We had to get back to the car. Then we had to make damned sure that it hadn't been tampered with--particularly that it wasn't going to blow up when Jack turned the ignition. He knew how to check and showed me.
Then, having ascertained that the BMW was indeed safe to drive, we had to get rid of it. Or at least leave it at the rental company lot and pick up our less conspicuous car.
The rental place was closed. That was fine. Jack had rented the BMW under a different alias and left our previous car in a public parking lot two blocks away.
After that, we still couldn't return to our hotel until we were sure we hadn't been followed from there to the restaurant.
So who did we think called in the hired gun? The answer seemed obvious: the guy who knew I was in town. Sebastian Koss. Yes, we hadn't seen him make a call or anything after our meeting, but that didn't mean he hadn't contacted someone, maybe a text under the table as we'd talked, getting my would-be assassin over to the pub to follow me.
Earlier, I'd said I thought it entirely possible for Koss to have a drink with someone he'd hired a hit on. He was, after all, a killer, however justified his cause. And yet to hire a hitman after talking to me? That took a level of cold that I couldn't fathom. As we drove, I asked Jack's opinion.
"Talk to a mark? Yeah. Done it."
"So have I," I said. "A few words at most. I've never had a full-length conversation, though. Have you done that?"
"Conversation?" A snort. "Fuck, no. Worse than killing. More painful."
I smiled. "Okay, for you, maybe. But it feels like . . . I don't know. Maybe that's my ego. I don't like to think someone could talk to me for an hour and still want to kill me."
"I wouldn't."
I laughed softly. "Thank you."
"Mean it, though. Even the first time. When Evelyn sent me. I was worried you'd be a risk. Even if you were? Don't think I could have done it. For someone else, though? Talked to them, then had to kill them? Could manage. If I had to. Rather not. Probably easier if you're not the one pulling the trigger, though."
"True. So we're certain Koss hired him."
"Never certain. But . . ."
"It almost definitely is because, well, who else could it be?"
"Yeah." He glanced over. "Sorry. Know you liked him. His reputation anyway. Respected him."
I nodded. "I did. But that's not going to stop me from putting the bastard down before he can do the same to me."
"Good."
We were standing outside Koss's house. It was a typical upper-middle-class home in a typical upper-middle-class suburban neighborhood. I'd been hoping for a more ostentatious show of wealth, as if it might prove Sebastian Koss was indeed evil. I know it doesn't work that way, but it would have helped.
The place was dark. We had no way of telling whether Koss was home, but we presumed he was. There's no sense hiring a killer if you aren't going to make sure you have an alibi for the time of death. So when Jack said, "I'm going in," I turned and stared at him.
"There's a family in there," I said.
A slight narrowing of the eyes, relaying an offended "no shit."
"There's no need to go in," I said. "We're ninety-five percent sure he's sleeping beside his wife, establishing his alibi."
"And I'm gonna check. Also getting a better look. Security, layout, whatever. In case."
I didn't ask "in case of what." I knew. In case we decided to kill Sebastian Koss.
"What else?" I said.
A wordless shrug told me it was a valid question.
"You're going to leave a message, aren't you?"
A moment's pause as he glanced away. Then, "Yeah."