Death Takes a Partner: A Mary Jo Assassin Novel Read online

  Next, she headed back to the landfill, made some mention to the man taking her money that it was her second trip because she was cleaning house. He didn’t care. He was about to close up for the night.

  She tossed the three bags over the edge and into the stinking mess of the landfill.

  A moment later the large grader covered all three with a layer of dirt.

  She could feel the slight relief and excitement course through her.

  A job finished.

  Her tracks completely covered.

  Nothing could lead anyone back to her for the deaths today.

  So Mary Jo headed home once again.

  She had played the happy wife for the last year, now she had a new part to play for a while.

  She had to play the part of the grieving widow.

  Sam’s wife would be grieving as well tonight.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTER MARY JO came back once again, Jean went to the panel in her closet and pulled out a police scanner. If Sam miraculously showed up, she would explain where it had come from, if she couldn’t hide it in time.

  Or she would just kill him and abort this job. Something clearly had happened and she had no idea what.

  She was shocked when she turned on the police scanner. It was going crazy.

  It took her a few minutes to piece it all together, but it seemed that while responding to the report of a body in the rock quarry (more than likely Sam’s) just outside of town, Chief Hanson had been killed along with two other detectives by sniper fire.

  No suspects at all.

  “Well I’ll be a bitch’s bastard,” Jean said, standing and pacing in the living room.

  She knew exactly what had happened. The bastard who had hired her to kill Chief Hanson had hired another assassin as well.

  And the other assassin had used poor Sam as bait to get Chief Hansen into a dead zone at the bottom of a rock quarry for an easy kill.

  And that other assassin was none other than Mary Jo, the chief’s wife.

  Jean had married or slept with her target many times over the centuries. It was a very easy way to get close enough to the target to know how to deal with finding an easy way to kill the target and not have any evidence lead to you.

  And sometimes it was actually fun.

  Jean stared down the quiet suburban street at Mary Jo’s house. Jean was sure that Mary Jo had no idea that she had just killed the husband of another assassin. Jean wouldn’t hold that against Mary Jo, but it was something just not done.

  In fact, assassins never worked together. Or as far as Jean knew they didn’t.

  And they were never hired for the same job and never sent to compete. Jean had no doubt that the bastard who had hired the both of them was going to pay and pay large.

  But now Jean had to figure out if she was going to let Mary Jo know she was part of the same ancient order of assassins. Over the centuries, Jean had met fewer than twenty of the other assassins. All of them had been women like her, most were small, like her and Mary Jo.

  And all looked like they could never hurt a flea.

  Jean had no idea if there were male assassins with the order. She had never asked. In fact, the last time she communicated with anyone directly in the organization had been long before the First World War. The assassins were just independent contractors, living and working on their own terms and in their own ways. Killing when the money was good enough, but never just for sport.

  The bastard that had hired them both was going to pay. But the question now was should Jean contact Mary Jo or just let events play out?

  At the moment, she needed to just let events play out. She had no other choice. She had to play the surprised and suddenly grieving widow.

  And she had to play it perfectly.

  She wasn’t worried. It was a part she had played many, many times over the centuries.

  PART THREE

  Complication

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JEAN HAD BEEN suspicious of the hug from the young woman cop from the instant it happened. It had gone on far too long.

  Not that Jean minded being hugged by a woman. In fact, she liked a lot more from women than just hugs. But the cop’s hug had been inappropriate and bumbling. Like a high school boy on his first date.

  Even with the two cops giving her the news that her husband had been killed, that hug had been wrong.

  Jean had played out the scene perfectly, pretending to melt into a pile and then slowly recovering when told her about her husband.

  As the cops left, that was when the woman cop had hugged her.

  So Jean watched the two cops go down the street to give the same news to Mary Jo. When they entered Mary Jo’s home, Jean quickly went to her closet and got out a scanner.

  The bitch had planted an audio scanner in her collar. The scanner was powerful and tiny.

  Very tiny. But not top of the line by any means.

  Amateur.

  The rest of the house was clear.

  Jean quickly went to the garage and flicked a hidden switch there. A small screen appeared and she knew instantly that there were no scans or cameras around her house or in the general neighborhood.

  Jean left the bug in place in her collar and went back to the living room to watch until the two cops left Mary Jo’s house. Someone was clearly trying to double-cross her and more than likely Mary Jo.

  To play into the script that whoever was listening would expect, she broke into sobs and tears a few times. She really didn’t feel bad for losing poor old Sam. He had been a nice guy. Not much more.

  So what was an amateur doing planting a bug on her? And how did the young cop even know about her?

  More than likely the young cop thought of herself as a killer and had been told, more than likely by the client, that Jean and Mary Jo needed to be eliminated.

  How the client had gotten that information was the problem that also needed to be solved.

  The young cop was an amateur, clearly not from the order.

  Jean quickly scribbled some notes on a yellow legal pad after the two cops drove away, then headed out the front door.

