THREE

HIRE A HITMAN

Alex Spencer glanced up from his pint as the bell in the Golden Bull jingled over the door. He sat up and paid attention when a drenched blonde burst in wearing only a pair of tight blue jeans and a thin blue camisole, which was almost transparent now that it was wet.

He sensed he wasn’t the only man in the room watching her as she hurried toward the bar.

Her presence hit him like a punch in the gut. Even though she was soaking wet and shivering, the sight of her caused his skin to heat up. She looked like a good hug would warm her up, and he was more than willing to provide her with one.

He stared at the wisps of wet blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face as she quickly scanned the room, her big green eyes skimming over the dark corner where he was sitting.

Who the hell is she, and what’s she doing in here?

Out of place didn’t even cover it. There was only one type of women who entered this bar, wives of the patrons, who were usually over fifty and liked to wear lot of animal print and garish jewelry.

If she’s someone’s wife, he’s a lucky bastard, he thought as he scanned her from head to toe.

She was about five-foot-eight with long, shapely legs and a tiny waist. Everything about her was sleek and graceful, he noted as she spoke to the barman.

He glanced at her hand, a smile forming on his face when he found no evidence of a wedding ring. Then he shook his head.

You’re supposed to be working on this case.

He glanced down at the file on the table with a sigh. It was a dull surveillance case that his uncle Bill had left behind when he jetted off to Florida.

Alex tried to ignore the girl and concentrate on the file, but he found himself listening to her conversation with the barman instead.

“Yeah, I don’t suppose you know where I can find a hitman, do you?”

Alex sat bolt upright, shooting a startled glance at her.

 Is she for real?

“Whatcha need someone like that fer?” Marv frowned at her from behind the bar.

Alex smiled. Marv was great. He took everything in his stride. For a grumpy old man, he’d yet to display any surprise or emotion at all in the few years Alex had known him. He was always gruff and spoke plainly about any subject, no matter how sensitive it might be.

“I need someone to find and kill Meyer.” Even though the girl muttered it under her breath, Alex could feel the atmosphere in the room tense. This place was home to some lowlifes. They all knew about Meyer’s gang.

Losing any interest in his surveillance case, he drained his glass, giving the girl at the bar his full attention. She was putting herself in a lot of danger, coming to a place like this and mouthing off about killing a member of the largest crime family in Manchester.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the thugs at the center table stand up as he drained his glass.

Shit.

Alex quickly stood up and strode over to the bar, standing beside the girl. He nodded at Marv. “Same again, mate.”

Marv nodded, taking his empty glass and wandering over to the beer pump.

“I might be able to help,” Alex said quietly to the girl.

She turned to face him with wide eyes.

He inhaled, catching a hint of jasmine and lilies. He studied her, trying to decide why she was even in a place like this. Her skin was smooth and lightly tanned, and her wet clothes clung to every curve of her body. She was beautiful and natural. There was no fake Prada bag, no garish make-up. She didn’t belong here at all.

“Seriously?” she asked as Marv slammed his pint on the bar, sloshing frothy lager onto the damp beer mat.

“Yeah, come on.” He picked up his drink and motioned for her to join him at his table.

She studied him for a moment before nodding and walking toward the booth at the back of the room.

He winked at Marv before following the girl.

As he approached his table, he shot a warning glance at the thug in the center of the room. In this neighborhood, a glance was all it took to show an emotion. The thug scowled, and Alex narrowed his eyes.

She’s mine, dickhead.

After a moment, the thug shrugged and sat back down.

Once the girl was seated, he took the chair opposite her. He quickly closed the open file on the table and slipped it back into his bag, but not before he caught her scanning the contents of it.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Isabelle Mars—er, Jones.” She nervously glanced around the dark booth.

She’s bloody awful at lying.

“Right,” he said. “Well, Isabelle, I don’t know what you think you’re looking for here, but this is not the place to be shouting out the name Meyer. I don’t think this is somewhere you want to be.” He shot her a warning glance. Someone had to warn her not to be stupid. She’d be lucky if she didn’t already have a target on her back.

“Well, thanks for the advice, but you’ve just confirmed that this is exactly where I want to be. Are you a contract killer or not?” she asked, lowering her voice to whisper.

“What the hell do you need a cleaner for?” He waited, curious to hear what she’d say.

“I’ll pay the going rate,” she said.

“I think I’ll need a bit more information than that, sweetheart.” He sat back, studying her as he folded his arms. She was about his age, no older than twenty. She had a slight accent, but mostly spoke as if she grew up in one of the richer areas of the city. Judging by the badge on her bag, she was a student at Manchester University.

She narrowed her eyes. “Meyer killed my mother. The police did nothing about it. I want justice.”

“Cleaners don’t deliver justice. They clean up other people’s messes.” He shook his head. “You need to go back to whatever happy-shit life you came from and find another way if you’re looking for justice. We don’t sell justice here.”

“I’ll pay whatever you ask.” There was a pleading tone in her voice. She sounded desperate.

A part of him wanted to help her, but what she was looking for would only put her in more danger. There was only one way to help her. He needed to kill any hopes she had. “Alright, but for that kind of hit, we’re talking a high price.”

She gulped. “How high?”

He scanned her worn jeans and out-of-date cell phone. She wasn’t loaded. “At least a hundred grand, more if there are complications.”

She lowered her eyes to the table and twisted her Coke glass between her fingers. “Is there some kind of payment plan for that?”

He rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a mortgage, honey. You get what you pay for up front.”

“What can I get for three grand?”

He laughed. “A babysitter.”

She scowled at him, jumping out of her seat. “I think I can get a better deal elsewhere.”

“Good luck with that.” He smirked at her. Inside his stomach muscles had knotted up. She could get a better deal elsewhere, but he didn’t want her to get a deal at all. She was looking for trouble, and she was all too likely to find it.

She glared at him. “I’ll find someone to take out Meyer for me, don’t you worry about it.” Her voice echoed around the room before she turned on her heel and stormed out of the pub, slamming the door behind her. The bell jingled again.

Alex groaned as she left. “Did you have to shout that so loudly?” he muttered as three of the thugs at the center table stood up and left the bar straight after her.

“Shit.” He jumped up, grabbing his bag as he followed them. He gave Marv a nod as he headed for the exit.

“I’ll just stick all that on your uncle’s tab then, shall I?” Marv called after him.

“Er, yeah.” Alex nodded as he hurried out of the pub. His uncle probably wouldn’t notice whose beer he was paying for. He hadn’t noticed that Alex had moved into his empty apartment yet. He’d kick his ass when he did notice, but hopefully Alex would have completed a paying job before that happened.

He’ll kill me if I can’t prove I’m worth the hassle.

He shrugged as he left the pub. He wasn’t prone to worrying about tomorrow. In his experience, tomorrow usually took care of itself. Right now, was the only thing that people needed to worry about.

Like, right now, Isabelle just slapped a target on her back.

He scanned the street outside, instantly spotting her hurrying away. She appeared to be completely unaware that she had one of the skin-headed thugs tailing her.

Great.

He hurried after them, the muscles in his arms tensing as he clenched his hands into fists.

I guess I’m doing a job for her after all.

Coming Soon…