The Hitman Who Loved Me Read online

  He lifted his hand in refusal. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “But—”

  “I insist you keep it. I’m sure it costs quite a lot to charter planes around here. I happen to know a little about that, and since I’m leaving prematurely, it’s only fair that you keep the money.”

  Valerie nodded and made no further comment. He sensed she was uncomfortable over the discussion of money.

  The main door opened and two burly-looking men stepped inside with their baggage and fishing gear. Sam remembered them from last night as they hooted and hollered with the rest of them. They looked pale-faced and red-eyed this morning, almost as bad as the host.

  Valerie’s instant grin was in hard play this morning as she pushed her chair back and stood to greet the men. “Mr. Daniels will be joining you on the flight out this morning, guys.”

  Valerie turned to Sam. “The Bailey brothers have been coming here for over ten years,” she said proudly. “Same time every year, and we’re happy to have them.” Their host turned away to set out coffee cups and the fixings. “Coffee is ready. You three gentlemen come get a cup now before the plane gets here.”

  As Sam and the two brothers sipped on the strong brew, he wondered when the housekeeper started her duties for the day. He imagined she must be embarrassed by their encounter last night. He, on the other hand, was blown away by the instant attraction. But that thought didn’t last long as the engine of the plane rumbled over the lodge. Sam stood and wandered to a nearby picture window, casually sipping the strong brew, and watched its descent. Any time he had the pleasure to watch a plane in action he always thought of Gabe. That man could fly anything anywhere. He wondered briefly if the boys would be interested in this sort of business. Now that Terry was out of the illegal loop, enjoying life with Mary and the kids, and Gabe living an adventurous life in the mountains with Mima, Sam wondered if they’d be interested in partnering up on a legitimate business. Something they could all operate together. Or even for all of them to use as a private vacation spot. There must be other lodges around for a potential sale. Maybe he should set up a meeting with the boys and hear their thoughts on the idea. Sam couldn’t imagine their partnership being over just because the empire had ended. They were still his brothers. His fucked-up little family meant everything to him.

  The float plane, a twin Otter, swooped in a great circle over the trees, and made a smooth landing in the bay. As it taxied toward the dock, one of the dock hands waited with rope in hand for the plane to reach him.

  Sam turned around and smiled at Valerie. “It was a pleasure while it lasted. Maybe I’ll see you next season.”

  That winning smile seemed to fade as she nodded her head. Sam wondered if running a lodge was as wonderful as it was cracked up to be. But he thought no more of it as he had more important things to worry about. If Terry needed him home right now, then some bad shit was about to go down—if it hadn’t already.

  He grabbed his suitcase and headed down to the dock. As the pilot maneuvered the great beast into the air and swept around to fly over the lodge, Sam wondered what was so important to Terry that Sam had to cut his vacation short before it had a chance to start.

  * * * *

  “I don’t understand. I thought everything was okay.” Jamie fought the urge to bawl like a child as Valerie’s bad news hit home. Now she understood why the boss lady had been drinking so much lately.

  “I’ve been losing money three years in a row. I can’t afford to keep this place going after the remaining guests leave.”

  Jamie ripped a few tissues out of the box on Valerie’s desk and dried her tears. “What exactly are you saying? Are you firing me?”

  Valerie lowered her chin and stared down at her desk for a long while. Jamie thought that she too was trying to put on a brave face. “No, I’d never fire you, sweetheart.” When she looked back up, Jamie recognized the honesty in her eyes. “I just can’t afford to give you that loan, and as of today I have to lay you off. Right now I need a guide and a dockhand more than anything. I’ll have to clean the cabins and do all the cooking myself.” Her sharp stare cut Jamie right to the core. “I’m so sorry, honey. I thought I could pull through till the end of the season, but I was horribly wrong. I should’ve shut ‘er down last year.”

