Free Tax Assassin by Claudia Hall Christian Page B

face
remained still. The assassin’s eyes noticed that the dogs had
stopped playing. He took a ball from his pocket, whistled for
Zephyr, and threw the ball. The dogs took off after the ball and
Perses turned to look at Seth.
    “ He’s not one of us,”
Perses said.
    “ He?”
    “ Bunch of he’s ,” Perses said. “His
grandfather, father, and himself. We have a file.”
    “ Why?” Seth
asked.
    “ Why do you
think?”
    “ You’ve been watching him
kill U.S. Citizens for almost a hundred years,” Seth
said.
    “ That’s dark,” Perses said.
“And unlikely. If you’re interested, I can see if I can get it
redacted.”
    “ Highlights?”
    Perses fell silent again. He threw the ball
for the dogs a few times before he turned back to Seth.
    “ Sure,” Perses said. “I
can’t think of a reason why not. The entire family is a pestilence.
There was a time when people like me served a global purpose. My
team was created after World War II. We’ve saved lives, prevented
wars and . . . Anyway, it’s not a purpose my son
Stephen will ever agree with but it is a reason other than money to
pay taxes – his property taxes, no less.”
    “ He kills for the money to
pay his property taxes?” Seth asked.
    “ That’s the irony,” Perses
said. “He says the tax man – the one from 1913 – said, ‘I don’t
care what you do to get the money. You live on this land; you have
to pay these taxes.’ His great-grandfather was in the business for
the Confederacy; good at it too.”
    “ To pay their taxes?” Seth
shook his head.
    “ To pay their property
taxes,” Perses said.
    “ Four a summer,” Seth
said.
    “ They’re school teachers
who own a very large ranch,” Perses said. “Plus, they have the
summers off.”
    “ How does he pick a city?”
Seth asked.
    “ One he hasn’t been to,”
Perses shrugged.
    “ Military brass?” Seth
asked.
    “ You found some?” Perses
asked.
    “ Five or six,” Seth said.
“Over the course of the last few decades.”
    “ They own a shooting range
on the way to Piñon Canyon,” Perses said. “A lot of military stop
there on their way out and back. Friendly competition; things like
that.”
    “ Tire lead?”
    “ Same way everyone gets
it,” Perses shrugged. “Local tire shops. There’s a few in Trinidad
you could call. I bet they know him.”
    “ He teaches in Trinidad,
Colorado?”
    “ Near there,” Perses
said.
    Seth thought for a moment before saying,
“Hoehne High School?”
    Perses rewarded him with, “Science
teacher.”
    “ He’s up for elimination?”
Seth asked.
    Perses confirmed his statement with a raise
of one eyebrow. Seth weighed the idea in his mind. If he let the
case linger, more people would die, and so would his killer. He
took a long drink of his coffee before acknowledging to himself
that he’d never be satisfied with that outcome.
    “ You?” Seth
asked.
    “ I’m retired.”
    “ Drone?”
    “ You’re asking the wrong
question,” Perses took a drink of his hot chocolate. “I do love
Maresol.”
    “ I’ll make sure she knows,”
Seth said.
    The men fell silent. Seth could feel the
seconds ticking away. Soon, Perses would whistle for Zephyr, and he
would have lost the goodwill brought on by the return of the
bullet.
    “ Looks like the Army is
going through with the expansion of Piñon Canyon,” Perses
said.
    “ I thought that was off,”
Seth said. “A done deal.”
    “ Not according to the
ranchers there,” Perses said. “A few of them have already sold
their land to the Army and are getting out. Off of the land; out of
the business.”
    “ And our high school
science teacher?” Seth asked.
    “ Had girls,” Perses said.
“You have daughters. You know how they are. They’re interested in
horses, beauty pageants, and marrying doctors. They aren’t up for
the business of murder – not mine, not yours, and not his. This is
his last season.”
    “ And the last
contract?”
    Perses gave Seth a beaming smile. That