Finally he saw Salinas, only a couple of minutes late, and with three men behind him. The assassin studied the surroundings, but didn't see anything suspicious: he knew many of Salinas 's men on sight, so he didn't have to rely only on behavior in judging whether or not it was safe to approach. No one appeared to be lurking without reason, no one seemed to be trying to stay out of sight. Finally he left his own concealment and strolled forward, still eating his ice cream.
Salinas was irritably checking his watch when he looked up and saw the assassin. "You're late," he snarled as he gestured his men back.
"Long line at the ice-cream stand," the assassin said lazily. "What's up?"
Salinas looked around, then took an old-fashioned transistor radio from his pocket and turned it on. The volume was loud, so loud that if Salinas hadn't taken a step closer, the assassin couldn't have heard him.
"Drea stole two million bucks from me, four days ago, and took a powder. I want you to find her and take care of the matter. Permanently."
A rivulet of melted ice cream trickled down the cone. The assassin caught it with his tongue, hiding his surprise. "You sure? She didn't seem bright enough-though I guess that would be the proof, right?"
"I'm sure." Salinas gave a grim smile. "And, yeah, on the list of stupid things to do, ripping me off is right at the top."
Chapter Ten
NEVER PISS OFF A SMART WOMAN.
Given the timing, he didn't have to be a genius to understand what had happened. Drea had been more than upset by Salinas giving her away; she'd been furious. This wasn't just an "I'm leaving you" message, but an "I'm leaving you and take that you bastard!" gesture. As gestures went, it was an attention-getter.
Amused, he took another lick of ice cream. He was more inclined to applaud her than go hunting for her. Still, a job was a job. "Make your best offer," he drawled. "What's it worth to you?" He couldn't decide if he'd take the job until he knew how much was on the table.
Salinas looked around and thumbed the volume on the radio even higher. The people passing by gave him annoyed looks, not that he gave a shit. "The same amount she stole."
Two million, huh? That definitely put a different light on the situation. He'd have to think about it, but in the meantime he didn't want Salinas looking for anyone else to take care of the situation. If he didn't take the job, his delay would at least give Drea a better chance of getting away clean, and the thought gave him a certain satisfaction. He didn't have to like his clients, but he had nothing but contempt for Salinas.
"Half up front," the assassin said. "I'll let you know where to wire it." Then he tossed the rest of the ice-cream cone in a nearby trash can and strolled away, his manner relaxed, though his eyes never stopped searching his surroundings. He spotted someone who was almost certainly a fed, too suit-and-tie for his surroundings, stooping to tie his shoe while keeping his head slightly turned in Salinas 's direction. That would be Salinas 's tail, hurrying to catch up.
The assassin wasn't particularly concerned. His meeting with Salinas had taken less than a minute, not enough time for a tail to get in place and snap some photos. By the time the tail had arrived, the meeting was over and he was already walking away. He went across the Bow Bridge, then into the heavily wooded Ramble, where there was plenty of cover. Though the day was hot and humid, the temperature hovering close to ninety, there under the thick shade the air was cooler, and he could feel a slight but pleasant breeze against his skin.
He deliberately didn't think about the offer; time enough for that later, when he was certain he wasn't being followed. As a matter of habit he focused intensely on the right now, aware of everyone around him, whether or not anyone was approaching him from behind, what his ever-changing avenues of escape were. Paying attention to details had kept him alive this long, so he saw no reason to change his habits. That was why he spotted the second tail almost right away; this guy wore jeans and running shoes, so he wasn't the fed who'd been following Salinas.
The assassin calmly analyzed the situation. Just because this new tail wore casual clothes, didn't mean he wasn't a fed. It just meant he was better prepared. The FBI wouldn't have any reason for having him followed other than his meeting with Salinas; it was possible they were exploring any and all contacts. Or the tail could be one of Salinas 's goons, following him for God knows why. Maybe Salinas was pissed because he'd had to walk to the park, and he thought an attitude adjustment in the form of a beating was needed-though, in that case, he'd better send more than one man. Maybe he wanted to know where the assassin lived, no more than that, on the theory that there was no such thing as too much information.
He kept a steady pace. Up ahead the path took a sharp turn, and the tail's view would be blocked by trees and shrubbery for...he considered how far behind him the tail was...about seven seconds, which was plenty long enough. The tail must have noticed the same blind spot, because he picked up the pace. The assassin didn't respond by speeding up, which would have telegraphed his awareness he was being followed. He was close enough that it didn't matter, though his time was down to about five seconds.
He made the turn, whirled, stripped his white shirt off over his head and crumpled it in his hand as if it were a towel, then burst into the steady, loping pace of a runner as he rounded the turn going back in the direction from which he'd come.
The tail didn't even glance at him as he loped by; instead, the guy was hurrying to get around the turn and get him back in vision.
Good luck with that, he thought as he cut off the path and disappeared into the thick growth. He was just another shirtless runner, among hundreds, maybe thousands, who were sweating through their routines in the park that day. His dark gray pants, at first glance, would resemble sweatpants enough that no one would think twice about him. Only his shoes would be a giveaway, because who went jogging in Gucci loafers? Evidently he did, but it wasn't something he recommended.