Chapter 43
That Sunday was warm and sunny—eighty degrees next to the lake.
A slight breeze blew, and plenty of people were out and about.
Alex was totally unrecognizable with his new appearance, not that anyone in Milwaukee knew him personally.
He kept to himself because of his occupation, not because he was unfriendly.
It was what it was, and someday, when he’d earned enough money to satisfy him, he would quit.
Quit before you’re caught was another motto he lived by. So far, by remaining invisible, he hadn’t had any problems to speak of.
Alex set out wearing his logo-free ball cap and super-dark sunglasses. He made sure to have his phone handy since it held every important photo. His client needed to see the latest ones in order for Alex to receive payment for Torrie’s death.
He texted his client as he walked. He was a few minutes from the location they’d agreed on. The response came in that his client had arrived and was waiting by the boulder seawall behind the museum.
Alex saw his client and approached. They shook hands, and Alex took a seat on the rocks.
“How did the last hit go?”
Alex grinned. “Problem free.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped the first photo, and passed the phone over. Once his client approved and handed him the envelope of cash, Alex would delete those photos forever.
“So?” Alex rubbed his hands together. He was curious about the final hit.
“This next target lives in River Hills on a very secluded winding road. Not many people live back there, and the area is heavily wooded, which would make a sneak attack relatively simple, especially at night. Here’s the address, but I’m not sure where the hit should happen.
Out in the woods or as they’re driving would be good.
No evidence left behind. They need to be disabled somehow, and then you can do to them what you’ve done to the others. ”
“Not a problem. This target will be buried in the woods fifty miles north of here instead of a water burial. I’ve relocated my boat to a marina in Illinois. Gotta keep on moving to prevent either of us from getting caught.”
“That’s perfect, Alex. I’m very satisfied with your work up to this point. Is Wednesday night doable?”
“Absolutely, and I’ll get started on the preliminary setup tomorrow.”
“That’s great.” Alex was handed a slip of paper listing the target’s name, description, and address.
His client showed Alex a recent photo too.
“If you want to check out the target in advance, they’ll be having dinner at the Harbor Inn at seven o’clock tonight.
Walk in, have a drink, and see for yourself. ”
Alex smiled then stood. “That’s exactly what I’ll do, and thank you for these opportunities. I guess I’ll see you one last time when this hit is complete.”
His client passed him a thick envelope, which Alex quickly pocketed. He nodded a thank-you and turned to walk away but stopped. He scratched his cheek as he thought.
“If you have a few more minutes, I’d like to go over an idea with you and also suggest some ways to avoid hiccups for both of us.”
“Certainly. Sit down and we’ll talk some more.”
Thirty minutes later and with a new plan firmly in place, Alex walked home.
Back at his apartment, Alex stashed the envelope in the secret dresser compartment with the rest, cracked open a cold beer, then chuckled. “That wasn’t what I was expecting, but a hit is a hit, and money is green, just the way I like it.”
Alex left to run one more errand before dealing with the target. With everything he needed bought and stashed in the Jeep, Alex returned home, had an early supper, then waited to leave for the Harbor Inn.
At seven thirty, Alex sat comfortably at the upscale Harbor Inn bar, sipping his second gin and tonic, just as his client had suggested.
His target sat at a table six feet away.
Supper looked to be over, but the drinks were flowing.
The target—loud and outspoken—seemed to enjoy keeping the waitstaff running in circles.
Alex shook his head. What a gem. He discretely nodded to his client who also sat at that table.
From his barstool, Alex watched as the target rose and disappeared down the hallway that led to the restrooms. Alex nodded again. His client needed to act, and soon enough, the night’s plan would be set in motion.
He tipped his wrist and checked the time. By eight o’clock, everything would begin.
“Would you like another gin and tonic, sir?”
Alex held up his hands. “No, thanks. Two is always my limit.”
“Smart thinking.” The bartender pointed his chin toward the target. “You don’t want to be like that. Drunk every weekend and always loud and obnoxious.”
“That’s too bad and tough on the staff. If it gets out of hand, I’ll pitch in.”
“Appreciate it, man.”
Alex watched as the target’s head began to bob. The time was growing near. He saw his client leave through the front door then return minutes later.
Valet parking, I assume.
After paying his bar tab, Alex rose, thanked the bartender again, and offered to help with the situation at the target’s table as gracefully as possible.
Outside, with the wobbly target between himself and his client, Alex opened the waiting car door and helped the target inside.
He whispered to his client that he would follow close behind.
It took another fifteen minutes on the dark, winding road to reach the house in the woods. Alex followed the car ahead of him into the four-car garage, then the door went down.
His client waved him over and into a room off the garage. “You can do it here. This is the tub the dogs get bathed in. Seems appropriate.”
“No problem. I’ll let you know when it’s done. Go on inside and relax.”
With his client inside the home, Alex got to work.
He dragged the Rohypnol drugged target out of the car, into the oversized dog tub, and removed their clothes.
He pushed the target’s head forward while listening to the obstinate grumbling and incoherent babbling.
Alex stripped off his own clothing down to his underwear, not wanting blood to get on his clothes or body.
With a quick swipe of the blade, he sliced the target’s throat and watched the blood run down the drain.
It wouldn’t take long to do what he’d done to the three ladies over the last month.
Fingers and teeth would be destroyed, and the legs would be removed and shoved into the garbage bags with the head and torso before zipping all of that into the backpack.
Alex would clean everything thoroughly and use the luminol he’d bought that afternoon to make sure there wasn’t a speck of blood anywhere.
The backpack would be loaded into the Jeep, he would dispose of the body the next evening, then his client would meet him at their preplanned location far away from Milwaukee County.
An hour later, Alex was done. The cleanup was flawless, the drain had nothing incriminating in it, and the backpack was on the floor in the rear of the Jeep. Soon enough, the target would be nothing but a bad memory.
After dressing, Alex carried the target’s clothing inside.
“It’s done, and you can put these clothes away. The phone was destroyed, and the wallet will be disposed of.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Alex.”
“After the body is buried, meet me at nine p.m. on the farm road I gave you directions to. Don’t call or text me, and I’d suggest getting rid of that phone and replacing it with a burner phone first thing in the morning.
Make sure you drive the target’s car tomorrow night.
It’ll be left behind on that road. Wipe the car down and wear gloves whenever you touch it. Any questions?”
“No, and I’ll see you at nine p.m. tomorrow night.”
“One more question.”
“Yes?”
“Did you have reservations at the Harbor Inn?”
“No, we were walk-ins.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Alex climbed into the Jeep and, once the garage door rose, backed out then disappeared into the night.