The Contract: Kill Jessica White

by Remington Kane

  After driving to the small log cabin that he owned along with his brother, Randall had carried Shauna inside, stripped her naked, and locked her in the cell they had constructed against one corner of the cabin.

  There was an air mattress in the cage, but it had gone flat long ago. The cage also contained a thick, but filthy blanket, a bucket for waste, and a bottle of water. It was so cold inside the cabin that the bottle contained more ice than water, not that Shauna could drink any of it with her mouth gagged.

  The property was far away from any others and surrounded by tall pines that were laden with fresh snow.

  The small one room cabin had been built by Randall and Carter’s father over forty years earlier, and they still owned the surrounding acreage.

  The two small windows that sat on either side of the door had wooden shutters closed over them from the inside, and the only light came from a battery-powered lantern, the type used when camping.

  Shauna sat up and nearly vomited from the intensity of the pain in her head. She then stayed as still as she could to avoid another flare-up of agony. Her jaw was another source of pain, and made worse by the gag in her mouth. Randall’s vicious punch had rendered her unconscious for nearly an hour.

  The blanket beside her gave off an aroma of body odor, while the combined scents of vomit and feces drifted up from the bottom of the wooden bucket in the corner, and the wall at Shauna’s back scratched at her with its roughhewed logs.

  As she was attempting to flex her jaw to assess the damage done to her, she heard a voice come from the shadows that startled her.

  “You are one hot little piece of ass, do you know that?”

  It was Randall.

  Shauna ignored the pain in her head and grabbed the blanket. She was trying to cover herself as best she could, but it was a losing battle because her hands were secured behind her.

  “I’ve already seen every inch of you, girl, and as soon as I have the time I’ll take you out of there and play with you.”

  Shauna could barely make out Randall’s face through the tears in her eyes, but there was something familiar about him. It came back to her then, what had happened after she’d gotten in the car, and she mumbled a question.

  Randall grinned.

  “You’re wondering about that boyfriend of yours, aren’t you? Don’t worry; he’s alive, but he’s in a heap of trouble. I fixed it so the cops will think he did something to you. Maybe he’ll get a fancy lawyer who will get him off, but I doubt it.”

  Shauna’s tears increased and she began to beg for her life. She couldn’t form the words because of the gag, but their meaning was clear in her eyes.

  “Girl, you’re never gonna leave this cabin alive and no one will ever find your body, but oh Lordy are you and I gonna have some fun.”

  A muffled scream sounded from Shauna, as her teary eyes grew hard and blazed with hate.

  “You’re a feisty one, hmm? But when I come back we’ll see how long it takes you to break.”

  Randall turned off the battery-powered lantern that hung by the door, plunging the cabin into darkness.

  As she heard the sound of his truck leaving the area, Shauna fell over onto her side and wept.

  ***

  “You did what?” Carter said.

  “I took that little hot blonde that’s been coming in here, but don’t worry, we’re in the clear.”

  Carter looked at Randall as if his younger brother were insane, which he was, however, since he was nearly as demented, Carter couldn’t see his brother for what he truly was.

  His angst was caused by the utter lack of control that Randall was displaying, and he feared that it would doom them.

  They were back in the office of their bar. Randall had been on his way to Jim Horrigan’s rented house in Salina when he decided that he’d better fill Carter in on the girl.

  “How the hell could you be stupid enough to grab a girl when you know that Jessica White is right here in Boulder? Do you want to get caught, is that it?”

  Randall’s face reddened in anger, but then he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “Hear me out. We’re not at risk. I framed the girl’s boyfriend. I came across the two of them having an argument and used it to our advantage.”

  Carter, whose face was also red, seemed to calm down as he processed Randall’s words.

  “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  Randall did, and although he seemed more relaxed by knowing all the details, Carter was still upset by Randall’s impetuosity.

  “What if something had gone wrong?”

  “Like what?”

  “Maybe somebody saw you when you transferred her into the truck.”

  “There was nobody out there to see me, and anyway, the kid now looks guilty as hell. He has scratches on his face and the girl’s bloody jacket hidden in his car. Plus, people saw them arguing, and it’s on video that he went after her in his ride.”

  Carter pointed at Randall as if he had just found a flaw in his plan.

  “That camera, are you sure you weren’t filmed while you drove the car?”

  “I’m absolutely certain. That camera is mounted so that it films everyone coming and going from the bar. All it caught was the roof of the car as I drove past and the rear where the license plate is mounted. The kid is screwed and the two of us are in the clear.”

  Carter ran a hand over his chin as he thought things over.

  “She’s secured inside the cell?”

  “Yep, tied up, gagged, and locked in tight.”

  “What about her phone, did you dispose of it?”

  “I dropped it on the street where she was walking. The cops will find it and add it as proof that she was grabbed near the club, and not somewhere else.”

  A smile crept across Carter’s face.

  “She is one hot little piece.”

  “Wait until you see her naked. She’s all real and a natural blonde, just the way you like them.”

  “You’ve had her?”

  Randall grinned at his brother.

  “I figured I’d let you have her first, as a peace offering.”

