“Yeah. Know what that’s like.”
“Believe me, it’ll be a long time before you’re that old.”
CHAPTER 9
We followed Aldrich for the rest of the day. We established that he had a partner, but I wouldn’t have shot him on the job anyway. I had too much respect for the police institution to kill a cop in uniform, even a fake cop.
We’d already decided our basic plan. Kill Aldrich and hide his body well enough that it wouldn’t be found. Then I’d leak his real identity, and it would be presumed that he’d bolted, which would avoid the shit storm that comes with a murdered police officer.
When his shift ended, Aldrich went drinking with the guys. Jack decided that the bar was busy enough for a middle-aged couple to slip in undetected. We’d only stand out if we made ourselves stand out, which we had no intention of doing. The more we watched Aldrich, the better we’d get to know him—his personality and habits. Jack thought it was safe. As for whether Aldrich might recognize me . . .
Have I ever fantasized about that? Meeting him someplace and he recognizes me, and sees that I’m not a helpless little girl anymore? Hope that he’d seen me in the papers after I shot Wayne Franco. That he’d know what I’m capable of, and so when I look into his eyes, I’ll see fear? Of course I’ve thought of it, and I’ve savored those thoughts. But realistically, I wasn’t sure he’d recognize me even without the disguise.
I’d only been Amy’s little cousin. An obstacle to be tied up and left. That was the last time he’d seen me. I never faced him in court. My family didn’t want me to testify, and my dad had persuaded the prosecutor to agree. Aldrich probably didn’t even remember my name. I just hope he remembered Amy’s. And if he didn’t, I sure as hell planned to remind him . . . right before I put a bullet between his eyes.
Jack was still careful. He chose a table off to the side, at least twenty feet from Aldrich and the other cops at the bar. He ordered a beer. I got a Coke. We settled in to observe our target.
When Aldrich used to come around the station, my dad and the other cops wanted nothing to do with him. They said it was because they suspected him of dealing marijuana, but in small-town Ontario, that’s like running moonshine in the Ozarks. The truth was that they just didn’t like Aldrich. As I listened to him with his colleagues here, I could tell nothing had changed. He was welcome to hang out with them and join in general conversation, but that was it.
Jack was facing Aldrich. I had my back to him. I was regaling Jack with the story of a honeymooning couple who had equated “wilderness lodge” with “nudist camp,” and taken to hiking, swimming, and even picnicking naked. Which gave them quite an appetite, and not for Emma’s home-cooked meals. All of which wouldn’t have been so bad if the lodge hadn’t been hosting some kind of teen purity group from the U.S. I’d tried to point out to the group leaders that the couple was married, but it hadn’t really helped.
I noticed Jack’s attention shift and stopped talking.
“On the move,” Jack said, as he tracked his prey. “Piss break. Fuck. Coming this way. Keep looking at me. Keep talking.”
I nodded and glued my gaze to his. “So I have a chat with the couple, and we establish a schedule of when and where they can have their clothing off—”
Aldrich stopped three feet past the table. He looked back over his shoulder—directly at me.
“Keep talking,” Jack murmured.
I did. I have no idea what I said, just blather, my gaze still on Jack, sweat breaking out along my hairline as I could feel Aldrich staring right at me. Then he continued walking.
“He looked right at me,” I whispered when he was out of sight.
Jack shrugged. “Checking you out.”
“I’m well above his age range for that and this outfit is definitely not bar bait.”
Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Still gonna look.”
I doubted that. Even on my best days, I’m not bar bait. When I hit puberty, guys started telling me I was cute, and twenty years later, the description hasn’t changed. Looking like the quintessential girl next door is helpful for a hitman, but it doesn’t make guys stare in bars.
“I think he recognized me,” I said. “It was as if he was trying to place me.”
Jack shook his head. “Too many years. Good disguise. He was checking you out.”
“He’s standing at the back by the restroom, looking straight at me.”
Jack turned.
“Don’t—” I began.
Too late. Jack turned right around in his seat and stared at Aldrich. This wasn’t his usual don’t-fuck-with-me stare, like he’d given the motel guy who’d complained about the noise. This look was ice-cold. I-want-to-blow-your-fucking-head-off cold. I shivered in spite of myself.
“Jack?” I whispered.
He snapped out of it, swung back to me, and took a gulp of his beer, as if to wash that look away.
“Could be,” he said as he finished.
“Could be what?”
“Might recognize you.”
My stomach clenched. “Goddamn it, if he knows who am I—”
“He’ll do what? Call the cops?”
I glowered at him.
“I mean it,” he said. “What’s he gonna do? He’s using fake ID. Impersonating a cop. On the run from rape charges. Got nowhere to turn. No one to tell. And what would he say?”
“I don’t want to take that chance. Can we leave now?”
“Makes it worse. Confirms it’s you. There a rear exit?”
I shook my head. The first thing I’d done when we came in was casually scout exits.
“Good. He can’t slip out.”
Aldrich returned by a route that didn’t take him past our seats. After a few minutes, Jack pulled a ten from his pocket and slapped it on the bill. “Let’s go.”
We left out the front door. As we passed a car, Jack glanced in the side-view mirror.
“Followed us out,” he said.
“Okay.” I struggled to keep calm. “How do you want to play this? Avoid the car, I presume, or he’ll run the plates.”
“Wild-goose chase. Let him have it.” Jack meant the plates wouldn’t lead anywhere and it would be more suspicious if we wandered aimlessly.
For someone who hates attention, I’m actually a good actor. Jack is, too. So as we headed for the car, I raised my voice to normal volume.
“I have a bunch of errands to run in the city before the wedding tomorrow afternoon,” I said. “That means an early morning, so I don’t want to be out too late tonight. Should we check into the hotel first or go straight to dinner?”
“We have one night without the kids,” Jack said. “Definitely to the hotel first.” He put his arm against my back, his fingers sneaking down to my ass. “That’s what room service is for, babe.”
I chuckled. “How many beers did you have?”
“A couple.”
“I believe the definition of a couple is two.”
He shrugged. “It was a multiple of two.”
I laughed and put out my hand. “Car keys, please.”
He started handing them over, then dangled them just out of reach. “Where are we going?”
“To the hotel. For rest, relaxation, and room service. Or something like that.”
He patted my ass while handing me the keys. “That’s my girl.”
As we got into the car, I said, “Okay, he’ll notice the rental stickers on the plate, which will make it tricky for him. The easiest thing to do is call the station and report he saw us heading for the highway driving erratically after leaving a bar. We’ll get stopped and carded. Which means I’m not taking the highway.”