“Hello, I’m, I was, I’m looking for.”
I frowned toward my phone when I heard the weak voice, finding it weird, but giving it little thought. Obviously she had the wrong number. She hung up midway through her stuttering words. My expression held the same curiosity when the same number called back, twenty minutes later. I looked around the computer lab and walked away from my comrades, my inquisitiveness peaked, but I was unsure why.
Seeing one cup of coffee left in the pot, I walked toward it, claiming it with my Darwin’s theory coffee mug. “Hello, this is Oliver Edwards.”
“Um, yes. Hi, I’m Jaq.”
The quiet, shaky voice definitely not matching the guy name caught me off guard. “Jack?”
“Well, yes but with a Q.”
“What can I do for you, Jaq with a Q?”
“I’m not sure if I have the right guy. Ollie Prescott, that’s all I really have to go on.”
A brief memory touched my mind of my dad calling me Ollie as a boy. I hadn’t been Ollie in many years. Nonetheless, I asked, “What is it you need done?”
“I don’t want to get into trouble. How do I know you’re not a cop?”
My head jerked with a startled surprise, but I continued, curious of what illegal transaction she was interested in pursuing. “You don’t, but you are wasting my time. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, but first you have to tell me what you’re looking for.”
“Well, I, I, I’m looking for someone to like, like get rid of someone.”
I sputtered hot coffee from my lips when I choked on her words, not expecting that at all. Heroine or meth maybe, not that. “You want to hire a hitman? You want to kill someone?”
“Well, no. I want someone to kill me.”
I Pick You Page 37
