Page 45 of The Ghost Assassin

“You were in New York when Murphy died and here when she died. You want to explain that to me?”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“Will you take a lie detector test?”

“What good would that do? I’m trained to beat the test.”

He’s a trained liar. That pretty much sums up why he’s on the suspect list.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lilah

Ellis and his proclamation that he knows how to beat a lie detector test, which basically declares himself a professional liar, is not comment-worthy. Sometimes the most impact comes from what you don’t say. He knows he’s on my radar, and if he’s guilty, he’ll feel my suspicion to his bones and contemplate some stupid shit that will blow back on him, not me.

“Tell them to come get the body,” I say, because the idea that Marie Rodriguez is just lying on the floor like that for no good reason does not sit well with me. Every once in a while, I remind myself I have a human side. “I’m going to assume you’ve alerted the directors who’ve managed to live through today they might be next?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“Of course,” I say, and leave him there in the office.

I search the kitchen and living areas with little to show for my efforts, and no sign of Ellis, whatever that means. Maybe he doesn’t need to search the place. He knows what is here and he’s simply monitoring my efforts.

I climb the stairs in search of the master bedroom, which is always where people keep their secrets and stories, ready to call the dark web a bunch of meaningless crap. The only thing that stops me from doing so is all ideas are good ideas when it stirs an investigative direction. And where there is smoke, there is fire. There’s denial going on when assassins like to claim the job because it’s cred for new, high-paying gigs. If no one’s claiming the job, it lends to the idea of someone new to the masses.

To me, it supports my theory that these are revenge killings, not contract hires.

There are plenty of people, including Ellis and Adams, with the skills to kill at this level of competence. Ellis was a Navy SEAL and Adams was ex-military, special ops. They both know covert actions in a hands-on way.

The main bedroom is to the right and decorated rather coldly. Marie was not a girly woman, nor one to gather useless belongings. Her bed set is basic navy. Her décor is nonexistent. Her possessions include clothes and basic necessities and not much more. A lot like Murphy. If I believed this was a serial killer, I’d start to profile these victims as no-nonsense authority figures, but I don’t think that’s what this is about at all.

The nightstand is empty, but I start digging around the bed and bingo, I locate what appears to be a journal in between the mattress and box spring. I’m not sure how forensics missed this, but they were clearly rushed, and I’m glad they did, because now it’s mine. I thumb through what appears to be notes related to official business by date, but random pages are torn out.

I find it hard to believe the killer hunted down this journal, found the pages to remove that incriminated him or her, and then shoved it back in between the mattresses. Whoever killed Director Rodriguez did it and got out. I don’t know if those pages matter but considering it seems as if she detailed each day’s activities, maybe as a way to protect herself or testify in court if needed, those pages become more interesting. I bag the journal and once again defy the rules by stuffing it into my field bag.

My cellphone rings with Tic Tac’s normal number. I answer with, “Feeling brave, I see.”

“It’s Rich.”

I curse under my breath. “Why are you calling me?”

“I did some digging on Adams. No one really witnessed him do anything that fits the stories. I can’t get a real read on the story at all.”

“Did you get a read on Kane? Because that bullshit you pulled was not smart.”

“Because you married a killer?”

“You’re such a child, Rich.”

“So, I guess it was just sex, right? I fucked you like a champion, right? Did you tell him that?”

“You are getting creepy, Rich. How did I not see what a crazy stalker you are?”

“Are you serious, Lilah? He’s a kingpin and you’re calling me creepy? You’re such a bitch.”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me. I’m going to arrange a private flight for Tic Tac to come to me.” I hang up on him and call Kit.

“Lilah. Is there a problem?”

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