Chapter 18
Don’t worry, I can get you on the naughty list.
“We need to tell Scout,” Sarah said over the phone.
Hudson frowned as he drove down the two-lane highway. He’d managed to plant a tracker on the unknown man’s truck. Once they’d been on the lookout for him, the guy who’d been doing his best to avoid cameras from yesterday, all they’d had to do was tag him when he’d parked.
So Sarah had set up a couple extra cameras in the parking lot at the festival and they’d seen when he’d arrived. Sometimes the easiest option was right in front of you.
“Kinda busy,” he muttered. After they’d found Nathan, Hudson had snuck away once they’d returned to the farm.
It had been easy enough with the sheriff wanting to talk to Scout and the kid’s mom dissolving in tears. Not that he was judging. Today could have ended terribly.
But the unknown man—who Hudson thought might be hitman adjacent—had been out in those woods near that kid. Then he’d disappeared once Scout and Hudson had arrived.
None of that mattered because he knew where the guy was staying. A motel one town over.
Or at least the tracker was there right now.
“So? You’ve got another ten minutes of driving,” Sarah said.
“What’s going on at the farm? Cops cleared out yet?”
“Yeah, things have mostly died down. Everyone is happy the kid was found. Sounds like the local news might pick up the story so you were right to leave regardless.”
“We’ll have to let Scout know that neither of us are interested in talking to a reporter.”
“Already did.”
“Where is Scout right now? And where are you?”
“I’m at the cottage and she’s currently at her place taking a shower. Bet you wish you were there with her.”
She wasn’t wrong. The pull he felt toward Scout was unlike anything he’d experienced and something told him he never would again. Especially not after he’d been inside her. There was no going back after that. Not for him. “Anything else out of the ordinary happen since I left?”
“Oh, so you’re just ignoring me now. Got it. And no. Once the kid was saved, things shut down pretty quickly and people cleared out. I bet it’s even busier tomorrow though.”
Yeah, he had no doubt. It would be good for Scout’s farm and bottom line, that much he knew. This festival brought in a decent amount of money for her.
“Hey, Lorna’s calling. I’m patching her through,” he said when Lorna’s name popped up on-screen.
None of the others had come today for security except Ace and Silas.
They were solid and knew how to blend in most situations.
They’d kept a low profile and stayed out of the way of the cops once they’d arrived on scene. “You’re on with me and Sarah.”
“Good.” Lorna’s voice was sharp. “Just found something you’re not going to like. There’s a contract on Scout. A small, bullshit one, but I just discovered it. Been up for a couple weeks.”
“On our forum?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. He wasn’t taking any jobs right now, but he checked the boards regularly and hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
“Hell no. On some bullshit forum. No one’s picked it up yet.”
“Can you trace the origin?” If it was posted on their normal forum, he doubted it could be traced. They had checks and balances in place for a reason.
“Not sure yet. Got Elli working on it. She says she likes the challenge.”
The woman was brilliant, so if anyone could figure out who wanted Scout dead, it was her. “How much is it for?” he asked.
“Ten.”
He paused for a moment as he digested the number. “Thousand?” He wanted to clarify.
“Yep. Like I said, bullshit.”
Real contracts were never less than six figures. No wonder no one had picked it up. “Claim it using one of my aliases so it’s not live anymore.”
“Already did.” She sounded offended that he’d had the audacity to ask.
“Thank you.” He could see the glowing sign of the motel up ahead in the distance. Would this guy have been doing recon on Scout while deciding whether to take the contract for a measly ten thousand?
“Of course. I’m sending you the details, but there aren’t many.”
“This is so bizarre,” he muttered. Ten thousand to kill a farmer? Sure, her land was worth a lot, but the Willman family had money. Old money.
Hudson had looked into it.
“You’re telling me. Anyway, wanted to let you know. Think you guys’ll be back in time for the Christmas Eve party?”
“Doubt it,” he said.
“We’ll see,” was Sarah’s response.
“I’ve got the motel in sight. I’m going dark.” He ended the call before either of them could respond.
Instead of pulling into the parking lot, he parked next door. There was an ice cream shop that was packed with families, so he parked between two SUVs with little stick family stickers on the back and scanned the motel parking lot.
There were a decent amount of vehicles, but he spotted the truck he’d tagged so he knew the guy was here. Normally he’d pay off the person at the front desk, but he didn’t want anyone to see him tonight.
He’d even borrowed Sarah’s vehicle—with a fake license plate on it that wouldn’t be traced back to her.
He slipped on an ugly green and cream Christmas sweater that wasn’t memorable—just hideous—and a beige and brown toque.
It was cold enough to be wearing one and better than a ball cap to hide his hair and ears.
He’d likely have to wipe the security cameras after this, but he’d deal with that later.
There was a balance to blending in and you couldn’t look too bland or too flashy.
Unless you were in full-on disguise with a wig and theater makeup.
Then you could go flashy. People would remember your character, but if you did your job right, they wouldn’t know who you were.
As he stepped out of the vehicle, the gods must have been shining down on him because the man he’d been looking for stepped out of his room, locked his door and made his way down to the first floor.
Using the vehicles to block him, Hudson stayed out of sight and watched as the man headed across the street to an Applebee’s.
All right, then.
He knew which room the guy was in. Now he just needed to get into a neighboring one.
