the warden, a clock ticked noisily, its hands jerking erratically like a cockroach that some small boy had pulled most of the legs off. Then it clicked. That's what it was—the warden had squashed a cockroach or a water beetle against the wall. Next to that there was a rectangular outline where something had been tacked to the wall. Jackson just knew it was one of those cheesy, motivational posters with a bear or an eagle (never a cockroach) that said something like Believe in Yourself: Because the rest of us think you're an idiot or perhaps Ambition: The journey of a thousand miles sometimes ends very, very badly. He stretched his neck out and glanced at the clock again. He didn't think he'd be able to wear a wristwatch or hang a clock on the wall ever again.