Chapter Two
Four Times the Payoff
The morning was a tranquil one with nothing to distract from the slow steady beat of the waves crashing on the beach. It was moments like these I treasured. Being alone with nothing out of place except for perhaps myself.
I never fit in. At least with the natural elements of this length of shoreline it didn’t seem to matter.
I was accepted anyway and that’s why I liked it the most of all my hidden places to dwell and sojourn in. Straightening back I viewed the work of canvas and oil that lay before me on the easel.
I glanced beyond it to the rising sun making its way over the horizon. I’d worked five mornings in a row on this one and the results had been quite worth it.
In a way I regretted the paintings completion though, because it meant I would have to come up with something else to do, which was hard as few things interested me in life.
I had my job and that was about it. Speaking of which, I looked away from the strengthening sunrise to the cell phone laying on the lip of the easel.
A moment passed by and then it rang, even as I had sensed that it would. I let it ring several times before I reached out and snapped it open, “Speak.” I uttered out monosyllabically.
“We have an important assignment that could lend itself to your excellence in profession. We have a problem in America. A heifer gone astray from the herd so to speak. We want her butchered and it needs to be messy. Interested?”
“Name?” I asked.
“Desirée Adams, the former pop star gone Jesus freak. You know the one I’m sure, as the tabloids have talked of little else. We’ll pay you twice your usual fee. We need her gone and she’s proven quite adept at evading the amateurish attempts of our locals on the ground. What we need now is experience and naturally I thought of you.”
I smirked disdainfully and shaking my head I said, “I want four times the usual.”
Without hesitation the reply came, “Fine, just get it done. Oh and wear the glasses. There are several of us who would like to see.”
Gritting my teeth at the infringement on my privacy that the glasses would offer I barked out, “Where?”
A bit startled the voice on the other end wavered to start for a moment before completing an answer to the question, “Our sources say Detroit. She’ll only be there for a few days most likely and then where she goes is anyone’s best idea. She’s rather hard to track.”
I was on the verge of hanging up when the voice on the other end said, “And oh do make sure to do away with her bodyguard as well. The man has cost us several good agents. He’s old, but he still has some bite to him. We’ve tried to flip him, but no budge. He’s a man rooted in his ways. Speaking of ‘ways’ we expect you to have your way with the woman before you do her in for good. Remember, we’ll be watching.” Cackled the man’s voice in clear anticipation of such a voyageteristic moment.
I’d heard enough. I snapped the phone shut and tossed it into a nearby fireplace where it sizzled electrically within the flames giving off several loud snaps before falling silent. I never used a phone more than once if I could help it.
Getting up I went to the stairs and made my way down them. Stopping at the door I half turned to pick up my bag that sat by the door already packed in preparation.
Reaching forward with my other hand I took my hat from off the hat rack beside the door. Putting it on I undid the locks of the door and opened it and stepped out into the sunny morning that held no warmth for me.
I had a job to do. I killed people and right now this American woman stood between me and the enjoyment of my solitude in this place.
She however would only be a minor disturbance, as once I had her taken care of I would return and spend at least one more month here before I would be forced to move on. Such is the life of a hired killer with masters to avoid, if that were even remotely possible. Somehow they always found me and I had quite despaired of ever finding a place where I would be invisible to them.