CHAPTER TWO
It was thirty minutes before dawn, so time was running out.
Torin stood in the shadow of the old building, waiting.
The subject was approaching, and Torin's patient calculation was about to pay off.
He'd surveilled this man for the past week and knew his habits and schedule.
This was his opening: solitude, darkness, and the ease of approach, all coming together for success.
The man moved past him, and in a move composed of speed and silence, Torin locked his arm around the man's neck, slit his throat, and plunged the dagger through his heart to the hilt and twisted. He held him for several seconds as death took over and then let him drop to the marble floor.
Torin tapped his fingers, and what some refer to as dust of the Shadow Demon, scattered over the body of the dead man, and he promptly disappeared.
It wasn't dust; it was dark magic, not evil dark magic, but rather ancient, unforgiving dark magic.
There was a difference: one was bought, and the other was inherited over many generations.
He was wiping the blood from his hands when his phone vibrated. He checked it and answered. Killian only called when he had a job for him, and Torin was always in the market for another assignment.
***
It was a shocker, but on Friday, as Shae was finishing with his last client, Margaret cornered him in the breakroom and asked him to work Saturday at the event at the Massey Estate.
"Did someone cancel on you?" Shae assumed this because of the late notice. Margaret looked sheepish when she responded with a curt nod. "The hours and tips are good. You don't have to arrive until evening. You will be scheduled for a full-body massage at nine."
“That seems rather late.”
"The event doesn't end until eleven, and you will not be alone; other staff will be present as well." Margaret was talking fast, which was usually an indicator that she was not telling you everything.
“So, you don’t want me there until nine at night?”
"Arrive by eight so you can get in, set up, and be ready for Mr. Massey at nine."
“Mr. Jarod Massey?”
"Yes, and whatever you do, do not screw this up for me. Give him exactly what he wants, do not question him, and do not pretend to know what he wants." She paused, and Shae could hear her breath coming in quick pants.
"Maybe I'm not the one to be doing this, Margaret. Get someone else." Shae did not like the sound of this at all. He didn't know Massey, but he knew of him, and although he had curated a kind and generous reputation throughout Pittsburgh, some things didn't always add up.
Too many people died or disappeared around Mr. Jarod Massey. Shae did not want to get on the wrong side of someone with Jarod Massey's power and influence. "I'm going to decline Margaret. Get someone else."
She was getting flustered and insistent. "If I had someone else, I would call them, but I don't." She blurted. "He asked to see pictures of my male staff, and he chose you. He will not accept anyone else. He could ruin me, Shae. Please don't let me down."
"Well fuck." He groaned. He couldn't let her down. Margaret was difficult and unpleasant most of the time, but he owed her. She hired him with no experience and kept him even as the complaints piled up. "What if I make him angry?"
"Don't make him angry, Shae." Her words were cold and flat, and they hit hard.
“Okay.”
"Okay, be there at eight, ring the front gate, give them your name, and they will let you in." Shae felt a tightening in his gut but tried to focus on the positive exposure and the tip he'd get if he did a good job.
Massey had a lot of connections. It was a long shot, but he could still get some referrals. No amount of self-talk was making this feel any better, so he decided to not think about it. Just go there, do it, and leave; that's all that was expected.
Come Saturday morning, his nerves were totally on edge.
His attempt at not thinking about everything that could go wrong was feeble and impossible.
The Massey empire was huge. His father had amassed a large fortune before being struck down by early dementia.
Jarod was a very young man at the time, but he rose to the challenge and over the years grew his father's holdings into something huge.
He owned large and small businesses, chains, manufacturing plants, and many hotels.
He had been featured in magazines over the years, portrayed as a financial wizard and philanthropist. His good works included hospital wings, sports fields, and a variety of charities that targeted the poor and vulnerable in our society.
He had groomed a nice reputation in the city of Pittsburgh.
"I heard that Margaret scheduled you for the event at the Massey Estate.
