Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

"I could have done that," I said. "I might have even used more words."

"Don't need to. Clear enough."

If Evelyn did get the message, she didn't return it. I could say that meant she was on the road and didn't want to talk and drive, but that would hardly stop her. She suspected we were calling to tell her to turn around, so she wasn't answering. We were stuck with her.

Evelyn's taste in hotels was a big step up from our usual, but neither of us complained. Jack bought me candy in the gift shop, and I got bottles of pop before we headed up.

I blame the sugar, but by the time Evelyn arrived, I was a little giddy. Jack was in a good mood, too, relaxed and joking and even talking as we sprawled on the sofa in our suite. Or I sprawled. Jack sat at one end with my feet over his lap. When Evelyn rapped on the door, Jack was in the middle of a story. He got up and went over, still talking.

"So I refuse the job. Don't care if the client's been cleared. Too fucking squirrelly for me. Two days later? Hear this news story."

Jack checked the peephole. He undid the chain and tugged the door partly open before turning and heading back to me.

"Client took out a fucking want ad."

"In the paper?" I said.

"Yep."

A petite white-haired woman in an elegant blouse and slacks caught the door before it slammed shut on her fingers.

"Excuse me?" Evelyn said, pushing her way inside.

"Posted it under fucking 'contract positions,'" Jack said to me.

"What the hell kind of welcome is that?" she said.

I put my finger to my lips. "Shhh. He's telling me a story, and we've worked up to polysyllables and near-complete sentences."

He snatched the bag of sour candies from me and poured a handful before tossing it back. It hit my chest and a geyser of sugar sprayed.

"Hey, it's empty!" I said.

He lifted my feet and plunked down on the couch again. "Be nice to me. I'll get you more. Now where was I?"

"The fucking newspaper ad. Under fucking contract positions. Which, I might add, would seem the right place to hire a fucking contract killer."

"Fuck, yeah. Especially if you're so fucking stupid you actually advertise it as 'assassin wanted.' Guy figured cops wouldn't notice. Or would think it was a joke. He was wrong. Least he had the brains to skip town."

I laughed. Then I saw Evelyn still standing there, and I started to sit up. "Sorry. I'm hogging all the--"

Jack yanked my legs, pulling me down again. "Our sofa. We can hog it. There's a chair."

"And there was candy," I said. "But apparently this"--I shook the sugar from my shirt--"is all that's left."

"I don't think you need any more. Either of you." She peered down at the empty bag. "Are you sure that's sugar on those things?"

"Yes, sadly, it only takes sugar to make me this giddy."

"Apparently, you're not the only one." She shot a look at Jack.

"Giddy?" Jack snorted.

"For you, that's giddy. Either that or someone spiked your Coke with Quaaludes. If you looked any more relaxed, I'd be checking for a pulse."

He flipped her the finger.

"Oh, that's classy, Jacko. You really are in a good mood, aren't you?"