“That’s comforting.”
Doc Howard is short, pudgy, middle aged, with thick glasses and a kindly grandfather’s face. He’s looking at me with less fear than he’d shown earlier. He knows he’s valuable to me for reasons that would take too long to list.
But I’ll give you one: he does all our body-double surgeries. I’ve got people all over the country guarding other people who don’t even know they’re being guarded. They’re body-doubles for my hit squad, my family, my closest friends. I need Doc Howard, and we’ve always gotten along. I don’t resent him charging me for sharing his secret. Proves he trusts me more than he trusts Darwin.
On the other hand, who wouldn’t?
“I want names and addresses,” I say.
“Her name is Phyllis Willis.”
I look at him. “Don’t make me lose my patience.”
“Swear to God, that’s her name: Dr. Phyllis Willis.”
“And she works where?”
“Ropic Industries, Las Vegas.”
“What do they do?”
“I don’t know. Darwin set it up. I only know about the chip.”
“Is Dr. Willis in-house?”
“No. She’s a plastic surgeon.”
“In Vegas?”
“I think so. But wherever she is, I’m sure Lou Kelly’s guys can find her.”
“We didn’t have this conversation, Doc.”
“Of course not.”
I pause. “You should’ve told me.”
“I was trying to save a life. I’m sorry.”
I turn to leave. Doc Howard says, “Phyllis thinks your name is Connor Payne.”
“What?”
“That’s the name—”
I hold up my hand. “I remember. That’s good. I can use it to my advantage.”
He nods, relieved.
2.
Connor Payne is the name Darwin gave me when I came out of the coma. He went to a great deal of trouble to legally “kill” Creed and establish Connor Payne as a living, breathing person with a full history, including phony medical and dental records. When I decided to keep my original name, Darwin was furious at my lack of appreciation. Nevertheless, he kept the identity active on the chance I might need it someday.
It’s late afternoon.
I’m in Vegas, in the multi-million dollar high-rise condo Callie Carpenter shares with her life partner, Eva LeSage. Callie’s my top operative, and at the risk of sounding like a Hollywood script, she’s not only the deadliest woman I’ve ever met, but the most beautiful, as well. A natural blond, Callie boasts the entire package: flawless skin, piercing eyes, high cheekbones, dazzling smile, smokin’ hot body…and the most amazing mouth I’ve ever seen. Her lips…are stunning. Not enhanced, not thin, not pouty—Christ, I feel like a slow learner in a high school writing class trying to come up with words that do them justice. I mean, can I buy a friggin’ adjective that hasn’t been overused?
I’ll start over.
You know how some women look like moms, and some like teachers? And some look frigid, while others look bedtime? Well, Callie’s mouth looks like heaven. It’s an astonishing mouth, with lips so enticing they force your attention away from what is already a perfect woman.
Callie would never have to sell her body.
Men would pay to watch her apply lipstick.
Another great thing about Callie? She’s a good sport, always up for a kill.
When I tell her about the chip she says, “We really need to do something about Darwin.”
“It’ll eventually come to that,” I say.
We sit in silence awhile, thinking about killing Darwin. Then she says, “What about Phyllis?”
“I’m going to pay her a visit tonight.”
“At her place?”
I nod.
