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“That’s what you said last time.”
“Do you want to go to prison, Mr. Eckert?”
Another beat of silence. “No, you fucking asshole.”
It was fair. “I’m so glad. And this time, I’m willing to pay you. Double your normal fee.”
“I’m listening,” Eckert said, sounding suddenly more upbeat.
“I’m so glad,” he repeated dryly. “I need you to find a kid in Houston.”
“No way. Uh-uh. I don’t kill kids.”
“He’s twenty-two.”
“Oh. All right, then. Give me the details.”
“Name’s Xavier Morrow. I’ll send you his address, but he may not be there. You’re cleaning up another operative’s mess. Kid saw my other guy coming and took off.”
“Where’s your other guy?”
“In the hospital. Kid shot him.”
“Shit.”
“What was that?” Lamont asked coolly. “Don’t tell me that we’ve switched from you getting paid to doing this for free so that your ass doesn’t end up in prison.”
“Nah, I’m still good. But now I’m gonna need to wear my Kevlar vest. Which sucks, because it’s hotter than hell in Houston right now.”
“Do what you must. I just want the kid dead. And I want proof that he’s dead.”
Eckert gave a low whistle. “What’d he do?”
“Not your business.”
“Okey-dokey.”
Lamont rolled his eyes. It was hard to believe a man who said okey-dokey was capable of cold-blooded murder, but such was life. “Text me when you’re done.”
“I know the code. How will you pay me?”
“Cash.”
“I like cash.”
“I figured you would. Get to work, Mr. Eckert.” Ending the call, he put the list back in his safe and twisted the combination dial, checking to be sure the lock had engaged.
Then he paced for a full minute, worrying that the two men wouldn’t come through—Tyson Whitley on killing Stockman or Cornell Eckert on killing Xavier Morrow.
But he hadn’t had a choice, really. He needed both Stockman and Xavier gone, and he couldn’t get to Houston in time to do it himself. Nor would he. One photo of him so far from home would raise all kinds of speculations and that could spell disaster. Especially right now.
He needed a distraction, and he knew exactly who to call for that. He tapped Ashley’s name in his contact list and waited for her to answer.
She did on the second ring, her voice thick with sleep. “It’s late, baby. What’s wrong?”
“I need you tonight.”
He heard the rustle of bedsheets. “What happened?” she asked sweetly.
