Edge of Sight by Roxanne St-Claire

Author:Roxanne St-Claire [St-Claire, Roxanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2010-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

When the gold 300E pulled up to Shawkins’s house, the Czar smiled to himself in congratulations. Damn, he was good. He had had a hunch that she’d go tracking him down at work after he sent that text, and he was right about the guy he’d seen her with at the police station. Muscle. Muscle in an old-school Mercedes.

And here she was, bringing Billy Shawkins home exactly as he hoped she would.Of course, he hoped she’d get out of the car, go inside for coffee, and let him climb in the back to wait and blow both her and her bodyguard’s brains out when she returned. And make it look like Bad Billy had done the deed. Who’d believe that ex-con anyway? It would have been an open and shut case. Of course, Shawkins had been harboring hatred for years and finally lost it—that bitch put him in prison for ten years for a crime he didn’t commit.

It would have been nice and easy. But Levon’s life was just never that easy.

However, this new wrinkle was tempting his trigger finger. If that big ugly guy with the patch stood out there and shot the shit with the ex-con any longer, Levon could fire from where he sat, a few driveways away. Bang. One to Samantha’s brain while she climbed out of the backseat and got into the front.

But he couldn’t take a chance with that guy. No doubt he was carrying, and his posture screamed military even if his hair didn’t. Definitely military, with the war wound to prove it.

Levon smiled, the thought reminding him of his favorite song. Levon wears his war wound like a…

Levon stopped humming when the old man started toward the house, watching as Beauty and the Beast talked, then backed out. Should he just shoot now? Bodyguard would have to tend her, and Levon could get away. But, still, it was sloppy. And she might not die.

Anyway, that approach was kind of sophomoric. The same kind of shit they were attempting with that bogus drive-by in Somerville last night. He had to do this the right way, and that meant he had to be a little patient and a lot creative.

They’d go right by him now, back the way they came. Then he’d pull out, just like any other person leaving their driveway, and keep a good long distance to follow.

It was time to find out where Samantha Fairchild was spending her nights.

But, son of a bitch, the Mercedes went the other direction. That was a dead end. He waited for them to turn around, but the gold sedan disappeared around the corner, and he lost sight of it completely.

God damn it, there was a way out back there. Not on any GPS, and he’d checked three. He gunned it out of the driveway, past Billy’s house, cruising to the top of a hill that was paved but hadn’t seen an asphalt truck in a long time. It was a steep pitch, too, probably a bear in the winter.

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