Chapter 7
Ashley
When I wake up, it’s already afternoon. That isn’t like me because I’m an early bird. Or rather, I’m a night owl. My job requires flexibility, and staying up all night is nothing unusual.
Before I get out of bed, I think back on the past events and a smile comes to my lips.
It’s a shame I didn’t see his face when he found Eve’s apartment empty. It was a surprise to me too, but no one else needed to know about it. But when the alarm went off...
It must have been a million-dollar view!
When I set the alarm, I did it deliberately to annoy him, to have some fun at his expense.
I’m not ready to admit to myself that he’s in my thoughts more often than I would like.
And then he saw me at the bottom of the staircase when he was still between the second and third floors. That’s when I realized how strong his hunting instinct was.
Except that I’m not the prey. I never intended to be. Even when I ran away from him again, the shadows swallowed me up and I disappeared.
Who’s the cat and who’s the mouse here?
I laugh at the thought, pleased with myself, and get out of bed.
Zoe’s in her room when I find her. Of course, she’s staring at one of her three computer screens.
Most of the time, I have no idea what she sees there, in the strings of letters, scripts, or whatever it is. I don’t know shit about it. I’m not a genius like her.
Sometimes, she’s drowning in chats with shady characters like me; sometimes, she’s busy coding secret information on commission. But like I said, I don’t have a damn clue about it.
After walking into her room, I jump on her bed and stretch my muscles.
“Hi, sis,” I say. “How’s your day?”
She peeks over her shoulder. “I found out some interesting stuff about the victim of your sticky fingers. Elijah Montgomery, son of George and Elisabeth Montgomery, thirty-one years old. Only child. Man whore. More women swoon over him than over Channing Tatum.”
“I could have googled all that.”
“Exactly. Isn’t that strange?” She turns to me in her chair. “The truth is, everyone has a side of themselves that’s visible to those who look at them, but also another side they keep hidden.”
“You know what? I don’t understand what you’re saying, Zoe.”
“What I’m saying is that if I do enough digging online, I can uncover archived documents, bank records, medical histories, personal connections, and even past exam errors. But—but when it comes to him, everywhere I turn, I hit a wall. I find nothing.”
Her words don’t seem particularly strange to me. Surely not every ordinary man on the street has a story worthy of a crime show. “Maybe this guy just lives a quiet life, works, pays his taxes, and is a nobody?”
My words make her laugh. “Please. Don’t be naive, Ash. I hit a wall not because there’s nothing about him on the internet. I hit it because he or someone else put it there. And they put it there for a reason. Whatever is behind that wall is important.”
Okay. Now I understand her line of thought.
“Good point. I understand, you took the bait and now you’re trying to find the fishing rod?”
“You’re poetic today,” she teases. “It intrigued me, and it got me thinking.”
Zoe gets up and comes over. She lies down parallel to me on the bed and looks me in the eye. “I know you took the job from Alex, and I suspect it has something to do with him. I’d prefer you not to keep me in the dark. The man you robbed wasn’t a random choice, was he?”
I shake my head. I put a pillow under my head and start telling her about the job. I tell her everything I know, and about my plan too.
“This isn’t a regular job, Ash. You know that, right?”
“It isn’t. But it’s not just money at stake.”
“How much is this man’s head worth?”
“Seven figures,” I confess.
Zoe’s mouth drops open. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this? That’s not a normal rate.”
Zoe’s right; this isn’t a normal job or a typical target.
The wheels are turning faster in her head, but there’s a hint of fear in her eyes too.
“I’ll do everything I can to help you, but—but be careful, okay?”
“Of course I’m careful. It’s just that complications have already arisen. I ran into the Jackal.”
“Damn it, Ash!” Zoe jumps out of bed and starts pacing back and forth. When she stops, she crosses her arms, and glares at me. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me right away? That killer is a fucking lunatic! What happened?”
“I told you I was at the senator’s brother’s house, but I didn’t tell you that the Jackal interrupted us. Long story short, we started fighting because he also had some questions for him. It went from an exchange of words to an exchange of punches, kicks, and choking.”
My downplaying doesn’t fool Zoe. “I’m going to kill him. Who choked who? Who kicked who? I hope you beat the crap out of him.”
“It doesn’t matter who did what. Neither of us owed the other anything.”
