Trust Your Eyes

FIFTY-THREE

“This is the sort of thing I’d have thought you might have checked first,” Nicole said, sitting in the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard, the ice pick poised between her two index fingers.

Lewis said nothing.

“I might have found out whether our guy was actually in Burlington, Vermont, before flying the hell up here. But that’s just me.”

“It was the right house,” Lewis said through gritted teeth. The van, driving through the night, was doing close to eighty, and felt as though it might float off the highway. They were heading west. He figured it would take them about two hours, maybe a little more, to get to their new destination.

An elderly neighbor had spotted them standing on the porch of Ray Kilbride’s house when no one answered. She said her name was Gwen, and that she was picking up Ray’s mail and any flyers left at the door while he was away, in Promise Falls. His dad had just died, she said, and he was staying there while he sorted things out. He was looking after his brother, too.

“Can I help you with something?” she’d asked.

“Wait a minute,” Nicole’d said. “You say someone named Ray lives here?”

“That’s right.”

Nicole had turned to Lewis and said, “I told you this was the wrong house. We’re on the wrong side of town.”

Lewis had shrugged. “I’m an idiot,” he’d conceded.

“So you’re not looking for Ray?” the neighbor had asked.

They’d said no, got back in the van, and pointed it in the direction of Promise Falls.

Along the way, Nicole needled Lewis about his fuckup. She wanted to get under his skin. Push him. See how angry he’d get.

It would be a clue to his intentions.

She said, “If it was me, I wouldn’t have gone up and knocked on the front door. You find a way inside the house, get the jump on them there.”

Lewis tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll try it your way.”

Being nice.

That was when she knew he was going to kill her when this was over. He was being nice so she’d be off her guard.

It would be easy to take him out first. She could put the pick through his neck while he drove, then grab the wheel, get her foot on the brake. In a big van like this, it wasn’t hard to shift over to the driver’s side.

Nicole knew she could do it.

But she had to let this play out. She needed answers to what was going on as much as Lewis and his people did. Had to find out whether this Kilbride was as big a risk to her as he was to those who’d hired her in the first place. And then she’d have to decide how much of a risk her associates-not just Lewis-posed to her. Whether she’d have to do something about them. Because she was done with this. She was through. She’d had enough.

Something had happened to her in that basement in Chicago. When she’d killed that Whirl360 guy’s wife. Nicole didn’t want to take any more orders from any of these men.

She’d ride this one out to its conclusion, keeping a close eye on Lewis the whole time. She’d taken at least one major precaution in the event he got the jump on her.

Lewis said, “Maybe, if we get a second, we can run in somewhere, get some coffee. My treat.”

Oh yeah, he was definitely going to kill her.