Falling for the Hitman

by N. Alleman

  “Mrs. Novikov,” we suddenly hear a distinctive voice call out from behind us, and my heart sinks. I was hoping that we would be able to get in and out of here undetected... especially by her. “Mr. Smith.”

  I spin around with a big, fake grin on my face to greet her. “Officer Whitfield, how nice to see you again. I’m here with my client to try and find out what’s going on. We haven’t heard anything yet and we’d like to have all the information.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you’re here, because I have some news for you.” I can hear Nadia suck in a deep breath of air, which I force myself to ignore. I need to remain professional and distant from her if this story is going to be believed. Any hint that we’ve overstepped a boundary will blow our cover totally. “Mrs. Novikov, your husband’s body has been released by the forensics team so you can now move on with funeral arrangements, etc. In fact, the team is here right now if you would like to go ahead and set things up with them?”

  “Oh... erm okay...” I can tell that she’s totally unprepared for this, but fortunately she manages to pull herself together and agree.

  I watch in dismay as someone leads her away, hoping that she can get through this in one piece without me, but for the purposes of keeping up appearances I have to stay behind. Unfortunately, Officer Whitfield stays with me.

  “So how is she?” She asks, nudging me as if we’re friends, which makes me feel very uncomfortable. “Is she holding up okay?”

  “I think so,” I reply sharply, trying to give her the hint that I really don't want to speak to her, but she doesn’t take it. “I don't get involved in my client’s personal life, Officer Whitfield.”

  “Please, call me Karen,” she smiles widely at me, causing the hairs on my arm to stand on end. “I’ve been doing a bit of background research on you, Alexi Smith,” as she speaks, I feel like she might know more than she’s letting on. “And I feel like your qualifications are more for the sort of man who kills people for a living... not a lawyer.”

  My heart races frantically in my chest, and I have to gulp down a mass of emotion, but I do what I can to keep all of that inside. She might know too much, or she might just suspect, but whatever it is I need to act like she’s just trying to rile me up.

  “I’m a man of many talents,” I reply through a thin smile. “Jack of all trades, and all that.”.”

  Luckily, before she can ask me any further, Nadia returns back to my side and we quickly make our escape, but the thought doesn’t leave me for even one second that Karen Whitfield is someone I need to keep an eye on...

  10

  Nadia

  I don't want to go back to my home... or Damien’s home, it’s never really felt like mine... but I realize now that I have to. Even if just to keep up appearances for the rest of the world. I need people to believe that I’m a grieving widow. Even if people do find out that we argued just beforehand, that’s not unusual for a married couple is it?

  And I need to get back there right away, especially since I’ve already slept with someone else. In hindsight that could be considered an incriminating act by some people. The minute my husband is dead I jump into the sack with someone else. It doesn’t look good.

  “Can you please take me home?” I ask, nervous about how Alexi is going to react. “I mean, I loved spending the night with you last night, it’s just…I’m worried if I don’t go home it will look suspicious.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” he tells me, flashing that grin that makes my heart flutter wildly. “You do need to sort out funeral arrangements now that we know you aren’t being charged. You need to make the world think that you’re a grieving widow.” He sighs deeply, obviously feeling as weird about that as I do.

  I don't know how I’m supposed to pretend everything was just fine with Damien, but if I want to stay out of prison I guess I don't have any choice in the matter. I need to push the beatings and the cheating aside and act like I’m devastated.

  “I picked up some tapes at the police station I want to go through. I need to examine the footage to see what we’re dealing with here.”

  As soon as he says this, I feel torn. Half of me wants to look at these videos with him, but the rest of me knows that I can’t. Much as I want to solve this damn mystery before it comes back around and bites me in the ass, I know that I can trust Alexi to figure it out. He’s the only person in the entire world that I’d leave this to because I’m confident he can do it.

  “Okay But you’ll keep in touch, right? You’ll let me know if you find anything out?” I suddenly feel really needy for him, and I don't want him to go. I’ve gotten used to having him by my side, and I’m not sure how I’ll do without him.

  But I’m going to have to suck it up and get the hell on with it. Just because we hooked up once, doesn’t mean we’re in love or anything. Just because I’m feeling things, doesn’t mean he is too.

  “Of course I will,” he tells me seriously. “Now you just get what you need to done—you focus on that—and I’ll deal with the rest of it. We’ll be back together soon enough, I promise you that.”

  Being back together soon—that makes me feel better. He holds my hand once more as the car nears the house, and I find myself calming down a little bit. This may be one of the most emotional days of my life, but with him by my side I might just be able to tackle it.

  He doesn’t kiss me good-bye, but that’s probably a good thing. The neighbors might see, and we don’t need any more gossip than is probably already going around.

  I let myself into my house, feeling out of place in this damn massive mansion, wondering what the hell to do next. A stray tear flows down my cheek as I realize that it’s actually all over. It’s done. This life—however shitty it became—started off as something special, something with so much potential, and it’s sad that now all those hopes and dreams are all gone. Now it’s nothing but an awful memory, and proof of my poor decision making skills.

