These mood swings of his were becoming more frequent. Is it also because of Darius? He wants to talk? Now? No, he wants sex. Her shirt was open and she quickly buttoned it. “Come on, Matthew, not now. I thought we were in a hurry. Go away and let me shower in peace so we can get out of here.”
His smile never slipped, but she knew if she looked close enough, she’d see the pulse pounding in his neck.
“I didn’t come in to talk—well, not right away.”
Was he for real? He knew she was angry with him, knew she’d hated all the deaths at Bayway, so what was on that genius brain of his? Did he believe pushing her for sex was the way to get her back under control? She realized what she wanted more than anything was to kick him into oblivion. She held herself steady, even smiled at him. “No, Matthew. Go away.”
“Come on, Vanessa, we’ll have some quick fun, we deserve it, to celebrate. You’re mad at me right now, but that will change.” He wasn’t blind, he saw the contempt on her face, but he chose to ignore it. He added, his voice cajoling, “Hey, after, you and I can talk. You’re right, it’s time I told you all my plans.”
Think, think. He’d tell her all his plans? She forced herself to soften her voice. “This isn’t a good time, Matthew, you know that. We need to get out of here.”
He ignored her, unbuttoning his shirt, never looking away from her. Then his fingers were on his belt. “We can take a shower together, save some time. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
No, he can’t get in the shower, he might try to use the soap, might see that something is different.
He pulled off his belt. His fingers went to the button of his jeans, paused. “Vanessa, I’m sorry, I should have told you about Darius, what we planned together. I should have told you about everything. I do trust you, and I want you by my side when I finish this.”
He was playing her, she knew it. She watched him unzip his jeans, watched him step to her, didn’t move when he kissed her neck.
She forced herself not to kick upward, to hold perfectly still. “Finish what, Matthew? What is there to finish?”
“You didn’t think I was going to spend the rest of my life bombing small-time refineries and electrical grids, did you? Tonight was just the beginning.” He pushed her up against the wall, kissed her hard, one hand holding her head still. He slid a leg between hers.
She said into his mouth, “Come on, Matthew, what are you planning? Tell me, so I can find the best way to help you.”
He was kissing her face now, light feathering kisses. “Everything’s in motion; Darius and I have planned out every move. You are helping me, Vanessa. All the way, baby. You and me, all the way.” He kissed her hard again, whispering into her mouth, “Now it’s time for us.”
Why? Because Darius isn’t hanging around watching you? She forced herself to kiss him back, let her hand slip inside his jeans as she whispered into his mouth, “Tell me now, Matthew. I want to know. Tell me.”
He raised his head, his smile dazed, rubbed his fingers over her mouth, said between kisses, “You want to know what’s next? We’re going right to the top, Vanessa. No, wait, I’ll fill you in on all of it later. You won’t believe who we’re going to kill—”
There was a loud ding from the phone wedged into the soap. The text had gone through.
13
QUEEN TAKES C4
Hodges’s house
Bayonne, New Jersey
Mike didn’t want to believe what she saw.
Two agents were down at the kitchen table, a poker game spread between them, and now the cards were sprayed with blood. The third agent lay on his side in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
She didn’t want to go in the master bedroom, she didn’t, but she had no choice. Richard “Dicker” Hodges lay in the middle of the bed, a beautiful plaid flannel blanket covering him, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead, another to the chest. His eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling.
Everything screamed surprise attack. Whoever had gotten in was quick, clean, leaving four dead, each taken down with only two shots. They hadn’t seen any brass on the floor.
Nicholas said, his voice cold as ice, “The work of a professional.”
Mike turned to him, saw the pulse slamming madly in his throat, felt the fury radiating off him. Since she felt the same mad brew, she didn’t bother to say anything.
She studied Mr. Hodges’s peaceful face. “Whoever did this knew what he was doing. As you said, this was a professional hit.”
“Have you ever seen anything similar? All four men shot once in the forehead, once in the heart?”
She looked up at the odd note in his voice.