Red-Hot Vengeance Read Online Free PDF

dudes escorting her everywhere she goes… Yeah, Vaughn, that’s right.” Atwood stopped to cough. “Yes, don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”
    “Or will you?” Vaughn’s subordinate said behind him. “I don’t like it when people lie to me.” He seized the phone and brought it to his ear. “Hello, this is Pete,” he announced. “Who do I have the pleasure to be talking to?” He listened for a minute with a bad smile. “That’s all very well, sir, but you still haven’t told me your name. What does RC mean?”
    Instead of an answer, Pete heard a crashing sound. He looked at the list he still had in his hand. There were four RCs. He dismissed Renee Caldwell, and Ruth Clark, which left Randy Crowe and Reese Carter.
    “Help me out here,” he told Atwood. “Was that guy Randy Crowe or Reese Carter?” Atwood didn’t say anything but a light sparkled in his eyes at the mention of Carter’s name. “Thank you very much, mister Atwood,” Pete said ironically. He left Atwood bleeding on the ground, and started his way back to Vaughn’s place.
    As soon as she had his name, Vaughn took profit of her contacts to know more about Carter. But few people seemed to know him at all. He was something like a ghost; everyone knew he existed, but no one really knew him. However, she did find out that he used to go to a pub in Lower Manhattan. Carter apparently had a friend there by the name of Rafael López.
    **
    Vaughn was driven to Lower Manhattan in the middle of the afternoon. Finding Carter would soon get from impossible to successfully accomplished. One way or another, Vaughn would make López talk. She walked into the bar like she owned the place. She took wide steps, moving with her chin high and her eyes fixed on her objective. She approached the counter and started tapping on the smooth surface with her fingertips. When the bartender came to her, she was the first to speak.
    “Are you Rafael López?” she asked without any preliminary salute.
    “Depends on who’s asking,” López said. “Who are you? I don’t think I ever saw you here before,” he noticed, while twisting his watch and fidgeting with it until it was replaced on the right spot on his wrist, where his skin was a little lighter than the rest of his forearm.
    “You never saw me indeed,” Vaughn said coldly. “I need information about someone by the name of Reese Carter,” she added with a slight impatience in her tone.
    López played with his watch again. “Tell me your name,” he replied, “and I’ll send him a note saying that you’re looking for him.”
    “So you do know him,” Vaughn smiled. “Good. Tell me what I want to know and no one gets hurt.” She let the silence linger to show López that she wasn’t bluffing.
    López felt his chest tightening, as if it was being crushed in a vice. Vaughn’s voice was incredibly cold, but her tone was somewhat sweet and almost friendly, which made her even creepier. Time seemed to slow down and the bar felt oddly hot all of a sudden. López tried to swallow the anxious nod forming in his throat. “Why are you looking for Reese?” he finally managed to ask.
    “That’s none of your business,” she said. “Where can I find him?”
    “I…” López hesitated. “I don’t know where he lives. And he doesn’t come here anymore.” His mouth went dry with his lie. He hoped Vaughn wouldn’t see his left eyebrow twitching.
    “You’re lying,” she answered, making his hope crumble. “But, because I’m a nice person, I’ll give you another chance. Where can I find him?” she asked once more. López held her look but didn’t say anything. “Fine. You asked for it,” Vaughn threatened. “I will come back in three hours. If you don’t give me an address at that moment, this bar, along with all the people in it,” she emphasized, “will go down. Am I understood?” López nodded. “Good. And remember, mister López, this is your last chance,” she said on her way out.
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