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“Chris Kandler. I think you’ve mentioned him to me.”
Rigger pauses, rubs his beard. “I don’t think so. Anyway, he had a beautiful, and I do meanbeautifulwife named Sarah. They met on a singles site five years ago, started dating, and within six months they were married. She always bragged to friends and family about how Chris was the one, true love of her life and how lucky she was to find him. They had a little girl three years ago, and let me tell you … the dimples on that cutie could melt the heart of a demon.
“A couple months ago, they started having problems according to Sarah’s friends. He asked for a separation but then Sarah announced she was pregnant. Not long after that she goes missing, as does the little girl.”
Rigger pauses and takes a breath.
“A few weeks later, a hunter up in Colorado found the wife’s body. She was floating in a man-made basin, her stillborn child drifting right behind her, still attached at the umbilicus. Scent dogs led them to the daughter, who had been dropped down an oil drum not far from there.”
“Oh my God.” I sort through the pictures again. In one of them, he’s cozying up to a woman at a bar. Anger heats through me.
“Oh your God is right. He’s a real catch, that one. Claims he last saw her on September ninth when she left to meet a friend for lunch. Didn’t say who the friend was. But a few ofhisbuddies have come forward and insist he’s not acting right. All evidence points to him and my source has just informed me he’s planning to flee the country, which means this has just turned into a rush job.” He points his eyes to me, sharp and serious. It’s a look I’ve seen before.
“You want me to help?”
Rigger’s face twitches slightly. “I don’t know. Chris takes particular pleasure in killing women like you, not sexually torturing young‘uns.”
“And I take particular pleasure in killing men like him.”
He lets out a huff. “Killing him isn’t the main goal here. He has a laptop I need. One I’ve been unable to hack into from afar. Fucker’s internet is tighter than a nun’s asshole.”
“What do you need his laptop for?”
“Just … evidence.”
“Well I can get his laptop. Just tell me where it is and it’s yours.”
“Mmm-kay. Are you comfortable doing things my way?”
Adrenaline surges through me, butterfly wings flapping against my stomach. Rigger’s style is different from mine, obviously, but even though I prefer doing thingsmyway, the thought of taking out more trash right now takes priority. It must be my irritation with Devin and Swain. And Ben. I’ve got some violent urges.
“I’m not just comfortable with it. I’m excited for it. Bring it.”
“All right, but in light of recent events we have to move fast on this one, Tove. I want you hobnobbing with him tonight. And I want his blood spilled immediately. And since you’re doing it, not me, we’re going with the C plan on this one.”
C plan. I get to be a prostitute. Oh yay.
“Hmmph.” I pass him the folder back and rub my stomach. Ok, maybe I’m not that excited.
“We should get there around dinnertime. We’ll check into the hotel, relax a bit, get our heads straight. Chris hangs out at this outdoor bar on weeknights called the Sea Gypsy. It’s at the local pier, and he usually gets there about eight or so. I had someone disable the cameras at his house and put a tracking device on his car yesterday while he was at the grocery store, so I’ll be monitoring his movements until then. As usual, I want you ready as soon as possible. Outfit, hair, makeup. He’s partial to redheads, so …”
“Ah, got it. I even learned a technique for applying fake freckles.”
“Don’t go overboard.”
“I won’t.”
Rigger twists in his seat a few times. “Also, I’ll want you to use my .22 for this. It has a silencer.”
My blood freezes. “What?”
“I know it’s not your preferred. But this guy owes a lot of money to some bookies. And bookies don’t slash throats.”
My head falls against the window. Rigger knows how I feel about guns. Why did I volunteer for this?
“I can do this if you can’t.”
“I’m not tapping out, Rig. I just need to let it simmer a bit.”