  I walk through the rooms remembering both the good times, and the bad. I need this moment of closure, put the past to rest if I’m going to be able to move on with my life. If I’m ever going to have a future, I need to deal with all of this in the right way possible, and I have the feeling that the best way for me to do this is to actually throw him a really nice funeral.

  I know that might be a crazy idea, but it’s more for me than him. It’s more to say goodbye to the life that we could have had rather than the one we did have.

  With that in mind, I sit down to read through all the information that the guy from the police station gave me. When I admitted that I had no idea where to even begin when it came to arranging a funeral, he gave me a whole bunch of flyers and numbers to call, and it only takes a couple of minutes before I find myself completely overwhelmed...

  Then my eyes fall on the words that strike a cold fear into my heart.

  ‘It’s important to involve all the family if possible...’

  The family... Damien’s family. They don't know yet, and it’s up to me to tell them.

  “Shit,” I mutter, dropping my head into my hands. How the fuck am I going to tackle this one? Damien’s family has always been difficult. There’s his brother, whose interest in me has always bordered a little on the inappropriate, his aunts and uncles have always made their disdain for me obvious, and his parents were the worst of all. His mother and father have always been pretty blatant in the fact that they think I’m a gold-digger. They assumed I married Damien for his money, even though I never really saw much of it. They may have thought I wanted to marry him so I could sit on my butt and not have to work. Little did they know that I didn’t work because Damien wouldn’t let me.

  I take a deep breath, knowing I need to call them. They can contact everyone else, and I suppose it would be disrespectful of me to call someone else before his parents.

  Still, I really don't want to do this.

  I pick up the phone and force myself to do it before I can stop myself. I can’t exactly hold their son’s funeral with
out telling his parents that he’s dead.

  Ring, ring...

  Ring, ring...

  Ring, ring...

  Oh God, please don't answer, I think to myself, but of course they do.

  “Hello?” His mother answers sharply, obviously knowing that it’s me. I know that she doesn’t have my number stored in her phone because she hates me that much, but she must have memorized it somewhere along the line.

  “It... it’s me,” I stammer. “Nadia.” She remains totally silent, forcing me to continue. “Erm... I don't know how to tell you this, but Damien is dead.”

  “What?” She gasps, losing the cool, calm demeanor. “What the hell do you mean?”

  “I mean, he was murdered.” My voice breaks with the emotion, as my guilt flows through me. These people don't know anything about the truth of their son, so they will really struggle with this. It makes me feel bad that I even thought about having him killed. That was a selfish decision. I was only thinking about myself. I didn’t think about how it would affect everyone else.

  His mother is sobbing hard now, and I don't know what to say. “I... I’m sorry,” I manage weakly.

  “Oh, don't you say that,” she snaps back, returning to anger. Anger is where she feels comfortable with me. In a way this is more comfortable for me than her crying. “You’ll just be looking forward to all the money you’re getting now.”

  “I...” I’m gob smacked. If there’s a proper response for that I don’t know what it is.

  “Where can I find out more about this? I don't want to hear it from you anymore. I need to speak to a professional.”

  I reel off the phone number of the police station, my heart racing in my chest. I really hope that they don't mention my being questioned. I don't want them to have more reason to hate me. If they think I had anything to do with Damien’s death they hound me for the rest of my life. As soon as I’ve finished speaking, she cuts me off, leaving me feeling totally destroyed. I wanted to tell her that I tried to love her son, but that he beat me, treated me terribly. I want her to know the truth, but the only version of the truth she’s interested in is her own.

  I sit in silence for a few moments, allowing everything to sink in. I’m used be treated like crap by these people, but it had just risen to a new level. I know that they must hate me and blame me to an extent... but that was just terrible. I wish they knew I wasn’t a bad person.

  I must have zoned out for a while, because the next thing that I’m aware if is my phone blaring loudly, bringing me back to the present.

  “Oh fuck,” my heart sinks, thinking that it’s going to be her again, but then I see the number. It’s only Dimitri, Damien’s brother. He might have a strong interest in me, but aside from that we’ve always gotten along well. Hopefully, he’ll speak to me like I’m human and maybe even help me through this.

  “Hello?” I say solemnly into the phone. “Dimitri?”

  “Are you okay?” He gushes. “Mom just phoned me. Is there anything that I can do?”

  “I don't know,” I tell him honestly. “I’m just looking through all the funeral stuff now. It’s all a little overwhelming.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything you want me to do,” he reassures me. “I’m here for you.”

  “Thank you,” I sigh, slumping back into the seat. “This is all just so sudden, and then your mother...” Dimitri is well aware of the problems I’ve had with his parents, so I don't feel shy in telling him about it.

  “Don't you worry about her,” he tells me. “I’ll handle her. I think she’s more worried about the money stuff. Maybe she’s concerned because of the business that we share...”

  The business... whatever they act like it is, I know it’s something illegal, so I force my lips to remain shut as he continues to talk.

