Wish Me Dead by Diane Nielsen

Author:Diane Nielsen [Nielsen, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781426979132
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Published: 2011-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 36

James watched Benny walk out the door, wanting to kill him. How dare he try to scare him by lying to him? What did he think he would gain by making such an outrageous statement? No one would dare to try to take him out. He was Jared James. He was a rich and important man. He was somebody. People would notice if he was gone or missing. Of course gone and missing was not what Barnhart was good at. Erased was what the report had said. He erased his targets. James just could not believe, would not believe, he was the reason Barnhart was in Vegas. How outrageous was that idea?

He paced and ranted, going back and forth across the room like a duck in a shooting gallery. Suddenly, in mid stride, James stopped in front of the big glass window showing the strip he had been admiring shortly before. A voice in his head that would not be denied screamed until he felt his head would explode. “It’s true, it’s all true. YOU'RE NEXT! Think, what are you going to do about this? You have been given one chance to beat Barnhart to the punch and save yourself. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” James repeated over and over. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t think.” All of a sudden James fell to the floor, face down and flat as a pancake. Oh my God, he thought, OH MY GOD. I’ve been walking in front of the window and I could have been shot. Just like in the movies, a bullet being fired from a long way off and coming through the window to splatter my head all over the walls.

Deciding he had to get away from the windows, Jared crawled across the floor, hugging the walls, looking like a crab, his arms and legs pulling and pushing, with his rear poking up as if it was suspended by wire from the ceiling. He made it to the corner of the room and sat with his back pressed tightly against the wall. Sweat dripped down his shirt collar and a dark stain was beginning to grow in his pants. Fear did funny things to people, making them cower, or in some, charge into the fray, having no plan, just reacting. It seemed James was in the first group. Weeping, shaking, and being unable to think straight, he sat where he was, not moving, not thinking, until the same little voice once again intruded.

“Get up, you coward. Get moving and make a plan. Make it a good one. Use the opportunity you have tomorrow night to your advantage. Barnhart does not suspect anything and if he shows at the opening, you could have someone get to him when the music is loud and the crowd is three sheets to the wind. No one would notice a man slumped in the corner, until it was too late to figure out who had done the deed.”

Yeah, yeah that sounded good.

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