The Love You Crave dc-8

by John Locke

  Hailey says, “You want to eat first, or get this done?”

  “Excuse me? You mean do it right now?”

  “No time like the present. Let’s take my car. I’ve already scoped the place out.”

  Maybe retrieves her small suitcase from the trunk of her car, and climbs into the passenger seat of Hailey’s rental. Hailey guides the car out the parking lot, and down the winding road that leads to a two-lane highway.

  “It’s a short ride,” Hailey says. “Ten minutes, tops. I’ll pass by a few times so we can get a feel for how much activity is going on around the unit.”

  “You plan to do it right now?” Maybe says for the second time.

  “Of course. Why? What was your plan?”

  Maybe feels a bit foolish, but says, “I figured to take a couple of days. Scope the place out, try to catch the mayor alone, or isolate him from his wife.”

  “That would’ve worked,” Hailey says, “if the mayor was your only target.”

  “But now it’s the three men?”

  “And their whores.”

  Maybe gives her a look. “The women too?”

  “You were always supposed to kill the Mayor’s wife. He didn’t tell you? Jesus. Must’ve been afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

  Maybe’s face turns red. “I would have shown up.”

  Hailey looks at her. “Maybe, maybe not,” she says, then laughs at her joke about Maybe’s name.

  Maybe says nothing.

  Hailey says, “Let me guess: you’ve never killed a woman before.”

  Maybe says nothing.

  “Are you going to freeze up on me?” Hailey says. “I need to know. Hello? Can you speak to me, please? I mean, we are planning a high-profile hit together.”

  Maybe says, “Are you dating him?”

  “ What? Oh.” She smiles. “You’re jealous!”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Whatever.”

  “ Whatever!” Hailey says, mimicking her.

  She drives quietly a couple minutes, then glances over at Maybe and says, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk. Truth is I don’t know much more than you. I’m all keyed up because…I hate killing innocent people, especially women. He knows that.”

  “How old are they?”

  “The women? Well, it’s not like they’re children, thank God. They’re older than you.”

  Maybe says, “Women, children…it wouldn’t matter to me.”

  Hailey studies her face. “Are you serious? Because I could never kill children. And he better never ask me to!”

  Maybe says, “You’re too pretty to have been treated badly in high school.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If there were high school kids here, it wouldn’t be hard for me to kill them. I’d just remember the ones who treated me badly in school. I’d think of them, and shoot these.”

  “You could do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “What about grade school kids?” Hailey says.

  “What about them?

  “Could you shoot a kid?”

  “Yes.”

  Hailey gives her a look. “How?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jesus!” Hailey says.

  30.

  After passing the condo twice, Hailey drives all the way to the public beach parking area, a full mile east of the condo.

  She says, “We should probably change into bathing suits and cover-ups.”

  “Right.”

  “You don’t happen to have a large sun hat in your suitcase, do you?”

  “I’ve got a ball cap and sunglasses.”

  “That’ll do.”

  They get out and head to the public bathroom, change into their suits, and put their clothes in their totes to further conceal their weapons. Maybe puts a second clip into the back pocket of her jeans.

  “Is your silencer attached?” Hailey says.

  Maybe nods.

  The two assassins make their way toward the water, careful to step around the real estate sunbathers have staked out and claimed as their own for the day. Maybe doesn’t understand why so many people are sporting angry sunburns. At some point, they’ve got to know their skin’s on fire.

  When they get to the hard-packed sand, she says, “What’s our boss’s name?”

  “He should be the one to tell you that.”

  They walk in silence a few minutes. Then Maybe says, “Have you slept with him?”

  Hailey stops. “Look, honey. You need to take a step back. Not because it’s none of your business, but because I can tell he’s really got a hold on you. You can’t let a man get hold of your mind like that. My ex did that to me, and it was hell on wheels.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Hailey sighs. “It’s a no. I’ve only met him once.”

  “When was that?”

  “About six weeks ago.”

  “You’ve only been doing this for six weeks?”

  “No. I was hired and trained by someone else to do this type of work, but he retired about six weeks ago, and passed me off to your boss. I insisted on meeting him.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “I can’t go into any details. But I can tell you he hates the fact I know his name. Not that I’d ever use it against him. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this. I thought I was, but…I don’t know. This…” she makes a sweeping gesture with her hand to indicate the hit in general, then shakes her head and starts walking again.

  “What about it?” Maybe says, catching up.

  “It’s not what I signed up for.”

  “What did you sign up for?”

  “Snuffing business men.”

  “Why?”

  Hailey says, “Why am I doing it, or why does he pay me to?”

  “The second one.”

  “I think these guys pose as hit men and hire you and me to do the jobs they’re supposed to do. In my case, they used to get all the information on a businessman who’s supposed to be killed. When the guy would go out of town to a meeting or convention, I’d get him to lure me to his room. I was married to a serial cheater once. Would’ve killed him if I could, so I figure these men have it coming. I get paid very well to punish them.”

  “What if a guy doesn’t invite you to his room?”

