The drive is long, but the alpine scenery is stunning. High, white-capped mountain peaks follow me around every turn as I make my way towhere-the-fuck-am-IColorado.
I arrive midday, so there’s still plenty of light to burn. I set up the suite—if you can even call it that. It’s more like an exaggerated hotel room—the way I need, keeping the shades drawn just enough to peek through with the chairs situated in front of the two windows. I order room service, make myself comfortable, and start my search for a needle in a haystack.
It’s been three days, and there’s been no sign of Benjamin fucking Sabatino.
This is what happens when Regina gives me next to no information. I’ve canvassed the town. Staked out the local post office, diner, grocery store, and pharmacy. Nothing. I have peered through binoculars for hours scanning the townspeople coming and going. Seeing the same faces over and over until they are branded into my brain. But no Benjamin fucking Sabatino. I pick up the blurry photo and study it again, trying to find any clue in the background I can. The jacket he’s wearing is even so generic I’ve seen it on a hundred other men. Finding him should be cake in a town this small, but he’s proving to be more of a challenge than I originally anticipated.
“Are you a ghost?” I fan the picture and smile to myself. “I’ll find you even if you are.” I drop the photo back on the coffee table as my stomach rumbles. I’ve been holed up in this hotel room all day. I need some fresh air—I glance over at the six-hour old, half-eaten hamburger—and some fresh food.
Maybe a change of scenery and a strong drink will give me some new perspective and refresh my eyes. Selfishly, I wish Claudia was here. At least then I would have someone to go out with. For a split-second I consider buying her a plane ticket, but reality kicks me in the butt and reminds me why I’m really here. It’s not for a vacation, it’s for an assassination.
I take a long, hot shower, throw a little makeup on, and just for the fuck of it, smear my lips with some hooker-red lipstick. Benny would have a cow. He liked me fresh-faced. No bold colors overshadowing my natural beauty. That’s what he used to say. But he’s not here anymore.
I wind my hair into a high, tight bun, lace up my snow boots, and throw on the heavy winter jacket. Lastly, I slip one of my small throwing knives into my back pocket. Mainly out of habit.
I’m taking a trip to the islands after this hit, and Claudia is coming with me. I hate all the fucking layers.
The small hotel is nice, but nothing extravagant. The lobby reminds me of someone’s living room with the roaring fire, wing-backed chairs and couches situated around it. There’s even pictures of wildlife on the walls. Hand-painted portraits of elk and deer and snow rabbit’s.
“Excuse me,” I get the attention of the receptionist behind the desk. “Can you recommend some place to eat close by?” The woman with long, black hair and creases around her eyes smiles. She seems genuine enough.
“Are you in the mood for anything particular?”
“Just someplace I can get a strong drink and something other than a hamburger.”
She laughs. “You’ll want to go to McDevon’s. Great microbrews, but the crowd can get a little iffy in the evening hours.”
Iffy?“Sounds like my kind of place. Thanks.” I shove my hands in my pockets and head out to the truck.
McDevon’s is a seven-minute drive away from the hotel, located just off the main road. From the outside, it looks like an overgrown log cabin, and the only sign is a license plate stuck to the front door. I hope the receptionist was right about the iffy crowd, because I wouldn’t mind finding some trouble. Ideally in the form of a hot, drunk local looking to get laid.
I open the door just wide enough so I can slip through. I’m not one to make an entrance. Walk soft and carry a big stick and all. I survey the inside of the establishment. Lots of locals, it looks like. Hopefully, I won’t stick out too much, but we’ll see. Scanning the bar for a seat, my heart jumps when my eyes land on a particular patron. I walk around the long, rectangular bar slowly as if making my way to the bathroom. Spying behind two burly men in ugly flannel Ifinallyfind my target. Benjamin fucking Sabatino. Of all the bars in all the world . . .
I continue my trek around the room, attempting to draw as little attention to myself as possible as I close in on the man I’ve been searching for. Without his jacket on he doesn’t seem as big, but he’s still large, with broad shoulders and thick arms. His hair is tucked behind his ears just like in the picture, but in person it’s shiny and a pretty chestnut brown. His beard could use a trim. Facial hair has never done anything for me. After surveying him for a few moments, I notice he never takes his eyes off his beer, as if the amber liquid is holding him hostage.
What is he thinking about?
Why do you care?
You’ve finally found your mark. Do your job.
I can almost hear Regina sneer at me.
It’s not like I can take him out right here in a room full of people, but I can play with my prey a little before I kill it. I head in Benjamin’s direction, plotting a way to break the ice, when a man steps right in front of me.
“Hey there.” He gazes down at me with glassy eyes. “I noticed you over here, standing all alone, and I wondered if I could buy you a drink.”
“Um.” I barely acknowledge him as I keep my full attention on Benjamin, not wanting to lose sight of him. “No, thanks.” I try to step around the guy in Levi jeans and cowboy boots, but he blocks me once again.
“C’mon now, I’m just trying to be nice. I don’t bite.”
I don’t believe a word of his fake sincerity. He’s a predator in the flesh. I can tell by the way he’s eyeing me and his intimidating stance. He screams attacker.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” The guy sitting next to Benjamin gets up, providing me the perfect opportunity. I step to the left and then the right, throwing the guy off so I can get by.
“You’re not very nice!” the drunk yells as I swiftly walk away. I throw up the middle finger at him. He has no idea how not very nice I can be. He’s lucky I’m letting him live. I hop on the barstool like a cute little kitten and look over at Benjamin. “Do you know what’s good here?” I unzip my jacket, making myself comfortable before picking up the menu from the caddy in front of me. It takes him a second to realize who I’m talking to, looking around before his eyes finally land on me. I wasn’t expecting such an effect as his sparkly green irises draw me in with no preemptive warning.
Fuck, he’s hot. And a mark, I have to remind myself. A walking dead man with a target on his back.
