Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,40
three of them settled into Ricardo’s safehouse. August went to take a shower after some theatrical complaining about how he could still smell cattle on himself. Ricardo showed Heidi to the basement bedroom, and once she was settled in, they went back upstairs.
While he started rifling around in the kitchen to find something for them all to eat, Heidi leaned against the cabinets, arms folded loosely across her chest. “So what’s our next move?”
“Eat. Regroup.” Ricardo put a pot under the faucet, filled it halfway, and put it on a burner to boil. “We need to have a look at whoever your security cameras saw.”
She nodded. “Question is, what can we do with whatever we find? Unless you or your idiot boyfriend recognize him, it’s just a picture of a random dude.”
Ricardo ignored the boyfriend comment. “Well, we start by seeing if we do recognize him. If not, then—”
“Then we see if someone in our little motley crew has access to facial recognition software.” August stepped into the kitchen with wet hair and… oh God. No shirt. Or, well, not one that he was wearing—he was just pushing his arms into the sleeves, and Ricardo had about two seconds to take in the sight of flat abs above a low-slung waistband that clung to narrow hips. The treasure trail, the odd scars, the smooth contours—and then it was gone as August tugged a slightly oversized gray Henley into place. Mercifully oblivious to Ricardo’s momentary ogling, August grinned smugly as he smoothed the shirt. “Fortunately, in addition to being graced with my company, you two are in luck, because I do have access to facial recognition software.”
“What?” Ricardo sputtered. “How in the world do you have access to that?”
August pushed out a breath through his nose and rolled his eyes. “Uh, because I went through perfectly legal channels, got certified, purchased a license, and have—”
“Uh-huh.”
August smirked. “Okay, I hacked in. But the bottom line is, I’ve got access. So assuming our mystery man isn’t someone who uses his face pic on Grindr or dated Ricky for some reason, I’ll run it through, and we’ll see if we get a match.”
Heidi was quite obviously suppressing a laugh, which annoyed Ricardo even more.
Don’t encourage him, he wanted to growl. But he didn’t, because that would only encourage him.
“Maybe the more pressing question,” he said as evenly as he could, “is where do you have access? Because it doesn’t seem wise to swing by your house to pick up a few things?”
That stopped August’s smarmy self-satisfaction in its tracks, and he grimaced. “Yeah. About that.”
Ricardo groaned. He paused to quickly check the water, which hadn’t yet boiled. Facing August again, he asked, “So, how do we get access?”
“We?” August’s smile came back. “I’m so glad you’re volunteering to come with me. Because we’re gonna have to make a trip back to my place.”
“You mean…the one with the moat that’s basically a James Bond set with all the booby traps already sprung?”
“Well, they’re not all sprung.” August shrugged. “But yeah.”
Heidi glanced back and forth between them. “Do I even want to know?”
August opened his mouth, probably ready to tell her all about his ingenious fortress of batshittery, but Ricardo quickly said, “No. You don’t. And it’s probably best if you stay here while August…” He paused, then sighed. “While we go retrieve his computer.”
Her lips quirked. “Yeah, as much fun as it would probably be to watch the two of you flirt your way through an operation, I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“Ooh, you hear that, Ricky?” August winked at Ricardo. “We’ll be in my house with all kinds of privacy.”
Heidi smothered a laugh.
Ricardo rolled his eyes again.
August gestured past him. “Darling, I think your water’s boiling.”
So it was.
And though he mentally let himself entertain the idea of pouring it over August’s head, he just sighed, reached into a cabinet, and pulled out a box of pasta noodles.
Going back into August’s ridiculous house. Which was on the radar of whatever asshole wanted them dead. For a computer that, for all Ricardo knew, had been blown to smithereens during their Indiana Jones-style escape.
He couldn’t fucking wait.
Chapter 10
“Tell me why you didn’t grab this computer when we were at your house the first time?”
Ricardo sounded suspicious. August couldn’t really fault him for that—the man needed to play to his strengths, after all, and he was excellent at being suspicious. Also, he might have a little, tiny, itsy bitsy point. Or he would, if it was that