by Ian Worrall
Chapter 59
F inishing her Hail Mary prayer before the statue of Jesus, Melissa stands up and picks her hand gun off the coffee table. She checks to make sure her gun is fully loaded then attaches the silencer.
The beginning of my escape is set. The cops won’t find me, and hopefully Danil won’t either. On my way, Jason Edwards. You’re soon to meet your maker.
* * *
At the post office five minutes before closing, Colton walks up to the clerk and flashes his stolen police badge. “Detective Cole Porter. I need to know the home address of the person who owns this box.” He hands her the paper with the box number.
“You have a warrant?” the clerk asks.
“Don’t need one.”
“Yeah, actually you do. “
“This is important. I’m on The Drowner Task Force. We believe that the owner of this box is the victim who survived ten years ago. He might try and find her,” Colton says.
The clerk picks up the phone. “I’ll talk to the manager.”
Seconds later, the manager steps out of his office. “Can I help you, detective?”
“Like I said to your employee here,” Colton points to the clerk, “I need to know the home address of the woman who owns this box.”
“Policy is that you need a warrant,” the manager says.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake here. I’m on The Drowner Task Force.”
The manager picks up the phone and says to Colton, “I’ll call the police and confirm this. My brother-in-law is on the force.”
Colton waves his hand. “Forget it then, I’ll come back another day with a warrant.”
The manager puts the phone down with an expression on his face that says this is my domain. “You do that.”
Colton leaves the post office, slamming the door behind him, then slamming the car door when he sits down. It’s just going to make that little bitch’s death a lot worse. How dare anyone defy me? I’ll come back here and take you all out after I get this girl. Anyone who gets in my way will pay with their lives.
* * *
Torres comes in behind the SWAT team. Six people have been arrested. Their hands are zip tied behind their backs. This is the same warehouse that his partner, Chris Isenor, was murdered in ten years ago. He takes a pry bar and opens one of the crates, revealing seventeen Steyr Aug assault rifles. There are six crates in total.
Torres taps one of the prisoners on the head. “Tell your boss he’s going down. And I’m the one taking him down. Of course, it’s likely fifteen years before you see him, but you can probably relay the message through the lawyer he gets you.”
* * *
With the warrant to search Melissa’s financial records secured, Mitchell pulls up her bank account information on his computer. Her checking account has fifteen hundred dollars in it and her 401(k)-retirement account has seventy thousand dollars. She has a credit card balance of fifty dollars with a five-hundred-dollar limit. The mortgage on her home has a one-hundred-thirty-thousand-dollar balance remaining.
“The lady’s frugal, I’ll give her that.” Jackie says.
“She’s likely used cash for all her dealings when out on a job. Won’t find anything out of the ordinary here,” Mitchell says.
Chapter 60
T hree blocks up from the apartment building for Jason Edwards, Melissa is looking around her. Two alleys beside the building, eight different side streets, plenty of escape routes. About another hour before he’s home. Not paying what you owe the boss, big mistake.
She looks around her as she strolls to her destination—the crumbling sidewalk, about ten boarded up storefronts, and a warehouse with a fence gate padlocked, the forgotten and abandoned people.
Is it any wonder that some choose a life of crime? A kid whose parents can barely afford to put food on the table isn’t going to see pumping gas or flipping burgers as an opportunity worthwhile to pursue. But it’s not her problem. She’s here to do her job. When I escape, I’ll donate to a soup kitchen, maybe volunteer, that will be part of my redemption.
She reaches the front entrance of the apartment building and activates her CCTV blocker app. She pulls her ball cap deep down on her head and presses the buzzer for an apartment three floors below Jason’s. She gives it a minute, but there is no response, so she tries another one. Again, there is no response. She tries three more buzzers before someone answers.
“Hi, I went out and forgot my key to the front door. My boyfriend must have fallen asleep as he’s not answering the intercom. Can you let me in?” she asks.
The door buzzes. She walks in and heads to the elevator. When it opens, two people, a man and woman standing hand-in-hand, are in the elevator. Looking down at the floor with a discreet eye on the elevator buttons, she sees that they are going to the same floor as her target lives. She presses the button for the seventh floor. It’s one above her target.
“New in the building?” the woman asks.
Melissa nods.
“When did you move in? Last month?”
Melissa nods again.
“If you don’t like to talk you’ll never make friends.”
Melissa puts her hand to her throat while still looking at the floor and replies in a raspy voice, “Laryngitis.”
“Get better then.”
At the sixth floor, the couple gets off. Melissa goes to the seventh floor and leaves the elevator. She makes her way down the hallway to the stairway. Checking her watch, she still has about forty minutes to break into the apartment and lay in wait. She tiptoes down the stairs so she can listen for anyone else using them and for anyone in the hallway. Once on the sixth floor, she sees that it is empty so far and finds apartment 623. The simple lock on the door falls in seconds.
Perhaps I could be a technical coordinator to movies. I have the skills that any of the actors pretend they have.
