Victor stared at the now-empty parking spot vacated by Cooper’s car. He’d been tempted to bend her over the desk and fuck her senseless. Show that belligerent bitch who was in charge. Only he had more pressing matters at hand.
She wasn’t in the same league as him. Like he’d be stupid enough to admit to a bribe. The way she’d questioned him had set off warning signals. Comical and pitiful. The strip search had been fun, mostly because it humiliated the whore and put her in her place.
She’d dared to threaten him with a revised alternate survey. What bullshit. His blood heated. Time to eliminate her. No loose ends.
He hit the intercom. “Is Eric here yet?”
“Yes. I’ll send him in,” Gina said.
He placed the cigar on the ashtray and sat. Eric sidled in, hands in his faded jeans pockets. His gaze dashed around the room. “I did good last night, right? Got that expensive piece for you that the cop told me about?”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Victor picked up the cigar. The blade Eric had stolen was already shipped to the new buyer on the black market, who had coughed up a huge chunk of money for the object. Once Victor held the finalized building permit, he could dig on his property and get back in the business for real. First, he had to clean up shop. “I have another job for you.”
Eric cocked his head and sat. “What?”
“I need you to arrange a fatal accident.”
“What?” Eric’s jaw dropped. “You mean like I gotta kill someone?”
“Yes. I don’t care how, but it needs to look like an accident.”
Eric’s face paled. He shook his head. “No, no, man. I never killed no one before.”
Pussy. Not surprising. “If you set it up right, you won’t even be there when it happens.”
Eric squinted. “Wait. No shooting or knifing someone?”
“That sure as shit wouldn’t appear to be an accident.” Stupid fuck. Victor blew out a puff of smoke.
“I might be able to do that.” Eric rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, yeah, I got it now. A mollytok cocktail right through the bedroom window. Bam.”
Mollytok. He must mean Molotov. Victor’s teeth hurt from grinding. He slammed a fist on the table.
Eric jumped and blinked.
Victor huffed out a breath and leaned forward. “How would a flaming bottle thrown through a window look like a fucking accident?”
Eric blinked again and clasped his hands together. “Right. I gotta maybe make a toaster catch fire, or a faulty wire or something. That’s a better plan?”
Halle-fucking-luja. He’d seen the light. “Yes. I don’t need details, just results.”
“Who is the person? I mean the one I gotta…take care of.”
“Maddie Cooper.”
“Whoa.” Eric jumped to his feet and paced. “She’s a bitch, but I don’t know about killing her.”
“Well, I do, because now I’ve got another problem.” Victor picked up his letter opener and tapped it against his palm.
“What?”
“Now that you know, you’re a liability.” He pointed the sharp end at Eric. “A risk. A loose end.”
Eric stopped pacing and held up his hands. “Oh no. I wouldn’t tell anyone what you said. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I agree. You won’t be able to say a thing.” That was the goddamned truth. Just give him an excuse to off the asshole.
The last bit of color left Eric’s face. Victor opened a drawer and drew out a wad of bills. He shoved them across the desk. “For last night, and part of tonight’s work.”
Eric snatched the money, eyes wide at the stack of hundred-dollar-bills.
Always so eager when it came to cash. This would be a true test. Victor drew out two more stacks and slapped them on the desk. “Twice this tomorrow when the job’s done.”
“Holy shit.” Eric’s eyes bulged.
Yeah. Fucking right. Victor flipped the edges of the bills like a stack of cards.
“I’ll do it.” Eric bobbed his head. “If I’m not there, I don’t gotta see any blood, right?”
“Whatever, but it has to be done tonight. Got it?”
“Tonight?” Eric gulped. “Doesn’t give me much time.”
“Then why are you still here?” Victor tossed the money packs at Eric, who caught them.
Licking his lips, Eric rubbed the top bills. “Hey, you really hate her, right?”
“What’s your point?”
Eric’s eyes squinted to narrow slits. “If I find a way to, you know, do it that hurts, too. Would that be worth more?”
Mind-boggling. Victor kicked his chair back and pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Right, boss.” Eric turned tail, stuffed the money in his pockets, and hurried out.
Victor stubbed his cigar out.
Mollytok? Fuckin’ A.