Hired Killer (Biscayne Bay Book 1)

by Deborah Brown

  “I read that Mindy left a journal detailing how she planned to set you up. Is that true?”

  “It was her intention to plant blood evidence and personal belongings—not sure how she was going to get either one of them—and then move in with a friend out of state.” Grey’s snort left no doubt how stupid he thought that idea was. “Not everyone has a friend in the coroner’s office, and her plan had enough holes that it would’ve imploded and she’d have found herself in legal trouble of her own.”

  “All over one crappy date?” I shook my head.

  “I guess. I never understood it myself. I read what she wrote. There was excitement in her words. She was clearly caught up in her plan. Often wondered if there was something special about me that prompted the plan or if she’d have latched onto any poor schmuck who wandered into her path.”

  “You were a detective—did anyone stand out that you thought warranted a closer look?” I asked.

  “There were a couple of Mindy’s friends that I would’ve questioned. I suggested it to my lawyer, and he flipped, told me to stand down and let the legal system handle it.” Grey huffed out his annoyance. “Not long after I ceased to be a person of interest, the case went cold. Not that there were many leads to begin with. Shortly after, Mindy’s father cornered me at the coffee house and told me I owed him for turning her journal over to the captain. That was when I learned he was the one who’d found it and handed it over.”

  “What did Mr. Graham want in exchange for his good deed?”

  “He was adamant that I never mention his daughter’s name again. I thought the way he worded it was a little odd, then realized his biggest fear was that I’d do a sit-down interview and drag the family through the mud. He didn’t know me at all, and his attitude that I should be grateful made me want to punch him, but I sucked it up, reminding myself that he’d lost his daughter.”

  My first impulse was to hug him; I went for a knee pat instead. Dumb, I know. “You did get your job back?”

  He nodded. “Because the union went to bat for me. It was suggested that it would be in the department’s best interest if I resigned, as they feared never-ending news coverage, but I gave that suggestion the figurative finger and got assigned to desk duty. The atmosphere at the station was frigid, and I filled my do-nothing hours by setting up my investigation business. Got my PI license and rented desk space. On the couple of occasions that I had female clients, I hired the receptionist to sit in the room.”

  “I thought you were owed a public apology. Sorry you didn’t get one.”

  “I stopped hoping for that to happen.” Grey gave me a scrutinizing look. “I have a question or six of my own. Your story is that you’d been following me… for how long?”

  “A little over a week.” My cheeks flamed.

  “You’d think I’d have noticed a beautiful woman hot on my tail.”

  “I disguised myself as a boy or an old woman and never went as myself except the day I arranged to meet you. That called for a short dress and heels.” I relaxed at his smile. “I rehearsed a sexy walk and a stumble, hoping that you’d catch me before I hit the ground. You were every inch the gentleman, even helped me back to my car. That’s when I stuck you with a needle.”

  “The stick only half-registered…” Grey paused, clearly wracking his brains. “Then nothing until I woke up in your bed. I’ll admit to being more annoyed than scared, because you didn’t strike me as a killer… unless my instincts had totally gone to hell.”

  Chapter Five

  “You have an unfair advantage over me.” Grey’s eyes bored into mine. “You know everything about me, my underwear size included.” He traced his finger down my burning cheek.

  I mumbled incoherently, not wanting to confess that the more I’d researched, the more I wanted to meet him. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.” He chuckled as my cheeks burned brighter. “How did you meet your friends? What trouble were you getting into before you thought it would be a good idea to accept a job as a hired killer?” Noticing my hesitation, he said sternly, “If you need me to play hardball with you, I can tie you to the bed and tickle you to death.”

  “The three of us met in college. We were on the same floor in the dorm. We bonded over being labeled nerdy and uninteresting.”

  “Dumb kids.” He snorted. “I’m assuming you majored in something non-criminal.”

