The Hitman's Last Job(29)

“I’ve always wanted to sit in one of these!”
“Ah you just want to sit on the bubbles,” he laughed and tickled her in the ribs.


She giggled and squirmed under his touch and he picked her up and carried her away.

“You gotta see the bedroom,” he declared.


And he carried her through the suite before playfully tumbling her onto the bed.

“Oh my God. This bed is huuuuuuuuge!”
“Yeah… King sizes are the best,”
“We have loads of room to play,” Anna lay on her back and flirtatiously opened her legs while she stared at him seductively.


Carl couldn’t resist and jumped on top of her. Kissing her passionately he held her tight as if he could never get enough. She wrapped her legs around him and they pressed up against each other as if they never wanted to let go. Eventually Carl broke away and glanced to the phone.

“What’s up?” Anna asked anxiously.
“Fancy ordering room service?”


CHAPTER 16

The two men were in Jorge’s Buick as the night descended on them.

“You ever been to St Louis?” asked Jorge.
“Never, but I hear it’s a shithole,” Jerry answered grumpily.


All he wanted was to grab a beer and get some sleep but here he was carpooling with a psychopath on the hunt for a runaway hit man. If anybody came out alive from this scenario it would be a miracle.

Jorge was looking straight ahead into the night with his hands loosely on the wheel. He was also getting anxious with the lack of sleep and he bent over and rifled through the glovebox for some cigarettes.

“Fuck man, I’m all out,”


But Jerry held up one of his and Jorge took it from his chubby fingers with his thin lips. He expertly lit the end while driving.

“So you have no luck with Carl’s old man?” Jerry wondered.
“That * just cried for three days. Didn’t tell me shit,” Jorge was furious and spat out the words.
“Bummer,” Jerry yawned and scrubbed at his face with his meaty hands. “So are we nearly there yet?”
“What are you? A kid?” Jorge smiled wryly.
“You shut the hell up,”


And silence resumed to the car. After a long while Jerry grew irritated and he switched on the radio. But being in the middle of nowhere all they could pick up was a late night local radio station. The dulcet tones of two faceless killjoys spoke solemnly about local crime rates.

“… and cars are being burned out too James. I mean one was found just recently,” a woman’s voice was borderline delirious.
“That’s right Suzanne. Looks like the work of upstate vandals that have spurned their decadent vehicles on our land and set them on fire,”


Jorge and Jerry turned to each other with sheer amusement in their eyes.

“What the f*ck is this shit?” Jorge pointed his cigarette at the radio.


Jerry turned it back off preferring the silence.

“Upstate vandals,” and he shook his head.
“Hey,” Jorge pointed to a sign that was hung back in the bushes.


It read Gibson Rd and Jerry finally perked up.

“Finally!”
“Yup. So four miles from here,” and they carried on.


Jorge sped up for the last stretch of road and was driving so fast that he nearly missed the turn off for the Evergreen Motel. He screeched to a halt at the last minute and they jumped out.

“Right, Jorge I want you to look around. I’m gonna go have a little chat with the manager,”


Jorge nodded and they went their separate ways. The motel was a clean and quaint building that had none of the usual sleaziness of its urban counterparts. It was instead surrounded by a beautiful forest and a multitude of flowers were outside each door in little hanging baskets. He wondered how a man like Reiner would have been accepted here with his hostage in tow. It looked like the kinda place where everyone noticed everything.

The bell above the door rang as Jerry entered the reception. A short, obese man with an asymmetrical toupee was behind the desk. He smiled awkwardly as Jerry approached.

“How can I help sir? We have basic rooms starting from $49.99 or….”
“No I’m not looking for a room,” Jerry interrupted.


It took the manager aback and he stood slack jawed for a moment.

“Are you police?” was all he could think to say to the intimidating man
“Er…. Yeah…. I’m police. Chicago PD,” he placed his hand into his jacket as if he was going to pull out his ID but he didn’t.
“Chicago? What are you doing down here?”


Jerry didn’t have a good answer for that so he began talking quickly and gesticulating his hands wildly.

“We’re looking for guy who was seen staying here a couple nights back, a Carl Reiner. Does the name ring a bell?”
“Hmmmm…. It does not,” the little manager shook his head nervously.
“Well can you check your book?”
“Sure. Two seconds,” and he started to flick through pages of names. “Nope, no Carl Reiner,” he finally concluded.
“May I?” Jerry held the edge of the book to signify he was taking it with or without permission.


He traced a finger down the middle of the pages to try and see a name that stuck out. Eventually he found one.