Page 15 of Talk to Me
“You’re scouting a potential contract,” I said abruptly and then winced at my big mouth.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Got this offer before, turned it down. They came back with almost double the fee. So I wanted a good look at the target. Want to know why they want them scratched off.”
“You don’t know why.” It wasn’t a question. I was tempted to dig deeper into the location. Strip mine the area for data and see who he was tracking.
“No,” he said. “That part bugs me. Bugs me that they are offering twice as much for something that seems a pretty straightforward job.”
“Then why not go to someone else? Someone with less discerning taste?” Because as much as I admired Remy and enjoyed his acerbic wit. He’d been my client the longest of all my regulars. Also, my first in this new life and job.
We went back…
Something tickled in the back of my mind. McQuade had a similar issue. My clients didn’t generally cross paths. Though McQuade and Remy had been in the same place during the same conflict once. Thankfully, their different jobs never brought them to blows.
“You never ask me about my targets,” he murmured and I kind of wish I could find him on one of the street cams. As it was, I had a good idea of where he was.
“You tell me what I need to know. You ask me the questions you need answered.”
“That’s it? No looking deeper?”
“Do you want me to look deeper?”
“Do you know that answering a question with a question is annoying?”
I smiled at the drop of humor in his voice. “Is it?”
He chuckled. “Never change, Patch. Never change.”
“I don’t intend to. This works because you tell me what you need and I find it.” I zipped up the last file and sent it off. “The reason that job bugs you is they want you to do it. They aren’t being dissuaded by your no. The fact they are offering you more money is bait.”
“If I turn it down, what do you think they do next?”
“Depends on how badly they want you to do the job.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“Do you want me to look into this target?”
He went quiet. The silence elongated, until I wondered if we’d been cut off. “Not yet,” he said, finally. “If this is a trap for me, I don’t want you triggering it.”
So he did see it, and that let me breathe a little deeper.
“I’m here,” I reminded him.
“That’s what I adore about you,” he said. “Tell you what, next time we talk—tell me what your favorite kind of music is and if you know how to dance.”
“Next time?” I verified.
“Yep. Next time. Go watch your crazy show. What season are you on?”
“Why?”
“Cause I plan to watch it. The fact you like it means it might be important and I always do my research.”
A little shiver went through me. “Am I the target, Remy?”
“Never,” he whispered. “Always.”
“Thanks for clearing that up.”