Page 88 of Shephard

Or woman.

It took less than an hour to gather what Maggie had been trying to convey. The murders had been cold, calculated, and every effort had been taken to destroy the victims’ identities. But the coroner had done her job, including taking photographs of the cleaned-up bodies lying dead on the cold stainless steel table. There was no doubt about who they were, men who’d dared cross Boris years before. One had been a CIA agent, the very one I’d had a run-in with.

He’d either found his way into the country or had hired assassins, like he’d done before to handle his dirty work. They’d never survived after the operation.

I sat back in my chair, fighting the exhaustion. What I didn’t like was the obvious. Danger Falls? Boris had been tipped off, and in my mind, there was a single person who could have found out my possible whereabouts.

I toyed with the trackpad, shifting from one picture to the other. The sudden subtle ring on my phone forced me to look at mywatch. I’d been at this for over two hours. Seeing the encrypted name on the screen forced me to suck in my breath.

Calls in the middle of the night were never good.

“Your father was working for a highly effective and extremely dangerous group of men in Philadelphia. He was considered their enforcer. The family was killed in a major building explosion, the people working for them scattering. Law enforcement didn’t bother looking for them, which is an indication the family was targeted for elimination for the powers that be. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Mafia?”

“Not mafia. More powerful. I’ll ask you again. Do you understand we haven’t had this conversation?”

The group was even more powerful? Then they had political clout. Which was why it had been entirely possible for Boris to make an educated guess about where I might land. Family always came first. Right? Even he’d made certain his wife had been protected.

Until I’d killed her accidentally while she’d been trying to defend him.

That’s why the man was really pissed, eager to seek revenge. She’d been his entire world outside of war and slaughter.

“Oh, I get it.” My father had been allowed to walk away, saved from the horrific event. The powers that be had been members of whatever task team had been established by a particular law enforcement agency. Likely the mission had been mandated by the mayor or even the governor. It wasn’t unheard of to this day,although tougher to make happen given modern technology and security methods.

So Pops had been allowed to build another life.

“Rich?”

He laughed. “Richer than sin. They still are. And they’re still dangerous.”

Now I knew where my father had gotten the money, keeping it locked away until he was certain no one cared where he’d fled to. Smart man.

“It’s a subject that’s off limits. Do not contact me again about it.”

I’d pulled in my one favor with the man. There would be no others.

I held the phone in my hand for a few seconds, debating contacting the man in question. Not yet. There was no reason to confront him. He wasn’t a part of this, although his past could always come back to haunt him just like it had with me.

I shifted my attention back to the limited files I’d created on Boris. Part of my mercenary training included memorizing as many details on a target as possible. Coordinates were sent but immediately deleted and that was only if the target changed destinations mid mission.

However, my collection of notes had felt necessary. It was short and included only the missions where I believed additional trouble would occur in the future. Boris was on that list. If only I’d gotten off the shot before almost being detained by the KGB. Hindsight and wishful thinking also weren’t a part of my training.

The revenge was underway, the people of Danger Falls in actual danger themselves if Boris took a liking to the area. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

But he wanted one thing, which was why he was risking it all on coming into the United States.

My head on a silver platter.

I pulled up the last known photograph taken of Boris using a long-range camera lens taken from a building a couple hundred yards away. While it was a clear shot, it had been taken on a snowy day in Moscow, which distorted the photograph to some degree. But not what he was doing.

He adored what he called a shooting gallery. He’d line up his enemies after beating them with a bullwhip and allow his soldiers to shoot until they ran out of bullets. I closed my eyes, rubbing them with my thumb and two fingers. I had a horrific headache, not only from lack of sleep, but also because my mind was filled with data I’d collected from all the years of chasing targets. One after another. Finding the perfect hunting ground had become my only objective and joy.

I quickly glanced at the screen once again, wincing from the bright light. I had the brightness all the way up, which was the way I usually liked it. Not tonight. Tonight I needed the darkness even if that’s when the demons came out to play.

The ache only intensified as my mind shifted to another time period altogether. The fucker had managed to corner me with no way out. It had just been him and me and the fucker had almost beaten me at my own game.

Whoosh.