Hired Killer (Biscayne Bay Book 1)

by Deborah Brown

  HIRED KILLER

  BISCAYNE BAY SERIES

  BOOK 1

  DEBORAH BROWN

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all materials in this book.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  HIRED KILLER

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2021 Deborah Brown

  Kindle Edition

  Cover: Natasha Brown

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Excerpt from Not Guilty

  Other Titles by Deborah Brown

  About the Author

  HIRED KILLER

  Chapter One

  I discreetly checked my watch. Right on time.

  Grey Walker entered the coffee shop like he did every morning at this time. He scanned every inch of the interior as he moved up to the counter and placed his order. Whatever he said to the young barista, she giggled and blushed.

  The man was enormous, well over six feet. He filled out his jeans, his biceps pushing against his t-shirt; not an inch of fat on his muscled frame. There was a sharp intelligence in his deep blue eyes.

  Little did he know…

  I waited impatiently for him to take his usual seat on the outside patio. The man was always aware of his surroundings, allowing nothing to happen that he didn’t see.

  I’d carefully chosen the red, knee-length, V-necked dress with the deep slit to show off my best assets and bronzed Florida tan.

  He grabbed his drink and moved outside. For a man his size, he was understated and had the ability to fit in. I didn’t want to be intrigued by this man, but it was too late for that.

  I picked up my coffee, cold by now, and sucked in a deep breath to calm my jitters as I walked over. I needed to unleash the performance of a lifetime. “Is this seat taken?”

  * * *

  The occasional grunt cut through my reverie. I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. Even though less than twenty-four hours had passed, my nerves had only calmed slightly. I turned and faced the man handcuffed to the bed behind me.

  Grey’s lashes fluttered. He cautiously looked around, and then his eyes snapped open. “What the devil?” he growled, jerking at the handcuff on his right wrist, the other end attached to the bedpost. He found it unforgiving, as evidenced by his wince. His blue eyes, frigid as the Atlantic, settled on me. “You…” He yanked hard and hissed. Despite the pain, he ratcheted up his futile attempt to get away.

  I rounded the bed and slapped his forearm. “Stop before you bruise your wrist or, worse, scratch up my brass bedframe. It’s an antique.” I licked my finger and polished the finish.

  His free arm flew out, fingers wrapping around the strands of my shoulder-length strawberry blond hair and forcing me face to face with him, our noses within a breath of touching. Those lips. So close. I’d had a fantasy or two about them already. I forced myself to maintain eye contact and keep my naughty thoughts in check.

  “The last I remember, you came on to me at a coffee joint in Orlando. We talked, then walked out together. You tripped, and being a gentleman—most of the time, anyway—I offered to help you to your car and…” Grey looked around the room. Staring out the sliding pocket doors, he took in the view of the waters of Biscayne Bay. He tightened his hold.

  “Ouch.” To my surprise, he untangled his fingers giving one last tug on the ends of my hair. “This is the first time I’ve…”

  “Kidnapped is the word you’re looking for, and it’s a felony,” he said in a stern tone.

  “You listen to me, Grey Walker.” I matched his tone, not certain where to begin. I saved your life seemed a bit abrupt.

  He snorted, cutting me off. “One of us is a nutjob, and it isn’t me.”

  “That’s not very nice.” Although even I had to admit he had a point. “Would you like some water… anything?”

  “What I’d like…” He jerked on his wrist and sucked in a breath. His annoyance increased, and he grabbed a fistful of my hair again and brought my lips crashing against his.

  Oh, what the heck! If this was to be my only kiss, I wanted it to be a good one. The chemistry exploded between us as his lips moved over mine. I put everything into it and kissed him back.

  Grey intensified the kiss and just as abruptly jerked back, his face a riot of emotions, his dark hair stuck on end. I traced his morning scruff, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Ransom? What? Let’s make a deal before I lose all feeling in my wrist.”

  I sat up. “You whine worse than a girl.”

  He lurched straight up and grabbed the back of my shirt. “You’re not going anywhere until I find out what’s going on.”

  The bedroom door flew open. In bounced Avery English, investment guru and one of my two best friends. I’d trust her with my life. She was in jeans, her bare feet sliding across the wood floor and brown hair swinging around her shoulders. Her glasses looked more ridiculous than usual. She collected frames, the uglier the better, even though she had perfect vision. “Cutie’s awake. I’m impressed—he just got his eyes open, and you’re doing it already,” she said in admiration. “Guess you didn’t overdo the drugs, since they appear to have already worn off.”

  I jerked out of Grey’s grasp, scooted to the edge of the bed, and perched on the side, an arm’s length away should Grey want to wrestle again.

  “She drugged me?” Grey was talking more to himself than anyone else.

  I absently patted his hand.

