"The garage?"

"You heard me."

She swallowed a couple of times, and I had to wonder what was going on in her head. She wasn't new to all this, that much was sure. It was entirely possible she knew exactly who I was, but not likely.

She made the call like her life depended on it, so maybe she did know who I was. She followed directions and told Steven right where to meet us but not why. She gave nothing away and sounded very convincing.

Proper little liar.

I pulled her car into a handicapped s.p.a.ce in the parking garage next to a small, metal door. I kept my gun at her face, moved backwards out of the driver's side door, and then brought her through with me.

With her upper arm firmly in my grasp, I moved her past the p.i.s.s-stained cement walls and to a small door. I twisted the k.n.o.b, and it opened easily. Inside the room there were three chairs on the floor, a rusted metal toolbox in the corner, and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I placed her in one of the chairs and grabbed both her wrists in one hand. From the toolbox I extracted plastic zip ties and secured her hands behind her.

"What's going on?" she asked. The panic in her voice was rising. I still didn't think she knew who I was, but she was getting the idea. "Please, I won't tell anyone"

I gagged her with a rag from the toolbox, made a quick call to Rinaldo, and then waited at the door. Steven Hobbs arrived just a minute or two later, and I called out to him.

"Looking for a girl?" I asked. I beckoned with my hand. "She's in here."

The moron came right to the door, where I hauled him in and gave him a slight push towards Nina. He stumbled a little, turned, and looked at me quizzically as I closed the door behind us.

"What...what's going on?" Steven asked.

"Have a seat." I indicated the folding metal chair next to his girlfriend.

"Maria?" he said quietly.

"Try Nina," I corrected.

He just stared, confused. He was an idiot, like all men who did more thinking with their d.i.c.ks than actually putting them to their natural use. I didn't even have to ask him about his past. I knew it as well as I knew my own.

Overweight in school, bullied on the playground, and always picked last on the team. He always thought he was much smarter than those who hazed him and thought that someday he'd have a great job and they'd have to grovel to him instead of laugh. Instead, he got a mediocre job, no date for the prom, and was now being used by a woman who probably hadn't even let him come in her.

I raised my gun and indicated the chair again. He sat and stared at me with wide eyes.

It was only a few minutes before I heard the sound of additional cars parking just outside the little office room. Footsteps followed, and then four short raps on the door. I took a step backwards to open it.

Rinaldo, Mario, and Terry Kramer were outside of the door.

They wasted no time in letting Hobbs know exactly why he was there.

"Mario, this man here decided it was a good idea to tell your family business to his piece of a.s.s," Rinaldo said to his bodyguard. "What do you think of that?"

"I think he's an inconsiderate man," Mario said sternly.

I didn't really care for the games at this point. They were both going to have to die, and we all knew it. I never understood dragging it all out for the dramatic effect. Wasn't that the same sort of mentality that always screwed up the comic book villain's plans?

They went back and forth between berating him and administrating a little light torture until Steven was blubbering about how he didn't know anything about her. He went from defending her to accusing her in a short amount of time, and she struggled against her tied hands and gagged mouth as he told them everything she had said and done.

She used him to get information about Moretti's movements and gave that information back to Greco, who just waited for the proper time to use the information to eliminate the compet.i.tion and take over his businesses. Fortunately for Rinaldo, I had been there to stop it from happening.

"She was nice to me!" Steven finally cried out as Kramer broke another knuckle.

Terry laughed.

"I believe Mario would like to take care of this man himself, Evan," Rinaldo said.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"I could help" Terry started to say, but Moretti interrupted him.

"Shut up, Terry," he said softly.

At least Terry had the good sense to listen.

Mario hauled Steven up by the back of his collar and hauled him out of the small office. Terry followed, leaving Rinaldo in the room with me and the girl tied to the chair.

"Mister Arden," Rinaldo said quietly. He waved a hand over at Nina. "Would you finish up please? Not here, though this place is a b.i.t.c.h to clean."

"Yes, sir."

Nina's eyes were big as I hauled her up out of the chair. Comprehension was washing over her face, and if she hadn't known who I was before, she definitely knew me now. Whether by name or not, she knew who I was to Rinaldo and his organization.

Still in shock, she barely struggled as I hauled her out of the little garage office and back to her car. She did whimper a bit as I opened the trunk and shoved her inside, but I couldn't blame her for that. It was the last ride of her life after all.

I turned off the radio as I drove down to the water. It was late, and there wasn't much traffic as I crossed the West Grand Avenue Bridge and then drove down a side street. It was a short trip, and I didn't want to listen to half a song. I pulled into a little drive area with a big sign that said the area was under twenty-four hour surveillance.

Sometimes they just made it easy.

I barely had to aim since I had shot out this particular camera so many times. It shattered into pieces all over the asphalt as I got back into the car and headed to the parking lot just south of the bridge. I pulled up close to the building and parked in the shadows.

Nina struggled as I pulled her out of the trunk and onto her feet. She didn't come close to breaking away from my grip, and I wasn't sure where the h.e.l.l she thought she was going to go, anyway. The building was inaccessible, and there was nothing here but gravel and the edge of the river. Even if she did make it the full five-hundred yards and over the fence without me catching her which she wouldn't what was she going to do? Hide in one of the nearby ocean containers?

My grip on her upper arm tightened, and I hauled her down to the edge of the water. There was a ledge between the building and the water where boats could come up and exchange supplies if any of that s.h.i.t still happened today.

"Please...please don't," she begged. Her nails dug into my knuckles, which stung a bit.

I didn't answer her; I wasn't really listening. I'd heard it all before the pleas, the promises they meant nothing to me. I had a job to do, and I was going to do it. Nothing she said was going to make any difference in the outcome.