  Jamie’s chin quivered. A knot the size of a golf ball lodged in her throat. This can’t be happening. Not now. “Does Monty know about this, too?” When Valerie nodded, she almost broke down in hysterical sobbing. So they both were up shit creek without a canoe. “What am I supposed to do? I’m so far in debt I’ll be ruined.”

  “I’m sorry, Jamie, I really am. I’ve tried everything. I’ve even drained all of my savings. I just can’t do this any more. I have enough funds to pay you and Monty up until today. Any money owing from the remaining guests will cover my final operating costs. I’ll be forced to sell as quickly as I can or go bankrupt and abandon this place.”

  “What about investors?” Jamie jumped up from her seat and paced Valerie’s office. She had ideas. They could try something—anything to keep the lodge in operation. She couldn’t imagine her favorite place in the world being abandoned.

  “I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried everything.” Valerie stood from the desk and approached Jamie, her eyes glistening with tears. “You’ve been a wonderful asset to this lodge, my dear. If I manage to sell, everyone here will be recommended to come back. I promise.”

  Jamie had no more words to say. Her mind was running a mile a minute wondering what she would do when she returned home. She wouldn’t have enough hours from the season to collect unemployment insurance by going home a month early. How was she supposed to survive? She needed that loan more than anything just to be able to keep her tiny apartment in the city, and having been fostered, she had no living relatives to seek shelter. No bank would give her a loan from a seasonal job either, and the time it would take to find a job in the city and collect a paycheck, it would be too late.

  She suspected Valerie was struggling, but this was too much to take. “Well, I guess there isn’t much else to say. I’m really sorry this is happening to you, but I don’t know what to do now. Maybe I could speak to that Jack Daniels guy and beg him for a job in whatever retail business he’s in.” It was just a joke, but at this point she had nothing else to lose. Didn’t Valerie say he was a man of business?

  Valerie shook her head. “I’m afraid he left yesterday.”

  Jamie spun around and blinked hard. “What? But he just got here.”

  “Apparently he had a satellite phone and got a call to return to work. He flew out yesterday morning. I was actually sad to see him go. He looked like a man with money.”

  No wonder she hadn’t seen him since that night. Jamie’s heart sank. Oh God. He probably escaped after she threw herself at him like a hard-up hooker. Now she felt truly, utterly hopeless and pathetic, downright disgusted by her behavior that night. He must have been eager to get away. The call from work was probably a lie. Nobody travels to a lodge in the middle of nowhere with a fucking satellite phone.

  She had nobody to ask for help, and with Monty’s layoff as well, he would be tight for money, too. Jamie had already taxed out her propositions for housekeeping in the city, and she didn’t have time to find another job when she owed so much money already.

  She couldn’t say for sure what had pulled her into the world of selling dope. Maybe it seemed like the cool thing to do at the time. Her memories were blurry at best, and that was her own fault. The smart kids in high school, who were going somewhere with their lives, were in a whole other world than Jamie ever could be in. Perhaps following the rough crowd back then seemed easier, considering her family life had been precarious at best. But selling a few joints, or a few bags of blow was one thing—doing your own shit was another.

  That’s how she got in a bad way. She became dependent on cocaine, and in the end, right before she smartened up, she’d borrowed a large amount, only
to get ripped off by a thug. Now she was caught in a dangerous game, owing money to somebody who could seriously hurt her.

  With more tears in her eyes and an emptiness in her heart, Jamie opened her arms and hugged Valerie hard. They held each other for a while as the weight of what was to come settled over them. This change in both of their lives wouldn’t be easy, especially for Valerie. She put her heart and soul into this business for nearly twenty years. “So I guess this is it. When am I supposed to leave?”

  Valerie pulled back and wiped the tears slipping down her cheeks. “It’s best if the two of you leave today. Why keep the wounds open longer than necessary, right?”

  Jamie disagreed. She’d love nothing more than to enjoy one final day on this beautiful land before she was forced to leave. But she understood Valerie’s reasoning. It was time to go home and form a plan.

