The card was white with a number printed in black script, nothing but the number. I dialed and got Edward's twenty-four-hour answering service. I left a message, saying to call me ASAP, and Richard's number.
Richard's answering machine sat on the counter, connected by wires to the wall-mounted phone. The message light was blinking, but it wasn't my machine, so I didn't check it.
Richard came into the kitchen. His hair fell around his shoulders in tight, foaming waves, curlier from the French braid. His hair was brown, but light of almost any kind brought out golden highlights, hints of bronze. He was wearing a flannel shirt, forest green, with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, showing the fine muscles in his forearms. I'd seen the shirt before. It was high-quality flannel, soft as a blanket to touch. He had on jeans and no socks. He padded barefoot towards me.
The phone rang. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. Who else could it be but Edward? "I' m expecting a call," I said.
"Help yourself."
I picked it up, and it was Edward. "What happened?" he asked.
I told him.
"Somebody wants you dead quick."
"Yeah. When you said no, they went out and bought some cheap local talent."
"You get what you pay for," Edward said.
"If there'd been two of them, Edward, I wouldn't be here."
"You aren't going to like my news."
"How much worse could it get?" I asked.
"I answered a message just before yours. They upped the offer to five hundred thousand dollars, if you were dead within twenty-four hours."
"Sweet Jesus, Edward, I'm not worth that kind of money."
"They knew you blew away their hitter, Anita. They knew the hit had failed."
"How?" I asked.
"I don't know yet. I'm trying to find out who's putting up the money, but it'll take a little time. The safeguards that keep me out of it protect the client, too."
I was shaking my head back and forth. "Why twenty-four hours for the hit?"
"Something's happening that they want you out of the way for, something big."
"But what?"
"You know what it is, Anita. You may not be aware that you know, but you do. Something worth this kind of money that you could put a stop to. There can't be that many choices."
"I can't think of a single thing, Edward."
"Think harder," he said. "I'll be there as early as I can tomorrow. Watch your back. Don't drive your car."
"Why not?"
"Bombs," he said.
"Bombs," I repeated.
"For half a million dollars, Anita, they'll get someone good. A lot of professionals will do you from a nice, safe distance. A bomb, a high-powered rifle."
"You're scaring me," I said.
"Good, maybe you'll be careful."
"I'm always careful, Edward."
"I apologize. You're right, but be more careful. I didn't expect them to try a local hit."
"You're worried," I said.
He was quiet for a second. "We can keep taking out the hitters, but eventually we've got to get to the man with the money. As long as the contract's out there, somebody'll keep taking it."
"It's just too much damn money to pass up," I said.
"A lot of professionals won't take a hit with a time limit on it," he said. "Some of the best are out of the running because of the deadline. I won't take a hit with special circumstances."
"I hear a 'but' coming up," I said.
He laughed, quietly. "For half a million dollars, people will break their rules."
"Not comforting," I said.
"Not meant to be," he said. "I'll be at Richard's tomorrow early."
"Do you know where it is?"
"I could find it, but let's not play games. Give me directions."
I did. "I would tell you to stay indoors, but you've been dating Richard for months. A good hitter will be able to find you. I don't know if you're safer inside or on the move."
"I'll pack extra firepower and be more paranoid than usual."
"Good. See you tomorrow." He hung up, and I was left holding the buzzing phone.
Richard was staring at me. "Did I hear you say twenty-four hours for the hit?"
I hung up the phone. "I'm afraid so." I hit the message button on his machine out of habit. It whirred as it rewound.
"Why, for God's sake?" Richard asked.
"I wish I knew."
"You mentioned money twice. How much?"
I told him.
He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, looking shocked. Couldn't blame him. "Anita, don't take this wrong. To me you're worth any amount of money, but why would somebody pay half a million dollars to kill you?"
For someone who knew nothing about assassins, he'd grasped the big question quite nicely. I walked over to him. I ran my fingertips through his hair. "Edward says I must already know what the big event is, that I wouldn't be worth this kind of money, with this kind of deadline, unless I was already intimate with the situation."
He looked up at me. "But you don't know, do you?"
"Not a clue."
He laid his hands on either side of my waist, pulling me against him, wrapping his arms completely around my waist.
The message machine clicked to life and made us both jump. We laughed nervously, not just from fear. There was a heat to his eyes as he stared up at me that made me want to blush or kiss him. I hadn't decided which.
Two hang-ups, his younger brother Daniel, sorry Richard had canceled their rock climbing tomorrow.
I leaned towards Richard. His lips were the softest I'd ever kissed. The taste of him was intoxicating. How could I be thinking of giving him up?
The last message began playing: "Richard, this is Stephen. Oh, God, pick up. Please pick up. Please be there."
We froze, listening.
"They're trying to get me to do one of those movies. Raina won't let me leave. Richard, where are you? They're coming. I've got to go. Oh, God, Richard." The phone clicked dead. A mechanical voice said, "End of messages."
Richard stood up, and I let him. "I thought Raina had stopped making pornographic movies," I said.
"She promised not to make snuff films, that was all." He replayed the message. The time on it was 12:03.
"That's less than an hour ago," I said.
"I can't leave you alone here tonight. What if another killer comes?" He paced in a tight circle. "But I can't abandon Stephen."
"I'll go with you," I said.
He shook his head, walking for the bedroom. "I can survive the games that the pack plays, Anita. You're human, they'll tear you up."
"They'll tear you up, too, Richard."
He just kept walking. "I can handle myself."
"Are you at least going to call some of the pack that's on your side? Get some backup?"
He sat down on his bed, pulling on socks. He glanced up at me, then shook his head. "If I take my army, this'll turn into a war. People will get killed."
"But if you go in alone, you only endanger yourself, is that it?"
He glanced up at me. "Exactly."
I shook my head. "And what happens to Stephen if you go out there and get killed? Who rescues him?"
That stopped him for a second. He frowned, fishing his shoes out from under the bed. "They won't kill me."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because if Marcus kills me outside the challenge circle, he doesn't retain leadership of the pack. It's like cheating. The pack would turn on him."
"What if you accidentally died in a fight with someone else?"