***
Hudson had found three small traps in the motel room, avoided them all. None dangerous, just typical things added to a room to alert someone if their room had been infiltrated. He hadn’t found any cameras, so the guy wasn’t watching his place that way.
Though he was probably keeping an eye on his room from a window in the restaurant across the street.
Which was why Hudson had rented a room two down from the suspected hitman since a little casual talk with the man running the front desk had let him know that there were two empty rooms next to this one.
He’d made a big deal about needing sleep, so the guy had been chatty, told him there was one room with no neighbors on either side still open.
From there it had been easy enough to use the adjoining doors to break into the stranger’s motel room.
He hadn’t touched much as he waited. For a moment he’d thought about waiting behind the door but that was a good way to get shot or into a fight.
And he just wanted to chat with the guy.
Mostly.
So he was in the closet with his weapon, waiting.
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Hudson heard the deadbolt sliding into place. Then the chain, even though those things were mostly useless. Still made noise if someone was trying to break in though.
He waited until he heard a sigh, then the bed creak. He stepped out of the closet, pistol raised.
The man’s expression barely changed, but Hudson saw the annoyance. Maybe with himself for letting someone get the drop on him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “All right, do it then. I deserve it for being this sloppy.”
Hudson kept his weapon up and stayed back far enough that if the guy tried to make a move, it wouldn’t matter. “Hands up. And stay exactly where you are.”
The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, one boot off, sock and the other boot still on. He raised his hands, his expression a combination of emotions now. “I don’t want to hear your monologue. Just shoot me and be done with it.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“No, but I’m sure you know who I am, and I’m sure I deserve this. But I don’t need the backstory. Just kill me.”
Hudson bit back a snicker. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to kill this guy. “What were you doing at the winter festival?”
The man eyed him with more curiosity now. “Same thing you were, I imagine.”
“I seriously doubt that.” He just watched him, the outside sound of cars driving by and some of their motel neighbors loud enough to hear, but not distracting. Just background noise.
The man sighed again, lifted his palms up slightly. “Fine. You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. I didn’t like the contract on the llama farmer, so I was checking things out.”
Wait…what? “You didn’t like the contract?”
“Nope. It’s bush-league shit. Gives us all a bad name.”
Okay, so he was definitely a hitter. “That’s not why you’re here.”
“It is why I’m here. I don’t like the contract.
” He shrugged, which looked awkward with his hands still up in the air.
“And fine, I wanted to see if someone was screwing with the woman. I looked her up when I saw the contract. She seems nice and… She’s just living her life, taking care of her animals.
I wanted to see what type of person she was. ”
This was not going the way he’d imagined. “And?”
“And she’s the type of person who puts on winter festivals for her town and helps find missing kids.”
“Do you often do this?” Hudson asked.
“Do what?”
“Look out for innocent people on hit lists.”
The guy paused, then did that awkward shrug again. “Yeah, I fucking do. Karma’s gotta balance out somehow.” His accent was slightly northern, with hints of Boston. Could be part of his cover though. “How’d you pick me out anyway?”
Hudson thought about not telling him, but shrugged. “Among other things, your sneakers.”
The guy grinned. “It’s always the little stuff. So, you gonna shoot me or what?”
“I haven’t decided.” With his free hand, he tapped his earpiece to call Sarah. “What’s your code name?” he asked.
The guy definitely didn’t want to answer.
“It’s either tell, me or I kill you now.”
“Black Jack.”
“Can you look up Black Jack?” Hudson briefly recapped why the guy had said he was in town.
“I’m pulling Lorna in with me to look him up,” Sarah murmured.
They were silent as they worked in the background. He remained in place, weapon trained on Black Jack.
The other man kept his hands up, his expression neutral until he said, “So the woman with you? The one who looks like a hot mom. Had her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Was wearing tight jeans that showed off a great ass, and a flannel shirt with the shiny belt bag. She single? Because I know she’s one of us.
I’ve seen her before but can’t place the job.
God, she’s hot. I’d let her sit on my face…
I bet she’s always got snacks in her purse too. ”
He stared at the guy. Sarah was in her fifties or sixties, he wasn’t sure, even if she looked like she was a hot mom in her forties.
She really was fit. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” To be fair, Sarah usually did have snacks in her purse or the belt bag things she liked to wear, but not because she was a mom or whatever weird fantasy this guy had.
The man shrugged. “Don’t shame me for having a type.”
Hudson didn’t respond.
“Hot mom, huh? I’d definitely sit on his face,” Sarah murmured and he swore he could hear the smile in her voice. “And if he’s who he says he is, this definitely isn’t his type of contract. He tends to work in the UK and up north and for a lot more money. He might be telling the truth.”
That was the vibe Hudson was getting too, though it was impossible to know for sure. And he’d been wrong about letting Hank and Lane go free. He couldn’t get this one wrong too.
“The llama farmer is protected,” he finally said.
“Yeah, I’m getting that vibe.” His tone was dry.
“You check out,” he continued to the man. “So leave town and never come back.”
The man nodded. “I’ll leave right now… Think you can pass on my information to your friend?”
Hudson simply sighed, then left through the connecting door. The guy either chased after him with a weapon, came after him later, or really did leave town. He’d find out soon enough.
Then he was getting back to Scout.