Death Takes a Partner: A Mary Jo Assassin Novel

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  One nice aspect of their plan was that Kelsall, or as they were starting to call him, the fake-Carson, had a morning exercise routine. He came out of his house every morning without prompting.

  Jean’s task was to continue to search for any secondary ways in and out of that compound. Once they dropped the drones from the sky, they needed to make sure that the real Kelsall didn’t escape before their fake Kelsall arrived at the gate.

  They still had to figure out the timing of everything, but they would do that once they reached California.

  Mary Jo took on the task of setting up the dummy corporations and overseas accounts that would end up untraceable so that money and instructions could be sent to the actor.

  And she was also charged with finding an actor close enough to Kelsall’s height and weight and age when Kelsall faked his death and killed his friend.

  Three days later Susan had finished her work. The drones would not be a problem.

  Jean had found three separate underground tunnels leaving the compound, but all three opened into the California trees close to the sniper positions they had already picked out. So that problem was easily solved as well.

  Mary Jo had her task done as well as far as setting up the accounts for all three of them to transfer money into and to hire the actor.

  Then she and Susan both went to work on the church finances, trying to figure out ways to hack into their accounts. All three of them had laughingly agreed that if they could take the fake church’s money as well as kill their fake leader, it would be a win for everyone involved.

  It turned out that draining the church accounts would be a lot easier than any of them had expected. It seemed that over the years the fake Carson had gotten very lax at security in that area.

  So finally, Mary Jo felt like they were ready, but for some reason still felt something was wrong.

  And that night over dinner, when she said everything felt ready, both Jean and Susan nodded, but not with any enthusiasm.

  “I think this is a great plan,” Susan said. “And I actually think it will work. But…”

  “My problem exactly,” Jean said. “But…It feels like we are forgetting one major detail.”

  Mary Jo looked at Jean, the woman she loved more than anything, and just started laughing.

  “It seems,” Mary Jo said, “that we have come up with a great plan and there is something about it that bothers all of us. We need to figure out what that is because as old as the three of us are and as long as we have all been doing this, we would be damned foolish to ignore that feeling now.”

  Jean nodded and then laughed. “First time I’ve been called old in a very long time.”

  Mary Jo just smiled at her.

  Susan laughed. “Let’s not start comparing ages and figure out what piece of this puzzle is missing.”

  “We take their money,” Jean said, holding up one finger. “That will put the church out of business.”

  “We kill the fake Carson, aka Kelsall,” Susan said, holding up two fingers.

  “Nothing can be traced to any of us,” Jean said, adding a third finger to the tally.”

  But as they talked Mary Jo knew at once where the problem was.

  “We aren’t killing Kelsall,” Mary Jo said. “As far as the world is concerned, we are killing Carson White, the head of the church. The followers would still all believe that Kelsall will still be returning.”

  Silence filled the kitchen. Only the faint noise of the city around them painted the background.

  Mary Jo knew at once that she had found what had been bothering all of them. Sure, they were killing Kelsall, but only they knew it wasn’t Carson White.

  And if they killed him like they had planned without anyone knowing the truth, it would set up Carson to be a martyr instead of a scam artist.

  None of them wanted that to happen.

  They wanted their targets dead.

  Nothing more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  JEAN LIKED HOW all three of them were working together. They once again had divided up the tasks they needed to do to round out their plan and expose Kelsall.

  Mary Jo finished hiring the actor and got him his instructions and where to pick up his clothes and where to stay when he arrived in San Francisco and so on. And got him his first money.

  Mary Jo said he was a nice guy, and it was too bad he was going to have to die for the part.

  “Not getting soft on me, are you?” Jean had asked, smiling at Mary Jo. Jean knew for a fact Mary Jo didn’t have a soft spot in her body when it came to killing to get to a target. And Jean didn’t either.

  “Always hate killing nice people to get to bad people,” Mary Jo said, shrugging. “But the nature of the job.”

  “I hate it as well,” Jean said. Then she had kissed Mary Jo and they had gone back to work.

  Susan was to document every detail about the John Doe body found two days after Kelsall supposedly jumped.

  She presented it to Mary Jo and Jean that evening after dinner.

  Jean was amazed. Luckily, the coroner had kept the body for two years on ice, as was required by law. And every six months more tests were run on the body, fingerprints taken, and so on, to compare them against missing person’s cases around the country.

  So there was a major trail of reports and files for that body. Susan seemed to have found them all.

  And when the body was finally cremated two years after being found, everything was again well documented, including DNA samples, and the clothing was stored.

  Jean was happy to see the DNA samples had been taken, even though DNA was still in its early years back then. That might be the key to discrediting Carson White.

  They all agreed that it was worth the effort to get a DNA match, so the next morning Susan left, headed to Washington State. She was going to figure out a way over the next few days to get DNA samples from Carson’s still-living mother. Then she would meet Mary Jo and Jean in Sacramento, California.

