Page 48 of Commit

Atlas looks at me sharply. “He was a hit?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Who ordered it?”

“Don’t know. It was done anonymously. Most are. It gives them an extra layer of protection.”

“You look into the guy?”

“Only as far as learning his routine, hangouts, and places he frequented. I’m not a bleeding heart or a vigilante with a noble cause. I kill who I’m paid to. I don’t care if they’re a saint or the devil incarnate, as long as the money is wired into my account.”

“You remember anything about him?”

“He was married. Worked in finance. Was screwing his secretary every Tuesday and Thursday at a seedy hotel when he told the wife he was working late. That’s where I took him out.”

“The secretary? You know anything about her?”

“You think she’s involved?”

“I’ve learned not to write off women as weak,” he responds.

“I don’t know much about her. She wasn’t my target. I know she was fresh out of her internship, and Spears was her mentor, but she wasn’t my concern.”

“She is now. I’ll look into her. She was young, maybe thought she was in love, and then her man was dead. And the only person to blame is the wife.”

“How very Dr. Phil of you. She could have killed the wife,” I concede. “I don’t see it, not a year after her lover’s death. If anything, she’s moved on by now. but stranger things have happened. I can tell you this: the wife’s not the one responsible for the hit on Jason. I saw the car she drove and clothes she wore. Her husband had her on a tight budget. She couldn’t afford me, so if the mistress blamed her that was based on feelings not on facts.”

“So husband and wife are killed a year apart by two different killers? And I’m not talking about you. You might have pulled the trigger, but someone else was holding the gun. Is there any way for you to find out who hired you?”

I shake my head. “People are anonymous for a reason. Nobody wants a hitman to have their personal details.”

“Maybe that’s what the scope reticle is about. A nod to you being a hit man with a sniper?”

“But then why not carve one into Jessica’s forehead? It was her husband I shot after all.”

He sits down and runs his fingers through his hair. “Why is nothing ever simple?”

“Simple would bore you,” I point out.

There’s a knock, and I close the file as Atlas calls for them to come in. Ivy opens the door, offering Atlas a smile that grows bigger when she spots me.

“Hey, Pete. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

She walks toward Atlas as he stands. She reaches up onto her tiptoes to kiss him as his hands slide around her hips, dragging her closer. She chuckles and pulls back a little.

“Where’s Iris?”

“Crap, I knew I forgot something.”

Atlas tenses, but Ivy cracks up. “She’s with the nanny. I wanted to surprise you and see if you wanted to grab a late lunch together. I didn’t realize Pete was with you, though.”

I stand up and take the file. “Don’t worry about me. I’m heading out anyway.”

“Are you sure? You could come with us.”

“No, he can’t,” Atlas growls, making me laugh when Ivy hits his chest.

“Don’t be mean. Why can’t he come?”