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Worried for me? Or h
er?
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."