  Mary Jo left also in the morning, heading for California to get them set up out there in a house they had rented, leaving Jean alone in the large condo.

  And it shocked Jean how much she instantly didn’t like the feeling of being alone. Even after centuries of being alone, living with Mary Jo for a year had changed her.

  She didn’t want to admit that, but it had.

  And she liked the change.

  So instead of focusing on the feeling of being alone, she focused on what she needed to do.

  She needed to find some explosives in California. She had some escape tunnels to blow up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  MARY JO HAD never been really fond of California, especially the mass of humanity California had become in the last one hundred years. She had fond memories of small towns back over a hundred years ago, but now the entire state felt hot and crowded and angry. Deeply angry.

  Mary Jo had a hunch that if she had to spend most of her time on those freeways and stale air, she would be angry as well. There were a lot more people in New York City, but it felt different.

  It took Mary Jo a full day to secure the home she had rented in a nice suburban area of Sacramento. No one would be able to get close to the home without her knowing it, and no one would be able to listen in to any conversation that went on in the home as well.

  The place was a standard California ranch-style three-bedroom, with a formal living room, huge modern kitchen that felt cold, and a pool out back with a hot tub attached. The lawn, as it was laughingly called, was a mixture of rock and decorative stone with brush and a few palm trees. Nothing to water, that was for sure. There were more green plants in their condo in New York City than this home had around it.

  And it was so warm outside, and the air so full of smog, Mary Jo doubted that she and Jean would even use the hot tub.

  They didn’t plan on being here for more than a month, but the landlord didn’t know that. Mary Jo had paid a hefty deposit and first and last on a year’s lea
se. The name she had used could never actually be traced to her when the property owner and management company came looking long after they were gone.

  Susan had rented a condo in a nice area near the river, and then Jean had rented another house within a mile of the church compound, but none of them would sleep there, and when in the house would always wear gloves with fake fingerprints. They would use that place for staging and nothing more.

  They planned on blowing up the house when finished to erase most evidence of their presence there, but better to be safe than sorry with leaving traces and fingerprints.

  Mary Jo had rented a tan Jeep SUV for the month. The entire time on the plane and renting the car and talking with the real estate agent, Mary Jo had worn a light-blonde wig, a fake nose that was wider and flatter, and green contacts under large-rimmed glasses.

  Jean would be in disguise as well any time the two of them moved outside in any fashion. Their plan was that none of them would ever be seen by anyone. But just in case that part of the plan went wrong, they took no chances.

  Mary Jo had unpacked her few things in the master bedroom closet, laughing at how little room her clothes took up in the huge space. Then she wandered back into the massive kitchen and just stood there, looking around.

  Damn, she wanted to just call Jean, but she didn’t. They needed to stick to plan, but at the moment Mary Jo didn’t much like the plan of her being alone in this tomb of a house without Jean.

  Finally, she clicked on the alarms she had set and headed into the massive three-car garage where her rental Jeep sat looking sort of small and alone.

  “We need some dinner and to stock the fridge,” Mary Jo said out loud. Her voice echoed and she laughed. “And maybe even buy a few plates as well.”

  She had work to do over the next three days until Jean arrived. That was what she would focus on.

  For thousands of years, her work had been enough for her. It would be enough for three days as well.

  But that didn’t stop her wanting Jean beside her in the car. Not one bit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  JEAN WAS REALLY happy to see Mary Jo waiting for her in the airport. Of course, Mary Jo as a blonde with glasses and a large nose didn’t look like Mary Jo, but Jean would have known her anywhere.

  Jean had on a brown wig, brown contacts, and some fake eyebrows that made them look thick and bushy over her thin glasses.

  Mary Jo hugged her and Jean was startled how wonderful it felt. Even better than she had been thinking it would feel. The two of them just fit together in so many ways.

  “I’ve missed you,” Mary Jo said as they turned and headed for the parking area.

  “I missed you as well,” Jean said. “More than I want to admit.”

  Mary Jo smiled. “I know that feeling.”

  An hour later they were seated at the counter in the massive kitchen of the house Mary Jo had rented. The place was decorated in white and black and metal handles and had about as much warmth as a steel mill. Jean had hated it the moment Mary Jo had let her in the door from the garage.

  Mary Jo had agreed. “This place feels more like a fancy prison cell than a home.”

  “Imagine the couples who think this is their style,” Jean said, looking around. “I don’t want to think about what their relationship would really be like?”

  “Sterile and by the numbers,” Mary Jo had said, shuddering.

  Mary Jo had gotten them both glasses of iced tea.

  “So are we about set?” Mary Jo asked. “I’ve got ready everything we need here. And our fake Jack Kelsall has arrived and is waiting for word while spending vast amounts of money drinking and eating as he was told to do, all on the expense account.”

  “My parts of the plan are in place,” Jean said, smiling.

  At that very moment Mary Jo’s phone beeped. Mary Jo glanced at it, then smiled.