She snaps out of her daydream when a door next to apartment 623 opens. She enters just as the couple she met minutes earlier on the elevator walk past her dressed in workout clothes.
“Perhaps when the new girl in the building is better she can join us on a run,” Melissa hears the woman say.
For your sake, you better hope you never see me again. Walking around the apartment, she sees a twenty-inch TV, even smaller than mine, and a couch with fraying cushions. Is he cheap with his other employees? Would explain why some had stolen money from him. As with any business, Danil, treat your staff good and you don’t have problems with them.
She starts to open a kitchen cupboard then stops herself and shuts the cupboard door. Be careful here, you slipped again. She takes a tissue from the box on the fridge and wipes the handles she touched. Find a place to hide. Should have done that first.
Finding the bedroom, she hides in the closet. The wait for her target isn’t long. Five minutes after she’s in the closet, she hears keys in the lock and the door open to the apartment. She gets her hand on her gun.
The sound of the TV comes on and then there are footsteps down the hall to the bathroom. Three minutes later, Melissa hears the toilet flush and the sound of hand washing. The bathroom door opens, more footsteps, and then a loud grunt as he sits down on the couch.
It’s been five minutes. He must be comfortable now. Time to meet your maker. With a delicate touch, she opens the closet door, raises her gun, and steps out into the bedroom. Walking on her toes, she feels like a cat stalking a mouse or bird. She moves slowly and silently so no sounds will alert her target. Maybe get a cat when I escape.
She enters the living room where Jason is watching the recorded program of Doctor Who. Melissa starts raising her gun to point directly at the back of his head just as the show cuts to commercial. The black on the TV for a split second before Jason started fast forwarding through the commercials betrays her. He sees Melissa in the reflection of the TV.
“What the –” he spins on the couch, falling to the floor.
Melissa is smiling at him and then the two of them reco
gnize each other. “You deliver–”
“Your pizza,” he finishes. “So, this is how you endangered me?”
Melissa lowers her gun, shaking her head. “You owe Danil thirty thousand dollars. Did you think he’d forget it?”
He crawls backwards until his back hits the TV. “My little sister needs, or needed, an operation. Bone marrow transplant and we don’t have medical insurance. That’s why I do two jobs, bike courier and pizza delivery. It wasn’t enough so I had an opportunity presented to me to make some big money to save my little sister. How could I not do it?”
Melissa’s eyes start welling up with tears. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“So now that you’re going to kill me at least you gave me one night to get laid.”
Melissa wipes her face on her sleeve. She shakes her head. “I’ve got three days to do the job.”
“Why wait?” Jason asks.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“I can try.”
“Come to my home tomorrow night. I’ll give you the money to pay your debt.”
“You’ve got a deal.” Jason stands up from the floor.
“Just make sure you get out of the business.”
“And what about you?” Jason asks.
“Never mind about me.”
“Do you want to spend the night in my bed?”
Melissa gives him a what the? look. “Really? After this?”
Jason gives her a mischievous smile. “We could always call it makeup sex.”
She laughs as she puts the gun down on top of the couch, remembering how great it was to be held in his arms. “Take me then.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he lifts her off the floor. They start kissing as he carries her to the bedroom.
“A wonderful way you have of looking at things,” Melissa says between kisses.
“It’s good to find an advantage in every situation.”
“True,” Melissa answers as she giggles. She hasn’t been so giddy since before Danil.
Lying her down on the bed, they continue heavy kissing as they undress each other. First the shirts and Melissa’s sports bra come off. She runs her hands down his back and arms. Nowhere near as muscular as Danil, but for some reason I feel safer in these arms than I do in his.
They remove each other’s pants and underwear. Jason slips on a condom.
“You taught me well. not to rip the thing.”
Melissa giggles again. “You’re a quick learner.”
With Jason being about three inches shorter than Danil, Melissa doesn’t feel as deep a penetration as she’s accustomed to, but it’s not quite as painful as it sometimes is with her man. Maybe because with this kid it is totally voluntary. I owe this kid nothing, whereas with Danil his saving me meant I had to give myself to him whenever the mood struck him, regardless of whether I was in the mood or not. So, this is how having sex or making love feels when it is as it should be—on equal terms.
Melissa’s rhythm is now in sync with Jason’s as he kisses her again on the lips.
“Is this good for you?” he asks.
“Yes, oh yes, this is great.” A real man this kid is. Danil never cared if it was good for me.
“That’s awesome, I’m so happy I’m satisfying–”
Before he can finish his sentence, they hear a snap and the bed tilts to the right side sending Melissa and Jason tumbling to the floor.
“What the fuck was that?” Melissa asks.
They look over to the bed and see that the legs on the right side of the bed have broken.
“I guess that’s what you get for buying used furniture,” Jason says.
“Tomorrow when you come over, I’ll give you money to buy a good bed.”
She stands up indicating that the sex is done for tonight.
Jason stands up taking her in his arms, kissing her on the top of the head as she buries her face in his chest. “Wouldn’t it be good to go now? That way the debt will be paid off sooner?”
