But she sells women ...so despite her protests and explanation, is it really that unthinkable that she wouldn’t take this next step?
Unless I’m wrong and she’s just looking for a trendy restaurant that’s hip and hot and located outside of town? Yeah, I’m not that dumb either.
My gut says something bad is happening here, and if I’m wrong, then I can go home and wait for Kane and pretend I didn’t go off on some crazy goose chase.
And then the dot makes one last turn toward the river and stops.
Where the hell are you, Magnolia? And is Kane out here too?
47
Kane
From my perch on a rusty shipping container in the back corner of the shipyard, I’ve got my sight on the bus from the old folks’ home as it sits idling, and a black Suburban pulls up behind it and parks.
A boat motor drones in the distance, and through my scope, I get a closer look. It looks like a dozen people in orange life jackets, andSandy’s Swamp Toursis painted along the side of the boat in big yellow letters.
Mount wants me to take out the buyer and the seller. How I’m going to know who is who, I have no fucking idea.
Another reason I don’t take a contract without research.
Someone important is in the SUV. If it’s Giles, I’ll finally get the chance I’ve been waiting for to take him out.
The boat pulls up next to the seawall, and a man climbs out of the bus to help them dock.
Before anyone can get off the boat, a BMW SUV hauls ass through the gate and slams on its brakes just before it T-bones the black Suburban, and the doors of both vehicles fly open.
A woman jumps out of the BMW and starts waving her hands and yelling.
What in the actual fuck?
I blink twice, and it takes me a full second to recognize her in the fading sunlight.
Magnolia Maison.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Mount sent me to eliminate the madam.
48
Temperance
Ifloor the Audi and blow past the little red dot that signifies Magnolia’s location.
Shit.
I turn into another driveway and back out, moving slowly as I approach again.
It’s a warehouse that looks like it’s about to fall down any second. Shipping containers are piled high in a parking lot, some with the doors wide open.
If I were a human trafficker, this is probably where I would be.
I pass it again before I pull off to the side of the road and cut the engine.
This is quite clearly the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’m not getting out of this car.
I’m just not.