  “Business and Art History. My dad thought the latter was a waste of time and money but was appeased by my bachelor’s in business. Figured I could get a job if I made an effort.” I remembered his proud face at graduation and smiled. “The first thing I did was start my own company—Finn Media. I’m a social media marketer, managing accounts for those who have no clue or are too busy. It’s grown to six employees. No worries, though; as harried as my schedule gets, I can always make time for trouble.”

  “When I get back on track, I’ll be one of your clients with no clue. Can’t wait to see your office. It says a lot about a person.”

  “First door on the right.” I waved in the direction of the hallway. “All my employees work from home, and that includes me. I’m up at the crack of dawn and video conferencing. Any emergency that comes up, I’m available, usually within minutes.”

  Grey looked around the living room, the sliding doors open to the balcony. “Thanks to you, I’m going to use this second chance to be less grouchy and enjoy every damn minute of life. But go on, I want to hear the rest.”

  “My company does well, but this condo was made possible by my granddaddy. He invested heavily in an unknown company called Microsoft. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” I laughed, remembering the shock that reverberated through the family when the will was read. “He divided it between Gram and my mom, and she left her share to me in a trust fund.”

  “Successful company? Trust fund? How is it you made the leap into criminal activity? Should be interesting,” he mumbled.

  “If I were to confess all my transgressions, it would wipe that indulgent smile off your face.”

  “If you’re worried I’m going to turn you over for prosecution, I’m not. However, going forward, I’ll be doing my best to talk you out of anything that could end in your arrest. But just so you know, I’m not going to get judgmental.” Grey assured me. “I’ve had enough of it to last me a lifetime.”

  “Stole the same car twice—a two-million-dollar Bugatti.” I whooshed out a breath. “That job came from another phone call that I should’ve let go to voicemail.” At his raised eyebrows, I quickly added, “After an attack of conscience, I stole it back and parked it in the owner’s driveway. I donated the money.”

  “I remember that case.” Grey laughed. “You’re a clever little thing. You were caught on surveillance from several different angles, and it frustrated law enforcement that they couldn’t get a good description of the thief and put him behind bars. Pricey auto—you’d have gotten the high end when it came to sentencing. Surprised your contact on that job didn’t burn up your phone again when it went missing. Another burner, I assume?”

  I nodded. “If you need a phone, I have a box full. As for the client, I smashed the phone; didn’t want it traced back to me if they sniffed a double cross.”

  “There’s a missing piece of the story—the ringing phones, who do they belong to? You told me that the caller had no clue who they were dealing with, so who did they think they were talking to?”

  “When my dad suddenly went missing more than a month ago, I went to his office and discovered that he was involved in more than one shady deal. Instead of minding my own business, which I’m not known for, a part of me thought I might find answers as to where he might’ve gone.”

  “Killer? Thief?” Grey asked.

  “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure what he was doing. I do know that he had his hand in several criminal endeavors.”

  “Your mother? How did she handle it?”

  “It’s an age-old story—they dated, broke up, and she discovere
d she was pregnant. If you’re going to ask if she tracked him down, the answer is no, and I don’t know why. My mom died of cancer when I was ten, and I went to live with Gram. After a couple of years, Gram was diagnosed with some health issues and contacted my dad. Informed him that he had a daughter and needed to step up. I overheard her say, ‘Sorry it’s taken so long to notify you, but you need to get your ass here, before I croak and Harper ends up who knows where.’ Her idea to contact him; nothing more than a wild hair.”

  “Is she…” Grey paused.

  “No, her medical issues were easily treatable. Drama queen decided that she wasn’t getting any younger and wanted to move to a Jimmy Buffet old folks’ home with a couple of her friends, so she concocted a plan to provide me with a stable life.” Grey laughed, which made me smile at him. “I wrestled a promise out of Gram that she wouldn’t skate out of the area to enjoy her golden years, so she’s not far up the coast. Gram, Dad, and I lived together for a short time so Gram could put Dad through the hoops, make sure he was suitable. It didn’t take long for him to get wise to her machinations and expedite her move.”

