The Rogue Master: An RJ Rox Thriller (The RJ Rox Thrillers Book 3) by Jo McCready

Author:Jo McCready [McCready, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The man bent to blow on the embers that glowed on the balled-up newspaper at the foot of a small pile of wood. He watched the flame grow until it was hungry for more fuel and then inserted three equal-sized logs using blackened tongs that had come with the cottage he’d bought all those decades before. The place had suited his purposes then, as it did now. Remote, solid, and somehow homey, it had provided him with the comfort he had needed back then. The seclusion had been a perfect setting for him to lick his wounds and prepare for the hell that would rain down on him.

He walked the few short steps to the picture window at the front of the building to check the weather, as he did every morning. The clouds had eased since the previous day; a clear view meant contact with the outside world—not always a good thing in his experience but needs must. The open sky would also give his solar cells a chance to send juice to his backup battery. The petrol generator was a bitch to keep supplied with fuel, even for the limited time he spent there.

He shuffled over to his desk and turned on the satellite modem. As he waited for his computer to power up, he opened a cupboard, took out a shallow blue-and-white china bowl, and filled it with some salted licorice he had been rationing until he could get back to the mainland.

He settled into the wooden chair that creaked under his weight, an old and threadbare throw cushion providing little comfort from the hard seat. As he chewed on a piece of black candy, he logged in to the site he used to communicate with clients.

A lone message awaited him. It suited him better this way. Better to provide an exclusive service to a small number of clients. There was less chance of discovery, and it also meant he was able to charge accordingly for his unique set of skills.

He picked at the licorice gum stuck in his teeth, scrapping a long sliver out with his nail and sucking it back off his finger as he scrutinized the text in front of him. He’d check them out, as he did with each client before agreeing to a new job. Trying a trace was useless, but he did it, nonetheless. If they had any sense, they’d have covered their tracks, if not, then he’d want nothing to do with them anyway. Untraceable—the first basic step in his decision to take or leave a job was complete.

Opening a stiff drawer in the wooden desk, he brought out a battered leather notebook, searched for the current date, then ran his finger down the page. There was an event at Christie’s in London he could use. It was close enough. It would do.

He typed in the information, then logged off and switched off the power-draining modem.

If he’d checked the site ten minutes before, he would have never started the fire that he now looked at in annoyance over his shoulder.

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