Death Takes a Partner: A Mary Jo Assassin Novel

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  She found it sort of funny that even though both of them were gourmet-level cooks, neither of them cared much for wine with their dinners. It was only one of many things they had in common they had discovered over the last few months.

  Mary Jo found it really amazing that Jean’s favorite drink by far was a screwdriver, made the same way Mary Jo liked them. How could she not love another assassin that drank screwdrivers?

  Dinner was heavenly. The chicken in the marinara sauce seemed to melt in her mouth with a burst of spice and sweetness she couldn’t believe. Sautéed fresh vegetables in light olive oil were a perfect addition.

  As they ate and then sipped their drinks, Mary Jo filled Jean in on how idiot Stanton hadn’t changed much of his ways at all to protect himself. Jean just shook her head at the stupidity.

  “He hires two of us to kill his target,” Jean said, disgusted, “then shorts us and doesn’t think we’ll come after him. One of the stupidest clients I have ever worked for.”

  Mary Jo laughed and raised her glass to that one. “I suppose he figures that paying us half our final original payment would be enough.”

  “He thought wrong,” Jean said. She laughed as well.

  Then Jean looked into Mary Jo’s eyes. “You look exhausted. How about that hot tub to get you relaxed so you can get some sleep.”

  Mary Jo could feel her heart race and she had no doubt her face flushed a little, but Jean’s face was flushed as well.

  “I thought you would never ask,” Mary Jo said. “But dishes first.”

  “Not a chance,” Jean said, standing and offering her hand to Mary Jo.

  Mary Jo smiled and stood and took Jean’s hand.

  It was like a small electrical shock had hit her. Jean’s hand felt firm and powerful and at the same time soft and wonderful. And her hand fit perfectly in Mary Jo’s hand.

  Jean flushed slightly and then pulling Mary Jo toward the back patio door, led the way to the hot tub.

  Two large bath towels were on a bench there and the lights were off on the back porch, but there was enough light to see where they were going from the kitchen lights.

  The evening air had a crisp fall bite to it and a smell of dry pine and leaves.

  “Get undressed and I’ll get the tub ready,” Jean said, letting go of Mary Jo’s hand and lifting the cover back off the hot tub.

  As Mary Jo unbuttoned her blouse, Jean slid the cover back and off the tub into a holder against the house.

  Mary Jo had her blouse unbuttoned and mostly off when Jean turned around and just stopped and stared.

  Mary Jo liked how Jean was looking at her.

  Liked it a lot.

  She unzipped her jeans and slipped them off quickly, standing there in the half-light of the fall evening in just her sports bra and thin underwear.

  “You look fantastic,” Jean said, her breath not much more than a whisper.

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo said. “Now your turn. I’ve been dreaming about seeing you naked since we met.”

  Jean smiled and unbuttoned her blouse as Mary Jo watched Jean’s wonderful hands at work.

  Then Jean slid off her jeans and just stood there, smiling.

  Jean had on a lace bra and matching lace panties. She was flat stunning.

  “Damn, that’s better than I had dreamed,” Mary Jo said. It was everything she could do to catch her breath.

  Finally Mary Jo forced herself to move and took off her bra. Then slipped off her panties.

  Jean just stared.

  Then Jean took off her underwear and Mary Jo just stared.

  And then finally Mary Jo got herself to move.

  Not into the hot tub, but into Jean’s welcoming arms.

  Right were Mary Jo knew she belonged.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  AFTER THAT FIRST night, Mary Jo stayed at Jean’s house one night and Jean stayed at Mary Jo’s house the next. That lasted for exactly one week before Mary Jo had just laughed and said they were being silly for no reason.

  She wanted to live with Jean, be close to her every night, wake up with her every morning, and she didn’t care where that was, honestly.

  Jean had said she wanted to live with Mary Jo. And the hot tub was at Jean’s house, as well as Jean’s house being easier to guard.

  And Mary Jo had nothing from her marriage with their target that she much cared about. She was used to leaving behind material things. Her house, as they called it, really didn’t feel like her house.

  So three months after the event, Mary Jo, with Jean helping, cleared out most of her closets and took over a second bedroom in Jean’s house.

  It felt wonderful.

  And it felt right.

  It had been far, far longer than Mary Jo wanted to admit since the last time she had been in love with anyone. And one night in the hot tub, Jean had confided that for her it had been almost a century since she had felt real love.

  But there was no doubt to either of them that they both were now in love.

  And enjoying it.

  Mary Jo couldn’t believe how lucky she had gotten.

  They had decided that Mary Jo should just keep her house and the pretense of living there for the small town. But Mary Jo had a hunch the town would soon know what was happening. And she and Jean didn’t care that much anymore. They had played their parts just fine after their husbands’ deaths.

  Time to move forward.

  So one cold but clear December evening, with the snow crunching under their boots, they went for dinner together at a wonderful Italian restaurant just off of Main Street.

  Everyone they met greeted them cheerfully.

  And not only was the dinner wonderful, but the conversation lively and the sex afterward mind-blowing.