  “Susan has turned into the main subdivision street and will be here in one minute.”

  “Tracking?” Jean asked.

  “Tracking,” Mary Jo said. “I’ll get her a glass of iced tea, you want to go into the garage and open a door for her?”

  “Gladly,” Jean said, heading out into what felt more like an empty sports facility than a garage. In New York entire families could live comfortably in smaller spaces.

  As the automatic door opened onto the heat of the day and the white, filtered sunlight, a blue compact appeared around a corner. Within thirty seconds, the blue car was in the garage and the garage door was closing.

  Susan climbed out, her black hair now turned silver and her nose upturned and dark-rimmed glasses. She also had grown a pair of boobs somewhere along the way. She looked fifteen years older than she had in New York.

  “Mary Jo’s pouring you a glass of iced tea,” Jean said as Susan got her small bag from the back of the car. “Any success?”

  Susan smiled, showing some false caps on her teeth that yellowed them some. “Oh, wonderful success. Wait until you see it all.”

  Jean felt that slight surge of excitement she always felt when about ready to start a job. Preparation was almost finished.

  At some point very soon they would make the go or no-go decision.

  And that would signal the start of the first time she had worked with two other assassins. Until meeting Mary Jo, she would have never thought working with just one other would be possible.

  Jean just hoped this worked as planned.

  But of course, she always felt that way before starting a job.

  Always.

  PART NINE

  Execution

  CHAPTER FORTY

  THE DARK NIGHT surrounded Mary Jo like a welcoming blanket. The night air was still warm and the dryness of the forest underbrush made almost any movement a possible noisy step.

  She had on night vision goggles and could see fairly clearly from the light gathered in from what few stars got through the smog and haze that seemed to perpetually cover this area of the state. It wasn’t a damp haze, either, but felt like a dry smoke instead.

  Mary Jo settled into a crouch, studying her watch for the exact right moment to move. The drones that guarded the area around the church compound were automatic and set on an exact schedule. Mary Jo could hear the background buzzing of all of them in the area, but one drone noise seemed to get louder for a moment as she stayed very still.

  Within seconds, the drone moved past her. There was no chance it could see her since she was dressed in complete black and the drones did not carry any form of heat sensor. As long as she didn’t move when it passed overhead, it wouldn’t see her.

  That alone was a fatal flaw in an otherwise pretty solid drone defense of the area outside the church walls. That flaw had allowed them to not bring down the drones until the actual attack. Much better timing.

  She gave the drone a moment to get past her location and then kept moving, making no sound at all as she moved along the dry ground cover.

  In another thirty seconds she was at the hidden exit of the escape tunnel from the church. At one point, after finding the location of the escape tunnels, they had considered just going into the church that way, but all of them agreed there were just too many unknowns inside.

  And all three of them had survived for centuries not allowing unknowns to be a part of any plan.

  Mary Jo hated unknowns. At the moment, she felt that there were no unknowns at all in this plan.

  It had been three days since Susan and Jean had joined her again here in California. And what Susan had found to prove that Jack Kelsall really was imitating Carson White was stunning.

  She not only had DNA evidence that the John Doe body was Carson, but she had found and talked with three of the fake Carson’s former boyfriends.

  Jilted boyfriends, it seems. And they had been more than willing to give her dirt on some personal stuff about the fake Carson. Things like he wasn’t a real blond but instead just dyed his hair and wore colored contacts.

  The three of them had put
all the information together in very clean packets, with names, dates, data, and evidence. Then yesterday they had sent out the packets to every jurisdiction that might have standing in the case of fraud and murder.

  Turns out for the fraud, that was a lot of jurisdictions. The fake church had really spread out.

  And at the same time they had sent out the same information to every major news source in California and Nevada.

  It was clear in the packets of information how it would be possible to back up the fact that Jack Kelsall had killed Carson White. They sent the videos of the fall, pointing out some things in the videos not seen before, such as the falling body’s hair color. Modern film forensics could do wonders with older recordings.

  They also detailed in the information how Kelsall as fake Carson had been bilking people out of millions for over twenty years with phony promises.

  And just for good measure, they had tossed in how he had been cheating the government on the taxes as well since the church was a scam.

  Jack Kelsall, aka fake Carson White, was set up for a huge fall.

  So this afternoon, right before they left the suburban house for the last time, they drained all of the fake Carson White’s personal millions as well as every dime the fake church had.

  Mary Jo had loved watching Susan and Jean do that.

  And they made it all look as if the fake Carson had moved the money offshore and was about to flee because he was being exposed.

  The three of them were now many, many millions richer each. The money didn’t matter to them, but for Mary Jo it sure felt right to do.

  Again, the sound of an approaching drone over her head made her crouch and study her watch.

  Exactly on time.

  Mary Jo waited until a drone passed overhead, then carefully opened the escape hatch just enough to not trigger any alarms.

  Moving slowly, she pulled a long black package from her backpack and slid it inside the hatch.