Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(64)

“But it didn’t, and now we’re faced with a very delicate situation we have to solve.”

“Not by using Jaden.”

Hutchinson shook his head. “That would cause ripples. Ripples are discouraged in this matter. Which is your good fortune. Our mutual employer appreciates your cooperation. He has at great expense employed one of the world’s greatest legal minds—that’s me—to fight on your behalf. If he senses that you do not appreciate the extent of his concern, he will cut off all contact, all assistance. Do you understand what that means?”

Powers turned and stared out the window. “It means I’ll die.”

“I’m accustomed to a fair bit of melodrama from my clients, but in your case, your concern is warranted.” Hutchinson reached into his jacket and produced two foil packets.

Powers tensed. “What are those?”

“A token of appreciation.” Hutchinson grabbed two plastic cups from a countertop and set them on the small serving table next to the bed. He tore open the packets and emptied their gooey contents into the cups. He then picked up a pitcher, filled both cups with water, then stirred each with a straw.

Powers stared at the cups. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes. It’s your medicine. Something that no hospital can provide you. You need it, don’t you? Less efficient than the type you inject, but I’ve been told it’s just as effective. The officer on duty searched me before I came in and I never would have been allowed to bring a syringe and needle in here. Drink the one on the right first, then the left.”

Powers picked up the right cup and examined it for a long moment. “No offense, but … how do I know this isn’t poison?”

Hutchinson smiled. “Poison? Is that why you think I came here?”

“I think you came here to make sure I keep my mouth shut. Okay, you won’t use Jaden. But two packets of fast-acting poison would do the job, wouldn’t it?”

“If that’s what they really wanted, then all they had to do was absolutely nothing. Correct?” His voice lowered. “Why are you being difficult? It’s a little incentive to keep you doing what we want you to do. You know you need it.”

Powers looked at the cup for a moment longer, then downed it.

Hutchinson tapped the other cup. “Now this one. I’m not to leave until I’ve seen you drink both.”

Powers drank the other one in one long gulp. He wiped his lips. “Sour.”

Hutchinson folded the foil packets and placed them back into his pocket. “Now remember our discussion. Cooperation is everything. Not one single word.”

“I won’t forget.” His lips twisted bitterly. “How could I? I’m just wondering something.” Powers leaned back in his bed. “Would you have given me those packets if I hadn’t agreed to keep quiet?”

Hutchinson brushed his hands together and straightened his jacket. “See you soon, Mr. Powers.

He left the hospital room and closed the door behind him.

*

“POWERS IS SCARED SHITLESS and he’s not talking,” Hutchinson said when Jaden answered the phone. “You won’t be needed … yet.”

Jaden muttered a curse. “And when you make that call, it might be too late. It should be done now.”

“The job was fumbled. Michaels got away, and now we have a situation. I’m not going to have to answer for it. It’s in your court.”

“I set it up, but you sent inefficient bumblers to grab her. I should have done it myself. I won’t make that mistake again,” he said. “He should have let me take care of her a long time ago.”

“I don’t advise you to tell him that.” He hung up.

Jaden took a deep breath and tried to smother his rage. Hutchinson wasn’t important. He was only a high-priced mouthpiece who was afraid to get his hands dirty. But he didn’t mind relaying orders to him to do it. But this time Jaden would have welcomed that order. He’d only remained safe during his career by leaving no evidence of his passing. Now the Michaels woman was starting to shine a spotlight on Powers, and Powers might be a weak link that might lead to him.

Not to be tolerated.

So find a way to stop Kendra Michaels once and for all.


Croyden, England

Middlesex Lane

Rye walked down the main drag of the depressed industrial town sixty-five kilometers north of London. He had no reason to go there since he was a boy, and it looked almost nothing like how he remembered it. More than half of the shops had been shuttered, and those that remained were mostly secondhand stores, pawnshops, and the occasional Laundromat. At the end of the street he saw the reason for the financial despair—the closed clothing factory, which he’d just learned had supplied many of England’s military uniforms for two world wars. Now, however, the gray brick buildings towered above the wrought-iron gates, silently taunting the town that had once so depended on it.

He walked to the factory entrance and looked through the gate’s iron bars. It looked as if no one had been there in years.

Except …

High on the stone flanking, there was a relatively new opening mechanism with an articulated arm attached to the gate. A tiny red light beamed down from the apparatus, indicating that it was on and receiving power.

Nothing else about the grounds indicated that anyone had been there in years. No sound emanated from the factory and no exhaust was emitted from the twin smokestacks and numerous vents.