Killing Time
Page 5
if I was staying very long. I said that I would be here until Sunday. She looked at Marilou but said nothing else.
I sat through lunch assessing the two babes. They seemed intelligent, savvy, and level-headed. They cleared up the meeting comment by telling me that Marilou was a pharmacist and Cindy was a dentist which totally surprised me. After the plates were cleared and it was time for them to move on, Cindy looked at me seriously and asked, "Keith, could we ask a personal favor of you?" I nodded and she continued, "We went out last night and we were harassed by the men in the clubs we wanted to spend time in. We were disappointed that we had to leave because of their continual rude manners and crude innuendoes. If we go out again, would you tag along with us and help deflect those apes? We really would appreciate it. We'll buy your drinks if you will."
I grinned at the two of them and said, "I'd be honored to accompany you. I won't let you buy my drinks though. I want to be the envy of those crude assholes and we can beat them down together."
Cindy stepped over and gave me a bear hug, whispering "You're a real gentleman and a jewel of a person." Marilou held my hand and thanked me. I asked which evening and Cindy said, "Wednesday if you can make it. We have a formal dinner tomorrow evening." I then inquired of the time because Wednesday was my Lenore reconciliation. Marilou said seven-thirty or eight would be good for us. I told them I would call Wednesday and tell them which time was best for me. They left happy and with more confidence about going out on the town. I stayed and watched them walk away. My first thought was: This will give me cover in the event someone sees me and the police come knocking with questions. I stood there facing the ocean beach wondering what they would call me if they knew what my life's work was all about. Hopefully they'll never find out because once they did, well, knowledge has its consequences.
Tuesday I lounged around the hotel killing time. I went for a morning swim in an almost empty pool. I had breakfast with two other men who were dressed in suits and had briefcases parked near their feet. Whether everyone had slept in or was in meetings or went somewhere else other than the Westin was obvious with the lack of humanity visible. I glanced through the paper and saw another small story about Wyatt Hatchell detailing that no suspects or persons of interest were disclosed. None of the stories so far had mentioned blondie. I wondered if the Sheriff had suppressed the fact that a deceased nude blonde was found in the bed with Hatchell. No longer my concern. Wyatt and blondie were now ancient history. After dinner in the half crowded hotel restaurant, I retired to my room to gather my equipment and rehearse my plan once again. I turned the lamp off after the late news and was asleep in five minutes or less.
Wednesday arrived windy and heavily clouded with the threat of afternoon showers. I smiled and welcomed afternoon showers because they provided excellent cover by keeping people inside and inattentive to what was going on around them.I dressed as a vacationer. I wore khaki shorts, Nike sneakers, short white socks, a South Carolina Gamecocks tee shirt and a white Titlist Golf cap. I would be a challenge to be picked out of a crowd on Hilton Head Island because I looked to be almost a clone of every other man on the streets. I went down for breakfast and ran into Cindy and Marilou in the lobby. They were on their way to the meeting and reminded me of tonight. I assured them I would call once my appointment was over. After breakfast, I stopped in the gift shop and bought a cheap tennis racquet and bag as a prop to use this afternoon.
I skipped lunch and went to the condo development. I stopped at the guardhouse and told the guard that I was Martin French and had an appointment with Mrs. Hatchell He checked his list and gave me a pass for my window. I drove to her building, parked and went across the parking lot to the tennis courts and took a seat under a canvas sunshield. Lenore drove in and parked her white Lexus in the assigned slot. She stepped out the same time as a greaser exited on the passenger side. He looked to be in his fifties, in good shape, and about my size, say five-eleven, one eighty-five, black hair combed straight back, no part. They didn't bother to survey the area; they went directly in the side entrance, no looking back. Confident, over confident that all was well in condo land. His presence alerted me to the fact that Lenore didn't have the money in the condo.
