Mafia Trilogy 03 - The Scythe (30 page)

BOOK: Mafia Trilogy 03 - The Scythe
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Chapter 5

Nancy Demeers walked a block up Dixie until she saw a coffee shop. Dressed as she was in her blue hip-hugging dress, people would stare, but she didn’t care. She had done what was asked of her. She would collect her money and leave Toronto. Maybe it was time to visit her sister in Halifax.

 

She pulled her cell phone out and called the number she was supposed to memorize.

 

It was answered on the third ring.

 

“Hello?” Nancy whispered into the phone.

 

“Speak.”

 

The man’s voice was deep, gravelly.

 

“I did it. I told the man what you told me to say. I made sure he thought that his sister was taken out of the club. He knows exactly what you wanted him to know.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Can someone come with my money and pick me up?”

 

“Sure. Where?”

 

“I’m at Dixie Road and The Queensway in Etobicoke. I’ll be in a coffee shop on the Northwest corner.”

 

“Ten minutes.”

 

The man’s voice gave nothing away. No emotion, no appreciation, nothing. All it gave her was chills, even though the summer sun beat down on her exposed back.

 

“You’ll have my money?”

 

“Yes. We need his license plate number. Did you get that?”

 

“Of course.” She recited it by heart. “There, you have everything you asked for. Did I do good?”

 

She wanted a pat on the back for a job well done. Some form of gratitude. But nothing was forthcoming.

 

“Ten minutes. Be ready.”

 

“Oh, wait. There’s two more things. He asked about the vodka.”

 

“Vodka?”

 

“He wanted to take me to the police station to report what I know. I refused and made him pull over to let me out. I think he’s on his way to the cops.” She paused. “I just thought you should know.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The line went dead. Nancy dropped the phone back in her purse and crossed at the lights. She entered the coffee shop and felt the eyes of all six customers on her.

 

Take it all in, bastards. You’re the last batch of people who look at this body without buying me dinner first.

 

She was done. No more dancing, no more drugs, no more drinking. Most of all, no more hooking on the side to support her habit. She had enough money to settle down for a couple of years. She would rent a car and head to Halifax or maybe take the bus so she could read on the way. It had been so long since she’d read a good book.

 

In the car, she had been worried when Aaron had asked her how she knew his car. And he wanted to take her to the police station. She couldn’t believe it. Her deal would have been off if she walked through the door to a police station. They had been explicit in their arrangement. No police. Only information. Talk to whoever comes around asking for Joanne. Make sure they’re not cops. Find out why they’re asking and who they are. The man with the money said he would decide how important the information was. Once she talked to anyone, there would be a large payout. Enough that she could retire is what the man had said.

 

She sat in a corner booth without ordering anything. The girl behind the counter kept staring at her, but she brushed her away, pointing at the other seat as if she was waiting for someone. Eventually everyone in the coffee shop averted their eyes, trying to be polite.

 

She wanted a smoke but everything in Toronto was smoke free now. She could barely smoke in her own apartment, it was so strict.

 

Outside, the sun beat down relentlessly, heating the already humid air into the mid-thirties. She thought about the heat that Aaron had brought down on himself by showing up at the strip club. She didn’t care. She wouldn’t. It wasn’t her deal. It had nothing to do with her. All she had to do was tell him a story and then let her new employer know that she did, along with the plate number. As far as she was concerned, her job was done and she hadn’t hurt anybody.

 

The man she met at the club three nights before sounded like he had a Russian accent. The man on the phone was curt and to the point, but she could hear his Russian accent too.

 

So why did they want me to tell the brother that the guy at the club was British?

 

She had no idea what was going on and she really didn’t want to know. Before Joanne and Jan left work that night, they all had been given a story if anyone came asking questions. She was told the next night that Joanne and Jan had quit and moved away after having been paid off for their help. If her brother hadn’t been close to her and didn’t know where she’d moved, it had nothing to do with her.

 

A black Mercedes pulled into the parking lot. No one got out. She wondered if it was her ride.

 

The driver honked the horn.

 

Nancy got up and walked over to the car. The tinted window on the passenger side lowered an inch. She leaned down.

 

“Nancy?” the driver asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Get in. We have your money.”

 

Nancy opened the door and slipped into the comfortable leather seat, the air conditioning hitting her like a fridge door.

 

“Very nice,” she said.

 

The driver pulled out and got on Dixie heading south toward the highway.

 

“Where to?” he asked.

 

“My place.”

 

He looked at her and then looked back at the road.

 

“Oh, right, sorry … I live two blocks from the House of Lancaster. Easier that way. No need of a car. I walk to work.”

 

This little bit of information didn’t seem to impress the driver. He sat rigid, watching the road, not open for a conversation at all.

 

There was movement in the backseat. Nancy turned to see who was with them, but her vision went dark as something hit her in the face.

 

She slumped down and fell out of the seat, her butt hitting the floorboards as she screamed and flailed at her eyes. A fire of pain flared inside her head as her hands grabbed the object on her face. It felt like two knives were sticking out of her eye sockets.

 

Her mind raced and her hand flailed as the pain rose higher to match her screaming. Convulsions hit her body, knocking her hands off the knife handles.

 

She curled up on the floorboards of the Mercedes, all ninety-five pounds of her, spilling blood and brain fluid onto the carpet, wondering what happened.

 
 

Read the rest of
The Specter
.

We hope you enjoyed this excerpt. You can find this story and many more wherever Jonas Saul books are sold.

Good reviews are important to a novel’s success. If you enjoyed The Scythe, please leave a review wherever you purchased the book.

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About Jonas Saul

Jonas Saul is the author of the Sarah Roberts Series and The Mafia Trilogy. Visit his
Amazon page
for a complete listing of his books.

Visit his website,
www.jonassaul.com
for upcoming release dates, and to sign up for the newsletter. Jonas lives in Washington, USA with his wife, author
Brenda Grate
.

Contact Jonas Saul

Website:
http://www.jonassaul.com

Twitter:
@jonassaul

Email:
[email protected]

Or send mail to Jonas Saul ℅ Imagine Press:

900 Front Street, Suite C #137

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Jonas Saul Titles

The Sarah Roberts Series

1. Dark Visions

2. The Warning

3. The Crypt

4. The Hostage (*Featuring Drake Bellamy from The Threat)

5. The Victim (*Featuring Aaron Stevens from The Specter)
 

6. The Enigma

7. The Vigilante (To be released, Summer 2013) (*Featuring Aaron Stevens from The Specter)

The Mafia Trilogy
(Starring Darwin and Rosina Kostas)

1. The Kill

2. The Blade

3. The Scythe

Standalone Novels

The Threat (Starring Drake Bellamy)

The Specter (Starring Aaron Stevens)

The Prisoner (To be released, Spring 2013)

 

Short Stories

Visitations - A Book of Short Stories

The Burning

The Fetish

Trapped

The Elements

Hatred

PUBLISHED BY:

Imagine Press

ISBN: 978-1-927404-22-5

The Scythe

Copyright © 2013 by Jonas Saul

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Beginning

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

The Specter - An Excerpt

About the Author

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