Camino Winds (Camino Island, #2) by John Grisham Read Online (FREE)
“We don’t guarantee a win in this business,” Elaine said.
“I understand. It’s a long shot.”
“Three hundred thousand,” Lindsey said. “From soup to nuts. All up front. No hourly billing, no monthly statements, expenses included.”
Bruce nodded and stared at her pretty eyes without blinking. Polly had predicted half a million, but then she was in California. Bruce was hoping for two hundred or so and refused to flinch at three hundred. He would pay half, as would the estate. He could afford it, and Ms. Shelby sitting across from him with a smirk damned well knew it. What she didn’t know was where his ransom was buried.
He shrugged as if it grew on trees and said, “Deal. Now what do we get for the money?”
“Hopefully, the killer,” Lindsey said with a smile.
Elaine shook Bruce’s hand goodbye and left them to their business. Bruce followed Lindsey down the hall to a larger room with screens on all four walls and a long table filled with laptops and other devices. They sat across the table from each other and she opened a file of some sort. “Let’s start with the woman,” she said as she pushed a button on something and Ingrid’s computer-generated face appeared on two of the wide screens.
Lindsey said, “Of course, we don’t know this woman, nor anyone who might be her, but we’ll begin the search.”
“The search for what?”
“A contract killer. We know of several, but it’s a fairly nebulous group. They don’t convene annually for parties and they don’t have a registry.”
“You know the names of contract killers?”
“Of course. The FBI has monitored them for years. Back in the old days most were Mafia boys who killed each other in turf battles, but today there are a few who are known.”
“How? How do you know about them?”
“Mainly through informants, snitches, rats. Almost all contract killings are done by dumb criminals who need a few bucks to knock off a spouse or hubby’s secret girlfriend. Family stuff, usually. Bad business deals are not uncommon. Most of the hit men are caught and convicted by forensics.”
“Where might one find a good hit man?”
“Well, you can actually start online, believe it or not, but those guys cannot be trusted.”
“Imagine that. A dishonest hit man.”
“Right. If you wanted to knock off, say, a business partner, you’d probably start with a local private investigator, someone you might know and trust. He’ll know someone who’s done hard time and lives around the fringes. He might also know an ex-cop or maybe a former Army Ranger, someone accomplished with weapons. Guns are used nine times out of ten. About sixty percent of the time word leaks out, the police get a tip, and everybody gets arrested before there’s a killing.”
“But we’re not dealing with a dumb criminal here,” Bruce said, enjoying the discussion.
“No, we are not. There are a few contract killers who are referred to in the trade as ‘masters.’ They rarely get caught, and they are well paid.”