Made to Be Broken (Nadia Stafford 2)

"That wasn't a request."

He inched to the middle of the bed.

"Good enough. Now, I've been sent here to kill you, Mr. Payne."

His mouth worked like a fish's, eyes bulging as he blew nothing but air bubbles.

"I-I have money," he said finally. "Whatever they're paying you, I can pay more."

"I'm sure you can. Selling babies is a very lucrative business, isn't it? Especially if you don't need to pay off the mother."

"N-no, you don't understand. It wasn't my idea."

He babbled on, sounding remarkably like Ron Fenniger in the moments before his death. It wasn't his idea, so while he'd taken part in the scheme, he couldn't be held accountable.

"Like I said, I can pay. Whatever they're offering, I'll double it. Triple - "

"Do you think we'd be having this conversation if I planned to kill you?"

"What?"

"This isn't a James Bond movie, Mr. Payne. In real life, if someone wants you dead, they aren't going to chat you up first, explain their motivations, whine about their lousy childhood forcing them to a life of crime. Kind of a waste of time, don't you think? Explaining yourself to a guy you expect to be dead in five minutes?"

He huffed a few breaths, cheeks puffing as he calmed himself. "Okay, okay, so it's about money, then."

"I'm not interested in money."

He blinked, trying to assimilate that concept.

"I want the people you're working for. Like you said, this was their idea. Tell me everything you know and, if it's enough to put them away, I'll walk out and give you twenty-four hours to decide whether you want to pack and run with the money or turn state's evidence and hand it over."

He nodded, working it through as his head bobbed.

"Remember, though, that I've built a decent case. That means I

already know most of it. I just need proof. So if you lie, I'll finish the job, collect my pay, and get that proof another way."

"Okay, okay."

He licked his lips and seemed to consider asking for a glass of water, then thought better of it, and started his story. As it unfolded, I saw that, once again, I'd been wrong. Very wrong.

"Thank you," I said as he finished.

Payne let out long shuddering breaths of relief.

I stood, lowering the gun. "You're going to give me fifteen minutes to download those files and leave. Then you can get up and decide what you want to do."

"O-okay."

"Fifteen minutes. Start watching the clock."

He rolled over to do that. I took three steps toward the door, then shot him in the back of the head.

Chapter Forty-six

I left Payne where he fell, facedown on the bed. I downloaded the files from his laptop onto the drive I'd bought, then stole from the darkened house into the yard. Staying along the fence line, I cut through three yards and came out on the street behind an apartment building. The rental car was in the lot.

Once on the road, I called the client: Palmer MacIver, as I now knew him. He answered on the second ring.