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“That’s easy. She’s got a sister. And a niece. Right now, one of Broussard’s men is guarding them. If we send in enough firepower and walk away with Margaret Sutton’s family? Even if we don’t get her with her family, she’ll come to us to get them back. If she won’t tell us where the Morrow kid is hiding, we lure Broussard. Sound good?”
It actually didn’t sound horrible. “As long as you kill Gabe Hebert right away. I don’t want him getting away.”
A gasp caught his attention, and he turned in time to see someone darting out the door. Shit.
“Will do,” Jackass was saying. “Later.”
Motherfucking shit. Ending the call, Lamont raced to his outer office.
In time to see Ashley grabbing for the door to the central hall.
Of course she’d heard. Of course she was trying to get away. Of course she’d tell.
“I’m sorry.” She whimpered when he grabbed her arm. “I just wanted to thank you in person for the bag.”
She’d used her key. The one that he’d neglected to take from her. Dammit.
“I’ll just go. I’m sorry.” She tried to yank free of his hold. “Lamont, you’re hurting me.”
He’d have to do worse than that, he thought as he dragged her back into his office, clamping his hand over her mouth when she drew a deep breath to scream.
Fucking hell.This day just kept getting better. Holding her against him, he covered her nose and mouth, waiting until she stopped thrashing. Her new handbag slid off her shoulder to the floor with a muted thump. When she went limp, he held her for another minute. Then he eased her quietly to the floor and pressed his fingers to her throat, nodding when he felt no pulse.
That had been easier than he’d remembered. Like riding a bike.
Now, how was he going to get her out of the building? He sank into the visitor chair, the adrenaline rush quickly fading, leaving him shaking.
Okay, maybe not quite so much like riding a bike. He’d never killed someone in his place of business before. Dammit to hell.
But he had sneaked bodies out of places before. He did have a private washroom. The washroom did have a shower. And they only x-rayed them on their way in, not their way out.
He needed a sharp knife. Or maybe a cleaver.
He bet Gabe Hebert had a cleaver. A really fancy one.
The thought sent hysterical laughter bubbling from his gut, but he tamped it down. Don’t be weird. Don’t act different.
He’d go out, avoid James, who waited downstairs with the town car, and find a place where he could buy a cleaver. With cash. Then he’d come back and make Ashley much smaller.
It would be all right. He’d done this before.
He knew exactly where to dump her body. The gators would finish her off, just like they had Nadia. Nobody would ever find her.
It would be all right.