Curiosity appears in her eyes. “What’s he like? You know, he’s quite famous for his actions.”
“He was wearing a mask, so I still don’t know what he looks like. He’s strong and cunning, damn fast with his knives, and he can be funny, but he’s also arrogant, as you’d expect. He’s a foot taller than me and acted like I was his toy. He smelled...”
Her eyebrows raised. Amusement appears in her eyes, and I stop babbling like a wind-up toy.
I don’t like that look at all.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just see how much he got under your skin. It’s a bit like he found his match, don’t you think?”
I snort and get out of bed too. “No, I don’t think so at all. The Jackal is the worst kind of man. Fathers warn their little daughters about guys like that.”
“Except ours didn’t warn us, so you didn’t get that message, Ash. And there’s nothing wrong with a guy finally making your heart race.”
Shaking my head, I walk to the door, irritated by the direction this conversation is taking. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even know him, and I don’t intend to. Go back to your dark corners of the web, little sister.”
I contact Alex a few days later. He swears on his mother’s grave that he didn’t contact the Jackal about my job.
Whether or not I believe him doesn’t really matter. If he’s lying, it will hurt him more than he can imagine.
I’m not sure if our paths have only crossed briefly and we’ll each go our separate ways, or if we’re heading in the same direction. However, it’s suspicious that we’ve already appeared in the same place twice. It’s like our minds are working on the same wave.
Strange.
In any case, I’m not going to spend hours thinking about that arrogant asshole. I have to take care of the job I was paid a small fortune for.
I analyzed Charles Baker’s surroundings and found a clue that I followed.
A member of the former senator’s personal security team retired some time ago.
He’d worked for Baker for over five years.
He never left his side, and when an attempt was made to kill the senator one day, he was the one who saved his life.
Evacuated him and took him to one of the emergency safe houses.
I want to know the list of these safe places. The target may be hiding in one of them.
For the last five days I’ve been following this bodyguard. Long enough to know every dull detail of his daily routine. The guy is old, lonely, and leads a boring life.
On Friday evening, he surprises me, leaving his apartment. This isn’t usual for him because he never goes out at this time of night. He spends his evenings in front of the TV with his cat on his lap and a bottle of Corona in hand.
But today’s different. I follow him, keeping a safe distance. Despite the late hour, the heat is pouring down from the sky. The air is heavy and stuffy.
The bodyguard leads me all the way to Covina. Before I pull over to the side of the road, I turn off the car lights. Meanwhile, he pulls up in front of the warehouse.
Surprisingly, the area isn’t guarded; it’s not even fenced. The neighborhood doesn’t look dangerous, but anything can happen here.
The guy gets out of his Corolla. He’s a tall, gray-haired man. His daily Corona has done its job, and he already has a beer belly. The lack of physical activity is also clear in his body. In the pictures, he looks well built, but not so much now.
He pushes open the huge metal door just enough to slip inside, then immediately closes it behind him. There are no windows to let in light, and no one is hanging around.
Almost an hour I sit in my car before I can’t take it anymore and jump out to check what’s going on.
Sticking close to my ally, the shadows, I circle the entire area. There are several trucks at the back of the warehouse. Not a soul in sight. No doors either. The only entrance to this warehouse is the one he came in through.
The windows at the back of the building seem like the perfect solution. If I want to remain unnoticed, I have to use one of them to get inside.
So that’s what I do. Only the third window in a row opens when I pull on it.
As quietly as possible, I lift it. A toilet window. Perfect.
First, I put one leg in, then my torso, and finally my other leg.
Easy.
I’m inside.
Just a moment later I step out into the dark hallway.
There’s another door on the left. I guess it might lead to an office. So, I turn left.
With my natural grace, I walk down the hallway until it meets the open space of the hall. I press my whole body against the cool wall.
My heart’s beating faster than a church bell; adrenaline rushes through me. I take a few deep breaths, then peek around the corner.
The darkness is thick, but in the far corner of the hall there’s a slight glow.
A soft light seeps from the sides of a huge machine standing in the middle.
It’s the first time I’ve seen such a thing, and I have no idea what it’s for.
Perhaps it has something to do with transport or car repairs, hence the trucks at the back of the warehouse. It doesn’t really matter.
Something tells me that what I’m looking for is behind this machine.