The Good Twin(33)

“How are you going to do it?”

“That’s irrelevant for you. It’ll be done, and no clues will be left behind. That’s all you need to know.”

“How will we know you’ve carried it out?”

The hit man looked over at Ben.

“Actually, I’d like to know that, too,” Ben said.

He laughed. “What, you won’t take my word for it?”

“The word of a hit man?” I said. “Maybe if this was a murder that would end up splashed all over the newspapers, yeah, that would do. But here, you’ve promised to make sure no one ever finds the body. So, how do we know she’s really dead?”

He thought for a while. “I’ll leave a disposable cell phone at your house, with pictures of her on it. Take a look, then throw away the phone.”

“She could be pretending to be dead.”

He laughed again. “Not in the pictures I’ll send.” He turned to me. “Satisfied?”

I nodded. “Completely.”

He held out his hand, and Ben placed an envelope in it.

“Pleasure doing business with you both,” he said, then disappeared into the darkness.





CHAPTER 23

Ben knew this past week had been brutal for Charly. Rick was under hospice care, and Charly had told Ben he was barely conscious most of the time. When Charly arrived home that night from her father’s apartment, he expected her to retreat into the bedroom as she always did. Instead, she sat down next to him. She put her head on his shoulder. “I miss you.”

What the hell? Ben thought. He picked up her hand and stroked it.

“I miss us. I miss intimacy.” She turned to Ben and kissed his lips softly, then harder. She placed her hand on his crotch and began stroking his genitals. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help responding. Any guy would, he knew. When she felt him get hard, she stood up and motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom, then began slowly undressing. He followed suit, only more quickly, then jumped into bed, pulling her to him when she’d taken off the last items of clothing. It had been months since they’d made love, and they tore at each other hungrily. When it was finished, Ben rolled over, confused.

“Thank you,” Charly said. “I needed that.” She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, saying, “I’m going to take a shower now.”

Ben got out of bed, too. Charly had dumped her clothes on a chair, and he went to hang them up for her. He picked up her skirt and blouse and saw a manila envelope underneath. He couldn’t help himself. The shower was still on; Charly wouldn’t know. He pulled out the document inside and saw it was a copy of Rick’s trust. Quickly, he glanced through it. There were a few charitable bequests, but except for 10 percent of the business going to Manning, everything else went to Charly. Just as he expected. He didn’t mind Manning getting 10 percent. It only gave him a seat at the table, not much of a voice to go with it. When he reached the end, he noted the name of the attorney who’d witnessed the trust. He looked again at the envelope and saw the name of the law firm he was with. He grabbed his phone and jotted down both names.

Perfect, he thought. He now knew just where to send Mallory to settle Rick’s estate.



The next night, Ben was surprised by a phone call from Jeff Mullin.

“I need a favor,” he said.

What the hell is he doing calling me at home? It was just lucky that Charly was late getting back from her father’s place. “What do you need?”

“Another advance. Maybe five thousand dollars?”

“I just gave you ten thousand last month. You blew through that already?”

“I, uh, some things came up. Some expenses.” He lowered his voice. “I really need it, man. Help me out.”

“What’s going to happen when the fifty grand is gone? You going to keep calling me?”

“No, man, nothing like that. We have a deal. I, uh, just need some of that early.”

Reluctantly, Ben agreed. He couldn’t risk Mullin complaining to Clark. Not when Rick was so close to dying. He could practically feel Rick’s money running through his hands. After, when it was all over, he’d worry about Mullin. And, if Mullin got too needy, if he demanded more when his cut was gone, Ben would take care of him himself. Nobody would miss a worn-out heroin addict.

“Tomorrow night. Same place, same time.”



It finally happened. The once-mighty Rick Jensen passed away. Ben wished he could feel more sympathy for the guy, but it just wasn’t there. Still, he needed to keep up the pretense with Charly, so he put on a good act. He accompanied her to the funeral home and helped her pick out a casket and make the necessary arrangements. He went through their photo albums to pick out pictures of Rick and the family to display at the funeral home. He went to Rick’s apartment to pick out a suit for him to be buried in. And every time Charly burst into tears and seemed inconsolable, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

They would have a viewing at the funeral home for two days, between 2:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m., and again between 7:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. There were simply too many employees and friends in the financial industry who wanted to pay their respects, as well as family and longtime friends, to limit it to one day. Charly’s grandfather had flown up a few days before Rick passed, and Ben’s parents and grandmother had come up from Boca Raton as well.