  “I suppose we need to discuss the inheritance and book an appointment with the attorney.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, realizing there’s even more to do that I originally thought. “Okay, well, maybe we should meet up later on in the week then and discuss it all further.”

  “Sounds good,” he agrees quickly. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I sit on the couch for a long time after we’ve hung up the phone. I can’t force myself to move. I think that finally the shock is setting in.

  I just need to get through this, I try to convince myself. Once it’s all done, I can get on with my life...

  But even as I think that, my mind returns to Alexi, which I know is dangerous. I cannot start thinking about him, not unless I want to get my heart broken. After all I’ve been through I need to protect myself now, focus on the positives.

  I cannot allow myself to make another mistake... I just can’t!

  It’s time to put an end to this, to return to a purely professional relationship, however impossible that feels right now. It’s the best thing for all of us.

  11

  Alexi

  I squint at the screen, trying to work out exactly what I’m looking at. It appears to be a normal traffic cam, which means I probably could have located all of this information by myself without stealing it from the cops, but at the same time I know there must be something important about it. I just don't know what it is yet...

  I will though. It might take me a while, but I’ll get there. I have full confidence in myself with that one.

  Since I saw the van that dropped Nadia off, I have an advantage—I know exactly what I’m looking for. But it doesn’t seem to be appearing any time soon. The more time I spend simply staring at useless information, the louder I can hear time ticking by. However vital this information is, I don’t like wasting even a precious second, but it isn’t like I have any other choice. I really don't have anything else at all. This gossamer thin link, this really is it.

  In the end I get far too frustrated to just keep on watching nothing, so I lean in to fiddle with the tape, narrowing it in to around the hour where I believe the van will appear.

  As I wait, I feel an itchiness growing inside of me, a desperate need to have this solved already. I want to know if it’s someone who has it in for me, or someone who has it in for Nadia. Neither option is preferable, but I do need to crack that. It normally doesn’t take me this long to get a job concluded. Usually I get the information, kill the hit target, and that’s the end of it. All of this messing around, having to search for information, I’m finding it so damn difficult.

  I prefer instant satisfaction.

  The van finally appears, and as I lean forward to get a better look, I know over my drink. “Shit,” I mutter.

  I watch the rusty van driving along, sticking very closely to the speed limit so as not to be picked up, which is smart. Anything to not look suspicious will help you keep out from under the radar of the cops... but not from me. Not when I know. No wonder those idiots at the station didn’t even notice it.

  I wonder if whoever it was realized that I would be at the home as they dropped Nadia off. I can assume not, because they gave me plenty of time to get rid of the evidence, but I don't want to just assume anything right now. It’s important for me to consider all the possibilities. Maybe my removing everything that linked Nadia to the body was a part of the plan, and I just played right into their hands.

  I don't like the feeling of being a pawn in someone else’s game, I’m much more comfortable being the chess master.

  As I get a good angle on the van, I stop the tape and quickly zoom in as much as I can until the number plate becomes visible to me. My heart races as I look, wondering if I’m going to find out that this is a vehicle that I recognize, but I instantly notice it’s not. That doesn’t confirm that it’s something to do with Nadia, rather than me, but it does make it more of a possibility. I think if it was someone linked to me, I would know it by now. At least... I hope I would, or it means I’ve never been quite as smart as I’ve always considered myself to be.

  I try my best to get a clear view of the person driving, but that’s impossible because they have t
heir face covered, so I can see nothing. Even if I had the best technology in the world available to me, there wouldn’t be anything I can do. X-ray vision hasn’t been created yet, unfortunately.

  “Shit,” I growl under my breath, wondering what I really have now. I’ve got the license plate, but it was probably stolen. I could always find out who it was registered to and see…

  This might not be my area of expertise, but I think I’m actually doing pretty well! My brain flips through ideas, and I download a few computer programs that I know Aidan uses a lot and I start my hunt. At first, much as I half-suspected, it’s difficult to find anything because this is obviously a van that’s used for criminal activities, which means the owner will be very discreet about it, but after a while I locate something that might actually be useful.

  Okay, so it isn’t a name or an address that it’s linked to, but it does tell me where the vehicle is right now... and that has me very suspicious. It’s in the police impound, the cop shop where all of this is being investigated. Either it’s a massive coincidence, and it got pulled over in something completely unrelated, or the police have other leads other than Nadia. Karen Whitfield didn’t tell me as much, but she was so busy being weird around me that it might have slipped her mind. Or maybe she decided to keep that from me in a bid to freak me out a little.

  I need to know for sure.

  As I start to track other traffic cams, trying to work out exactly what happened that day to get the van confiscated, my mind is races. This is a link now, something to go on, and I’m really excited about that. I hate having nothing. Every step closer to getting my answers, however little it is, is monumental.

  It’s difficult to find out something exact, but from what I can gather, it actually looks like whoever the perpetrator is actually drove the van to the impound himself... something I cannot work out. Why would someone murder a person, try to frame someone else, then take the vehicle used straight to the police station? That makes no damn sense...