Neal knew his contact had never actually seen her at the house he’d gone to so it was possible she hadn’t been there, but he’d bet she had been. Otherwise why had that man pulled a gun on his contact? It could have been because he didn’t like people trespassing on his property. But from the account Neal had heard, his guy hadn’t done anything to warrant a gun being pulled on him. And Neal believed him. He’d always come through before.
“Come back to town. If she’s headed this way maybe you can cut her off before she makes it to the police station.” He grabbed what he thought of as his run-bag, which was loaded up with extra clothes, toiletries and a small stash of cash. Not a lot, but enough that he could get out of the city and stay unnoticed for a while. He’d need more to get out of the country though. He’d also need to buy a new ID, maybe a couple fake ones so he could lose anyone trying to track him and pick up all the cash he had stashed around the city. It wasn’t the police he was worried about as much as the Russians. A shiver snaked through him at the thought of what they’d do to him. Everyone knew the stories about how they tortured their victims, but Neal had actually seen someone brutalized once. It had been a warning of sorts by their enforcer. The scary fucker had wanted to make sure Neal knew what would happen to him if he crossed them.
“You still want her eliminated?”
He paused, thinking about his options. He needed her dead before she talked to the police. Although if they had evidence that he was lying then it wouldn’t matter if she was dead. Still, he couldn’t stand Taylor. She’d always looked at him as if she was better than him. She’d come from nothing, unlike him. And she thought she was better? “If possible, yes.”
“I’ll try to get her but if she’s coming in to the police station they might give her an escort. I’m not going down for you.”
Neal was well aware of that fact. His contact was only helping him for the money. “I’ll call you soon.” Hanging up, he pulled on a pair of slacks and a light-gray, wool pullover sweater. Getting out of his condo unseen wouldn’t be hard. He had good security but there were a couple exits he could use to get out without any guards seeing him on camera. Since he didn’t know when the police would be here, he wasn’t going to waste time waking up the woman in his bed.
If anything, maybe the cops would waste time questioning her—whatever her name was—which would give him a better lead time. Not that he was leaving the city. Not yet. He needed more information, needed to know exactly what the police had on him. If he didn’t have to flee, he didn’t want to. He liked his name and the life he’d created. Not to mention running from the Russians was stupid. But if the cops had proof that he’d killed Hugh and tried to kill Taylor then he was gone. He’d be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life, but fuck, he’d just have to do it because he wasn’t going in a cage.
Everything of importance he owned was in a storage locker, his safety deposit box, or on his boat. While he hated the thought of leaving his condo forever, there was nothing irreplaceable in it. Bag in hand, he grabbed his laptop and headed out. As he hurried to one of the stairwells, he pulled up his private bank account using his cell phone. When he couldn’t login, he frowned and called the bank. There seemed to be something wrong with his pin. A slither of anxiety worked its way through his system.
By the time he’d made a safe exit and left on foot, using the connection to a neighboring condo complex to locate his extra getaway car, he was beyond raging. With the exception of ten fucking dollars, all the money in his account was gone.
Transferred. To who the fuck knew where.
There was no way to stop it either. His heart beat out of control, the pulsing in his ears so loud he felt as if he was going to split apart at the seams. This couldn’t be happening.
Where had his money gone?
Taylor. That bitch must have taken it. Which meant he had no way to pay off the Russians.
She was too smart for her own good. Glancing around, he was thankful to see he was alone in the parking lot neighboring his condo. He wondered how long the cops would take to get there. Even with everything going on it made him laugh to think of how that woman in his bed would react to being woken up by cops. Too bad he wouldn’t get to see it.
Once he made it to the older model Prius he’d paid for in cash months ago, he started the engine. But he didn’t leave right away. The windows were tinted and he’d been sure to avoid all video surveillance when leaving out the side exit. He used his phone to check his work email, then half a dozen other work related accounts.