Free Evidence of Passion by Cynthia Eden Page B

who’d called him back to town.
    Jack knocked on the door. He waved to the nosy neighbor across the street. She waved back.
    He didn’t worry about the woman being able to identify him. He had on a baseball cap. A loose sweatshirt. Jogging shorts. He looked like any of the other dozen joggers currently running down the street.
    Only there was one major difference between them.
    He was there to kill. Not to jog.
    The door opened. William “Billy” Harris stood there, his eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?” Billy demanded. “What do you want?”
    Ah, even his old mentor didn’t recognize him. It was amazing how time—and a little surgery—could change a man. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card. “I’m here to finish our business.”
    Billy’s eyes widened. “Jack?”
    Billy had been the one to first give him that moniker. They’d been playing cards. The pot had been up to three hundred dollars. Billy had been holding three tens.
    But I held all the Jacks.
    He smiled and stepped forward. Billy immediately fell back. Jack closed the door. There was only so much that he wanted the nosy neighbor to see.
    “I...I can’t believe you answered my email,” Billy said as he ran a shaking hand over his head. Billy hadn’t aged so well. He’d once been a fierce soldier, a leader.
    Now his hands shook and his shoulders slumped. The paunch near his middle said the guy didn’t exactly keep up his old exercise routine.
    Ah, Billy, I expected more from you.
    “It was a shot in the dark,” Billy muttered. “But I was desperate.”
    Desperate men would do anything.
    Jack shrugged. “I was due a visit back here.” Rachel waited here. As did other, new business. Lately, it seemed that Jack’s services were in particularly high demand.
    Soon I’ll move on to my next target. A very big kill. Perhaps the most challenging one of his career.
    Yet for now, he had to take care of his current payday and his prey. “You know why I’m here, Billy. I did my part, and you owe me.”
    Billy nodded quickly. “I’ll just go get the rest of your cash.”
    Normally, Jack didn’t conduct his transactions in person. For Billy, he’d made a special exception. He’d let the guy wire half of the payment to him, the upfront money. And Jack had agreed to collect the remainder due in D.C. after the kill had been completed.
    Silently, he followed Billy down the narrow hallway.
    He knew Billy very well. After all, Billy had been the one to turn him on to this line of work.
    The government trained us to kill. Why not use our skills? They’re just going to dump us, to forget us. I say we make sure no one can ever forget just who we are!
    Billy had been drunk at the time and furious over a demotion.
    Jack hadn’t been drunk. He’d been fully aware. He’d seen an opportunity. He’d taken it.
    I get to pick my kills now. And I get paid for it.
    The money had never been sweeter.
    Billy stood in front of his wall safe. He spun the dial, and it snicked open. The cash was in there.
    So was a gun.
    Jack could see the edge of the weapon. And Billy, well, the fool was reaching for it.
    And that’s one of the reasons why you are my prey today.
    Before Billy could swing around with that gun, Jack grabbed the man, and he slammed Billy’s head into the side of the safe. “Wrong move,” Jack whispered. Then he snatched up the gun.
    So convenient...it even had a silencer attached.
    Billy slumped to the floor. Jack put the gun to his head. “Did you truly think you were going to be able to double-cross me?”
    Billy had busted his lip when he’d careened into the safe. Blood dripped from the wound.
    “I’ve been at this game a long time now. You aren’t the first to have this idiotic idea.” Jack shrugged. “But guess what happens to people who try to play me.” His fingers tightened around the trigger.
    Billy shook his head, frantic. “I wasn’t going to shoot you! It was just for protection, just in