didn’t seem fair for him to outlive Vicky, and Vicky didn’t have long. “I
want the best,” he said.
“That would be Russel.” Jack took a piece of paper from his pocket and
scribbled an address on it.
Cameron thanked him, and while he half listened to Jack’s warnings about not
crossing the line, he planned his revenge.
Chapter Four
Mia Russel read over the printout on her desk and considered the bounty
listed at half-a-million dollars. Acquisitions of this magnitude didn’t come by
every day. It’d take care of her for a good long time, if she could figure out —
She looked up as her office door banged open.
“Knocking would be good,” she said as dryly as she could — the man who strode
in scared her a little. Showing fear now could be a deadly mistake.
Danger rolled off him in waves. Anger, the deadly kind, nested deep in his
eyes, the darkest she’d ever seen.
“I want Russel,” he said, his deep voice booming, bouncing off the walls.
She put down her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, positioned her right hand
so she could reach the Beretta in the top drawer in seconds, and put on her best
smile. “Can I help you, sir?”
She really had to get into the habit of locking the door when she stayed
after hours. They were probably the only two people in the whole office
building.
“I’m not here for a tea party.” He measured her up and dismissed her.
“Where’s Mr. Russel? I need to talk to the man.”
He wasn’t the first to make the wrong assumption based on her last name.
“Mia Russel.” She stood, keeping her hand where it was, near the gun.
Watching his jaw drop was entertaining. Now came the part where he would
underestimate her, an opportunity she would use if he was here to cause trouble.
“And you would be?”
A second passed before he recovered, still eyeing her with suspicion.
“Cameron Murphy.” He stepped closer. “You’re the bounty hunter?”
“That’s what the sign says on the door.”
He was overly self-assured, a man in his forties who was used to command. She
guessed military and took in his faded jeans and the well-washed black T-shirt
he wore. He was powerfully built, with jet black hair and a face that looked
like he had lived a hard life, a lot of it outdoors. His skin was tanned like
old cowboys she’d known in her childhood, men who slept and worked the open
range.
“Jack Crow sent me,” he said.
She relaxed and sat back down. No friend of Jack would come here to hurt her.
From the way he was looking at her, however, she pitied whoever he was after.
“You need someone found?”
“I need someone dead.” He shot her a level look. “But don’t worry, I’ll take
care of that myself. I’m just here for advice on how to do it legally.”
Chapter Five
“No,” Mia said. “No self-respecting bounty hunter goes after an acquisition
with the intent to kill.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“Just to help you do it? Produce someone for execution? Jack used to pick his
friends more carefully.”
“Make sure you tell him how disappointed you are in him the next time you two
meet,” he said with a blank face.
She watched him, measured him. He was no criminal, but there was definitely
murder in those eyes. And pain? No, she had to be mistaken about that. He looked
like the kind nothing could get to.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Murphy. You came to the wrong place.”
He kept those eyes on her until she thought their darkness would swallow her.
Then he turned and left without a word.
*
Official tally of city hall bombing: 296. Final victim, Victoria Murphy,
died at Mercy Hospital late last night.
Mia stared at the picture in the morning paper that showed the young woman
smiling into the camera at an office function. She bore a strong resemblance to
the man who had visited her the night before. Cameron Murphy. Mia put the paper
down. She didn’t believe in coincidences.
She tossed aside the