Free Assassin by Nadene Seiters Page A

body fat count of zero. Being near him
makes her feel a little on the fat side.
    “Whoever the client wanted me to, as long as they paid
enough. I didn’t ask questions beyond where and who, Cassidy.” Her pretty face
blanches as she realizes what he’s saying and her lips part a millimeter as she
stares at him. He really is a lithe killing machine standing right in front of
her.
    “How many?” This one comes out more like a whisper, and Troy
feels his heart sink as he thinks back to each mark he’s ever killed.
    “Nine.” She quirks an eyebrow and puts one leg off to the side
a few inches as she thinks.
    “So you killed one person a year since you were what,
eighteen, nineteen? Why not more?” It’s the oddest question anyone has ever
asked him, and one that the FBI agents never bothered to.
    “I didn’t need to. The payment from one client was enough to
last me a year where I lived.” The truth hurts like an axe through the chest.
He waits for her to leave like any normal person would, but she’s studying him
like a lab rat.
    “Why would someone get into that business?” Troy stands up
and looks at the wall of the barn ahead of him. The muscle in his neck is
jumping again with his pulse as he tries to determine whether or not he should
tell her the truth. If he does, she might look at him with pity like the female
agent, Maggie, did. If he lies to her and tells her that it was fun and games
for him, then she’ll find him disgusting and never talk to him again. Yet he
doesn’t want either.
    “You could say I was born into it.” That should suffice for
now. Cassidy seems to make some sort of decision about him as she stands there and
turns to walk out of the barn. She stops and turns her head without turning the
rest of her body so that he can see her cheek and the pink streak in her hair.
    “That’s a shame, Troy because I think you could be better
than that.” It’s not pity, but it’s not hatred either. She sounds understanding,
and that makes Troy curious about her upbringing.
    “Cassidy,” he calls out her name before she can walk away
and she stays where she’s at, “what happened to your mother?” It’s been nagging
him since he arrived. Her father doesn’t wear a wedding band and never mentions
a previous wife, and Cassidy has never mentioned her mother.
    “She’s dead.” Her retreat is a little more hurried than
usual, and Troy feels guilty for asking. It’s obviously a sore spot with her,
so he figures he’d better ask Grant those nagging questions from now on.
    Hannah insists upon finding Troy before she leaves, and Jody
walks in on him grooming Beethoven with a soft bristled brush. He didn’t want
to tear apart any of the equipment that he didn’t know, and the only thing left
that he could think of to keep himself from Hannah’s sight was grooming a
horse. Jody’s brilliant smile tells him that she’s more than curious about him.
She’s interested. Suddenly he wishes he had grabbed another shirt before the
kid’s mom got back.
    “Now say goodbye so that we don’t interrupt Mr. Red too
much, sweetheart.” Hannah’s shy wave is altogether different from her behavior
earlier at the truck, and Troy feels a little guilty for reacting the way he
did to her last question. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he forgot who he was
speaking to.
    “I’m coming back on Friday, will you be here?” Jody has her
hand on her daughter’s head, and he watches her long fingers pull Hannah’s hair
back from her face.
    “I’m sure that he will, now say goodbye so that we can get
to Natalie’s house on time.” Hannah’s wave looks a little forlorn, and Troy
wonders who Natalie is. The kid seems to have a pretty busy life. Cassidy waves
to him as she passes by the barn doorway, and he automatically waves his hand
before he can stop himself. He hears her truck start and breathes a sigh of
relief when he realizes that everyone but Grant is gone.
    His stomach rumbles to tell him that