Page 13 of Once a Killer

“Okay,” she said slowly. “What kind of car do you have?”

“It’s a Ford Expedition SUV.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. Probably to say something about people who drove huge, gas-guzzling SUV’s like his. “I bought it after the last almost-accident and I had it reinforced. Steel panels in the doors and beneath the hood. On the back of the vehicle. In the roof. It’s heavy as shit, and it sucks down an obscene amount of gas. But it will keep me --us-- safe in a crash.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Was she going to give him shit now about his car, too?

Finally she said, “Wow. Must feel like you’re driving a tank.”

He shrugged. Exhaled with relief at her surrender. “It does. But it’s worth it.”

“Let’s take a look at this beast of yours.”

He unlocked the back door, waited for her to exit the apartment, then locked it up again. She wore a suit jacket, and her hand hovered near her left shoulder. Finally she turned to him. “I’m going down the stairs first. You wait up here until I give you the all-clear.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She frowned at him. “This isn’t a joke, Jameson. Someone could be waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready to pop you when you walk past. That’s why I always go first.”

His gaze darted to his back yard. The first-floor couple had already put in their vegetable garden, and the plants were still tiny, fragile green shoots. No one would associate a garden with a waiting assassin.

Which was probably the point.

He clenched his teeth for a moment. Sighed. “Fine. I’ll wait up here. If I hear gunshots, I’ll call the police.”

“Go into your house first. Lock the door.Thencall the police,” she said as she started down the stairs without looking at him again.

He never heard her footsteps on the wooden stairs. When the faint, delicate swirls of air stopped, he started for the first stair. But she hadn’t called to him with the all-clear yet. What was happening at the bottom of the stairs? Had someone been waiting for him? Was she taking care of it? Or had he taken care of Bree?

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably less than a minute, she called, “Come on down, Jameson.”

Felt like he was being welcomed to a game show. But the stakes were a lot higher than a trip or a washing machine.

He clattered down the stairs and found Bree waiting at the bottom. She began walking toward the garage, her head on a swivel. Looking for trouble? For something out of place? He had no idea, but her vigilance made him feel… safer.

When they got to the garage, she asked, “Anyone else park in here?”

“Nope. Just me. I told my tenants I have a workshop in here. That’s why they can’t use it.”

She frowned as she studied him. “Yourtenants? You own the building?”

“I do.”

“Well, shit,” she said.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Title records can be searched. It would be way too easy for someone to find out that you own this place. It would give them another angle to attack you.”

He snorted. “I wasn’t born yesterday,” he said. “The building title is in the name of a corporation I set up, then I ran it through several dummy corporations. It wouldn’t be impossible to figure out that I own the place, but it would take a lot of time, research and resources. The car is owned by a different corporation.”

“Okay,” she said, but she frowned, popping two lines above her nose, as if she were calculating the odds of someone actually figuring it out. “I’ll have Mel look into it. See if she can make it even more difficult to find. When you have a chance, you can give me the corporations’ names and where they’re registered.”

“I can do that.”

Before she opened the garage door, she stared up at him for a long moment. “You’ve done a good job trying to protect yourself,” she finally said. “Covered a lot of the bases. But we can’t relax. Can’t take your situation lightly.”

She pointed to the yard, nodded when he moved away from the door. Then her fingers whitened on her gun and she reached for the garage door. Wiggled her fingers for a moment, then turned the doorknob and shoved the door open.

Nothing happened. No sounds. No movements. After a few seconds, she reached in and found the light switch. Flicked it on. Stepped into the garage, and he followed her.