  “Harper… if the rest of him looks this good…” Avery shifted to get a closer look, ogling every inch of Grey.

  He took note of his bare chest and tugged the sheet from under his arms up to his chin.

  “Behave yourself,” I told Avery, my cheeks burning. I’d tell Grey later that I wasn’t molesting him—I’d spilled water on his shirt while attempting to get him to take a drink.

  “If you don’t call the cops, you’re an accessory,” Grey told Avery, and despite the pain, as evidenced by his grimace, he jerked on his wrist again.

  “Stop.” I smacked his forearm.

  Avery dropped the folder under her arm on the bedside table. “Got your new identity,” she said to Grey
.

  “My what?”

  “I haven’t explained yet,” I said weakly.

  Avery smirked, obviously betting that explanations had flown out the window once we locked lips.

  “So Nutjob, does this mean I’m getting out of here sometime soon?”

  “That’s so sweet, the two of you have special names already,” Avery cooed. “That’s a good one. Have you come up with a name for him yet?” I shook my head. “I’ll help you figure out something fun.”

  The door opened again and Rella Cabot, CEO of the Cabot Family Foundation and my other bestie, marched in wearing one of her flawless suits. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t bring him here.” The angry blonde jabbed her finger at Grey. “Now, you’re going to have to really kill him.” She hadn’t been on board with my plan from the beginning. Get therapy and stop inviting trouble into your life, she’d told me.

  “Remember, the one thing that we did agree on was that I’m not a killer.” My hand moved absently to rest on Grey’s chest. I felt him stiffen under the sheet. “Nothing’s changed, and I didn’t have anywhere else to take him that wouldn’t attract attention. I could hardly drag him into some seedy motel.” I squirmed at the thought.

  “Are you forgetting we have cameras in the elevator?” Rella’s demanding tone hadn’t diminished. “I’m fairly certain that you didn’t drag his butt up the stairs.”

  Avery backed up and leaned against the arm of a chair. “Took care of it already.” In addition to growing her client’s portfolios, the math wizard had a long list of talents that included the manipulation of anything electronic.

  “News flash: this man knows where we live, or will soon,” Rella shouted. “Then we’ll be the ones in handcuffs and headed to prison.”

  I rubbed my ear. “Rella, keep that up and you’ll lose your voice.”

  The three of us had been good girls, rule followers, when we met at the University of Miami. Avery and I had recently embraced our inner wild child, but Rella happily continued to toe the line.

  “I’ve got a plan to sneak him out of here the same way I got him in. I’ll be needing your expertise again.” I nodded to Avery, signaling that she needed to once again erase all trace from the security cameras. “But first, I need to tell him a few things.” That the two of us could end up dead topped the list. I wanted to peek at Grey out of the corner of my eye, but stayed focused. It was more important to calm Rella’s anger.

  She tugged at a lock of hair that had dared to come lose from the bun at the nape of her neck. She always managed to maintain an impeccable appearance, even first thing in the morning. “We all agreed,” she reminded me. “You need to live up to your part. Keep your word.”

  She’d warned me—This plan of yours is craziness. Don’t do it. You could end up in jail or, worse, dead—and I knew she thought she’d gotten a promise out of me, but I had to see this plan of mine through.

  I nodded despite wanting to ask for another meeting so I could plead my case and convince my friends that this was the right-ish course of action.

  Rella kicked off her stilettos, hooked them over her finger, smoothed her skirt, and strode out the door.

  “You know how Rella is,” Avery consoled me. “She follows a plan and never deviates. I have faith that you won’t put us in danger. If you need me for anything, you know where to find me.”

  “Once I explain everything to Grey…” I still wouldn’t want him to leave. Instant attraction, the kind I’d always scoffed at, had bit me big time.

  Avery nodded, and with a quick wave, she left, running to catch up to Rella.

  Grey shifted. I could feel his heat at my back. I took a deep breath, working up the courage to start talking.

  Grey broke the uneasy silence. “I’ll take that water.”

  I reached for the unopened bottle I always kept on the nightstand, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to him, watching as he downed it. “Avery called you cute. You’re actually hot. ‘Cute’ doesn’t do you justice.”

  “Flattery, huh?” Grey handed me back the empty bottle with a smile. “Can’t wait to hear what you have to tell me. I’m betting it’s a doozy.”

  “You’re taking this calmly.”

  “Going on instinct. I discarded the idea of you being a serial killer early on. I’m banking on not being wrong and that I get to walk out of here with my parts intact.”

  “I promise you’ll be leaving in one piece.” I smiled tentatively. “Where to start?”

  “The beginning.” He rolled his shoulder.