  So they made going out together a habit twice a week. Mary Jo didn’t even see a suspicious eyebrow raised.

  On the last working day of January, Jean quit her job. They no longer needed to keep up pretenses about not being together and the following month, Mary Jo sold her house.

  They were officially a couple.

  And every day that thought surprised Mary Jo.

  The fall and winter had been almost magical for Mary Jo. She had never imagined falling so perfectly in love with anyone else, let alone another assassin. She loved everything about Jean, including her perfect body and her sharp mind.

  But most of all, she loved Jean’s passion for her work and keeping herself in shape.

  Both of them exercised and trained three hours a day, often together, sometimes alone. Mary Jo had no doubt at all that Jean was one of the deadliest assassins ever to be in the order.

  And on top of that, Jean never seemed to tire of vodka and orange juice. What was there not to love?

  Mary Jo never tired of watching Jean get undressed to climb into the hot tub.

  And Jean seemed to never tire of exploring Mary Jo’s body.

  They really were a perfect match.

  Something Mary Jo would have sworn impossible just a year earlier.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JEAN HAD NEVER wanted the last six months to end, and she hoped they wouldn’t. But there was no doubt she and Mary Jo needed to get going with their plan to move on their target.

  All winter long they had worked on the plan, sometimes over dinner, sometimes sitting in the hot tub while sipping vodka and orange juice.

  And the plan was a good one.

  So during a wonderful dinner of Italian-spiced chicken laid over a bed of green, smothered in a cheese combination, Jean finally turned to the woman she had fallen madly in love with.

  “I think it’s time.”

  Mary Jo nodded and didn’t look up from her salad. “I agree.”

  The first part of the plan was that Mary Jo would head into the city and live in an apartment they had rented across from a condo their target owned and used for affairs.

  Jean would stay behind and sell the house and dispose of everything before moving into the city to another apartmen
t they had rented close to the target’s large apartment near Central Park.

  They both figured it would take at least three months, maybe longer, before they could move on the target. The tricky part was going to be the banking.

  But Jean was convinced their plan on that would work.

  The only thing Jean didn’t like about the plan was being separated from Mary Jo. And Mary Jo had said that was what she didn’t like as well.

  But Jean knew, just as Mary Jo did, that if they were going to have a long-term relationship, they were both going to need to go their own ways at times to do their jobs.

  That knowledge didn’t make it any easier.

  But what did make it easier was the fact that they had worked on this plan together. It had been fun, actually, and Jean had to admit their plan was a lot better than anything she could have come up with alone. Mary Jo just had a stunning mind for knowing how to get inside a person’s life to get close to a target.

  So if this worked out, maybe, just maybe, going down the road, they would stay together more than they would be apart. Work together more. At least that’s what Jean wanted.

  Mary Jo seemed to be focusing on her dinner, clearly not wanting to look up at Jean.

  Jean leaned forward and touched Mary Jo’s hand. Mary Jo finally looked up, her deep brown eyes worried and sad.

  “You know I love you, don’t you?” Jean said.

  Mary Jo nodded. “I love you as well.”

  “And if I have anything to say about it,” Jean said, smiling, “we’re going to be sharing a hot tub and drinks for a long time into the future.”

  “Now that’s a plan I like,” Mary Jo said.

  Jean watched as Mary Jo took a deep breath and then smiled. “I’ll head out in the morning, call you when I get settled there as we discussed.”

  “I’ll get started on disposing of all this stuff and getting the house listed,” Jean said. “And then join you in the city.”

  “Taking this jerk down is going to be fun,” Mary Jo said, smiling.

  Jean laughed and stood and went around the small dining table to kiss Mary Jo. “A lot of fun. Especially doing it together.”

  “And the celebration when we finish will be even grander,” Mary Jo said.

  “Oh, I think we should practice that tonight, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Mary Jo said. “I love practicing celebrating.”

  They both laughed at that.

  And Jean didn’t mind that they didn’t make it to the hot tub for Mary Jo’s final night in town.

  She didn’t mind at all.

  PART SIX

  The Plan in Action

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MARY JO WATCHED from her apartment window as Stanton Cobble the Third, a tall, thin man with two bodyguards, pulled up in front of his condo in his limo. Her apartment seemed almost bare and had no personal touches. She really hadn’t mentally lived here at all, just used the place as an address and temporary base.

  Over the last three months, Mary Jo had watched the man’s every move, often from this very window.

  And Jean had tracked every move of the man’s family as well.

  It had turned out that Jean had only taken a few weeks to sell her house and move to the city. And after that, every night, after their target and his family settled in for the night, they met for dinner and wonderful evenings together in Jean’s apartment.

  So the time apart they had both feared had been short and now Mary Jo was stunned at how well they worked together, adjusting the plan slightly as they learned more and more about their target.

  Good old Stanton had shorted them both three million. By the time this was over, he was going to wish he had paid the six million thirty times over. And Mary Jo loved that. Over the last three months of watching the target, she had come to hate him more and more.