  “That’s happened only once out of four times. But you solved that problem.”

  Maybe thinks a minute. “The college professor?”

  “Yup.”

  “That was my first paying job.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So,” Maybe says. “There are just two of us working?”

  “Far as I know.”

  Maybe stops. Hailey says, “What?”

  “We’re here.”

  31.

  “What’s the plan?” Maybe says. “Walk in, start shooting?”

  “You think it might be that simple?”

  Maybe checks her watch. “It’s after five. They’re in the condo, having a fuck fest. Probably celebrating some shady deal. The women are taking showers now, getting ready to go out to dinner. The men are sitting around, drinking a beer. The front and back doors will be unlocked.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Six people in the house? Three separate couples? They won’t lock the doors till they leave for dinner.”

  “If they leave.”

  “Right. If they’re cooking tonight, it’ll be the men grilling. Either way, the women are showering. We can take them out last.”

  “Should we go in together?”

  “We’ll check the doors first. If they’re both unlocked, I’ll go in the front, which is the second floor, and you can go in the back, the walkout. I’ll kill whoever’s on the main floor. By then you’ll be up the stairs. I’ll go to the third floor, and you can cover me.” Maybe sees Hailey staring at her.

  “What?”

  “You sound like you’ve been doing this all your lif
e.”

  “Feels like it, too. Ready?”

  They don’t need to test the back door. One of the women is standing next to it, sneaking a cigarette.

  “Change of plans,” Maybe says. “We’ll go in together.”

  They make a wide arc to the front door. Maybe turns the handle and whispers, “Go left, I’ll go right. When we finish this level, go downstairs, shoot the woman. I’ll go upstairs and take out the rest, if that’s where they are.”

  Hailey takes a deep breath and nods. She puts her right hand in her tote bag.

  “After you,” she says.

  Maybe opens the door slowly, peeks inside, then enters. Hailey comes in close behind, closes the door, and locks it. Both women remove their guns from their totes, and set the bags down.

  32.

  Maybe and Hailey are standing in the front hallway. There’s a spiral staircase to the right of the front door. From her vantage point, Maybe can see up the staircase, and, leaning over the railing now, can see the stairs below.

  In the lower level there’s a rumbling noise that sounds like a clothes dryer working overtime. Straight ahead is the empty living room. To the right is the empty kitchen. There appears to be a bedroom off the living room on this floor, and now that Maybe has entered the kitchen, she sees there’s a dining room on the other side of it that faces the ocean. The dining room has a sliding glass door that leads to a deck. The door is open, but there’s a screen door to keep the bugs out. On the deck is a table with four chairs. Two men are sitting at the table, facing the ocean. They’re smoking cigars. Maybe slowly walks to the screen door and shoots them both in the back of the head.

  Neither of them falls down. The table appears to be holding them up, though they’re slouching against it. Maybe turns to Hailey and motions her to go downstairs. She does. When Maybe turns back, one of the men starts sliding sideways, and falls to the floor. His chair overturns and makes a loud, crashing noise.

  The woman sneaking a cigarette directly below the deck, out of view, calls up to ask if everything’s okay. Getting no response, she takes several steps toward the beach, turns and looks back onto the deck. At that moment, one of the men raises his hand. The woman comes running inside, yelling, and Maybe can only hope Hailey is standing ready to shoot her. She opens the screen and carefully places another bullet into each man’s head. Back in the condo now, the house is quiet, which means Hailey did her part.

  Maybe heads toward the master bedroom, turns the door handle, hears a shower running. She enters the bathroom, pulls the glass shower door open, and shoots a heavily tattooed woman-shit!-in the arm. She turned just as Maybe shot. Now she’s screaming bloody murder. Maybe fires a second shot right into the center of her mouth. The force of the shot slams her against the back of the shower, and she crashes to the floor, moaning loudly. Maybe puts one more in her temple, then heads back to the staircase. She hears someone coming up the steps.

  Hailey.

  Maybe motions her to stand guard, and quickly makes her way up the steps. When she gets to the top, there’s a landing with yet another deck. Horrified, Maybe realizes this deck overlooks the one below it. If someone had been on it, they would’ve seen the men get shot. Maybe and Hailey checked the back of the condo earlier, but from their angle, this deck hadn’t been visible. It’s a lesson learned, and lucky for Maybe, no one was there. She makes a mental note to circle the entire house the next time she finds herself in this situation.

  Off the landing there’s a door that almost certainly leads to a second master bedroom. Maybe tests the door. It’s locked.

  On TV and in the movies, this is the part where the hero kicks the door open. Maybe knows you’re supposed to aim just left of the door knob. She lifts her foot, then pauses. If she kicks and it doesn’t open, whoever’s inside will hear.

  She lowers her foot, and knocks on the door.

  A man’s voice says, “Yes?”

  Maybe assumes the most adult voice she can, and says, “I’m the owner of this condo. Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not supposed to be here this week.”

  “Just a minute,” the man says. “I’m not dressed.

  “I’ll wait.”

