Page 52 of Chief

“I rarely repeat the same mistakes twice, son.” He slides a piece of paper across the desk to me. He’s already tracked down the flat address…and her name.

Fuck.

He’s earned that point, and I’ll graciously concede it to him.

I feel a small measure of relief that it’s not Eddie, though.

I sigh as I fold the paper in my hand and crease it, slip it into my shirt pocket to deal with later.

“I assume from the look on your face you know who this bitch is?” He sounds all too satisfied with himself.

I’m not used to being at a loss for words. No doubt in my mind now that it’s her. There is no other way Benchley could have connected her to me, unless the e-mail is from her.

I guess my ass is going to Germany.

I slowly nod.

I guarandamntee you, there will be at least two unhappy people in Germany upon my arrival there. Me, for starters.

And most assuredlyher.

* * * *

When you leave the past firmly in the past, the last thing you expect is for it to rise up, smack you in the goddamned balls, and risk it fucking up not only the present that you’ve so carefully constructed, but the comfortable future you anticipate, as well.

I always knew my father-in-law was a bastard, too, I just didn’t know how much we truly had in common. Although it took over forty years for our paths to mirror each other.

Before I leave to return to the Tampa office, Benchley’s already made several phone calls with a throwaway cell phone, using Signal to further mask his trail, and he’s put a basic plan in place to give me what I’ve asked for to make this go away.

Funded the…mission.

Because as far as I’m concerned, thisisa covert ops mission.

One in which I plan on terminating my target with extreme prejudice.

He sits back. “I’m guessing you have one or two contacts of your own there still?”

I slowly nod. “I do.”

“They can help you?”

“They can.” I’m going to have to make a similar call to Eddie, but I need my own burner phone with Signal enabled, and don’t have one with me. Didn’t think I’d need one. While I would normally call Eddie with my personal phone, I would prefer no trace to me on this one, if I can avoid it. Although I can come up with a public-friendly cover story without much effort, if forced to do so.

“I want this handled, Carter,” Benchley says with more grim determination than I’ve ever seen him possess. “I don’t give a shithowit’s handled, as long as the loose end is tied up in a way it canneverunknot itself.” He stares at me. “Am I making myself clear? I’m cashing in that karma chip for you, like it or not.”

He’s finally speaking the unspoken.

I nod.

“That money is from a Caymanian account,” he continues. “Untraceable. If you need more, you’ll have to let me know.”

“I won’t need more.” The money he’s given me is plenty. I know Eddie will be happy with the boon. It’s not nearly enough to make up to him for the past and broken promises, but he won’t turn it down, I’m sure.

Benchley nods.

“We done?” I ask.

“You need a plane ticket.”