  Unlike her last target, the sheriff, she could never care for good old Stanton. The guy was just an animal, and actually, it made her mad that he had hired her and Jean to kill the sheriff. Not because he had been her husband, but because her husband had been just a nice man.

  But Stanton’s money had talked and soon Stanton was going to wish his money had talked a lot louder.

  Mary Jo watched as Stanton helped a young woman out of the black stretch limo and past the doorman for the building condo, laughing as they went.

  The woman was barely old enough to be legal in Manhattan and had long blonde hair, just as all of Stanton’s flings had. If nothing else, the man was predictable in his affairs with younger women.

  It would not have surprised Mary Jo or Jean in the slightest if Stanton’s wife knew about this secret condo as well and just looked the other way because of the kids and the money and their beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park.

  Mary Jo had seen that a great deal over the years as well.

  And it disgusted both her and Jean. How could a woman let herself be used like that?

  Mary Jo waited until it was clear that good old Stanton was in his condo, then nodded.

  The plan was set. Today was the day.

  Finally, they were moving.

  She quickly checked the cell phone she had for calls from Jean.

  Nothing.

  The plan was in motion.

  Mary Jo closed the window in her apartment across from Stanton’s private condo and pulled down the blinds.

  She had given notice on this apartment and when she walked out the door shortly she would be done with it.

  In four or five months or so, she and Jean hoped to buy Stanton’s condo across the street in a fire sale. They would, of course, buy it under a brand new name, not even the fake one she had used in the apartment renting.

  She and Jean could afford to live anywhere, but they both thought it might be fun to take over Stanton’s love nest after he was long gone.

  Besides, this was a great neighborhood and had some fantastic restaurants within walking distance.

  It was a perfect neighborhood for her and Jean to live.

  And Stanton’s condo had one major feature they both loved and had stood beside a number of times in their scouting and planning trips. The condo had a large hot tub overlooking a private roof garden.

  Besides that, at two bedrooms, Stanton’s condo had a wonderful penthouse view and a kitchen that would make a magazine about top kitchens. They both had decided that living there for a time sure wouldn’t be an issue or a hardship on either of them.

  Besides, Mary Jo liked the city and she had come to discover that Jean did as well.

  “More than anywhere else in the world,” Jean had said.

  And both of them had lived almost everywhere in the world. But both of them had always found themselves back in New York City.

  They talked often about their times in the city, trying to figure out if they had come close to crossing paths at times. They had even taken walks past old apartments, learning each other’s history with the city.

  Mary Jo was convinced that she would have noticed Jean if their paths had crossed.

  Jean had said the same thing about Mary Jo.

  Now they were a couple that turned heads.

  Jean had said it was because of Mary Jo’s beauty. But Mary Jo knew better. It was all because of Jean, the most beautiful woman Mary Jo had ever seen or been with.

  And after today, they would have even more time together, at least until their next job.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JEAN TOOK A slow walk through the apartment near Stanton’s home apartment overlooking Central Park, just making sure nothing was out of place.

  Then she quickly checked her phone for a call from Mary Jo.

  Nothing.

  The plan was a go.

  She loved this part of any plan. She never felt worried or bothered by her killing. It was what she did.

  What Mary Jo did.

  And both of them were very good at their job. But this target felt like something special today. They had no intention of
killing him or taking him out in any easy way.

  But they were going to end his life in so many other ways.

  While Stanton had been getting lax in not worrying about anyone coming for him, Jean and Mary Jo had been exploring every detail of his life, his wife’s life, his two kid’s lives, his parent’s lives, and his businesses and bank accounts.

  And the more she and Mary Jo found out, the more angry Jean got at the idiot.

  Their fees might have stung the bastard for a few days, but he could have easily paid it. He was just a greedy pile of walking crap.

  Now Stanton was going to pay a much, much higher price than the six million he shorted them.

  And Jean and Mary Jo were going to be far, far richer.

  Over the last six months, to start with, she and Mary Jo had been slowly buying up, under various hidden names, stock in his two publicly held corporations. Stanton was the president of both of them and major stockholder.

  In the last week, they had both, also under the hidden names, started selling puts on the stocks they owned, betting that the stocks would fall through the floor.

  Because of what they were about to do, Jean had no doubt those two company stocks would quickly vanish from the stock market. And she and Mary Jo would get even richer as it happened.

  Mary Jo had great skills with computers, but they had discovered that Jean was even better, which Mary Jo had seemed very pleased about.

  With a little work, but frighteningly not that much, Jean had managed to get all Stanton’s passwords and bank account numbers, including his two off-the-books accounts.

  All told, transferring all his money from those accounts to hidden offshore accounts and then moving it around like scrambling up cards would get her and Mary Jo another six hundred million.

  And she had all the corporations’ bank account numbers and passwords as well. That would get the two of them another five or six hundred million.

  Granted, before this, they both had more than enough money for anything they ever needed. But now they would have even more. All because Stanton was greedy and didn’t pay them after he had hired them.