Page 38 of Promised to the Demon King (The Demon Brides #1)
Reaper waited in the parking lot for Nell to arrive. He was unclear about what was going on. Everything seemed much messier than it had originally appeared, and that was saying something because the woman, Carol Carter, screamed messy.
Reaper looked at his watch. Nell should have been arriving any minute. He looked at the passenger seat, and his eyes fell onto the document folder containing the information that Carol had given him. He wondered how Nell would react to discovering that a hit was being put out on him by a client he had no actual contact with. Nell was about to discover that this middle-aged plastic Barbie considered him a loose end.
He'd change the job and unravel Barbie's picture-perfect life if this was him.
Reaper thought about the bank transfer he looked into. The money came from her second and current husband's bank account. It didn't come from Barbies. Reaper wondered what the connection to Nell was. The money was wired to Nell's account. Did that mean that he had done a job for her husband, and now she wanted Nell out of the picture? There were too many unanswered questions, which only Nell had the information regarding. He couldn't wait for them to put the puzzle together.
Tap-Tap
Reaper was so deep in his thoughts that he failed to see that Nell had arrived in the parking lot and was now standing on the passenger side of his car.
Reaper clicked the unlock button, and as soon as Nell was inside, he put the car into drive and took off. They drove in silence until they reached a more secluded spot. What Reaper was about to reveal would surely set Nell off into a spin if he understood the severity of the information. That being, he's been marked for death.
"How was Peru?" Nell finally broke the silence once they parked.
"It's Warmer than here, I can assure you of that," Reaper smirked, and the old friends chuckled. Like most Canadians, they complained about the Canadian chill, but neither man moved away. Canada was their home, chills and all.
"Let's get straight to it, shall we?" Reaper opened his door and stepped out, but not before he handed Nell the information folder he brought. "You may want to take a look inside, buddy. You've got some trouble brewing."
He leaned calmly on his car's hood while waiting for Nell to review and process.
"That fucking bitch!" he heard Nell shout from inside the car. Shortly afterwards, he heard the passenger door open and then slam shut. Nell grumbled as he stomped over to where Reaper sat, waiting patiently.
The view from the peak was beautiful. Reaper took it all in. Alberta had so many beautiful peaks and natural attractions to behold. A man tortured by the acts of his past, both military and hired mercenary, appreciated the silent beauty whenever he had the chance.
"You want to tell me how you ended up as my latest job detail, Nell? Seems Barbie wants you dead." Reaper spoke, but his eyes remained on the horizon before them.
Nell sighed and kicked a loose stone with his foot.
"This woman is a real piece of work." He started, shaking his head. "A year ago, Carol Carter contacted me to do a job. It seemed easy enough, so I took it."
"What was the job?" Reaper asked.
"What every jaded ex-wife wants-- to kill her ex-husband. His name was Jonathon Thompson. When I say this man was a saint, I mean, he was a fucking saint of a human being. I almost turned it down, but I figured everyone has their secrets; he might be better hidden than most. I took the job, and no matter what I did, I swear that man had a fucking angel on his shoulder or a horseshoe up his ass because it took four attempts before I was finally successful."
"Really?" Reaper was surprised. Nell was good at his job-- excellent.
"Yeah. It was crazy. With the number of close calls, I was starting to doubt myself. His survival each time never made sense; the only thing I could fathom was that it had to be divine intervention. No one is that lucky. I started wondering if he actually was a true and real fucking saint. Why else would he be so fucking hard to kill. Here's the kicker, though," Reaper looked at Nell and waited for the punchline.
"She then reached out a couple weeks later, after dodging me for payment, wanting me to take another job. This time, she wanted me to kill her daughter. She wanted me to make it look like an accident, just like her father. I told her I was still needing the remainder of my payment. She tried to fight me on it, but I refused."
"Then what happened?" Reaper asked.
There was a special place in hell for people like this woman. Reaper had seen the darker side of people throughout his life, but for one to harm their own child, he couldn't understand it.
