her hard again, whispering into her mouth, âNow itâs time for us.â
Why? Because Darius isnât hanging around watching you?
Sheforced herself to kiss him back, let her hand slip inside his jeans as she whispered into his mouth, âTell me now, Matthew. I want to know. Tell me.â
He raised his head, his smile dazed, rubbed his fingers over her mouth, said between kisses, âYou want to know whatâs next? Weâre going right to the top, Vanessa. No, wait, Iâll fill you in on all of it later. You wonât believe who weâre going to killââ
There was a loud ding from the phone wedged into the soap. The text had gone through.
13
QUEEN TAKES C4
Hodgesâs house
Bayonne, New Jersey
M ike didnât want to believe what she saw.
Two agents were down at the kitchen table, a poker game spread between them, and now the cards were sprayed with blood. The third agent lay on his side in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
She didnât want to go in the master bedroom, she didnât, but she had no choice. Richard âDickerâ Hodges lay in the middle of the bed, a beautiful plaid flannel blanket covering him, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead, another to the chest. His eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling.
Everything screamed surprise attack. Whoever had gotten in was quick, clean, leaving four dead, each taken down with only two shots. They hadnât seen any brass on the floor.
Nicholas said, his voice cold as ice, âThe work of a professional.â
Mike turned to him, saw the pulse slamming madly in his throat,felt the fury radiating off him. Since she felt the same mad brew, she didnât bother to say anything.
She studied Mr. Hodgesâs peaceful face. âWhoever did this knew what he was doing. As you said, this was a professional hit.â
âHave you ever seen anything similar? All four men shot once in the forehead, once in the heart?â
She looked up at the odd note in his voice.
âExecutions, you mean? Yes, some Mob hits. But, Nicholas, this feels, well, cleaner. More precise. No one struggled. He shot them where they sat or stood or lay, and they didnât even raise a hand to stop him. And the method, two fast shots? Yes, very clean.â
Nicholas said, âAll Hodges did was speak to us, yet it was enough to send this killer over here to punish him, to erase him, and anyone with him.â
âTo tie up loose ends.â
They left Mr. Hodges and walked back into the hallway to stand over the dead agent. Nicholas said, âWhat was his name?
She choked a little on the name. âCedarson. Rex Cedarson.â
âHe was in the bedroom watching over Mr. Hodges, heard the shots, or heard something that alarmed him, since the assassin may have used a suppressor, and was moving toward the kitchen when he was shot. At least he had time to get his gun out.â
Mike swallowed down grief and guilt. Rex was a good man, always up for a joke, had once even locked her in the menâs room. The other men were steady, professionals all the way, good family men.
âThe other two agents were Bob Ventura and Kenneth Chantler. Though I knew Cedarson the best.â She didnât add he had a two-year-old daughter and an eight-year-old son, a wife he loved and didnât see enough of because he had a burning desire to move up the ladder and worked too much. The other two agents had similar lives.And they were gone, in the blink of an eye, simply gone. Their deaths were a punch to the gut. âI canât stand this, Nicholas, I really canât.â
He knew this was a huge blow, knew she was on the edge and might go over if he tried to comfort her, so he said matter-of-factly, âI want to show you something, but be careful. We donât want to ruin any evidence CSI might pull from around the house.â Like Mike, though, he knew it was pointless. Whoever had done this
Cecilia Peartree
Lynette Sofras
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C. Alexander London
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