Page 35 of Tell No One
“Elane?”
“You’re annoying me.”
“Ney? Laney? De?”
When he didn’t answer, Tag said, “Delaney.”
“Finally. I thought you were sharper than that.”
“I’m going to get you to tell me your real name.”
“Not going to happen.”
“It will.”
“I can’t trust you with my real name.”
That hurt, but Tag didn’t show it. He just shrugged. “So, are you like my personal bodyguard now?”
Delaney shot him an incredulous glance.
“Well, you are, aren’t you? I mean I’m not safe out on the streets. The pony crew might be looking for me. You said that. I might blab. Not because I wanted to but…”
“And how would they find you?”
Tag thought about it. “If I use my debit card, maybe they have a way of tracing me.”
“Only to the point where you used the card, assuming they have that capability. Though if you used the card in a supermarket, they might think you’d go back there, so they could keep an eye on the place. Any other ideas?”
“I paid for the hostel with my debit card. I used it to buy stuff yesterday. I didn’t buy a ticket to York, though I might have used cash. Hostels shouldn’t give out the names of people who are staying there but they might to the police, or to people pretending to be the police. Maybe one of the guests at Harborne House was a policeman. Was that what you were there for? To find out who everyone was, even though they were wearing masks? If they think I’ve done whatever it was that you did, checked their files, looked on their computers or whatever, then how far would they go to find me? Do I need to go into witness protection?” Tag was only half-joking.
Delaney gave a heavy sigh. “Do you ever shut up?”
Tag pressed his lips together. But he was right. Maybe Delaney worked for MI5, or some other government agency. Maybe he was a bad guy.But he’s taking me home.Which made Tag think he wasn’t going to get killed by Delaney, at least. Not yet anyway.
“Have you ever shot anyone?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Shit.“Killed them?”
“Yes.”
“On purpose?”
“When they didn’t shut up.”
Tag didn’t mean to fall asleep. He meant to watch the route they were taking, so that if he needed to run, he knew which way to go, but he woke with a jolt when the roof of the car came down over his head. They were parked at the side of an ordinary-looking, stone-built detached house. There were fields ahead and to the sides but no other houses that he could see. When Delaney got out of the car, Tag got out too and, clutching his backpack, followed him to the back door. He took in the small collection of debris caught up in a spider’s web in the door crack, and knew it hadn’t been opened for some time.
As they went in, Delaney disabled a burglar alarm with his back to Tag, hiding what he was doing.
“When were you last here?” Tag asked. A sort of test really, though he suspected he was going to get lied to over and over by a guy who wouldn’t even trust him with his name.
“A month ago.”
Oh.Maybe that wasn’t a lie.
They walked into a modern kitchen with blue units and a grey tiled floor. The place smelt a bit fusty but it was tidy. No plates in the sink, no piles of post or newspapers, no clothes slung over chair backs. Delaney unbolted and unlocked French doors at the rear that led out onto a deck with a table and chairs, and pushed them open. The living area was connected to the kitchen. There were two large blue couches, a coffee table and a TV attached to the wall. A shelving unit to the left of the TV held row after row of books, mostly paperbacks.
