Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,75
he was doing and looked back. “Are you serious?”
August grinned. “Oh yes!”
It took a second, but Ricardo seemed to make the connection. “You have…a million dollars in cash…stashed in a fucking meth house?”
“It’s a safe house, the meth is incidental and hasn’t been cooked upstairs in months,” August said placatingly. “And the cash is really, really well concealed.” Despite that, he would be burning this place to the ground the moment this was all taken care of, because no safe house would stay hidden forever with the way they were going in and out of it. He might as well take his emergency fund out now. He could come back for the clothes later. “I keep it all in another biometric safe?” he added. “Very secure.”
Ricardo rolled his eyes. “Sure it is. Get a move on.” He threw a pair of underwear at August—his own sleek silk briefs. “We’re wasting time.”
August headed into the shower. He wouldn’t be going out in public smelling like really excellent, athletic sex, thank you very much. He wouldn’t walk around with the scent of Ricardo’s desire still lingering.
That scent was just for him.
Sanford Park was a pretty place, a combination of long stretches of green grass and a few scattered trees on one side, a fountain-slash-playpark in the middle, and a row of shops near the parking lot on the other side. It was the sort of place that was quickly getting eaten up in cities like this lately—a broad swath of space that wasn’t expected to turn a big profit for some developer, that was just meant to be a spot where people could walk their pets, stretch out for a laze, take their kids to play, or have a cup of coffee. If it hadn’t been so crowded, it would have been downright bucolic.
“There’s the fountain,” August said, staring at it across the sea of running kids and barking dogs and frantic parents between him and it. He had a briefcase in one hand, heavy with cash, and put his other hand up to block the sunshine. It was relentlessly cheery out right now. “I see our friend.”
“I see him too,” Ricardo said through the Bluetooth in August’s ear. “Barely.”
August didn’t tease him about grousing. He was a little too on-edge for that. Now that he was here, he liked this location even less. There were just too many people to keep track of, and an even higher percentage of children around than he’d expected. “It might take you longer than twenty seconds to get to me.”
“I know.” He sounded displeased about that, which for Ricardo probably meant he was seething internally. “Keep this line open for as long as possible. I’ll do my best to track you, but that won’t be a lot.”
August affected an air of nonchalance. “It’s just a meet and greet. Probably all I’ll get out of this is another hoop to jump through and a tax write-off.”
“You call handing a million dollars in earnest money over to an assassin a tax write-off? You must have a great accountant.”
“I do, actually. Very discreet. Saves me a lot of money, but very corporate too. You probably wouldn’t like him.”
“Ugh. Eat the rich.”
“Ooh, we didn’t try that! I would absolutely be up for that later,” August added. “Next round!” He straightened his shoulders and glanced down at his phone, but behind his sunglasses he was checking out everyone around him. Nobody stood out, nobody seemed particularly interested in him other than some moms chatting behind their hands as they obliquely inspected his ass. Of course, not seeing anybody didn’t mean that no one was there, but if he stalled any longer he was going to miss his window to meet with the liaison.
“Hi-ho, hi-ho,” he sang under his breath, then began to walk across the concrete toward the fountain, working double-time to keep small children from braining themselves on his briefcase as they ran around in their bathing suits, leaping from one jet of water to another. Everywhere he looked, nothing but happy, yelling collateral damage just waiting to happen.
Get your head in the game, he chided himself, and pulled his Augustus persona tightly around him—a little nervous but trying to come off as confident, which really just made him brash, and also mildly disgusted with all the lowbrow people around him. The water was going to stain his shoes, and these were his fourth-nicest pair! He’d have to wait days to get a new set of them, and he