CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

 

MARY JO WATCHED from her apartment window as Stanton Cobble the Third, a tall, thin man with two bodyguards, pulled up in front of his condo in his limo. Her apartment seemed almost bare and had no personal touches. She really hadn’t mentally lived here at all, just used the place as an address and temporary base.

Over the last three months, Mary Jo had watched the man’s every move, often from this very window.

And Jean had tracked every move of the man’s family as well.

It had turned out that Jean had only taken a few weeks to sell her house and move to the city. And after that, every night, after their target and his family settled in for the night, they met for dinner and wonderful evenings together in Jean’s apartment.

So the time apart they had both feared had been short and now Mary Jo was stunned at how well they worked together, adjusting the plan slightly as they learned more and more about their target.

Good old Stanton had shorted them both three million. By the time this was over, he was going to wish he had paid the six million thirty times over. And Mary Jo loved that. Over the last three months of watching the target, she had come to hate him more and more.

Unlike her last target, the sheriff, she could never care for good old Stanton. The guy was just an animal, and actually, it made her mad that he had hired her and Jean to kill the sheriff. Not because he had been her husband, but because her husband had been just a nice man.

But Stanton’s money had talked and soon Stanton was going to wish his money had talked a lot louder.

Mary Jo watched as Stanton helped a young woman out of the black stretch limo and past the doorman for the building condo, laughing as they went.

The woman was barely old enough to be legal in Manhattan and had long blonde hair, just as all of Stanton’s flings had. If nothing else, the man was predictable in his affairs with younger women.

It would not have surprised Mary Jo or Jean in the slightest if Stanton’s wife knew about this secret condo as well and just looked the other way because of the kids and the money and their beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park.

Mary Jo had seen that a great deal over the years as well.

And it disgusted both her and Jean. How could a woman let herself be used like that?

Mary Jo waited until it was clear that good old Stanton was in his condo, then nodded.

The plan was set. Today was the day.

Finally, they were moving.

She quickly checked the cell phone she had for calls from Jean.

Nothing.

The plan was in motion.

Mary Jo closed the window in her apartment across from Stanton’s private condo and pulled down the blinds.

She had given notice on this apartment and when she walked out the door shortly she would be done with it.

In four or five months or so, she and Jean hoped to buy Stanton’s condo across the street in a fire sale. They would, of course, buy it under a brand new name, not even the fake one she had used in the apartment renting.

She and Jean could afford to live anywhere, but they both thought it might be fun to take over Stanton’s love nest after he was long gone.

Besides, this was a great neighborhood and had some fantastic restaurants within walking distance.

It was a perfect neighborhood for her and Jean to live.

And Stanton’s condo had one major feature they both loved and had stood beside a number of times in their scouting and planning trips. The condo had a large hot tub overlooking a private roof garden.

Besides that, at two bedrooms, Stanton’s condo had a wonderful penthouse view and a kitchen that would make a magazine about top kitchens. They both had decided that living there for a time sure wouldn’t be an issue or a hardship on either of them.

Besides, Mary Jo liked the city and she had come to discover that Jean did as well.

“More than anywhere else in the world,” Jean had said.

And both of them had lived almost everywhere in the world. But both of them had always found themselves back in New York City.

They talked often about their times in the city, trying to figure out if they had come close to crossing paths at times. They had even taken walks past old apartments, learning each other’s history with the city.

Mary Jo was convinced that she would have noticed Jean if their paths had crossed.

Jean had said the same thing about Mary Jo.

Now they were a couple that turned heads.

Jean had said it was because of Mary Jo’s beauty. But Mary Jo knew better. It was all because of Jean, the most beautiful woman Mary Jo had ever seen or been with.

And after today, they would have even more time together, at least until their next job.