Otherwise Unharmed (Evan Arden 3) - Page 91

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled.

He laughed again.

“So she does mean something to you? You got a funny way of showing it.”

“Answer the fucking question. How much is the contract worth?”

“Fifteen,” he told me. “Moretti must think she’s going to be an easy one to get.”

I wasn’t sure if I was more insulted that my girl’s price was so low or more thrilled that it wasn’t the kind of price that would attract hunters from out of town. Ultimately, I was glad there wouldn’t be too many others looking for her. I would probably be able to come up with the complete list of Chicago-based contract killers within a couple hours. I knew most of them already. We migh

t not have afternoon tea together, but we were still well aware of each other’s activities.

I wondered if my reputation alone would keep some of them away but decided it would actually work against me. There were definitely those who would consider a feather like that in their hats to be a drop on me even if Lia was a relatively easy target on her own.

I needed to get back to her.

“Thanks,” I muttered as I stood, downed my scotch, and began to move away.

“You make sure you get me the where long before the time comes. You got that, Arden?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I was extra cautious on the way home. I took a much longer route and watched my back constantly. At one point on the L, I knew there was someone in dark clothing who had stepped on just as I had on the last two stops, and I tried to get a glimpse of him in the car. I couldn’t find anyone and considered that it might be my paranoia acting up again, but Lia wasn’t worth the risk.

I jumped out at the next stop and hung around outside the train for a while. I saw the same guy again—long dark jacket that was too heavy for the season and a hoodie pulled up over his head. I stepped onto the next train, watched him carefully as he did the same, and then I jumped off before the train started to move.

He was waiting for it and stepped off as well.

Well, that confirms that.

I wasn’t going to fuck around with him, either—not when Lia was my biggest concern. I walked out of the station and toward the alley nearby. I could hear the footsteps behind me—at this point he had to know I was on to him—and they were getting closer. I moved quickly over the puddles and junk on the blacktop, around a group of dumpsters, and into a doorway leading to the back entrance of an apartment building. I went up a half flight of stairs, checked that there was no one on the stairwell, turned, and waited.

He was inside just a moment after I turned, and I didn’t give a shit if it was paranoia or not. I pulled out my Beretta and fired.

My ears rang from the deafening blast as it echoed around in the stairwell. At the base of the stairs, the guy was struggling slightly, but there was no way he was ever going to get up again. The blast left a huge hole in his back, and there wouldn’t be any fixing that. Still, I moved back down the stairs and flipped him over with my boot.

I knew him.

Arthur Douglass was a small-time, independent contract killer. He wasn’t very good at it, tended to leave a mess and a lot of evidence. Though it hadn’t been enough to get caught, he still generally annoyed people who hired him. He’d obviously gone a little rogue, given the tattered jacket and hoodie. Maybe it was his idea of a disguise—I didn’t know and didn’t care.

“You’re an idiot,” I told him before I put another bullet in his head.

With my ears still ringing, I made my way back to the L and started all over again.

*****

“Will you at least tell me why I’m packing?”

Lia was understandably ticked off. I was giving her a lot of orders but not a lot of reasons why she needed to pack a bag immediately so I could move her to another location. Once I blew up at her completely, she realized how serious I was and started doing what I said, but she was still pissed.

I couldn’t really blame her, but I also didn’t want to scare the shit out of her. Telling her there was now a price on her head wasn’t going to give her any warm, fuzzy feelings.

“You’re packing because you are going to spend a few days away from here,” I said.

“Cryptic much?”

I went to the balcony and looked down below for anyone unusual hanging about. The only person I saw below was the bitchy old woman with the obviously pregnant dog out in the green space. It was probably about time for the pups to be born, and I wondered briefly how much cash it was going to cost me.

Tags: Shay Savage Evan Arden Suspense
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