Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents #7)(18)
Author: Cynthia Eden

He was there to kill. Not to jog.

The door opened. William “Billy” Harris stood there, his eyes wide. “Who the hell are you?” Billy demanded. “What do you want?”

Ah, even his old mentor didn’t recognize him. It was amazing how time—and a little surgery—could change a man. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card. “I’m here to finish our business.”

Billy’s eyes widened. “Jack?”

Billy had been the one to first give him that moniker. They’d been playing cards. The pot had been up to three hundred dollars. Billy had been holding three tens.

But I held all the Jacks.

He smiled and stepped forward. Billy immediately fell back. Jack closed the door. There was only so much that he wanted the nosy neighbor to see.

“I…I can’t believe you answered my email,” Billy said as he ran a shaking hand over his head. Billy hadn’t aged so well. He’d once been a fierce soldier, a leader.

Now his hands shook and his shoulders slumped. The paunch near his middle said the guy didn’t exactly keep up his old exercise routine.

Ah, Billy, I expected more from you.

“It was a shot in the dark,” Billy muttered. “But I was desperate.”

Desperate men would do anything.

Jack shrugged. “I was due a visit back here.” Rachel waited here. As did other, new business. Lately, it seemed that Jack’s services were in particularly high demand.

Soon I’ll move on to my next target. A very big kill. Perhaps the most challenging one of his career.

Yet for now, he had to take care of his current payday and his prey. “You know why I’m here, Billy. I did my part, and you owe me.”

Billy nodded quickly. “I’ll just go get the rest of your cash.”

Normally, Jack didn’t conduct his transactions in person. For Billy, he’d made a special exception. He’d let the guy wire half of the payment to him, the upfront money. And Jack had agreed to collect the remainder due in D.C. after the kill had been completed.

Silently, he followed Billy down the narrow hallway.

He knew Billy very well. After all, Billy had been the one to turn him on to this line of work.

The government trained us to kill. Why not use our skills? They’re just going to dump us, to forget us. I say we make sure no one can ever forget just who we are!

Billy had been drunk at the time and furious over a demotion.

Jack hadn’t been drunk. He’d been fully aware. He’d seen an opportunity. He’d taken it.

I get to pick my kills now. And I get paid for it.

The money had never been sweeter.

Billy stood in front of his wall safe. He spun the dial, and it snicked open. The cash was in there.

So was a gun.

Jack could see the edge of the weapon. And Billy, well, the fool was reaching for it.

And that’s one of the reasons why you are my prey today.

Before Billy could swing around with that gun, Jack grabbed the man, and he slammed Billy’s head into the side of the safe. “Wrong move,” Jack whispered. Then he snatched up the gun.

So convenient…it even had a silencer attached.

Billy slumped to the floor. Jack put the gun to his head. “Did you truly think you were going to be able to double-cross me?”

Billy had busted his lip when he’d careened into the safe. Blood dripped from the wound.

“I’ve been at this game a long time now. You aren’t the first to have this idiotic idea.” Jack shrugged. “But guess what happens to people who try to play me.” His fingers tightened around the trigger.

Billy shook his head, frantic. “I wasn’t going to shoot you! It was just for protection, just in case—”

“In case a killer came calling?” He wasn’t in the mood to waste any more time. “Goodbye, Billy.”

“No!”

Just as Billy screamed, a loud pounding echoed through the house—a pounding against the front door of Billy’s home.

Billy’s eyes bulged. “Help me!” he screamed as he lunged to the side. “Help—”

Jack fired.

Chapter Four

“Help me!”

Dylan’s gaze jerked to meet Rachel’s when he heard the scream, then they moved as one, and they kicked in the door to William Harris’s home.

Dylan heard the thud of footsteps, running fast and to the left, going toward the back of the house. He raced ahead, following that sound, and he nearly tripped over the body on the floor.

One glance and he knew it was William Harris. The guy looked just like the photo that had been sent from the EOD. Only in that photo, William hadn’t been bleeding from a gushing wound in his chest.

Rachel knelt on the floor, moving in close beside the injured man. Dylan heard her calling for backup and ordering an ambulance to the address.

Dylan didn’t think an ambulance would be able to do much good. William’s shirt was soaking with blood before his eyes.

“Tried to…get away…” William’s voice rasped out. “Still shot me…chest…not…head…”

Dylan pinned Rachel with his stare. “You stay with him.”

Her eyes widened. “Dylan, you can’t—”

He couldn’t let Jack get away. Dylan lunged toward the back of the house. Jack only had a lead of a few minutes.

Dylan’s hand slapped against the back door, and the old wood swung open. Dylan jumped onto the narrow patio. His gaze swept to the left.

He saw a man scaling a fence. Tall, broad shoulders, wearing a baseball cap, jogging shorts and a sweatshirt.

And gloves.

Dylan knew he was looking at Jack. “Stop!” Dylan yelled.

Of course, the guy didn’t slow down for a second. He heaved over the edge of the fence and ran.

Swearing, Dylan pumped his legs and headed for the tall chain-link fence.

* * *

“LOOK AT ME,” Rachel said as William Harris’s blood coated her fingers. The wound was bad. So very bad. The ambulance was en route, but Rachel didn’t think it was going to arrive in time.

William blinked. His face was already ashen.

“Tell me who did this to you.” Because he didn’t have much time left to talk. He was their main lead right then. They needed William to hang on.

His throat worked, but no words came from his mouth.

“We know you hired him to kill Patterson. But he turned on you, didn’t he?” She’d seen the safe. Its door still hung open. “What if he decides to turn on your son, too? Do you want Chris to die?” It was the only card she had to play.