Shadow Woman A Novel Page 0,123

hostage? No, of course not. Felice would have pulled her daughter off the street the moment she realized Xavier was a threat. “She’s under your protection?”

“Against her wishes, yes.”

“Let her go,” Al instructed.

“What should I tell the girl about her mother?” Again the voice was cool, detached. Al suspected that voice would have remained the same if he’d instructed Felice’s contact to dispose of the girl.

“Nothing. Just release her.” Soon enough Ashley would learn—everyone would learn—that Felice had been the victim of a violent carjacking. It would be easier to make her disappear, maybe even more satisfying to just wipe her off the face of the earth, but if she just vanished, that would leave too many unanswered questions. Her death would be thoroughly investigated; the team who’d been tasked with disposing of her body would have to do a stellar job. He didn’t doubt that they would, and Ashley would have closure.

Al returned the purse, sans burner cell, to the floorboard and tossed the keys into the driver’s seat. The cleaners would be here within half an hour to finish the job he’d started.

He didn’t intend to be here when they arrived.

Felice’s contact immediately called “Evan Clark,” hoping the man would answer. Not being able to reach him would be one thing; if the man did the job and there was no one to pay him, that was something else entirely, and definitely not good.

Clark didn’t answer. Depending on the situation he might have his phone silenced, or hell, he might be out taking a piss. A message would have to suffice, and it wasn’t one he wanted to leave in a voice mail. He sent a text message from a phone that would be in someone else’s Dumpster within the hour.

Abort, Felice’s contact typed. The client is dead.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Knowing someone was watching, and spotting that someone, were two different things. Crawling into position took over an hour, so slow and precise were his movements. Xavier knew where he would set up, if he were the one watching the house for someone like him to arrive, but there were several good options.

Felice commanded a very good salary. Like most people with money, she wanted space around her, which meant she lived in a neighborhood where the lots were measured in acres and the houses weren’t all that close together. It wasn’t the ritziest part of town, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to afford the acreage, but it was nice. Unfortunately, the big yard meant a lot of trees, a lot of landscaping, and a lot of places for concealment.

Any idiot would figure Xavier wasn’t going to walk up to the front door and knock. Therefore, surveillance should be looking for a clandestine entrance.

Even knowing that, he couldn’t spot the guy. The fucker was good. He’d chosen his spot well, and he wasn’t moving. Either that, or he’d fallen asleep.

Xavier had taken up position well back from the house, far enough back that the hired gun was almost definitely between him and the house. There was a light on in one downstairs room. Was she watching TV? Catching up on paperwork? He wondered if she had enough confidence in her hired gun that she could sleep.

The answer to that was, Felice had enough confidence in her own decisions that she would sleep, secure in the knowledge that she’d handled things.

The one light in the house, though, was a big, blinding glare in his night-vision goggles. He turned his head incrementally, taking five minutes to move an inch, because sure as hell the specialist would have night vision too, and movement could get him spotted as easily as it could the guy he was looking for.

Patience was the key. The shooter had been in place longer than he had, which meant he would get thirsty sooner, have to piss sooner. That was assuming anyone was here at all, that Al wasn’t playing mind games with him and had lured him here to set up a trap of his own. Xavier had always gone into any situation knowing it could be his last. Being aware had kept him alive so far—

There.

The man was practically dead ahead, not ten yards in front of Xavier. The only thing that had given him away was a not-quite-slow-enough movement of his head as he surveyed the property. He’d set up at least a third farther back from the property than Xavier had expected. Shit, at least he had to admire the man’s tactics. This wasn’t