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that
Nathan was more than able to screw with their finances and probably
did.
    But why? What was his motive? And
what other secrets had Nathan White taken to his grave?
    ###
    Using his Steiner binoculars, the N ighthunter XP model, a brand that he always trusted, Leo
looked around the area where his truck was parked.
    Where, as a sniper, would he set up to take a shot?
He needed to figure it out because there was a real good chance
that whoever had wanted to hire him to kill Jackie Winn would send
a back-up assassin when they finally figured out their first choice
wasn’t about to deliver on the hit.
    There were several good
possibilities, including a couple of buildings across the street
with windows . The range was a bit on the long side, maybe
seven hundred yards, but it was doable. Watching a flag blowing, he
calculated the wind. Without a spotter to ID the target and call
corrections, it would be a bitch of a shot. With a decent spotter,
it still would be difficult, but Leo had shot hundreds of rounds at
much longer distances under worse conditions.
    Climbing out of his truck, he walked around the
parking lot. It seemed to service a number of businesses in the
same complex, so he wasn't worried about wandering around.
    He spotted a jet black Mercedes SLK and recognized
it from the photo he’d found in the manila envelope. It was Jackie
Winn’s car.
    It was parked off on an edge of the lot, sheltered
from car dings by taking up two spaces. It gleamed in the early
afternoon sun. The question that Leo wanted answered was how a
computer programmer and recently former student would even know
about such a car much less buy one? The college student who helped
Leo with the computer network at the coin store drove a Honda Civic
that could best be described as a pile of rust generally moving in
the same direction.
    Without using his binoculars, Leo looked around
trying to appear as casual as he could.
    Another possible sniper site presented itself—a
building under construction several blocks away. It most likely
offered the best view of the parking lot, but the range was on the
extreme side—probably close to eight hundred yards. It would also
be at an extreme downward angle—not anything difficult to deal with
if you knew what you were doing, but it would be a factor.
    Taking a long look at the building, he knew that
would be where he would set up.
    From the outside, he knew what to look for, but
there were always things that one could see only from the sniper's
hide that could result in a change of plans. One time he had shown
up to take a shot at a foreign minister who had the hobby of
torturing political dissidents and realized there was no way to get
the proper angle to the target. He could have chanced a shot at the
head, but it would have been moving. Instead, Leo moved to another
room and completed the job without a problem.  
    There were no other places that would be good sniper
hides, though there were several not very good possibilities. Leo
recalled the time when his sniper hide was in the back of a van.
That sucked. He had to take into account the bullet going through
the window of the van and then making it to the target after
traveling six hundred fifty yards. Leo hit the window square on and
let the gods of ballistics take it from there. They were smiling
down on him as the 190 grain Sierra boat tailed hollow point hit
the target between the second and third shirt buttons.
    He had been forced out of college due to the lack of
money to pay for tuition, boarding and books after the suspicious
death of his father and the scandal that surrounded it. Not that
the bastard hadn't deserved it. Despite hours of interrogations by
the police, Leo was determined to have no connection with the
fucker burning to death in his Cadillac.
    How and why someone had killed his
father had never been determined and it still bothered Leo just a
bit considering what he knew about the assassination business. His
father's death had