He watched it straighten up, the driver making a meal of it, a feeling of dread rising up inside him. The doors opened. Any lingering doubts evaporated as the same two guys climbed out and looked around. One of them pointed to Evan's car and they both smiled, walked up to it and peered through the windows. Did they think he was hiding under a blanket in the back? Then the smaller guy, the one called José, pulled something from his pocket and crouched down by the front tire. Evan caught the glint of sunlight on a blade and watched, mesmerized, as if it wasn't his car that was being casually vandalized, as José pushed the knife through the side wall of the tire. There was no hiss of escaping air, he was too far away, but he had no trouble seeing the tire slowly deflate as José worked the blade free again, the car settling gracefully onto the wheel rim.

José straightened up, snapping the knife shut and pocketing it, as they crossed the street towards the hotel.

Chapter 22

Evan didn't hang around to see what they wanted. He got out of the room lickety-split and ran down the corridor, ignoring the elevators, until he made it to the stairs. There was every chance one of them would be coming up the stairs while the other one took the elevator, so he went up instead of down. Two flights up he stopped and waited, his chest heaving. It couldn't have been more than a minute before he heard one of them come panting up the stairs. He heard the sound of the door opening and as soon as he heard it swing shut again he half ran, half jumped all the way to the bottom.

He crashed through the door into the lobby and skidded across the floor just as it crossed his mind that one of them might have stayed downstairs. That would have been the sensible thing to do. He realized too late that he hadn't heard the elevator. His head twisted round at a noise behind him but it was just an old guy snapping his newspaper as he folded it. Apart from that the lobby was deserted.

He pushed through the front doors, bounded down the steps and ran for his car. He didn't remember about the slashed tire until he was half way there. How the hell could he forget in two minutes? He stood in the middle of the street, unsure which way to go, looking back and forth between his car and the hotel. The blast of a horn made him jump as a taxi swerved past him.

It pulled up outside the hotel and an old woman started to slowly get out. He ran towards it. The woman was waving her stick in front of her trying to get up from the sagging back seat. He was tempted to grab hold of it and haul her out. He looked round, back into the lobby. The elevator had started on its way down again. It didn't mean it was them. Should he wait or should he run off and not waste another second? The old woman had got her feet on the sidewalk and her hand was on the top of the door. She planted her stick on the ground and heaved herself up. She stayed there, teeter-tottering for what felt like forever, before collapsing backwards with a loud shout into the cab again. Her feet flew up and Evan was treated to a view up her skirt, her pantyhose dirty and wrinkled, God knows what horrors lurking further up.

He looked round again. The elevator had stopped on the second floor. He turned back to the old woman and offered her his hand. She grasped it with that old-person grope, the fingers cold and bony, the nails yellow. He pulled her out—a little too harshly from the look of surprise on her face—and led her onto the sidewalk. She nodded her thanks to him and started to dig in her bag for her coin purse. The elevator was still stuck on the second floor.

She found her purse and pulled out a five dollar bill; handed it to the driver. The fare on the meter was eight dollars and change. She squinted at the meter and dug in the purse with those bony fingers again. A solitary dollar bill emerged and was handed over. Evan could see it was the last one; only coins left. Behind him in the lobby the elevator pinged. He watched the doors open, ready to run if it was them. He could see a young couple; both of them looking down at their cell phones, somebody else behind them, but couldn't see who it was.

The young couple seemed oblivious to the fact that the doors had opened, like when they walk down the street texting and expect everybody to move out of their way. They suddenly burst apart, barely even any shock on their preoccupied faces, as an arm was thrust angrily between them and a man forced his way past. It was Juan or José, Evan couldn't remember which one. He turned back to the cab. The driver waited, his arm extended wearily, palm upwards, as the old woman dug coins out, one by one, inspected them carefully before she handed them over.

Evan wanted to kick her in the butt, but made do with pushing her roughly out of the way. She let out a startled squawk as he jumped into the cab and slammed the door shut.

'I'll pay the rest of it,' he shouted. 'Just go.'

The driver stared at him, mouth open, not comprehending what was happening.

'Go,' Evan shouted, as Juan or José burst through the front doors. 'I'll pay her fare.'

It finally clicked with the driver. He shrugged and pulled into the traffic. Behind them, the beaner leapt down the steps and collided with the old woman, spinning her and sending her sprawling. He stepped over her and stood staring at Evan's face in the back window of the disappearing cab, his hands bunched into fists at his sides.

'Damn,' the driver said as Evan turned to face front.

'What?'

'She's got a suitcase in the trunk. I forgot all about it watching her trying to get out.' He laughed at the memory. 'I'll have to turn round and go back.' He started to slow, looking for somewhere to turn.

'No,' Evan shouted, 'you can't.'

The driver gave him an annoyed look in the mirror, like he didn't want to be told what he could and couldn't do in his own cab.

'Just get me a few blocks away from here. Make a couple of turns. Anywhere,' Evan said before he could say anything. 'I'll give you twenty bucks. You can take the suitcase back later.'

The driver was silent for a few beats. Evan watched his eyes in the mirror; saw him thinking back behind his eyes. 'Whatever you say,' he said finally and picked up speed again.

Evan twisted round in his seat and looked behind them but the beaners were nowhere in sight.

Chapter 23

'So what happened?' Chico said when Juan and José came back empty-handed.

'He got away,' Juan said.

'What do you mean got away?'

'His car was outside,' Juan said, inspecting his shoes, deciding that full and frank disclosure wasn’t the way to go at the present time, 'but something must have spooked him.'

Chico's lip curled. 'What, like you playing that narcocorrido crap full blast with all the windows down as you cruised past?' he sneered.

'No, it wasn't like that—'

Chico quietened him with a flick of his fingers and shook his head. 'I didn't really expect him to be there but it was worth a try.'

Ellie sat across the desk from watching the exchange. She was wearing her own clothes which made her feel a lot better. She'd spent the previous night down in the basement and had hardly slept at all which wasn't surprising. It was cold and uncomfortable and she was sharing it with rats and roaches, but it was the stool they'd tied her to and the rope hanging from the rafters that had stopped her getting all nice and snuggly. Things were looking a bit better today; it was good news that Evan had got away. She'd let out a hidden sigh of relief when Juan and José had come back empty-handed. She didn't know what they did to get information out of guys but it didn't take a lot of imagination—just switch balls for breasts. It wasn't as if she cared what they did to Evan if they caught him—it was what he might say that worried her.