Page 106 of Fearless Sinner

“I know.”

“Olivia is safe. Let me worry about my wife.” He places emphasis on the word wife as if to remind me that Olivia is under his care now.

“Alright. I hear you.”

Jaxon holds up a memory stick. “This is the recording from the surveillance I set up in the hotel room. We’ve watched it already, but I thought we could go over it together quickly. We were also able to find a possible lead.”

“What?”

Jaxon looks at Dante, who takes over. “One of my lookouts found the place we think Harlan and Lance relocated to when they left New Jersey. I sent my men there to check it out and they found another note.” Dante pulls it out from his pocket and hands it to me.

It’s got the fucking smiling face with the eyes crossed out, along with the words Sorry I missed you.

“Motherfucker.” So much for my plans to smoke him out. I’d say that I have, but now he’s playing chicken with me to see who’s the bravest of them all.

“It’s like playing games with the Joker. He’s not just one step ahead, he knows how to put you ten places backwards. I say we should still check the place out.”

“I’ll do that tomorrow.” This shows I need to be on the streets.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks. Let’s go to my office.”

We head there and I set up the flat screen TV on my wall to watch the recording.

I press Play, and the footage starts. Harlan walks into the hotel room and places a bag down.

It’s so strange to see him on here after so many weeks of looking for him. What’s stranger is seeing him in his final moments before his life was taken away from him.

I feel that regret again as I stare at him. He has a trusting face and looks like the kind of guy who would be more at home in a library or an accountancy firm. He doesn’t look like the backstabbing bastard who helped my biggest enemy screw with me.

As he opens the bag, a knock sounds on the door. When he opens it, two masked men wearing full black rush in. They’re both tall, but one is taller than the other.

The tallest one throws a punch in his face so hard that Harlan drops to the floor. Then he cowers like the coward he is. I’ve never known him to be a fighter. At least I was right about that.

The tall guy kicks him in the stomach repeatedly while Harlan begs him to stop.

“YA sdelal s vami,” the other guy says in Russian. Those words translate to ‘I’m done with you.’ I realize that’s fucking Lance Polinsky. But that’s not all—I think I recognize his voice.

“No, please. Don’t kill me. I did everything you said,” Harlan cries, but before he can even attempt to get up, Lance pulls out his gun and shoots him right in the head.

Harlan’s body shuts down as if it’s been switched off. He doesn’t even twitch. He just stops moving. Stops living.

Lance moves closer to Harlan and I keep my eyes glued to him. His movements and build seem familiar now, too. Very, very familiar.

I know this fucker. But who is he? And where the hell do I know him from?

He places the note—like a fucking calling card—on Harlan’s body, then he and the taller guy leave the room.

“Play the recording back to when Lance first spoke,” I ask Virgo because he’s next to me.

He rewinds the recording and I get up, moving closer to the TV.

“You recognize something,” Dante notes.

“His voice and…him. I know this guy.”

I narrow my eyes as I stare at the screen and watch the replay. I try to pick out the timbre of his voice and analyze his movements a little more.

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