No One Needs to Know by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online Page B

glanced over at the woman in the window once again. Her face was expressionless. She pointed a gun at him.
    “Oh, Christ, no,” he cried. “Wait—”
    Two shots rang out, one right after another.
    The first bullet went through his hand, a defense wound.
    The second one went through his eye.

    Without passion, she stared at the two dead young men in the front seat of the Audi. Blood dripped down the passenger window—and the windshield.
    Her paid assassins had been more like gifted amateurs than professionals. They’d been subcontracted by her—and they’d been reliable up until this last job. She didn’t blame them for killing the wrong woman. That wasn’t why the two men were dead now.
    She kept tabs on all the police and fire department bulletins. There had been one this morning—from a witness to the food truck explosion on Friday afternoon. The waitress had seen Maureen Forester’s last customers: two men in their twenties, one on crutches. A vague, but accurate enough description of the two young men had gone out on an APB. The police regarded them as “persons of interest” in the incident.
    Now the woman needed to make sure the police never found them. Climbing inside the blood-splattered car, she collected their wallets and their phones. She wasn’t too concerned about staining her clothes. It was one reason she always wore black while on the job. The blood didn’t show.
    Once she was outside again, she tossed the wallets and phones into a small plastic bag. Then she pulled out her own phone and made a call. A man answered: “Yeah?”
    “I need you to come clean this up and make it disappear for me,” she said.
    “Will do,” said the man on the other end of the line. Then he clicked off.
    Like her, he was a professional. He’d get the job done.
    The woman clicked off. She stared at the two corpses inside the crimson-stained car, two talented, young amateur killers. No one would ever find them or connect them to her client.
    That was a problem easily fixed.
    But Cheryl Wheeler was still alive.
    The woman told herself she was working with another professional now. No subcontractors this time. She’d just have to be patient and wait it out a couple of weeks.
    Then Cheryl Wheeler would be another problem easily fixed.

C HAPTER F IVE
    Wednesday, June 4, 9:41 P.M.
    Ellensburg
     
    T he third Molly Ringwald Heavenly Chocolate cake still had twelve more minutes in the oven until it was ready. Two were already baked, frosted, and in their Tupperware containers. Laurie had promised her boss, Paul, the cakes tomorrow if he put one of the other cooks on tonight’s solo closing shift.
    She just didn’t want to be there today, not after last night. Joey had had a fever—and a bad cough. Listening to him hacking away was heartbreaking. Laurie had spent a good chunk of the evening in the bathroom, rocking him while the hot water in the shower had gone full blast. The steam had helped clear out his little lungs. But he hadn’t fallen asleep until three-thirty in the morning.
    Joey’s temperature was near normal today, thank God. Now he was asleep in his room. Some Jennifer Aniston movie provided harmless distraction during the lulls in baking. Laurie also kept busy with an ongoing project—emptying out her big antique desk in the living room. In preparation for moving, she’d been cleaning out all the drawers, cabinets, and closets this week. It was amazing how much crap she’d accumulated in three years. She’d filled five big plastic trash bags with junk.
    Yesterday, she’d given Paul her two weeks’ notice, asking him to keep quiet about it. She didn’t want it getting around that she was leaving. She’d even stuffed those trash bags in two different dumpsters, so nobody would catch on that her unit was being vacated.
    In two weeks, it would be as if she and Joey had disappeared.
    She’d wanted to move for a while. But Tad McBride and his brother, Ryder, had helped set things in motion. They