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The drive across town was quick, and he pulled into his usual spot next to the employee entrance beside a very beat-up Toyota SUV. The thing looked like it was one bad winter from collapsing in on itself.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned in time to see Delaney emerge from the back door of the restaurant and cross to the SUV. She unlocked it and pulled open the rear driver’s side door, the upper half of her body disappearing inside.
He allowed himself the briefest of moments to admire her ass in the jeans she wore before climbing out of the car and crossing to the door. He waited beside it to hold it open for her, frowning at the way she jolted when she turned and saw him standing there. He didn’t like that she was so skittish around him.
“I should have figured that was your car,” she said, pointing at his Porsche SUV. “It wasn’t here before.”
“I had a meeting this morning. Settling in okay?”
“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “Everyone is really nice.”
She crossed to the door cautiously, and he forced himself to remain rooted in place while she skirted around him to get inside. Someone or something had caused her to be terrified of everything around her, and he had the sudden, overwhelming urge to find out exactly what so he could make sure she was never scared again.
ChapterFive
He spread the pages he’d printed off the ancient computer on the desk in front of him. News articles, opinion pieces, comment threads from social media sites, photos. All of it was fanned out on the dirty surface, and he’d been busy shuffling it into some semblance of chronological order for the better part of two hours.
There was plenty of stuff to be found about her until it abruptly cut off. Like she’d ceased to exist. Irritation flared in his gut, and he clenched the paper in his hand so hard it wrinkled. It was better when he could find out recent information about his targets. Always easier to get a bead on them when he could study their habits and patterns.
People liked to think they weren’t predictable, but every human was a creature of habit, and those habits sunk you every time. The way you go to the grocery store at the same time every week or the fact that you pick up your dry cleaning every Thursday or how you set aside every third Wednesday for girls’ night. Predictable got you one of two things: caught or dead.
He enjoyed the research phase of the hunt almost as much as the hunt itself. Almost. Gathering data was an essential part of his work, and he’d learned the hard way in his early years not to neglect it in favor of brute force.
Not that he didn’t also enjoy the brute force, the blood and the pain of it. Bringing a target to their knees in some misguided attempt to beg for mercy wasn’t necessary, but it certainly made the entire experience more enjoyable.
He traced a finger over her face in the black-and-white photo. She was prettier than the people he was usually paid to hunt. Knowing that sent a little thrill through him. Finding her was going to be fun.
The money he’d been promised to locate her didn’t hurt either. It was the kind of money he could retire on—if he didn’t love the thrill of what he did. He relished the feel of a gun in his hand, the paralyzing fear he always saw in their eyes when he found them. It fed the darkest parts of him.
He took the quick, easy cases to pay the bills. A husband wanting to catch his cheating wife to beat the prenup or a father who seemed a little too interested in who his daughter might be fucking. He took these bigger cases, the ones that required hours of research and weeks or even months of recon, to appease the part of him that needed to hunt.
He hadn’t taken a big case in months, and he was getting restless. Despite his impeccable record—a one hundred percent success rate—his methods weren’t always in line with the crowd who could afford his fees for this type of work. Finding someone who didn’t want to be found wasn’t always a pretty process. Sometimes it couldn’t be tied up in a nice little bow so the rich and the powerful didn’t have to associate with someone who got their hands dirty.
He pushed back from his desk and stalked to the little mini fridge he kept in the corner, retrieving a can of Coke and downing half of it where he stood. He peered through the dingy windows to the busy street below, curling his lip at the potent smell of spices wafting up from the food cart some asshole had insisted on parking at the corner. Christ, he hated this city sometimes.
He might not choose to retire on this payout, but maybe he could upgrade his offices and get off this street. Too many foreigners were moving in. Besides, he deserved a hefty reward not only for taking this job, but for keeping his mouth shut about it.
The client wanted absolute secrecy, and that shit wasn’t cheap. That’s why he’d doubled his fee. The fucker hadn’t even blinked.
He strode back to his desk and finished the rest of his Coke, tossing the can toward the trash, not caring if it actually landed or not. His eyes focused on her photo again, her perfect smile exposing even white teeth and the expensive dress clinging to every inch.
She’d be easy to catch. How long could a pampered princess like that really survive on her own? She’d already made one mistake; odds are she’d made more. She’d probably gotten sloppy, gotten bored, holed up somewhere entirely too predictable, and hoped no one bothered to look.
Well, no one had bothered to look. Until now. As soon as he got confirmation from his contact and the deposit check cleared, he’d be on the road, searching, tracking, hunting. He’d find her. He always found what he was looking for.
Maybe he’d take his time with her before turning her over. The idea sent another little thrill through him. He rarely got invested in the targets he was after, but there was something special about her.
He shuffled to an older photo he’d pulled off the internet when she’d been younger, rounder, full of promise and dreams and life. A sinister smile split his too-wide mouth as his eyes traced her profile, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips.
He wondered what she’d sound like when she screamed. Would she beg for her life? Cry? Would she try to make a deal? He’d find out soon enough.
ChapterSix
Delaney did a final sweep of the room to make sure she’d packed up all her stuff. Satisfied, she zipped up the large duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. She could hardly remember a time when she would have left all her belongings in a hotel room and not even thought twice about the maid service coming in to clean and make the bed.
Then again, some junkie breaking into a suite at the Plaza hoping to find something to pawn was highly unlikely. The only junkies she’d known then were prim housewives popping pills prescribed by their doctors.
She’d paid for the entire week up front for the discount the motel offered and because it meant she wouldn’t have to interact with the creepy manager as much. The way he stared at her out of sunken eyes the color of mud set her teeth on edge.