"Wouldn't you know it, I was wired the hundred thousand that day. It was from a separate account from the initial retainer; the final payment came directly from her current husband's account. I thought that was curious, but it was not my issue. Once I got the money, I dropped her. That girl's not even eighteen yet. I don't kill kids. Sure, she's almost considered an adult, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I did look into it, though. The daughter left all of her father's money. My opinion is that Carol Carter wanted him killed because she wanted the wealth; once she realized it was left to the girl, she wanted to kill her to claim the money. Why else would you hire a hit on your estranged ex-husband, and then once your daughter is named the sole inheritor, you want her dead now, too. No way. That's not my thing. I straight up ghosted her." Nell shrugged and kicked another stone on the ground.
"I would've done the same thing, to be honest. No wonder she wants you dead now. Curiously, you were paid by her current husband for killing her ex-husband. Was this deal with them both or just her?" Reaper asked and watched Nell shake his head.
"It was always just her. She paid my retainer with her own account, as well. It was only because I demanded the rest that it came from her current husband. I suspect she didn't have the money in her bank account, so she tried to put it off. I noticed I was being tracked, so I went underground for a bit. Someone was trying to track the routing number used for the bank transfer. Pretty sure it was the husband wondering where the fuck his money went to. I've been watching from afar, and it seems her husband is in some legal trouble since I did the job for her. I wouldn't be surprised if she pins him to take the fall for her shady business dealings."
"That would explain why she wants you silenced, then. She's a regular black widow, isn't she." Reaper scoffed and shook his head.
"She is straight-up poison in the well, man. I would suggest that you stay as far from her as possible. If I'm on her growing hit list, then you better believe that you'll be next." Nell sighed and took in the view, leaning on the hood beside his friend.
Nell presented a valid thought. Would he be next after Nell was silenced? He also wondered it when he found out Nell was his mark.
"I have an idea, and it's a crazy one, but if it works out the way I think it would, we can watch her drown in her own mess from a safe distance," Reaper smirked when he saw he had Nell's attention.
"What's the plan?"
"Let's reach out to her husband, Timothy Carter. He may be interested in the information we collectively have for him. Let's watch them tear each other down. The rich are only shiny when things are running smoothly for them. Let the chaos of their messes unravel everything for us."
Nell chuckled. "The wealthy always reminded me of piranhas. Calm until there is a drop of blood in the water."
"Exactly. It's time to drop some of Barbie's into the water."
Ding
Timothy was in his lawyer's office when his phone chimed, signalling that he had received an email. When he opened it, he didn't expect an unknown sender to inform him that his wife was setting him up.
'Attention, Timothy Carter.
It was come to our attention that you may be taking the fall for your wife's indiscretions. Please find the attached documents of her pursuits for wealth through the murder of her first husband, paid out of her second husband's (yours) bank account.
I hope this helps you with your legal matters.
Sincerely,
A friend
Timothy opened the attachments, and his eyes widened. This was his smoking gun.
"That fucking bitch! I am going to fucking bury her!" Timothy stood from the chair in front of the attorney's desk. He was pacing as he reviewed everything. The embezzlement from his family company was an unknown wire transfer that his bank couldn't track or retract. Everything was becoming apparent. Carol had stolen money from him to pay for the murder of Jonathon and planned to have him take the fall while stealing his money through falsified affair evidence.
"Filch!" Timothy called out to his lawyer. His lawyer watched him with concern. "I need to forward this all to you. I want you to validate this information. If this is all correct, I think I found our smoking gun. That bitch isn't getting a dime from me!"
The attorney was startled by his client's anger but said nothing.
When the forwarded email arrived and Filch opened it, Timothy's behaviour suddenly made sense. "Timothy, if this is all accurate--"
"Then we'll bury the bitch!" Timothy growled; there was darkness in his eyes when he looked at his attorney. It sent a chill down Filch's body.
"I'll have it verified immediately. Give me a couple of days to get it all sorted out. I can't stress the importance of keeping this between us. We don't want Carol to get this information before us. As far as she knows, we don't know anything. Play the part, Timothy. I'll contact your father to see if this will give you your seat back within the company. This will exonerate you completely." Filch jotted down notes and reminders, and Timothy stared off. He allowed himself to finally feel a sense of hope. His life had been in chaos for so long now that it almost seemed surreal to think he would be at the top of the world again. Carol was pushing to challenge the prenup, and suddenly, he was excited about the court date. She was in for a surprise.