  Carter chuckled.

  “You son of a bitch, this can’t be a habit. You know we should plan and work together.”

  “I know, but this was a golden opportunity and I took it.”

  Carter was pleased, but didn’t want to show it.

  “Stop wasting time here and go find Jim Horrigan. You should have handled him already.”

  Randall pinched his brother’s cheek, grabbed his jacket, and left the office while whistling.

  CHAPTER 18 – Tricky

  One second Tanner had his gun trained on the figure of the tall man who was roughing up Jim Horrigan, and in the next instant Horrigan’s body was hurtling towards him through the shadows.

  The impact was brutal. Horrigan’s one hundred and sixty pounds slammed into Tanner and he felt his gun arm go numb as he fell to the floor beneath the weight.

  Tanner lay flat on his stomach while Horrigan had landed on his back atop Tanner’s right arm and shoulder.

  The gun had fallen from Tanner’s deadened grip and he reached for it with his free left hand.

  He was inches from touching the gun when a knife THUNKED! into the floor in front of him, and he sliced open the skin between two fingers, as his reaching hand collided with the sharp blade.

  Tanner gritted his teeth against the stinging pain as he realized the tall man was headed for him. Numb or not, he tried to pick up the gun with his right hand but was too late, and the tall man plucked it from the floor.

  At that same moment, Horrigan sat up while moaning and Tanner used his shoulder to slam Horrigan in the back, causing him to fall over against the tall man’s feet and make him stumble.

  Tanner used that diversion to rip the knife from the floor and rush into the bedroom, where he dived through the open window and out into the snow. By the time he scrambled to his feet, he expected a bullet might find his
back, but no, the tall man was holding off firing the gun, although he was coming.

  Tanner ran off towards the homes ruined by flooding, while leaving a trail of footsteps and blood in his wake.

  ***

  After checking the gun and finding it loaded, Mr. White stepped out into the snow as he watched Tanner disappear between two homes across the street.

  He believed that Tanner was the hit man hired to kill his wife and so he pursued him.

  If possible, he would question him and find out who hired him, if he resisted, he would simply kill him. His wife’s safety was all he cared about, and he would do anything to end the threat against her.

  He reached the narrow strip of land between the homes and saw the trail of blood that Tanner’s cut hand was leaving behind, as well as his boot prints.

  Tanner had run off with his knife, but he had Tanner’s gun. White didn’t know what other weapons Tanner might have hidden on him, and so he moved with caution.

  There was an old car up on blocks at the rear of one of the homes. White could tell that Tanner had paused by the car and disturbed the snow atop its trunk.

  For a moment, White wondered if Tanner might have hidden inside the trunk, but no, the blood and the boot prints continued deeper into the yard and over by an old wooden shed.

  With his gun arm extended and his eyes searching, White moved forward through the steadily falling snow, and saw that the tracks led over to the side of the shed.

  There was a wide window frame where the boot prints ended. The window had lost its panes of glass long ago and was just a gaping hole in the side of the structure. If Tanner was waiting in the shed, in the darkness, he knew that if he stepped in front of that window that he would be silhouetted perfectly, and that a well tossed knife could cause a serious wound.

  Mr. White took out his phone and held it in his left hand, to use as a flashlight, in his right hand, he held the gun at the ready, and would kill if needed.

  ***

  When Tanner had come across the old car up on blocks, he looked back to see if the tall man had come into view.

  He hadn’t, and Tanner broke off the long antenna that rose into the air atop the rusted car trunk. The antenna was made of metal, but was too flimsy to be used as a baton, still, he had an idea how he could use it for a diversion.

  The cut between his fingers was bleeding freely. Tanner encapsulated the tip of the antenna with his own blood, and used it to send dollops of red atop the snow. They left a trail away from the window of the shed where he was standing, and made it seem as if he had headed towards a stack of old tires that were against a weather-beaten fence.

  With that done, Tanner used the antenna to gouge out divots in the snow to simulate shoe tracks. A close look would fool no one, but it might be enough to gain the tall man’s attention for a moment, and a moment would be all Tanner would need to gain the advantage.

  ***

  Mr. White followed the trail of blood to the side of the shed. However, as he drew closer and stood beside the window, he saw that the blood drops continued past the shed and over to the right, where a stack of used tires were piled near a fence. The tires made for a handy ladder and Tanner might have used them to climb over.

  Mr. White turned to follow the blood trial, which placed him in front of the window, and as he did so, he immediately realized his error.

  Yes, there was blood leading away from the window, but there were no boot prints. The indentations in the snow were far too shallow to have been caused by a man.

  He tensed to dive to the left, and even as he did so, he heard the crunch of snow behind him. It was joined by the hand holding the knife in front of him, just inches from a jugular vein, as Tanner’s arm wrapped around his throat.

  “Stay still or I’ll kill you,” Tanner said in White’s ear.

  Tanner had collided into Mr. White when he leapt from the window and it caused White to drop his phone into the snow.

  Mr. White gritted his teeth in frustration.

  He had often been called a trickster because he was a master of tactics and surprise.

  Now he knew that he was not alone in possessing that skill.

