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goes public? They think he’s a pro?” He shook his head. “Gotta be stopped. Some of us are gonna try.”
    “Finding the killer?”
    Jack nodded. “You want in?”
    “Me?”
    “I know you’ve got a legit job. We’d work around it. There’s a payoff, too. Expenses plus, covered by an interested party.”
    My hands slid out to either side of me, as if adjusting my seating—steadying myself as the world seemed to sway. But I kept my face impassive, gaze down as if considering his words.
    Beside me, Jack took out a cigarette. Calm and patient, unaware of what he’d just offered. The chance to hunt this killer. The excuse to tell myself it was just a job.
    I inhaled deeply. “Well, I’m flattered, but compared to you, I’m a rookie. There’s nothing I could add.”
    “You were a cop. You’re good. Careful.” He took out another fresh cigarette. “Could use you.”
    He glanced at me. When I said nothing, he lit the cigarette, one elbow resting on his thigh, and smoked while staring out into the forest. Several minutes passed. Then he cocked his head my way, waiting for an answer.
    “I don’t think so,” I said.
    “Fuck.” He breathed the word. “What’s the problem?”
    “You know this is just a part-time thing, something to cover the bills until the lodge starts making money. I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
    He shook his head, lips parting in another curse, this one a silent puff of smoke. He finished his cigarette, then glanced my way again. When I didn’t speak, he stood, stubbed out the butt and stuck it into his jacket pocket. From the same pocket he pulled a white envelope and handed it to me. I opened it. Inside was an airline ticket and a fake passport.
    “For tomorrow night,” Jack said. “Give you time to think.”
    I nodded.
    He zipped up his coat. “I’ll be at the airport. If you’re there, you’re there. If not…” He shrugged. “If not, I’ll see you later.”
     
    I knew I couldn’t take this job, and it had nothing to do with the possibility it offered. I simply couldn’t afford to get involved with other hitmen.
    It was bad enough that Jack knew so much. Only two people in the Tomassini organization even knew I was a woman: the head of the family and his nephew—my original contact. So how did Jack find out who I was? All he’d say was that my security precautions were fine, that my cover hadn’t been blown, and I shouldn’t worry about it. Damned reassuring, that.
    Two years ago, I’d gone out back to gather logs for the furnace and found Jack there. Why did he track me down? Sussing out the competition maybe, but I suspected it was the “nature” of this new colleague that set off his radar more than any competitive instinct. My name and some cursory research would have revealed my background. Maybe he thought I was a cop trying to infiltrate the ranks. Maybe he’d come out here to kill me. He probably had. As for why he’d changed his mind, I can only speculate that perhaps he’d decided I wasn’t a threat. I might even prove a valuable contact. Or maybe not so much valuable as entertaining. With Jack, one could never tell.
    As reluctant as I’d been to engage in any kind of professional relationship with Jack, I hadn’t been fool enough to reject his overtures. That could be taken as an insult, and he knew too much about me to risk that. So, despite severe misgivings, I had to accept that if he’d wanted to kill me, I’d be dead already.
    And whatever had brought him to my door in the first place, the relationship had its benefits. He’d suggested I start taking my fee in gemstones—harder to trace and easier to transport. He then exchanged those stones, taking his cut and putting an extra layer of protection between my cash flow and the Tomassinis. In addition, he offered invaluable training and advice. The cost of that? A few bottles of beer, maybe a slice or two of Emma’s pie, and keep him amused with stories of life at the lodge.