Wolf at the Door

chapter Nine



“You did what?”

“Don’t talk like I’ve gone insane. I had to dump the body.”

“Ah . . . insane? Don’t be silly. Body dumping sounds very sane to me.”

“You’ve got that tone again. What, you think I’m gonna be dim enough to drive around with a dead body in my trunk?”

“But surely—the other one—”

“Yeah, well, I gotta step it up, okay? Nobody noticed the other one. At this point, I don’t care who goes up in flames, you got me? It can be any one of you . . . doesn’t matter who. It’ll still solve all my problems.”

“All of them, eh?” She would believe that when she saw it. “We agreed this needs to go away.”

“We sure did. And this is how it’s gonna happen. Quit acting like I enjoy this shit; you know I don’t. So are you gonna help, or are you gonna create more problems for us?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, followed by what might have been a sigh . . . of frustration or sorrow or fury, he didn’t know. She wasn’t close enough for him to see it.

He supposed he had some sympathy for her. A little. On the other hand, she was hardly lily-white on this whole thing. He firmly believed there was no such thing as a victim.

He also believed no one was innocent. Not past the age of five, anyway.

Another sigh, followed by, “All right. Yes.”

Then she helped him, as he knew she would. Poor dumb bitch . . . didn’t she know the first thing the bad guys always did was get rid of the assassin?

Not his problem.

Whistling, he headed back to his rental car, twirling the key ring around on his index finger and wondering how soon he’d have to kill the next one.

She was wrong. He didn’t enjoy this.

He didn’t.