  “What you’re saying is that instability runs in your family?”

  I covered my face and took a deep breath. “Why aren’t you out the door?” I asked through my fingers.

  Grey pushed my hands down. “Not going anywhere. You’re way too much fun.”

  “In my defense, I wasn’t a rule-breaker growing up—always toed the line. I’ll admit I’ve always had snooping tendencies, though. It didn’t help that my dad was a secretive fellow, and when he caught on that his little bookworm was nosey as heck, he threatened to ship me off to boarding school. I boldly attempted to blackmail him, something I’d seen on a TV show. He laughed. I’d missed the mark in coming off tough and menacing like the guy on the tube.” I smiled at the memory of that showdown, knowing in retrospect that my dad enjoyed every minute. “The compromise: I’d stay out of his office and he’d teach me a few skills—so I’m good with a lockpick, can boost a car and kick ass, and I’m an excellent shot, even though I don’t own a gun.” At Grey’s laugh, I added, “Almost forgot, check your pocket. I left you something when you weren’t paying attention.”

  Grey reached in and pulled out his car key, holding it up. “What the devil?”

  “Almost left pickpocket off my list of talents.”

  “I’m surprised your dad was willing to teach you those tricks, since not a one of them is legal.” Grey shot me a pointed stare.

  “A couple of them I learned on my own.” I grinned at him. “I pinky promised that I would never do anything criminal with those talents. And here I am. He wouldn’t be happy with me.”

  “You said your dad disappeared. Of his own accord?” Grey asked.

  “Don’t know. Dad was a private man, and rarely talked about his life outside the house. I wasn’t sure why an insurance salesman needed to be so secretive, but he said his clients deserved his discretion. That explanation worked until I realized it was a crock.”

  Grey’s lips quirked slightly.

  “A month ago, he went to New York to meet with a client and never came back. His phone went straight to voicemail at first. Now nothing. I filed a missing person’s report, and the cop was sympathetic but treated me like a dumbass since I couldn’t answer most of the questions about Dad’s life.”

  “He probably figured your dad just walked off,” Grey said.

  “He wouldn’t do that, which is one reason I picked his office apart. I needed to know that he was okay and wanted to bring him home. My contention is he’s in hiding, and if I could ask why, my guess is he’d say, ‘Not telling you is for your protection.’” I needed a break and stood. “A cold one?”

  “Water’s good. I don’t want to get sauced for the rest of this conversation.” Grey winked.

  I crossed to the kitchen and walked around the island a couple of times to calm my nerves. Then I reached into the refrigerator and grabbed two waters, heading back to the living room and handing Grey a bottle.

  He tipped his towards me. “Did your dad leave any clues behind?”

  “I had long-standing instructions that should anything happen to him—though he wasn’t specific on the ‘anything’—I was to empty his safety deposit box. That’s where I found the keys to an office building he owns.” It had surprised me at the time about how organized he left everything. “This whole time, I thought he worked out of his home office, five floors down. Clearly a ruse. I knew he owned the office building, having been there once or twice, but thought he rented out all the floors. It was a surprise that he left instructions to destroy everything on the third floor.”

  “I’m willing to put big money on you not following those instructions,” Grey said with a knowing smile. “And that you still haven’t, even after giving everything you found a thorough inspection.”

  “The third floor held a lot of finds. The most interesting was a dozen or so phones, all plugged in and charged. While going through boxes of records, I discovered the bank account that I had the money for your contract wired into. I justified answering the phone that day by telling myself I could pretend my dad was still in business. It didn’t take long to figure out that I was in way over my head. Eventually I took a sledgehammer to all the phones except the one. I’m awaiting notification—once the other million lands in the account, I’ll toss that phone.”

  “Time to pay up now that I’m dead.” Grey waggled his brows.

  I opened the drawer in the side table, taking out the phone and checking the screen, then pocketing it. “Nothing yet. Thankfully, I’m not now and never will be dependent on illegal income.” I stared out at the cloudless sky and the sun streaming through the doors.

