CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

 

JEAN WAS REALLY happy to see Mary Jo waiting for her in the airport. Of course, Mary Jo as a blonde with glasses and a large nose didn’t look like Mary Jo, but Jean would have known her anywhere.

Jean had on a brown wig, brown contacts, and some fake eyebrows that made them look thick and bushy over her thin glasses.

Mary Jo hugged her and Jean was startled how wonderful it felt. Even better than she had been thinking it would feel. The two of them just fit together in so many ways.

“I’ve missed you,” Mary Jo said as they turned and headed for the parking area.

“I missed you as well,” Jean said. “More than I want to admit.”

Mary Jo smiled. “I know that feeling.”

An hour later they were seated at the counter in the massive kitchen of the house Mary Jo had rented. The place was decorated in white and black and metal handles and had about as much warmth as a steel mill. Jean had hated it the moment Mary Jo had let her in the door from the garage.

Mary Jo had agreed. “This place feels more like a fancy prison cell than a home.”

“Imagine the couples who think this is their style,” Jean said, looking around. “I don’t want to think about what their relationship would really be like?”

“Sterile and by the numbers,” Mary Jo had said, shuddering.

Mary Jo had gotten them both glasses of iced tea.

“So are we about set?” Mary Jo asked. “I’ve got ready everything we need here. And our fake Jack Kelsall has arrived and is waiting for word while spending vast amounts of money drinking and eating as he was told to do, all on the expense account.”

“My parts of the plan are in place,” Jean said, smiling.

At that very moment Mary Jo’s phone beeped. Mary Jo glanced at it, then smiled.

“Susan has turned into the main subdivision street and will be here in one minute.”

“Tracking?” Jean asked.

“Tracking,” Mary Jo said. “I’ll get her a glass of iced tea, you want to go into the garage and open a door for her?”

“Gladly,” Jean said, heading out into what felt more like an empty sports facility than a garage. In New York entire families could live comfortably in smaller spaces.

As the automatic door opened onto the heat of the day and the white, filtered sunlight, a blue compact appeared around a corner. Within thirty seconds, the blue car was in the garage and the garage door was closing.

Susan climbed out, her black hair now turned silver and her nose upturned and dark-rimmed glasses. She also had grown a pair of boobs somewhere along the way. She looked fifteen years older than she had in New York.

“Mary Jo’s pouring you a glass of iced tea,” Jean said as Susan got her small bag from the back of the car. “Any success?”

Susan smiled, showing some false caps on her teeth that yellowed them some. “Oh, wonderful success. Wait until you see it all.”

Jean felt that slight surge of excitement she always felt when about ready to start a job. Preparation was almost finished.

At some point very soon they would make the go or no-go decision.

And that would signal the start of the first time she had worked with two other assassins. Until meeting Mary Jo, she would have never thought working with just one other would be possible.

Jean just hoped this worked as planned.

But of course, she always felt that way before starting a job.

Always.