  It seemed the question of when or if she should tell Mary Jo she had also been hired for this target had been answered.

  Now was the time.

  She couldn’t believe Mary Jo wouldn’t have spotted the bug, but better safe than sorry.

  And one of them would need to deal with the problem.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MARY JO WAS watching television when the expected two uniformed cops came to her door.

  One was a woman cop who seemed to be almost in tears.

  They told Mary Jo the news and she broke down as the two cops expected her to do.

  They asked Mary Jo if there was anything they could do and Mary Jo told them she had a sister who would come over and stay with her. She didn’t, but the two cops bought it.

  Then the woman cop hugged her harder and longer than was necessary and gave Mary Jo her card for anything she needed.

  Mary Jo wondered if her good old husband had been getting a little of that on the side. He didn’t seem to be the type. But that had sure been a strange hug.

  Mary Jo was about to go fix herself that long-overdue second Screwdriver after the two officers left when her alarm bells went off.

  Instead, she went to her bedroom, all the while pretending to be distraught.

  She quickly used a scanner she kept hidden in the back of her dresser drawer to check for audio and visual bugs in the house or surrounding neighborhood.

  The woman officer had planted one all right, under the back collar of her blouse.

  Audio only.

  Not high grade.

  There were no other bugs in the house or around the house or neighborhood.

  No young rookie cop would do that, especially so quickly after the entire department was tossed into panic mode. Besides, there was no reason to suspect Mary Jo.

  That girl worked for someone outside the
department. More than likely the same idiot who had paid Mary Jo to kill her husband and would pay a second half as soon as she reported in to him.

  And the stupid woman was a rookie at the job. Not a member of the order, that was for sure.

  Mary Jo shook her head.

  How the bastard had known it was her was a question she would deal with later.

  For now the bastard who had hired her would pay a far higher sum. You didn’t try to double-cross Mary Jo. Not ever. The idiot who had hired her had no idea the order of assassins even existed.

  So he thought Mary Jo would be easy to get rid of.

  Keeping up the act of a distraught wife for the bug, she put on thin, clear gloves and took from what looked like a perfume bottle a small drop of fluid on a pad. She carefully wrapped the pad in a tiny bag and stuck it in her pocket. It was an odorless, untraceable poison that would kill anyone who touched it within five minutes.

  She took off the glove and put it in her pocket as well.

  She was about to call the young officer when there was a knock at her door.

  She glanced at the security feed to see the face of Sam’s recently widowed wife.

  She was a beautiful woman. Wow, just stunning.

  But what the hell was she doing here at this point in time?

  Mary Jo, making sure her tears were in place on her face, opened up the door.

  The woman facing her was about Mary Jo’s size and so beautiful it took Mary Jo’s breath away. The woman had deep green eyes that seemed to see everything and a body that under other circumstances, Mary Jo wouldn’t have minded spending time exploring.

  A lot of time, actually.

  It took Mary Jo a moment to say to the woman, who was also crying, “I’m sorry, this is a bad time.”

  The woman nodded. “I know. I just want to say how sorry I am for your loss.”

  At that moment, the woman standing in the door put up a finger to her lips for Mary Jo to say nothing more, then held up a yellow legal pad against her chest for only Mary Jo to see.

  On the pad it said:

  I am being monitored. Audio only as far as I can tell. I assume you are as well. The young woman cop who gave us the news about our husbands planted the bug. I am also with the order.

  Mary Jo felt stunned.

  Completely stunned.

  Clearly the jerk that had hired her had hired another assassin for the same target.

  Mary Jo nodded as the other woman pointed to her collar, the same place the cop had planted the bug on Mary Jo.

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo said, following along on the speaking script they clearly were both on now. “Can you come in for a moment?”

  The woman nodded. “Only a moment.”

  “I am sorry for your loss as well,” Mary Jo said as she closed the door. “It is horrid what has happened.”

  The moment the door closed the other woman stopped actually crying and so did Mary Jo.

  The woman said, “Thank you.” Her voice sounding like she was barely holding it together while her face clearly wasn’t following the part.

  The woman turned the page on the notebook. There Mary Jo read:

  My guess is we were both hired for the same target. Now clearly someone is trying to double-cross us both. Clear us both out of the picture.

  Mary Jo nodded and said aloud, “Do you have family to come and help you?”

  “I have a sister,” the other woman said. “By the way, my name is Jean.”

  “I am Mary Jo,” Mary Jo said, taking the pad from Jean’s hand and the pen.

  Mary Jo quickly wrote:

  Discovered the bug. About to call the bitch who planted it and deal with her.

  “I’m so sorry we had to meet like this,” Jean said, smiling at Mary Jo.

  Mary Jo had a hunch she would come to love that smile.

  “I am too,” Mary Jo said as Jean wrote on the pad:

  Need help?