  “I’m thinking you’re a person who needs to stay busy or you go looking for trouble. One thing we have in common—neither of us likes to sit and do nothing.”

  “I’ve been thinking…” I ignored his playful groan. “You’ve got investigative skills. We should partner up, and for your first case, you should figure out who wants you dead. After that, I’ll hire you to help me find my dad. All you need is a little makeover, nothing drastic, and you can get out and mingle with no one the wiser.”

  “We’d have to work under the radar.” He stared back at me, amusement in his eyes. “My current licenses are still valid, but should anyone question them, they’d trace back to a supposed dead man.”

  “ID under your new name is in the folder I handed you. You could cultivate clients that don’t care how work gets done, as long as it does. It’s rude to roll your eyes.”

  “Listen to me, young lady.” Grey shook his finger. “No more loopholes or shortcuts for you. Going forward, you need to operate straight-up legal. Using fake ID is crossing that line.”

  “You may have to factor in some wiggle room.” I waggled my brows. “Before we do anything, we should probably wait until after your funeral. Be respectful and all.”

  Chapter Six

  Grey had fallen asleep on the couch for the second night in a row. Good thing it was comfortable, or the aches and pains would’ve taken their toll. It also eliminated the awkwardness of us being, after all, strangers. The television stayed on, sound muted; it didn’t take long for the ex-cop’s death to go from being the lead story to a brief mention, a boat explosion taking its place.

  The following morning, we sat on the balcony, staring out at the water and finishing up our coffee. The ringing of my phone interrupted the silence, and we both moved back inside.

  “You’ve been cremated,” I said, hanging up the phone. “That was your dear nephew, updating me that the cops released your apartment and he had it cleaned out and made it look like everything had been hauled to the dump. For some reason, he thought that was a good idea. Your stuff is in a storage unit in Miami, and you have a month to pick up your stuff or cover the cost.”

  “My nephew’s been a busy fellow. Is there going to be a service?”

  “If anyone calls the fun
eral home inquiring, we’ll also get that update.” I stood and crossed my hands. “Dearly beloved… I’d be happy to say a few words.”

  “You’re just full of tricks, aren’t you?”

  “I aim to please.” I curtsied and plopped down next to him.

  “My dear nephew… I seem to have forgotten his name.”

  “Sarcasm.” I tsked.

  “Said no one ever,” Grey mumbled.

  I needed a good stall, as I didn’t want to name names or resort to the other option—lie. “I need to go to my dad’s office. You want to ride along?” I was over being housebound and needed to soak up some sunshine.

  “Nice try—ignoring my question and asking one of your own. It isn’t going to work. I’m on the alert for that trick.”

  “Also thought that while we’re out, we could hit up the storage unit and, depending on the number of boxes, make a trip or two back here. You’re probably ready for a change of clothes.”

  Faster than a snake, Grey had me on my back and staring up into his pair of frosty eyes. “You’ve got two seconds before I unleash harsh interrogation techniques.”

  Maybe now wasn’t the time to ask what that might entail. “Shark,” I squeaked, knowing he’d be irked when he found out it was a name Ender no longer used.

  “Jones Somebody would’ve been more believable.” Grey grunted and tipped to the side. “Dammit, that hurts.” He peered over his shoulder, then stretched out and lay still. “Get that cat off me. His claws are digging holes in my back.”

  My black Maine Coon, Mobster, had gone through a few names before I hit on one he responded to. He didn’t care for visitors and took cover, hiding out until yesterday, when he introduced himself by jumping on the ottoman and biting Grey’s big toe.

  “Get down,” I ordered, which had a slight chance of working. His yellow eyes stared back, letting me know that ordering him around wasn’t going to work. Tactic two: “Want some food?” His twenty-five pounds leaped gracefully to the floor and darted to the kitchen. “Apparently he doesn’t like it when you molest the woman who feeds him.”