“Yes,” Melissa says with her face still in his chest. “You’re right, we should. Take your car to my place and I’ll get you the money for it then. She pulls away from him. See you in about an hour?”
“Yeah,” Jason replies as he dons his own clothes.
“Don’t forget your supplies,” she winks at him. Wish I could take him with me when I escape. But I saved his life, won’t endanger him now.
* * *
Danil is sitting at the bar of the penthouse suite in his hotel. Along with Oleg, he is going over figures for the profits on the last cocaine shipment. Each has a drink of vodka. While poring over numbers, they are watching, via satellite, the CFL game between the Calgary Stampeders and the BC Lions. This is just to ensure that any bugs that were missed during the daily sweep of the room by Danil’s crew hear only the sounds of sports on TV. His hotel and his room are well known by the cops.
The elevator bell sounds indicating someone has come to their floor. The two men look over as Komorov walks off the elevator and into the room.
Danil stands up from his chair to greet him. “How is your end of the business?”
Komorov shakes his head.
“What’s going on?” Danil asks as the second-in-command stands up and walks next to Danil.
“The Regal has been shut down and the shipment of Steyr Augs has been seized.”
There is an awkward pause of about thirty seconds as Danil grabs Komorov’s wrists in his hands. The subordinate doesn’t know if he’s going to be blamed, which will mean he’ll probably be at the bottom of the bay no later than the day after tomorrow.
Danil turns away from him and grabs his glass of vodka, downing it swiftly.
“I texted Quincey to see what’s going on. Haven’t heard back from him,” Komorov says.
Danil throws the empty glass at Komorov, who ducks. The glass smashes on the wall behind him. “Quincey’s a mu’dak.” Ass hole. “Eto piz dets,” this is fucked up “after what we pay him.”
“Other than that, my profits are –”
Danil puts his hand up to stop Komorov from talking, “Tchyo zag a lima?” What the fuck? “Only shit can they be right now.”
“There’s another thing I must tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“Quincey told me the cops are zeroing in on your contract killer.”
Danil raises his eyebrows, “Really?”
“Something about a secret weapon.”
Danil turns away and goes back to Oleg.
Oleg pours Danil another glass of vodka as his boss is watching the game. “Another drink, boss?”
Danil takes the glass without saying a word. The muscles in his face and neck are tensing and his jaw is clenching. His subordinate sits down at the table going over figures knowing that once the boss starts swearing in Russian he is to say very little.
“You know,” Danil starts, “we pay this Quincey how much money?”
Oleg looks up, “Depends on the tip and what he does, but so far, off the top of my head, over three hundred thousand in the past ten years.”
“And he does this to us for what reason?”
Oleg shrugs, “No idea.”
Danil nods. “So, we get another mole.”
“Not a bad idea. Find out who this one is and take him out,” Oleg says.
“I already know who it is. Jared Torres,” Danil says.
“The head of OC? Sure you want to do a cop?” Komorov asks.
“He’s stopped doing the job I’m paying him. Make it look like an accident.”
“Going to put your number one on it?” Oleg asks.
“Not for this one,” Danil says.
The two men raise their glasses to each other.
Oleg makes a toast, “To the next mole, may he have a longer life than this one.”
The two men drink and Danil pours them both another one. He makes a toast himself.
“And to my little darling, Melissa. It was good while it lasted but now you need to go.
”
“Why’s that?” Oleg asks.
“She’s my secret weapon.”
“What are you wanting to do?” Oleg says.
“She’ll have to go.”
“Her I get, she knows too much. But kill a police officer?” Komorov asks.
“Like I said, make it look like an accident. His boat sinks on the way to Revoun. They never find the body,” Danil says.
“How will you do without Melissa?” Oleg says.
“The night I met her, Dad said I could have any girl I want. One of those I do on the side can replace her.”
“But you’ll need another secret weapon.”
Danil shrugs, pours himself a glass of vodka and downs the drink. “It was good while it lasted.”
“Good thing you two never had kids,” Oleg says.
“She did get pregnant, but I gave her something that caused a miscarriage.”
“That’s cold, isn’t it?” Komorov says.
“She couldn’t or wouldn’t have done contracts for me if she was carrying a child, now would she?”
“No.”
“And besides, the girl I did when she was in Chicago, she’s pregnant.”
“I’ll get both done then,” Komorov says as he leaves the room.
“Yeah, you will.” Danil says.
When he’s on the elevator, Danil says to Oleg, “How does that cop know about my secret weapon?”
“No idea.”
“You and Kommy, are the only ones who I told I had one. It’s just now you’re finding out who she is.”
“Well, it wasn’t me who let anything out.” He points to the elevator. “He was turned down for promotion.”
“Yeah. Take him out.”
Oleg dials a number on his mobile phone as he and Danil leave the penthouse.
Heading down the elevator, Oleg looks at his watch. “Almost time for the next meeting, boss.”
* * *