  After a two-hour flight back to the city, Jamie and Monty shared a taxi downtown.

  “Told you she was losing money,” Monty said, his voice gruff with resentment.

  Jamie stared out the window at the buildings whizzing by as rain pelted the car. Of course the weather suited her miserable mood. “Yeah, well, I don’t think either of us expected to be tossed out this fast. I’m really fucked now.”

  Monty squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll be all right, twit.”

  She turned to him, took in the hard line of his freshly shaved jaw. If she wasn’t so upset, she might actually compliment him for finally ditching the porn moustache. “You don’t understand. I have nothing, Monty. The money I made this summer is going straight to someone else, and I can’t even try to keep it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  The taxi hydroplaned over a puddle before pulling to a heart-pounding stop in front of Monty’s apartment building. Jamie stared down at her hands, unsure how to tell him without telling him everything. “You know I haven’t always been a good girl.”

  “Yeah, I know. Jammin’ Jamie, right?”

  She shook her head, hating that nickname from her drug-induced days. “Well, let’s just say that caught up to me before I left for Sharp Ridge.” She looked up at him, on the verge of tears. “I’m in a lot of trouble and there’s no way out of it.”

  Monty’s expression hardened. “For what? What the hell did you do now?”

  The cab driver cleared his throat as Jamie and Monty battled eyeballs at each other. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Listen to me. You can tell me anything, and you know I’m not a saint either.” Monty shook his head and dug into his pocket for money. Jamie stared at his profile as he handled the cash, recalling a recent drunken conversation when Monty admitted to robbing a house during a bad moment in his life. Monty and two other men had worn masks and busted into a mansion, only to find the family hadn’t yet left for their vacation. Monty was ordered to lock the kids in the room, unaware until it was too late that one of his partners had accidentally shot the father. Monty escaped through a window on the third floor and never looked back. He moved to a new city and started over. He’d lived in his own prison since then, despite trying to put humor into every conversation. Jamie knew of his silent torture, and even though the man had survived the shot, Monty still regretted what happened, because it could’ve ended up much worse.

  Maybe what she did wasn’t so bad.

  He handed a few bills to the driver. “Make sure she gets home with that.” After the cabbie took the cash and rushed to retrieve Monty’s hockey bag from the trunk without getting too soaked, her only friend gave her a quick hug. “I’ll call you later. I expect you to tell me everything in detail you silly twit.” Despite his cruel words, she knew she deserved it. Jamie slouched against the seat, feeling sorry herself as Monty ran up the steps to the building and the cab sped off down the street.

  Monty always said the bitter truth—no sugarcoating allowed. Even if she did hate his choice of words at times, she loved his honesty. There weren’t many honest folks left in this cruel world.

  A few blocks away she exited the cab and headed up the steps to her third-floor studio apartment. If getting laid off and owing a bunch of money to her old dealer wasn’t bad enough, seeing an eviction notice on her door had to be the worst news ever. She ripped the note off the door as blinding tears filled her eyes.

  You have fourteen days to vacate the premises if all past due rent is not paid in full by end of August. The letter was dated last week, and all rent was due in three days.

  The letter dropped to the floor as her knees buckled. Tears slid down her cheeks as her ass connected to the floor. She leaned against the hallway wall and sat there for a long while, unable to form any kind of plan to save herself. It seemed as though her life was slipping through her fingers. In fourteen days she’d be out on the street.

  What if she hadn’t have come home today? Would the landlord have packed her stuff and thrown it into the street?

  Coming up with all past due rent, which totaled over two-thousand dollars, within three days was impossible. Her bank account was overdrawn; she had two grand in cash that was already promised to someone else who would break her legs if she didn’t pay up. Her past wasn’t a pretty one, but she was an adult and would pay her dues.

  She opened her apartment door, dropped her stuff on the floor; kicked her shoes off and into the open hallway closet. Next came the bra. At least she breathed a little easier without the confines of the underwire. On a day like this, that small bit of freedom was a welcome feeling.

