Shadow Cave by Angie West Read Free Book Online

blade. It was business. It was not personal —not anymore. But killing a woman ... well , that was different.
    Maybe it was because he had never done it before. He hoped that one of his colleagues would finish the job. The thought made him ill. Strange, but there it was. The man with no conscience had a heart after all. Lately he had dreamed of doing great things — things his mother would have been proud of. He wasn ’ t sure why.
    He shut the living room curtains with a sharp flick of his wrist and headed into the kitchen. It didn ’ t matter. Dreams were just that ...dreams . Besides that, it was long past too late to walk the straight and narrow. But killing a woman, a doctor at that , was pushing it even for him. He hoped that Claire Roberts, PhD, had been smart enough to get the hell out dodge.
    “ Is there anything to report? ” he wearily asked the dark haired man at the kitchen table.
    “ Everything is locked tight. ”
    “ Hah. ” Carl grunted and sat down at the far end of the table. “ You want coffee? ”
    “ Yeah, there ’ s some left. You want fresh? Lady ’ s got some fancy stuff up there too. Not that I ever drank that shit, but hey. ”
    “ Just black. I ’ ll get it myself, Earl. ”
    “ K. ”
    And that was that , Carl thought. A lot of people probably don ’ t think that hired guns and ex-cons sit around discussing the merits of flavored coffees , he thought, hiding his smile behind a cough and a quick sip of the strong brew.
    “ Tomorrow ’ s it then , ” Earl remarked , more to himself than to his silent companion.
    “ Looks like. ”
    “ And none too soon. I ’ m sick and tired of living in a tomb. It ’ s been two days. She ’ s not going to show. We aren ’ t getting paid to sit here all week anyway. ”
    “ We were paid until tomorrow , ” Carl agreed. “ That doesn ’ t mean we relax tonight. She still might show up. No mistakes. ” Even though he was pretty sure that taking the job in the first place had been a mistake.
    ***
    Earl nodded and sat back. He didn ’ t bother to mention he had seen the lady stop down the street the night before and speed away in the other direction. Had he bothered to report that handy bit of information to his boss or his partner they wouldn ’ t have be en there this long. Yet he had kept his mouth shut that night and was not about to break the silence. He would never admit that it was his fault they had been spotted and had their cover blown. If he hadn ’ t accidentally aimed the flashlight through the living room window, they would have had her. She had spotted the beam and his movement, he was sure of it. He hadn ’ t been able to see her face in the dark, but she had pulled a hard and fast U-turn and sped away. No, the pretty doctor was long gone , a nd they were wasting their time.
    “ So , vanilla or .... ” He peeked at the tiny label. “ Tiramisu? ”
    “ Shut up , Earl. ”
    “ Right. ” S ince he had no idea what in the hell tiramisu was, he spooned vanilla into the coffee maker and hit the button. He turned in time to catch the faintest hint of movement out the window to the left.
    Suddenly he was at the window, his eyes narrowed as he leaned over the windowsill .
    “ See something? ”
    “ Maybe. I ’ ll check it out. ”
    ***
    Damn, how deep is the thing buried ? I scowled at the dirt while I continued to dig — and pray. I could see the shadows of two men inside my kitchen.
    Finally! Oh, finally ! I nearly shouted in relief as the shovel struck something solid. I didn ’ t shout, of course, because that would have been a very bad idea, all things considered. I barely stopped myself from simply tossing the shovel down. Instead, I lowered it carefully onto the ground out of sight from the window and knelt down with the trowel. The bout of nerves was easing a little now that I wasn ’ t standing up ramming a shovel into the dirt with nothing but an old oak tree for protection. Why hadn ’ t I thought to bring