I waited until two-thirty. Neither had come back to the car or left the building. I picked up the bag, left the racquet in my chair and crossed the parking lot, stepped soundlessly up the steps to the door and went inside. I stopped, put my ear near the door and listened for any sounds inside. It sounded like she or he had turned the TV on to some afternoon game show. I heard no other voices. I rang the bell and waited. The TV went off. I couldn't hear footstep because of the heavy carpeting but momentarily the door cracked open about four inches and Lenore gaped in surprise. She stuttered and then said, "W-What are you doing her now, French? Our appointment isn't until tomorrow at six-thirty."
"I'm sorry Lenore, but circumstance piled up on me. I tried to call you earlier this morning but there was no answer. Look, our reconciling will only take five minutes. All you need do is hand me my fee and I'm out of your hair forever. Let's get it done."
She looked out in the hallway and saw no one so she opened the door and said, "All right, French. Come on in and I'll get the money for you."
I had figured that the greaser was in the dining room behind the wall, so I led her to the hallway to the makeshift office where there was a silent door I had tested. I stood against the wall and said, "I'll wait here. Get the money and I'll put it in this tennis bag to avoid suspicion." She nodded and said, "I'll be back in a second."
I eased the silent door out, stepped behind it and waited. I took my silenced Kimber from the tennis bag and stood ready for the greaser. He came soundlessly on the carpet. I could see him through the crack in the door hinges. When the gun in his hand protruded beyond the door, I slammed the door hard against him and before he recovered from the violent hit to his hand and arm, I had put two rounds in his chest. His eyes bulged; he dropped the piston and grabbed his chest, mouth open, and no sound being emitted. His knees collapsed under him and he went to the floor. I put my hand behind his head and pushed. He landed face first in the high pile with no other movement. Lenore yelled, "Vince! What happened Vince? Did you get him?"
I stepped to the office door and said, "No, Lenore, Vince didn't get him. He's still here and ready to collect his money. Now get your ass out here and call the bank. I know you don't have the money here. You will take this card and call now. Wire transfer the funds to the Bank of Arizona in Sierra Vista. And, by the way, it's now three hundred thousand because of the complications you introduced with Vince." She grit her teeth and through her clenched jaws angrily said, "You son-of-a-bitch French. You'll pay for this and quicker than you think."
"Lenore, I did the job you requested. You know it's done, so now we settle the reconciliation contract that you agreed on two months ago. Get to the kitchen and pick up the phone now!" I shoved the gun at her and she responded. When she stepped into the hall, she almost fainted at the sight of Vince in the floor, bleeding all over her ecru carpet. With hesitation, she reluctantly stepped over his body. I goosed her with the Kimberto speed her up.
I handed her the phone, she called the number I had written on the card and when it was answered, she asked for the wire department. She was following the script well. I listened closely to her repeat the account number and the confirm by text to my phone. She hung up and I said, "Sit! Don't make a move or a sound, Lenore." She dropped to the kitchen chair and nervously tapped her fingernails on the table top. It took about three minutes until my phone beeped that a message had been received. I slid the screen open, hit 'Messages' and was rewarded with a confirm number that the funds had been transferred and received by my bank in Sierra Vista.
I smiled down at her and said, "Nice doing business with such a cooperative client, Lenore. Now I'll get out of your hair as promised." I walked around the back of her in the chair and as I did, I put the silencer two inches from the nape of her neck and pulled the trigge
r once. Her head hit the table with a loud thunk as the blood began to spread over the white table top. I stopped at the thermostat and turned the air conditioning to sixty, the lowest setting available. The cold air would preserve the bodies until well after I had left the island and would confuse the facts of their deaths preventing the medical examiner from determining the exact day and time of their deaths. I went back across the parking lot, retrieved my tennis racquet, went to the car and left the gated community without a glance from the guard. At the hotel, I called my bank, transferred the money to the account I maintained in the Cayman Islands to await further disposition of the money. Unfortunately I was still holding the quarter million from Wyatt that was secured in my locked suitcase. I bought another box, packed the money securely and had the hotel call a messenger service to pick it up. I sent it to my home address by express delivery again. It's difficult these days to deposit large sums of money without drawing close attention of our famous Uncle.
I changed to my bathing suit, donned a white New Orleans Saint's tee shirt, stuck the Titlist cap on my