  After she turned on the radio to her favorite classic rock station, she began to unpack. As she removed her summer gear from her suitcase and duffel bag, Jamie thought she couldn’t sink any lower. Once her stuff was put away she went to the kitchen and grabbed her bottle of whiskey—something she always saved for the end of the season. So much for a celebratory drink today. This was a sorrow drinking day. Drink until nothing hurt anymore.

  She drank straight out of the bottle. As she took a long swig, she thought of all the things going wrong in her life. A breakup one year ago. Getting fired from her winter job after being accused of stealing when she didn’t do it, only to be laid-off from the summer job, was a massive slap in the face. She hadn’t had sex in seven months and thirteen days to be precise, and she had three cigarettes left. If she kept the two grand, she’d be broken or worse. Being clean for eight months had its rewards, but now she owed money from a past she wished didn’t exist. A past that did nothing but harm her body.

  Jamie Fields, get your shit together.

  She took the bottle in hand and wandered over to the row of windows overlooking the street. People walked along the sidewalk below her prison of life. They had no idea what she went through. Maybe they were on their way to a fancy dinner when all she found in the freezer was an old forgotten box of fish sticks and a jar of mayo and ketchup in the fridge. Maybe those people were on their way to a family gathering when all she had was her bottle of whiskey. At least she had that.

  “Congrats, Jamie. Another wasted day and wasted night for you.” She tipped the bottle to her lips and took another long pull.

  Her gaze halted on her answering machine as the whiskey burnt a path down her throat. Six messages. Messages she didn’t want to hear. Probably more bill collectors or maybe a death threat.

  She couldn’t help it. She burst out in hysterical laughter, followed by a wretched sob. “Why me?!” she screamed.

  Her neighbor pounded on the wall. “Keep it down!”

  Ugh. She plopped down onto the couch and stared blankly at her surroundings.

  The tiny apartment of four-hundred square feet had a kitchenette with a three-burner stove and mini fridge beneath. No table. No chairs. A bed on one side, a dresser with television on the other, and a loveseat at the foot of the bed. She might as well be living in a boarding house, but at least she had her own bathroom.

  All this splendor for eight-hundred dollars per month, she thought with a bitter taste in
her mouth. And now she didn’t even have cable or Internet. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nice things. Card games and fishing on the lake. Giving Monty a hard time. Shore lunches and fishing. Good things that made her happy. Now she couldn’t even afford a pack of cigarettes.

  Not so long ago, she would’ve found a way to buy a bag and forget her troubles. To take life through a straw and snort her cares away. But she wasn’t that person any more. She had to be tough, take it day by day, and never look back. Never ever look back.

  With all this horror swimming in her head, she finished the bottle of whiskey and fell into a drunken sleep on the loveseat.

  * * * *

  The next morning Jamie was startled awake by the phone ringing. She pushed up to a sitting position on the couch and looked around in a confused haze. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, her head felt like a watermelon, and her mouth tasted like an ashtray. It took a moment to realize she was back at home and not at Sharp Ridge Lodge where it was safe. Being back home didn’t feel real. It seemed like a demented dream, and maybe, if she blinked harder, she would wake up at Sharp Ridge in her small comfy cabin, with the potbellied stove in the middle of the floor—the only place that felt like home.

  She pushed up from the couch and ran to the phone, surprised it still worked since she owed the phone company money as well. Still groggy from sleep, and the whiskey, she answered in a ragged tone, “Hello?”

  “Get up, twit. I have a job that might help your little situation.”

  Jamie glared at the phone as if Monty could see it. How he could sound so lively this early in the morning should be a crime. “Does it involve cleaning toilets?” She leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed her forehead, hoping that would clear away the watermelon seeds clogging her brain. “Hello?”

  “I made a few phone calls last night. If you care to hear the details, then I suggest you get your sweet ass dressed and meet me around the corner at our favorite coffee shop. Unless you’d like to go to the bar instead?”