  When he opens the door Maybe blows him away before realizing how young he is.

  Was.

  Twenty-two? Something like that. Obviously one of the aides.

  Her eyes dart around the room, seeking the last hooker. She glances once more at the corpse and smiles, remembering how the bullet’s impact lifted him off his feet a few seconds ago. One minute he’s full of life. The next, he’s on the floor, a crimson stain spreading across his chest.

  Maybe enters the bedroom, sees clothes strewn all over the place. She enters the bathroom.

  No one in the tub.

  Separate shower. Opens the door.

  No one in the shower.

  Toilet door closed. She knocks.

  “I’m still in here,” a woman’s voice says. “Be right out!”

  Maybe walks over to the shower and gets the water running, so the woman will think her friend is taking a shower.

  Maybe exits the bathroom, walks through the bedroom, steps over the dead guy’s body, walks half-way down the stairs and whispers to Hailey, “Did you lock the lower level door?”

  Hailey whispers, “Yes. What’s going on?”

  “Last woman’s using the toilet.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Search the men for wallets so we can make a positive ID. I’ll go back upstairs and wait.”

  She goes back into the bathroom and removes the extra clip from her back pocket, sits on the floor, her gun aimed just above the door knob…

  Wondering how many bullets she’s fired.

  She does a mental count.

  Eight.

  Her weapon holds nine.

  Should she replace the clip?

  No. Having just one bullet intensifies the high.

  Finally, the toilet flushes. A moment later, the woman comes out, does a double-take as she sees Maybe shooting at her, but falls dead before her brain can process what she’s seen.

  Maybe ejects the clip, replaces it, and heads down the stairs. Hailey’s waiting for her, proudly waving the two wallets in the air.

  “It’s the mayor!” she says.

  “Cool,” Maybe says. She shoots Hailey in the throat. Hailey’s gun clatters as it hits the ceramic tile. Her hands instinctively go to her throat as she staggers a few steps, spewing blood.

  “Oops!” Maybe says.

  Hailey hits the floor like she’d been dropped from a high place.

  “Wh-why?” she whispers.

  “You were right. I was jealous!”

  “H-help me!” Hailey whispers. Her throat is flooded with blood. It’s oozing through her fingers, spilling down her chest.

  “I’ll help you,” Maybe says, “if you tell me his name.”

  Hailey tries to say something, but her words are garbled.

  “You’ll have to do better.”

  Hailey gathers all her strength, tries to shout. Her words come out in a loud, raspy whisper, but they’re clear.

  The name Maybe hears means nothing to her. And why should it? She doesn’t know anyone outside her little circle of acquaintances. She repeats the name to Hailey.

  “Sam Case?”

  Hailey nods. Then whispers, “P-please h-help me.”

  Maybe puts one in Hailey’s forehead to end her suffering. Then she picks up Hailey’s gun, removes the silencer, and drops both pieces into her tote. She repeats the process with her own gun. Then she picks up Hailey’s tote bag and removes Hailey’s wallet and car keys before stuffing the rest of Hailey’s gear, and the bag, into her own tote.

  Then she walks out the front door and heads down the two-lane highway all the way to the public beach where Hailey’s car is parked. Once there, she drives to the country club, puts the totes and her suitcase in the trunk of her
rental car, then drives Hailey’s car to a convenience store. She buys the type of wet wipes that contain bleach, uses half of them to remove fingerprints and DNA residue from the interior and exterior of Hailey’s car. Then she drives to the airport and turns it over to the guy at the rental car agency, being sure to wipe the steering wheel, gear shift, interior door handle, and the keys with a wet wipe before climbing out.

  She walks into the airport, takes the escalator up two floors, and hails a cab to take her back to the country club to retrieve her own car. Before returning it, she goes through the same procedure of wiping down all the surfaces. After returning her rental car, she walks to the airport’s long-term parking garage, climbs into her own car, and drives back to Jacksonville.

  On the way, she calls Sam Case.

  33.

  “Hi,it’s me,” Maybe says to the voice mail recorder. “Call when you can.”

  She’s passing the Brunswick exit when his call comes in.

  “Everything okay?” he says.

  “Peachy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m still in Georgia. Everything’s peachy, get it?”

  “Right. Does this mean you finished the job?”

  “It does.”

  “Damn, you’re good.”

  “I know.”

  “Everything go okay with Hailey?”

  “You never said I had to work with someone else.”

  “Couldn’t be helped. Pay’s the same, though.”

  “She froze.”

  “What?”

  “She froze up on me. Killed one of the hookers, and then just stood there. I couldn’t get her to leave.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She was catatonic, Sam.”

  Maybe smiles as it registers in his brain that she used his actual name.

  “She told you my name?”

  “Yes. Just before she froze.”

  “She told you my fucking name?”

  “She did.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Back at the condo.”

  “ What? You left her there?”

  “Like I said, she was catatonic. There was nothing I could do.”

  Sam’s beginning to panic, and his voice shows it. “You should’ve killed her!”