  Mary Jo shook her head.

  “Maybe through these trying times we can be of support to one another,” Jean said.

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo said, taking back the pad. “I would like that.”

  She wrote on the pad:

  Got this. The little bitch cop will be dead in thirty minutes.

  Jean nodded. “Good.”

  It was clear to Mary Jo she meant both the seeing each other and taking care of the bug planter.

  Jean took the pad back and wrote:

  I will contact the order and tell them what happened. Ask how someone could track us…

  “Thank you,” Mary Jo said, nodding.

  Jean opened the door, leaving the pad of paper. Then with a smile at Mary Jo, Jean said, “We both have things we need to take care of.”

  She indicated her collar and then turned to go down the sidewalk and back to her home.

  Mary Jo just stood there for a moment, watching her go before closing the door.

  So someone had hired two assassins to kill the same target. And then tried to double-cross both.

  What an idiot.

  The guy was going to pay and pay large. And pay them both.

  But first Mary Jo had to take care of the immediate problem of the bug and the young cop who planted it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JEAN WAS STUNNED at the reaction she had had seeing Mary Jo up close. The woman was stunningly beautiful. And her dark brown eyes were something Jean knew she could stare into for a very long time.

  Mary Jo seemed to be shorter than Jean, if that was possible, and, of course, in perfect shape. And Mary Jo had what looked to be perfect, smooth skin.

  The reaction to Mary Jo had been unexpected and had actually caught Jean by surprise, something that was difficult to do in general.

  She walked slowly along the sidewalk toward her own home. All she could think about was seeing Mary Jo without clothes on, sliding into Jean’s hot tub on her back deck.

  The idea of that just made Jean short of breath.

  She pretended to sob slightly for the bug on her collar, but the sob was more of a shudder of anticipation.

  She had met very, very few other assassins over the years. And her last real relationship (not counting the fake marriages to the likes of poor old Sam) had been almost a hundred years earlier. She had fallen completely in love with a woman named Sarah and the two of them had traveled the world as traveling companions. Sarah had died of consumption after fifteen years together.

  A wonderful fifteen years.

  And never since that point had Jean felt an attraction toward another person like she had felt this evening for Mary Jo.

  This could be a problem, of that there was no doubt. There were no rules in the order forbidding a relationship between two assassins, and Jean actually had no idea if Mary Jo would even be attracted to her.

  But for the moment, they were both stuck three houses apart in the same neighborhood in the same small New York town, playing the same grieving widow part.

  So it would be interesting.

  Jean reached her front door and tried to shake the image of a naked Mary Jo from her mind.

  That was a hard image to clear.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MARY JO CLOSED the door on Jean and stood and thought for a moment. This had gone from a simple target to really twisted in very quick order. Clearly the client who had hired her hadn’t trusted she would get the job done, so he had hired another assassin.

  Or maybe Mary Jo had been the backup and just got to the target first. No way of knowing.

  And then the client had hired a rookie killer to take care of both of them after the job was finished.

  This needed to get cleaned up and cleaned up fast.

  Mary Jo took a deep breath, dropped back into acting for the bug in her collar and called the young woman officer’s number on the card.

  “I want to see my husband.”

  “I don’t think that is such a good idea,” the young woman cop said.

  Mary Jo nodded. Both of t
hem were right on the script that Mary Jo knew would happen.

  “I’m coming to the station anyway,” Mary Jo said, and hung up.

  Mary Jo smiled. That would screw with the young twit’s mind.

  Ten minutes later, Mary Jo pulled up out front after pretending to cry most of the way to the station so that anyone listening to the bug wouldn’t be shocked.

  When she parked, Mary Jo spent a moment putting on the one clear glove and getting the poison solution ready to go, all the while pretending to cry.

  The young woman cop met Mary Jo at the big double door. Concrete steps led up into the front desk of the station. Around them the night was still warm, without even a breeze.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” the young cop said. “Your husband was shot and they need to do an autopsy.”

  Mary Jo had the poison pad in her hand and her hands were covered in the thin, almost invisible gloves with fake fingerprints.

  “You may be right,” Mary Jo said after a moment, keeping on the script that she expected. “I don’t know what I am thinking.”

  She gave the young cop a hug, rubbing the pad along her neck before backing away.

  “I’m sure sorry,” Mary Jo said.

  “It’s understandable,” the young cop said.

  The young woman cop had no idea what Mary Jo really meant and that actually, she wasn’t sorry at all.

  Suddenly the young cop looked pale and swallowed hard.

  Mary Jo took her under her arm and turned to take her up the three steps and into the station. The drug was very fast acting and this woman would be dead in five minutes tops.

  As she helped the woman up the steps, Mary Jo pretended to pause and stagger a moment. As she did, hidden from view from any camera, she slipped off the gloves and tossed them into a garbage can near the front door. The can was full of Burger King cups and food bags from the nearby fast food restaurant.