"Go on," I said. I gave her shoulder a little push ahead and got her walking while I followed closely behind. I wanted her under the bridge where it was darkest. If someone did happen to hear the shot, I didn't want to be visible from Chicago Avenue. She tripped over the asphalt once in her high heels, but I kept a hold of her so she wouldn't fall onto the concrete.

No reason to die with skinned knees.

"Why? Why?" she asked over and over again.

As if she didn't know.

We made it to the spot on the ledge in the combined shadow of two buildings and a roadway. I positioned her close to the edge, where there was less than a ten foot drop into the river. She looked over the edge and into the water, turned around, and dropped in front of me. She reached out to me with her hands, like she was trying to reach the hand of some G.o.d she saw in my eyes.

As if she'd find salvation there.

I looked down at the pricey heels on her feet, now covered in mud, and the designer dress strangling her twiggy figure. I pulled my Beretta out of the back of my jeans and fitted the end with a silencer. There wasn't any reason to make unnecessary noise.

"Please," she cried. "I'll do anything you want I swear!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks as I raised the barrel of the weapon to her face. There wasn't any reason to drag it out that would just be cruel.

I pulled the trigger, and her body slumped sideways. One shove from my foot sent her into the water. She'd be found, no doubt probably before morning. It wasn't about making her disappear it was about making sure Greco knew what had happened to her.

With the Beretta down the back of my pants again, I climbed into her car and drove it out to the airport to leave it in long-term parking, and then I took the L back into town.

I loved riding the trains and buses in Chicago. I was a people watcher, and it was always entertaining as h.e.l.l to be on public transportation with anything from a drunk, crazy homeless guy to an equally crazy high-cla.s.s, sorority b.i.t.c.h. If you were lucky, the two would run into each other and some kind of explosion would ensue.

No such luck this time, though. All the nuts must have taken the night off. Instead, I ended up leaning back in the seat and closing my eyes. I didn't drift off or anything I still couldn't sleep but my mind started wandering.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Evan," I tell her.

"I'm Lia," she says with a smile. I'm not sure if it is due to her continued nervousness or if she really just wants to be polite. I watch her closely but don't respond. "Um...Lia Antonio."

Smooth, flawless skin and warm, brown eyes. When I thought about her, I always pictured how she looked when I woke up with my head resting on her stomach and her fingers running through my hair. It had gotten long while I was in Arizona. Well, long for me, anyway.

She smiles at me, and it feels like I've been turned inside out.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"Stop that s.h.i.t," I muttered. "She was just some girl you f.u.c.ked."

A pair of tourists with shopping bags glanced at me nervously, but I ignored them.

It was late when I arrived home, but if Odin was ticked off at me he didn't show it. I took him for an extra long walk around the park and played fetch with him in the living room for a bit before I had a bite to eat. He appreciated the extra attention when I sat down on the floor and rubbed his belly.

"I'm gonna have to ditch you for a while again," I informed him. He looked at me and snuffed through his nose. "Just a couple days, I think. No more than that."

His tail thumped against the carpet, and I rubbed his stomach once more before I got up and headed to the shower. The water was extra hot, and I loved the feeling of the moist heat. It relaxed me, and I hoped it meant I was going to get some decent sleep tonight.

My shower finished, I crawled into bed naked. Just as I was about to drop off, the phone rang.

Rinaldo.

"Sir?"

"You did good today, Evan," he said. "Real good."

"Thank you, sir. It just needed to be done."

"It's good to know there's someone around I can really trust. d.a.m.n good thing to know."

"Anything you need from me," I a.s.sured him, "just tell me. It'll get done."

"I know it will, son," Rinaldo said. "I know it will."

Son.

Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes and smiled slightly.

There was just no better feeling than pleasing the boss.

Chapter 6 Brief Surrender.

New Year's Eve.

Every year I was invited to Rinaldo Moretti's house to celebrate the coming of a new year, and every year I went. Each party was exactly like the previous year's with only the dates on people's paper hats changing. I clanged champagne gla.s.ses with Rinaldo at midnight, kissed Mrs. Moretti on the cheek, and put up with a bunch of a.s.sholes patting me on the back and telling me how promising the next year was going to be.

Whatever.

At exactly one in the morning, I felt I had paid my due respects and had the valet bring my car to me. He dropped the keys to the Mazda in my hand with a look of distaste, but I only took the convertible out in nice weather. Apparently a forty-thousand-dollar car wasn't up to his usual standards, so I didn't bother to tip the a.s.shole.

The Audi convertible I had was actually acquired without cost to me since I kept it after killing its original owner. I never would have spent that much money on a car. I was a relatively frugal guy, and tended to keep my money liquid and close to me. At some point the winds could change, and having a good escape plan involved a decent amount of cash. Why waste it when the public transportation was so close to my apartment? I liked taking the bus most of the time, anyway it was always good for people watching.

The ride home brought me within a couple of blocks of where I figured Bridgett would be. I had almost considered giving her up as some kind of New Year's resolution I was starting to feel dependent on her. If I was in town on the weekend, I almost always had her over for a night.

Sometimes two.

It didn't exactly fit my miserly nature, but I needed the release and the sleep. More and more often, I was finding myself unable to think as clearly as I normally did, and it worried me more than I cared to admit. My sessions with Bridgett were more expensive than going to see Mark the Shrink, but they kept me going, and I had a lot to get done. Talking to him left me cold inside Bridgett was warm.

I had seen Mark Duncan again the other day.

"How do you think your experiences changed you?"

"They didn't."

"Evan, no one comes out of something like that without some damage."

"Not a mark on me they were really careful about that."

"There are other kinds of scars."