  I pushed him on his back and straddled him, cuffing his free wrist to mine. Then I unlocked the other cuff and rubbed his shoulder. I didn’t miss the grin that appeared for a half-second. And it didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t fought me off. I rolled over and lay next to him, sharing the same pillow, sucked in a deep breath, and blurted out, “Someone wants you dead, and it’s not me.”

  Chapter Two

  “Two weeks ago, I stopped by a… shared office space.” I knew Grey noticed my hesitation, but I wasn’t ready to involve another person at this point. “One of the phones wouldn’t stop ringing. I answered, thinking I knew who was on the other end.” My dad. A story for another time. “I knew that even if I was wrong, the phone was running a voice-distorting app, so the other person wouldn’t know who really answered.”

  “What you’re saying is that it wasn’t your phone. Then whose was it?”

  “Heron?” the man had boomed through the receiver.

  I didn’t bother to enlighten him that it was the first I was hearing the name.

  “Got a job for you. Grey Walker, an ex-cop out of Orlando, needs to die—the sooner the better. It’s my understanding you require half up front. I’ll wire it as soon as we hang up.”

  I stood, gaping at the phone until he barked, “You there?”

  “Send the contact information,” I answered, still trying to wrap my mind around what he was asking.

  “You f— this up and you’re dead. Time’s running out.”

  I was left staring at a dead line.

  I ignored Grey’s question. “The man on the phone wanted you dead. If I didn’t take the job, he’d hire someone else who’d probably kill us both for good measure.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not dead. So now what?” Grey demanded. “Once your client figures it out, you’re going to have to come up with a way to save your own ass.”

  “Well…” I hedged as his brows rose. “You kind of are. Your body’s been transported to the coroner’s office, and your nephew’s been notified.”

  “I don’t have a nephew.”

  “I thought about hopping on Craigslist and hiring a fake relative but had second thoughts. Then I remembered this acquaintance who’d told me anytime I needed anything, I could call and he’d handle it.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t go with your first idea…” Grey shook his head. “There are some jobs where you shouldn’t cut corners.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes but restrained myself. “Cut me some slack. This job was a bunch of firsts for me, and I had to improvise.”

  “Why not just off me and be done with it?”

  “Because I’m not a killer or, as it turns out, a thief.”

  “Nobody mentioned thieves.” Grey cast me a sideways glance.

  “Another long story.” I sighed. “My first inclination was to sit you down and explain the situation, but I figured you’d write me off as a crazy person. I didn’t have any proof. Then I got another call, more threatening, telling me my time was up. You know how my next bright idea worked out—here you are.”

  “Except that your story implodes when the coroner does a DNA test.”

  “Turns out your nephew has a friend in the coroner’s office. The timing was perfect. A homeless fellow was brought in, and your ID found its way into his pocket. Identification from a family member will seal the deal. It should make the news sometime today.”

  “How did I die? Let me guess, the h
eadline will be ‘dirty cop dies in the street, gets what’s coming to him,’” Grey said in a disgusted tone.

  “OD’d in an alley.”

  “Damn.” Grey winced. “Poor bastard.”

  “After the first call, while I was trying to figure out what to do next, I researched your background and think you got a rotten deal.”

  “You’re in the minority. Even though nothing tied me to that woman’s murder, her friends and some of my colleagues still thought I was a piece of… Fourteen years on the police force, and I felt forced to resign at thirty-four, since most of my co-workers made it clear they no longer wanted to work with me. Now this.”

  I reached across and clasped his free hand.

  Gray huffed out an enormous frustrated breath. “You have any clue who wanted me dead so bad?”

  “I thought we could figure that out together.” I ignored his snort. “The caller was willing to pony up two million dollars for your demise.”

  Grey whistled. “What makes you think he’ll pay?”

  “Please.” I smirked, which made Grey grin. “I got half up front, which I’ve deposited in your new account, Steve.”

  “That’s the best you could come up with? Let me guess… Steve Smith?”

  “You know it’s perfect, smarty; there’s a jillion of them.” Grey laughed, and I hoped I could make him do that more often. “Your other option is to step up and admit that the dead dude was misidentified, but that could very well be your ticket to the morgue, since you’d still have a target on your back.”

  His blue eyes flickered over to the bedside table. “Is my new life in that folder?”

  I attempted to reach it and fell short. Grey wrapped his arm around my middle, and we rolled onto our sides. I grabbed it, he rolled us back to our former position, and I set it on his stomach. “There’s identification. Two bank accounts set up in your name, one of them local, the other in the Cayman Islands. After your funeral, your nephew will go pack up your apartment. I haven’t asked for that favor yet, but I don’t anticipate a problem.”

  “Is this paragon your boyfriend?” Grey growled.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend. Good thing, too, as it keeps me from having to explain to another guy why I’m cuffed to you in the middle of my bed.”