Jones smiled. “I hope he hates your guts.”
“Anyway, when we get to the limo, you go ahead and get in the driver’s seat, Mr. Jones. Keep your hands on the wheel, and I’ll have you drive us a little ways down Del Monte Avenue. I know a short turnoff there where we won’t be interrupted or overheard. The damn FBI has ears on me half the time. They have those gizmos they can listen right through a parked car with.”
They resumed the walk to the waiting limousine, but Smith glanced back. “Why is the FBI listening in on your conversations?”
“You probably know already, Mr. Smith. I kill people for a living.”
“But… you write novels.”
“It’s a cover. I figured maybe your boss needed a job done.” Nick kept fishing for background. “I have to keep my cover alive, or my base here won’t be safe. You two really don’t know what I do in reality?”
“We know you were in Delta Force,” Smith answered. “I saw in your face you would have killed us both in the restaurant. We didn’t know you were a professional. Our employer didn’t say anything about it.
“That wasn’t very considerate.” Nick kept following the men to a limousine parked at the outer edge of the parking lot, nearest the walkway. “Go ahead and get behind the wheel, Mr. Jones, but remember to grip the steering wheel after you get in. I’ll enter carefully in the back with Mr. Smith. Let me get the door, Carl, and then you slide in first. I’ll follow.”
Carl nodded his assent, Nick opened the limousine door after Jones entered the driver’s side, and gripped the steering wheel. Nick saw a glimpse of a smiling paunchy man with dark, well-groomed hair in an immaculate light gray suit. Nick could tell within seconds this guy knew who he was and what he did. Nick entered the vehicle with his Colt pointed at the boss’s head.
“Hello, Mr. McCarty. There’s no need for you to point a gun at me. I’m here to make you a very rich man.”
“Gee… that sounds wonderful. Head down Del Monte Avenue as we discussed, Mr. Jones. I’ll tell you when to turn right.”
Jones looked back at the man smiling at Nick. “Boss?”
“Do as he says. I wish you would have accepted my invitation for your whole family. I only meant to take you to my estate in Carmel Valley. I came down from San Francisco to meet with you, and discuss a highly lucrative business proposition.”
“As I explained to Carl, the FBI has been bugging my house, and following me around. We’re going to a spot only a mile down the way, where I know they won’t be able to stop. It would be best not to speak until we get there.”
“I like your thinking. May I call you, Nick?”
“Sure.” Nick watched Jones pay the parking fee. He turned the limousine onto Del Monte Avenue. Nearly three quarters of a mile down the way, Nick knew they were close. “Next one on the right, Mr. Jones. There it is.”
Jones turned right into the turnoff. It led to a park that was closed. The streets running adjacent to the stop sign were empty and dark.
“Perfect. We can talk here. Go ahead and shut it down, Mr. Jones,” Nick told him.
Jones shut off the engine. Nick shot Smith in the head, and then Jones through the head twice, the second shot after his head pitched between the steering wheel and window. Nick then shot Smith again in the head, while watching his host go into cringing shock, his hands trying to work the door handle.
Nick turned the .45 Colt in his host’s direction again. “Put your hands on your knees. That’s it. Now, tell me who the hell you are and why I should care.”
“There…there wasn’t any reason for this. I…I merely wanted to hire you.”
“Skip the lectures. What’s your name? You know mine, and where you could find me and my family at dinner, so I’m guessing you had someone watching my house. Since I didn’t notice, it means they were doing it from somewhere nearby with a remote viewing. I always notice, because I check anyone strange milling around, or any vehicle that I’ve never seen. Did you put a cam somewhere across from my house?”
“Yes, but it was only because I do know what you do besides that writing career. My name is Milton Formsby. I had ties to Tanus Import/Export through Jason Bidwell, and through Max Stoddard at Fletcher Exports. I found out through great expense who killed Hayden Tanus, Jason, and Max. Those were the most incredible hits I had ever heard of. You and I have done business before. I put out the hit on Paulo Cortesa.”