“Did the guy say anything before y’all got in the scuffle?” I narrowed my eyes at Coy. “Think hard.”
Coy raked a hand over his hair. “It’s all fuzzy. Something about it not being too late. That the deal wasn’t done, and he’d keep his mouth shut. That’s when he tried to back off.” He shook his head, eyes hollow. “None of it made sense.”
A deal? It sounded as if Seeger thought Judd and Coy had been sent to make sure he kept his mouth shut about it. That part matched up with his paranoia at the movie premiere, but what kind of deal had he cooked up that could possibly warrant sending thugs after him? And who was it with? Saberton? Andrew said Seeger wanted to meet with him in reference to a deal, but Seeger had died before they had the chance to do so. The files marked with double asterisks had been for a deal with “SASA.” Was that an acronym for a Saberton branch, or was there another player in the game? And did the mysterious deal have anything to do with the video files and real zombies?
“Did you take anything off him?” I demanded.
“Judd went through his pockets. Took a couple hundred dollars from his wallet and his keys ’cause there was cocaine in a pill holder on the ring. That’s it.”
And I bet the USB flash drive and its zombie files happened to be on that key ring.
“I’m done,” I said. “This has been a messed-up day, so I’m going to leave you two upstanding citizens now with this piece of Angel advice: Both of you, do the smart thing and turn yourselves in before it’s too late.” I started toward my car then paused and met Randy’s eyes. “Grayson Seeger is dead. Do the right thing. For everyone. You’re better than this.”
I opened the door and slid behind the wheel. Coy stumbled toward me, hand outstretched. “Angel, wait! What are you gonna do?”
“Not a damn thing. If you grow a goddamn pair by morning. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.” I slammed the door and did my best to pepper them with gravel as I sped out. I didn’t know yet exactly how I’d expose them. But, if they turned themselves in, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Headlights washed over me as I pulled out of the driveway. I slammed on my brakes as a pickup swerved and screeched to a stop in a half-ass diagonal to block a good chunk of the road. Pulse thrumming, I jerked the gun from my waistband and held it in my lap.
Judd flung his door open and scrambled to stand in the beam of my headlights, red-faced and with his hands fisted by his sides. “Get out of the goddamn car!”
I shot him the finger. He took a step closer.
I bared my teeth and stomped on the gas. He yelled a curse as he dove out of the way, and I raced around his truck, wheels skimming the edge of the ditch. Asshole. I kept half an eye on my rear view mirror, waiting for the flash of headlights that signaled his pursuit. I finally slowed as I reached the highway with no sign of him chasing me, and I let my breathing slow as well. After a moment of hesitation, I returned the gun to the glove box. They had no reason to come after me. After all, I hadn’t taken any of the evidence, and it was my word against theirs. At least that’s how I figured they’d see it. Besides, they had no reason to doubt that I’d shared the murder info with someone else. And that could definitely fry their asses.
Before I could forget, I pulled over and sent an “all clear” to Brian and Dr. Nikas. By morning I’d know whether Randy, Coy, and Judd had decided to turn themselves in or hide all the evidence and hope for the best.
And if they chose the second option, I fully intended to be their worst nightmare.
Chapter 19
It was almost nine a.m. by the time I dragged my sorry ass out of bed after lousy nightmare-filled sleep. Bleary-eyed, I shuffled out to the kitchen. No sign of my dad, but the coffee in the pot was still warm enough to drink without being gross. Good enough for me. Why was coffee great hot or over ice, but disgusting at room temperature? “A mystery for the ages,” I murmured as I poured a mugful and added milk. That essential task taken care of, I settled at my desk and fired up my computer. It wasn’t much better than Judd’s, but it got me online and did the email, word processing, and web-stuff that I needed for my classes.
The cobwebs in my brain melted away beneath the onslaught of caffeine, and it only took me a few minutes to scan the local news sites and discover a complete lack of stories about murder suspects turning themselves in. Surely the sheriff’s office would have released a statement if they had a big break like that? Or maybe the guys had decided to wait until morning before going to the cops, start the day off right.
Yeah. Sure. I wanted to be optimistic and have faith that all three would make the best available choice. But the reality was that Judd and Coy were going to end up in jail, and very possibly Randy as well. Didn’t matter that they had a better chance of getting less jail time by turning themselves in. Judd was more prone to skip town, in my opinion, though Coy would do whatever Randy decided. Problem was, Randy always went for the road that seemed easiest but never looked ahead to see the mountains.
Hell, I’d been just like that before I became a zombie. Still was, in a few ways, as galling as it was to admit. That’s how I got myself into the mess with the V12. The zombie parasite was a magic cure for all sorts of physical ailments, but it couldn’t fix Stupid. Or Denial.
Or Addiction.
I was an addict. I would always have that mountain in my path. But, goddammit, I intended to keep my eyes on it from here on out.
Randy’s cell phone went straight to voicemail when I called, as did Coy’s. There were any number of reasons for that. Their phones might be off because they’d been arrested. Frowning, I pushed up from the desk and refilled my mug, then brought up Judd’s number. I didn’t want to talk to him, but chances were good he was with the other two, and any information was better than none.
Nope, voicemail.
Or they might have ditched the phones and skipped town.
It was an unpleasant thought, but I had to accept it might be true. I returned to my room and took a dose and a pill, then a boiling hot shower to chase the rest of the cobwebs from my head. Clean and dry, I dressed in jeans, light sweater and boots. Though I intended to make it to the Zombie Fest once more, I couldn’t get into the spirit of costuming again. Besides, I wanted to look normal today. Well, as normal as I could manage. I ate a brain burrito, then started in on a second one. Though my brain-hunger clamored for me to eat all of it, my stomach couldn’t hold another bite. With a sigh, I re-wrapped the half burrito and tossed it into the fridge. At least I had packets in the car console for later.
Heading out, I stopped at the first XpressMart with a working payphone and called the information number for the jail. No sense using my own phone and potentially drawing attention. The deputy who answered was terse and not very polite, but he informed me that none of the three men had been booked in the last twenty-four hours.
Not a good sign.
I went to Randy’s place next, and my heart lifted at the sight of Coy’s battered Chevy Blazer next to Randy’s Charger. Good. They were just ducking my calls. I could handle that.
But the trailer was silent, even after I banged on the door and shouted for them. Okay, so either Randy and Coy were staying quiet and hoping I’d go away, or . . .