'So Dixie's got the money. That's why you want to find him.' He laughed. 'You think he'll give you some of it if you ask nicely?' Thinking back to the display he'd just been given he imagined she could ask very nicely indeed if she had the mind to.

'No, he hasn't got it.'

'I'm getting lost here,' he admitted.

'You underestimate your wife.'

He was glad she called her that, rather than ex-wife which is what it felt like now, although he was starting to wonder what he did feel any more. It certainly seemed like he didn't know the first thing about her.

'How so?'

'She gave Dixie the key but she told him the wrong storage facility. He took her along with him when he went to pick up the money. They were stopped at a traffic signal and she jumped out and got away. He couldn't just leave the car where it was and chase after her. Plus he thought he had the right address so he wasn't too concerned. What was she going to do? Call the cops?'

Evan was impressed. He wouldn't have thought Sarah would have had the presence of mind to give him the wrong address after he'd beaten her up at the least, if not actually tortured her. And then to give him the slip as well. That's my girl. Or was.

'I can see you're impressed,' she said.

He couldn't help grinning. 'I'd never have believed it.'

'It's obvious who wore the pants in your household.'

He thought that was a bit below the belt. He didn't want to take anything away from what Sarah had done but even so . . .

'So what happened next? He had the key.'

Now she grinned. 'He had one of the keys. They give you two. She called me and I went and picked her up. Then we drove to the right facility, picked up the money and moved it to another one. It's easy; they're all over the place.'

'So you've still got the money.'

She nodded. He thought her face might split in two if she grinned any wider.

'What about Sarah?'

The grin melted away. Evan's stomach clenched without permission. He pushed himself off the bed and stood over her. His hand itched to slap her.

'What about Sarah? Where is she now?'

She shook her head, a helpless gesture. He bent down, took hold of her shoulders and shook her, his fingers digging into her flesh.

'I don't know.' She blinked in quick succession. He wondered suddenly if she was going to cry. He'd give her something to cry about if she kept this up much longer. 'She said she'd call me and then ran off.'

He let go of her arms and stood up.

'I'm not surprised after you put Dixie onto her—'

'I didn't put Dixie onto her,' she screamed, 'he found her.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to be found again.' He walked over to the bathroom door; felt like punching a hole through it. 'So you don't actually know where she is.'

'I just told you—she's going to call me.'

'Yeah, right. And even if she does, you won't tell me anything until I've found Dixie for you.'

She shrugged as if to say: that's the way it goes.

'Unless you're going to beat it out of me, of course.' The smugness was back with a vengeance.

She was a little too full of herself for his liking but he was between a rock and a hard place. It was the fact that she knew it that really got his goat.

'Why do you want to find Dixie anyway? I'd have thought he was the last person you wanted to meet.'

The mention of Dixie wiped the smile off her face about as fast as Chico's secateurs would have done, but without it being so much fun. He could feel her get wary, see it in the way she deliberately leaned back into the chair, spread her arms and pretended to be casual.

'I need to come to an . . . arrangement with him.'

'Do a deal, you mean.'

'Yes.' She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. Earnest, you-can-trust-me face. Nitty gritty time. 'I'll split the money with him. In return he leaves me alone. I can't spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.'

'And Sarah.' He raised a questioning eyebrow as if to say: sorry to bring up such a trivial matter.

'Yes, and Sarah.' Her tone of voice implying: what sort of a person do you think I am?

They stared at each other a few beats. Evan felt as if he was being asked to decide on Dixie's behalf whether it was an acceptable proposition or not. He'd not met the guy yet, but as far as he was concerned, he'd have been happy for him to take the lot and give her a swift kick in the cooter for good measure.

'Why are you so worried about him?'

The look on her face suggested she was having a problem believing anybody could be so stupid. He wanted to slap that one off too.

'You were quite happy having the drug dealers after you. Or were you going to do a deal with them? Offer them half of their money back?'

She laughed out loud at that.

'You haven't met Dixie have you? There's a world of difference between a guy like him and a bunch of wetback drug dealers. I was willing to take my chances on them never finding me, him, not so much.'

Evan supposed it made perfect sense but there was one small matter that was giving him a problem.

'And I'm meant to help you in setting up this deal? Breaking I don't know how many laws in the process.'

She shrugged and as much as a shrug can say anything, it said: it's your choice.

'The door's right over there.'

That's what came out of her mouth. What Evan heard was: good luck finding Sarah.

He felt like throwing the glass of water in her face.

Chapter 35

He knew when he was beaten. There'd never really been any doubt that he'd do whatever it took. He wasn't about to just up and walk out, even though it was a very different kettle of fish to when she'd first come to see him. Well, actually it wasn't—it was exactly the same, it was just that he'd been let into the secret now.

He picked his jacket up off the bed and pulled it on. He remembered the other thing he'd wanted to ask her. It felt as if he'd been in the room with her for about three weeks. He got his wallet out again and pulled out the other piece of paper he'd found in her diary.

'What's this about?' he said, holding it out to her.

She took it from him. 'Where'd you get this?'

'Same place as the photo.'

'Remind me to keep everything under lock and key when you're around, will you?'

'Says Little Miss Trustworthy.'

'Anyway, it's not important.'

He shook his head. 'Were you aware that's the answer you give to every question you're ever asked?'

Her eyes narrowed. 'Maybe you shouldn't ask so many questions.'

He started to point out that he wouldn't get very far in his job if he didn't ask lots of questions but she talked over him. It made him feel like he was married again and his next turn to talk wasn't until next week.

'Questions about things that don't concern you.' She put her fists on her hips. It made her look pissed, just like it was meant to, but he wasn't sure if she knew how much it hitched her breasts up and pushed them towards. Body language mixed messages, he thought, and considered reaching out and squeezing one of them playfully with a cheery Parp, Parp.

'Did I ask you to rummage through my personal belongings and interrogate me about everything you find?' she carried on. 'Did I?'

He really didn't know what to say to her. No answer would’ve worked, so he didn’t try one. He just wanted to get away from her.

'No. I didn't think so,' she said in that supercilious tone of voice that took him straight back to when he'd known her years ago.

He took the piece of paper back from her.

'I'll keep it anyway. I'm sure I'll find out the significance at some critical point in the future when I'm being attacked by another couple of Mexican hit men.'