Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I’ve got my money on the latter. I wouldn’t be surprised if Teszner did such a bad job in sewing the eye back on that it dropped off at some stage. The chip could’ve been washed down a drain or flattened by a shoe. If my guess about the dinosaur is right, that would certainly explain the toy’s missing eye.
Sav shakes his head. “Idiot.”
“Yep.”
He motions at Kent. “He’s surprisingly clean.”
“This was personal.”
“And you’re surprisingly calm.”
I shrug. “The kill is over.”
Tilting his head, Sav studies me. “Sometimes, Dante, I think you have DID.”
“Are you slapping labels on me, Sav?” I grin. “That’s not nice.”
“You must have a split personality if you can swing between this in the morning,” he motions at the rusted meat hook that squeaks as its charge sways back and forth, “and acting the perfectly eligible pretty boy bachelor at all those black tie parties in the evening.”
“Fuck you, Sav.” He knows I hate it when he calls me pretty. “You’re not any better.”
“Do you need help with the cleanup?”
“I’ve got it under control.”
“Detroit?”
“Already handled. The loser I took down there was a loner. He wasn’t affiliated with any organization we need to worry about.”
He reaches out to pat my shoulder but must think the better of it because he drops his hand and simply says, “Take care,” as he struts away.
I nod at Kent. “Let’s get out of here.”
He hands me a cloth to wipe my face and holds open a plastic bag in which I dump the gloves I peel from my hands. I hose myself down with freezing cold water in the onsite area where the meat processing used to take place, wash my hair, scrub my body and nails with a strong disinfectant, and dress in clean clothes and shoes.
The cleanup team is already at work when Kent and I leave. I prefer to go straight back to Tatiana, but I never leave a site until I’m certain the team in charge of getting rid of the evidence has done a good job.
We spend the night in the safe house we keep in Boston. The next morning, I inspect the abattoir. Sav owns the non-operational plant. It hasn’t been used as a slaughterhouse in years. Well, not for animals. Sav claims to have bought the old factory for investment purposes. He’ll make good money when he sells it to the property developers who are planning on constructing a luxury hotel on the site. Just as well the guests won’t know what went down here when they put their heads on their goose feather pillows.
Satisfied that the team did a thorough job, Kent and I head for the airport to meet my pilot. On the way there, I stop at a sports outlet store. I’m in a rush to get to Denver, and it’s not only because I’m eager to move forward with my plans. It’s got a lot to do with a small boy who’s waiting for me and a woman who’d rather never see me again.
It’s early afternoon when we land in Denver. I send Kent to rest at the hotel where my men are checked in while I go straight to the house where Tatiana works. I go around the back first, knowing I have a good chance of finding Noah in the yard.
Reino and Ulysses stand under the tree, their postures relaxed but their eyes vigilant. Ted is patrolling the perimeters of the property.
“Boss.” Reino nods in greeting. “They’re inside.”
I go through the back door. Noah sits at the kitchen table with his storybook about the yellow plane open in front of him, swinging his legs as he looks at the pictures. I dismiss the two men who guard the door, telling them to take a break.
Noah’s face lights up when he sees me. He jumps off the chair and runs over before throwing himself into my arms.
“Dante!”
I pick him up and hug him to me. He wraps his small arms around my neck, holding on so tightly he nearly strangles me.
“Easy, buddy.” I loosen his hold and tickle his stomach, which makes him giggle. “You’re like an anaconda.”
“You’re back,” he says with obvious relief.
“Of course I am. I said I would be, didn’t I?” I put him down. “Where’s your mom?”
“In the basement. Jazz is washing the floors. I’m not allowed to walk on them until they’re dry.”
I ruffle his hair. “I thought you’d be playing in the yard.”
He averts his gaze. “I was waiting for you.”
“Hey.” I lift his chin with a finger. “I’ll never lie to you.”
“Lying is bad.”
“That’s right. It sounds as if your mom taught you good values.”
He makes big, innocent eyes. “She says I’m not allowed to speak with food in my mouth.”
“That’s good manners.”
“Do you have good manners, Dante?”
“Depends,” I mutter with a smile.
He studies me. “Where did you go?”