Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,38
had made a nest in one of the busted-out headlights.
By all appearances, no one had set foot here in ages.
The dewy grass going around the back of the trailer told a different story—a few fronds were bent and gave away the slightest impressions that looked like nothing to the untrained eye but were obviously footprints.
“What’s the plan?” August asked.
“Step one.” Ricardo turned off the car. “We see if she’s here.” He got out.
August got out too. “Uh, okay, so what are you going to do? Just walk up and bang on the door?”
Ricardo shrugged and started up the path. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” August sputtered as he followed. “What does that mean?”
Ricardo didn’t answer. He took the steps up to the front porch, pulled open the storm door, and pounded on the door with his fist. “Becky, come on!” he shouted in an American accent. “Can we talk about this? It was one child support payment! You can’t keep my kids away from me forever, you vindictive bitch!”
“Oh my God!” August whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Becky!” Ricardo bellowed. “I’m not leaving! Just open the door so we can—”
The door swung open, an arm shot across the threshold, seized his jacket, and hauled him inside. He stumbled, but caught himself, and showed his palms.
Before he could say a word, she produced a pistol from her waistband, pulled back the slide, and let it snap forward. Training it on the center of Ricardo’s forehead, she said, “What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
“Heidi, calm down, I—”
“Oh Jesus.” August stepped in and kicked the door shut behind him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to tell a woman to calm down? Christ, no wonder you’re single.”
“Would you shut up? I’m trying—”
“You’re telling an angry woman with a gun to your face to calm down after you just banged on the door of her safehouse like a lunatic.” August tsked again, and Ricardo was pretty sure if he looked, the jackass would be shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “If you wanted to get shot, you could’ve just asked instead of driving our asses through cow country to—”
“Who the fuck are you?” Heidi narrowed her eyes. If not for the gun and the murderous expression, she’d have easily passed for an average thirty-something professional woman on her day off—loose blonde ponytail, pink tank top, jeans. Eyes flicking back and forth between them, she growled, “And one of you needs to tell me why you’re here and how you’re here before I shoot you both.”
“Good questions.” Ricardo made a placating gesture. “It’s me. Torralba.”
She blinked. “Torral—Ricardo?”
He nodded. “Yes. And I will happily explain everything, but we’ve got a problem.”
“No shit, we’ve got a problem,” she hissed. “And you two showing up here is not going to—” She cut her eyes toward August. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
August opened his mouth to speak, but Ricardo beat him to it: “He’s a pain in both our asses. Now who else knows you’re here, and why are they trying to kill me?”
Heidi blanched, lowering the gun slightly. “Kill you?”
“Uh, yeah?” Ricardo said. “That job you hooked me up with—the Baldwin gig? That was a setup.”
Her eyes got even bigger. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a long story, but whoever put that job together wanted both of us”—he gestured sharply at August—“dead. And they’ve almost killed both of us since we bailed.”
“Almost killed you, maybe,” August said under his breath.
Ricardo ignored the comment. “What the fuck is going on?”
Heidi sighed and lowered the gun. Tucking it into her waistband, she shook her head. “I don’t know. But someone showed up at my place yesterday. I got an alert on my phone for one of my security cameras, so I took off instead of going home.”
August furrowed his brow. “Did the cameras get a look at whoever it was?”
Heidi nodded. “Got a decent look at his face.” She chafed her arms. “I’ve never seen him before, so I couldn’t tell you who he is.”
“Any chance we can have a look?” Ricardo asked.
She glanced back and forth between them. “You two still haven’t told me how the fuck you—”
“We don’t have a lot of time. Listen, someone wants all three of us dead. They already took out his contact.” He gestured at August.
She gasped. “What?”
“We found him this morning,” August said quietly. “Came looking for you so we could try to beat them to you.”
“Uh-huh, and you did.” She eyed them both, then glared