The Killer's New Wife by Hamel, B. (different e readers .TXT) 📕

do,” he said, and we left the hospital without another word.

15

Ewan

Tara kicked her feet up on the dash of my car and leaned back in her seat. “How long are we doing this again?” she asked.

“Until we spot a Healy,” I said, and peered through a pair of binoculars toward the club at the end of the block. It was a short building, lower down than all the row homes around it, with a dark green metal door, windows covered over by white wood, and no signs out front. A big guy in a black jacket sat on a stool outside, arms crossed over his barrel chest, and glared around at the otherwise empty street.

“I don’t know why I agreed to do this with you,” Tara said, groaning.

“It’s been twenty minutes.” I put the binoculars down and smirked at her, leaning over to put my hand on her thigh. “Come on, darling. The party just started.”

She pushed my hand away. “Twenty long, torturous minutes,” she said. “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?”

“I’m sure,” I said and handed her the binoculars for the tenth time. She took them and leaned forward, staring down the street. We were parked a block down, on the opposite side, far enough that we wouldn’t be easily spotted, but there was a clear enough view of the door. It was early, around ten in the morning, and I didn’t expect any important Healy guys to show up anytime soon.

The place was called Heaven’s End and it was one of the filthiest strip clubs in the city. They barely pretended to be a gentleman’s club—the private dances inevitably had a happy ending, and the girls were all trafficked from some Third World country. Healy money must’ve continually flowed into police coffers, otherwise the place should’ve been shut down already.

“Just looks like a door and a tired old fat guy to me,” she grumbled and handed the binoculars back.

“What did you expect?” I asked. “Big neon signs that said, ‘come have sex with hookers here’ or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I just mean, there’s nothing at all. It’s totally barren.”

“That’s the point,” I said. “They want to be nondescript.”

“And yet you know about it.”

I sighed and rubbed my face. “Everyone in my business knows Heaven’s End, okay? Everyone knows the Healy family runs it, and everyone knows it’s a real piece of shit.”

“You ever been inside?” She glanced at me with a curious frown.

“No,” I said, glaring at her. “What do you think?”

“Just asking.” She stretched her legs with a groan. “I don’t like stakeouts.”

“They’re boring,” I said.

“Can we at least have music?”

“The battery will run out, so no, we’re stuck like this.”

“Battery run out? You think we’re going to be here for hours?”

I shrugged and tried not to smile as she let out a long groan.

Truth was, stakeouts were the worst. I didn’t blame her for feeling bored and antsy. This was dangerous work, and a lot could go wrong. My face wasn’t widely known throughout the city, but there were guys in the Healy family that would know me by sight. If one of those happened to walk by and notice the two of us, we’d be completely fucked. Not much I could do about that, though.

We spent the afternoon staring at a boring door. The equally boring doorman smoked seemingly endless cigars and paced around for a little while before slumping back down on his stool. That was probably his exercise for the day, considering the state of him. He was practically bursting out of his jeans and jacket, and I had to wonder why the Healys would put a guy like that on guard duty.

Probably just the first line of defense. And besides, not many people in the city were stupid enough to attack a joint like Heaven’s End.

I moved the car a few times as the day dragged on. If we stayed in one spot, it’d become a little too obvious. Tara complained, but not too much, and she went for a walk once or twice to stretch her legs and to get some food from the deli nearby.

“How many times have you done something like this?” she asked as the afternoon wore to a close and the sun dipped down, sending scattered pink rays along the tops of the buildings. She looked gorgeous in the long, soft lighting, and I was tempted to reach out and touch her shining auburn hair.

“More than I’d like to admit,” I said. “In my line of business, there’s a lot of waiting around.”

“When you go murder people,” she said flatly. “Don’t call it your line of business. You murder people.”

“I kill people,” I said, not ashamed of it. “I’m sure you don’t like that.”

“Of course not,” she said. “It’s a horrible thing.”

“True,” I agreed, looking out the windshield. We were closer to the door, close enough that we didn’t need the binoculars. I’d move us again in a little bit to a different spot down the street, but we were fine for now. “I never thought I’d have the stomach for it.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” she asked softly. “I mean, the morality? It’s wrong to kill people.”

“I don’t think about my immortal soul all that often,” I admitted. “I figure, at this point, why bother? I’m already too far down that path, darling.”

“I just mean, doesn’t it bother you at night? How many men have you killed?”

I closed my eyes for a second and could see all their faces, even the most recent guy, his body thrashing as I drowned him in the toilet. I’d never forget them, each one of them different and impactful, and I carried them with me wherever I went, even her father, that rotten bastard. Even he remained in my mind, because he was a person, even if he was a broken and terrible person. I took justice out on him, and I’d pay for that one day, but I wouldn’t take it out on myself.

“You don’t want