  The trickster had been out tricked.

  CHAPTER 19 – Reconnaissance

  Styles learned from a friend who worked as a bellboy that Jessica was under a police guard.

  He didn’t know if that was standard for the doctor when she was on a case, and he didn’t care.

  He would kill her just the same, cop or no cop.

  Styles was twenty-six, looked years younger, and was glad of it.

  He liked girls in their teens, and figured that he always would.

  That might be a problem once he was past thirty, but for now, he was still accepted among the young crowd.

  He’d been a Marine Scout Sniper until a year ago when he was found in bed with the sixteen-year-old daughter of his neighbor while home on leave.

  The girl’s father made a fuss, and unfortunately, the man was close friends with a state senator.

  Styles was an exceptional shot from long range, but always preferred the close-up kill with a knife whenever it was possible.

  It would be possible with Dr. Jessica White, and he couldn’t wait to stare into her frightened eyes as he drove his knife into her heart.

  He entered the hotel dressed like a skier and kept his head down so that the cameras wouldn’t capture his likeness, even though he had a scarf wrapped around the bottom portion of his face and was wearing sunglasses.

  After brushing off the snow from his jacket and stamping his boots, Styles headed for the elevators.

  Once he reached the floor where he was told Jessica was staying, he saw no one in the hall, although there was a folding chair outside the door.

  Styles took off down the hallway as if he had a room along a corridor, and as he passed the alcove where the icemaker and the snack machines were kept, he saw a woman dressed in civilian clothes getting a cup of coffee from a machine.

  The woman’s gaze scrutinized him and Styles knew that he had just seen the cop assigned to guard the doctor.

  She peeked her head out of the alcove as Styles came to a stop before a room that was across the hall from Jessica’s and three doors down.

  Styles knocked on the door.

  “Yo, Jimmy, are you back yet?”

  Styles waited to see if anyone would answer. If they did, he would play the stupid drunk, apologize and claim to be on the wrong floor. If no one answered, he would pretend to write a note and slip it beneath the door.

  No one answered, and as Styles bent to slip the blank piece of paper under the door, the cop returned to her seat and took out her phone to read.

  Styles headed back towards the elevator, left the hotel, and went to a donut shop on the corner, where he sat and gave the situation some thought.

  When an idea occurred to him, he went over it in his mind and deemed it worthy.

  Then he returned to his car, opened his trunk, and removed the pack of firecrackers he had left over from summer.

  Styles grinned.

  Now all he needed was a long fuse.

  CHAPTER 20 – The eyes have it.

  “Drop the gun or I’ll slit your throat open,” Tanner said.

  “If you touch me with that knife I’ll turn and shoot you dead,” Mr. White said.

  He swiveled his head around until he was looking at Tanner sideways, and couldn’t hide his shock at what he was seeing. The man had eyes as unique as his own, and Tanner’s intense gaze took his own eyes in with surprise registering on his face.

  “Horrigan thought I was you at first, Tanner, now I see why.”

  “There’s a resemblance,” Tanner agreed. “And I still want you to drop the gun.”

  Mr. White ignored him and asked a question.

  “Who is paying you to kill my wife?”

  “Who is your wife?”

  “Dr. Jessica White.”

  A fresh flicker of surprise crossed T
anner’s face.

  “Is your wife here with you?”

  “She’s out of your reach and under police protection.”

  “I don’t want to kill your wife, White. I’ve actually been working to save her. The hitter is a man named Styles. He cancelled his travel plans earlier and now I know why. It’s because your wife is here. That means that she’s in danger. Drop the gun and we’ll talk.”

  “Nice try Tanner, but I know a bit about your reputation and my wife is the type of high profile contract that you would take.”

  “I was offered the job, yes, but I turned it down because of your wife’s FBI ties.”

  “Drop the knife, Tanner, tell me who hired you, and I’ll let you live.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, White, but I’ll hurt you if you don’t drop that gun right now.”

  Mr. White turned his head back around, let out a sigh, and dropped the gun. As he was releasing the weapon, he reached up with his left hand and gripped the knife. The blade sliced into his leather glove and as he squeezed, he felt the sharp edge nip his fingers and palm, but that was far better than allowing the knife to rip open his throat.

  He jerked and twisted his arm and the blade came free of Tanner’s grip, and then left his hand as well, as the blood from his wounded fingers had caused the blade to grow slick.

  The knife went up and spun end over end until it landed by the base of the fence, near the stack of old tires.

  Mr. White turned around while crouching into a fighting stance and was just in time to block a kick from Tanner.

  Had he reached for the gun lying in the snow near his feet, Tanner’s kick would have connected with his head.

  White feinted with a left and then made contact with a right that landed near Tanner’s left temple. However, it was only a glancing blow, as Tanner’s reflexes were exceptional, so exceptional in fact, that he actually landed a hard right into White’s stomach, which caused him to grunt.

  After blocking a second punch that had been aimed at his throat, Mr. White grabbed Tanner’s wrist with the intention of flipping him, but Tanner leapt up, which shifted his weight, throwing White off balance, and the two men fell together atop the snow.