" Lauren came over to his apartment with lunch she also wanted to check out the vintage shop on the first floor.
They sat in the living room eating Chinese and discussing the event.
"I told you she would pull you in." She gloated and checked over Shae's injured face.
"The swelling is gone, and the bruising will be easy to cover. You look fine, Shae."
"Thanks, Lauren."
“I knew Margaret would want your expertise at his event.” She continued with her praise.
"Massey asked for me after viewing our staff photos.
He chose me based on my build, I think." Shae assumed he wanted a deep massage and liked Shae's broader upper body.
He wasn't muscular by any means, but he was larger than River and Felix.
Those two looked like high schoolers, cute but small, very small.
"I'm not scheduled until nine tonight." He looked at her and rolled his eyes.
"So, Jarod Massey is your only client today?" She asked, and Shae nodded slowly. "That's unfortunate. You could have gotten more tips with more clients, but maybe he will make it all worth your while." She ended with a cheery smile.
“Or maybe he will punch me repeatedly in the face and have one of his bodyguards break me in half before tossing me onto the street.” Shae was only half joking.
Lauren shook her head. "Don't talk like that, Shae.
Think positively. Mr. Massey is going to be so impressed that he offers you a job at one of his hotels, or maybe he'll hire you as his personal masseur, and you will live on his estate.
" Shae couldn't help himself and just stared at her like she was insane.
"There is not a single chance in hell of any of that happening.
I'm not criticizing myself, I'm just being realistic.
" He clarified when Lauren continued to shake her head.
"He may think he wants something deep and rejuvenating, but these rich guys are rarely as tough as they think they are.
The minute I go deep, he gets upset and sends me packing.
That's the problem, they demand the painful stuff and then cry when it gets painful. "
“Give him a half measure.” She suggested.
“Like how?” He was getting a little sarcastic.
"You have a variety of people you see, so temper his massage a little. Make it somewhere between that little Sunday school teacher and the construction worker.” She suggested it, and it wasn't a bad approach, but it would be difficult to maintain.
He was trained in certain techniques, and each has its own process. He always followed the process from beginning to end, from the first step to the last. It was how he was taught. Maybe he should have gone to a better school.
"When are you scheduled?" He asked, wanting to shift the focus off himself.
"I go in at two, and my last appointment is at six." She responded while eating her fortune cookie. "All my clients are women, three women."
“What other services will be there, do you know?”
"A lot of team building stuff and personal power speeches from what I hear. Also, health professionals will be on site along with some yoga teachers. The food is supposed to be top-tier. I hope we get to sample some."
"Unlikely all that stuff is for guests only, but I sure hope we haven't been misled with the promises of hefty tips. I could use some extra cash right now. My client numbers have dipped over the last two months, and my bank account is hurting." Shae brought the conversation to the practical.
“I hope Mr. Massey treats you right and gives you a big tip and makes a bunch of referrals for you.” Lauren was the nicest person Shae had ever met.
"I hope your day goes well, too, Lauren." She was just a total sweetheart of a lady.
***
The contract included multiple targets, but Torin took them one at a time, eliminating them completely as he ended their lives.
The first three were completed on Friday, and the final two, including the primary target, would be completed today, Saturday, during the flashy luxury retreat Massey had arranged.
It had been hours since he'd eliminated the others, and their disappearance had not been noticed.
Massey was not the kind of boss who kept tight control of his men, or perhaps he just didn't care.
Didn't matter what; what did matter was that Torin had been inside the Massey estate since early morning, waiting and gauging the opportune moment to finish this assignment.
He was in Owens's quarters, the last of Massey's underbosses.
He had a massage scheduled and would soon be arriving to get settled.
Torin planned to kill him before the masseuse arrived; otherwise, he would have to eliminate the masseuse as well.
He preferred to keep to the plan. He calculated and carried out his assignments with absolute precision.
Any changes could open the door to detection, and his livelihood depended on covert secrecy, anonymity, and, above all, silence. No witnesses and no traces left.