Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,7
like he last used his credit card in a hotel bar in Miami Beach twenty minutes ago.”
“Miami, huh? Is he a guest at the hotel? Get me on the next flight out of La Guardia and a reservation at whatever hotel he’s staying at using my Solomon David alias.”
“You got it, boss.”
Did Madigan know that Cortez was in Miami, or would he make a useless flight to South Africa? Even Palm Beach would give Az the edge to even the score. Once at his car, he popped open his trunk and checked his go bag, making sure everything was as it should be. Except, it wasn’t. Somebody had strewn his clothing around the trunk. And his passport was missing. He lifted the mat to look beneath the wheel well, pulling an envelope from underneath. He sighed with relief when he realized his other passports and documents were still there.
He righted his bag with a smile. Okay, if you want to play, we’ll play. He re-dialed the number. Carrington laughed. “Twice in one day. I’m going to start thinking you have a crush on me.”
“Change of plans. Use Khalid Nato for the reservations. It seems I’ve misplaced my other identification.”
Az approached the hotel’s front desk, giving a wide smile to the boy behind the desk with the inky black hair and golden tan. His gaze raked over Az with interest. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Khalid Nato, checking in. I have a suite,” Az said.
The younger man’s fingers tapped on the keyboard in front of him. “Yes, sir. I have your reservation right here. It seems your husband arrived ahead of you. I’ll give you your own room key.”
Az was so busy scanning the busy hotel lobby that it took him a full ten seconds to realize what the man had said. “Pardon?”
“Your husband. Mr. Smith? He arrived early. You were expecting him, were you not?”
Smith? Madigan. That smug bastard. “Yes, of course. I am afraid I’ve had a very long flight and I’m a bit jet-lagged. I’ll take my own bag up if you don’t mind. I want to surprise him.”
The man’s returned smile was conspiratorial. “Of course, sir.”
Had Madigan already taken out Cortez? Az decided it was unlikely, based on the intel Carrington had given him upon landing. “I’m sorry, one last thing. Do you have a restroom down here? It was a long cab ride.”
“Just around the corner by the gift shop.”
“Thank you.”
The men’s room was empty of everything but a small boy washing his hands in the sink. Az made his way to the large stall at the end and slipped on his gloves before removing a vial of jade green liquid. He was careful as he slipped a small plastic lancet into the vial, coating it with the liquid. He pushed his bag into the space behind the toilet. If they found it, the front desk would simply hold onto it.
He disposed of the vial’s contents down the toilet and slipped the spring-loaded lancet between his fingers. It was too small for anyone to notice it.
The pool was too crowded for anybody to even care about another body trying to press in between the girls in bikinis and the moms attempting to wrangle their children. Right smack in the middle of the chaos was the bloated figure of Robert Cortez, smoking a cigar in a black Speedo.
Cortez lay watching a woman posing beside the pool in a one-piece that revealed far more than it covered. Az walked toward him, doing his best to look confused, like perhaps he’d had a few too many at the cabana bar and gotten turned around.
He was six feet from his target when a chunk of concrete disappeared an inch away from his big toe. A few people turned to look at the divot then immediately seemed to lose interest. But not Az. He craned his head, searching the rooftop. Az cursed. He could just barely make out the glint of the sun on the rifle’s scope.
Madigan had been waiting. Had he known Az would attempt to kill the man before heading to the room? Did he have his own version of Carrington alerting him of Cortez’s whereabouts? He didn’t like that he was so predictable to him. If Az took another step, would Madigan take another shot?
“Excuse me,” a man said from behind him in a heavily accented voice.
Robert Cortez tried to push past him. Az looked up at Madigan and grinned, then clasped Cortez on the shoulder, deploying the near