A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(59)

Agitated, he shook his head. He had to think about the present, about what was important. Almost against his will his gaze strayed back to the muted television screen above the mantel. He unmuted it.

The same story was still playing. He needed to figure out what to do. He picked up the cold beer on his coffee table, took a swig.

Sitting behind the news desk on-screen, the brunette anchor stared at the camera, her expression sincere. “For those who are just tuning in, it’s a shocking night in Miami. The remains of almost forty women have been found. The police haven’t released the location or the causes of death, but it looks as if there could be a serial killer . . .”

Sid tuned her out and collapsed onto the couch. What he’d thought was a sleek and modern piece of furniture when he bought it now felt stiff and uncomfortable to sit on. Or maybe it was because he knew the FBI could be onto him now. Onto their whole operation.

What the hell was he going to do? He tugged his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the screen just in case he’d missed a call. Nothing. His boss had to have seen the news. The police had found one of his dumping sites. That place had been perfect too.

Private, owned by someone who lived out of state or something and didn’t plan to return to Florida any time soon.

“We were careful, though,” he muttered to himself. They’d sterilized each body before he dumped it. So there wouldn’t be any evidence linking any of them. Well, the women were evidence, but it wasn’t as if the police would be smart enough to tie the women to the babies they’d sold to rich people with more money than sense. No, things would be okay. They’d probably just figure a serial killer was on the loose. But still, they’d be digging into this case hard-core now. What if they caught him on a traffic cam and somehow figured out he was the one who’d dumped the bodies?

A chiming sound made him jump and he nearly spilled his beer. The downstairs security should have informed him he had visitors before anyone showed up here. Out of habit, he checked the weapon at the back of his pants and stood up. His heartbeat was erratic, so he took a deep, calming breath.

At his front door he turned on the video screen above the security keypad so he could see who was outside. Damn it, it was the doctor. He didn’t see anyone with the doc, so maybe the people he worked with didn’t want him dead.

Sid thought about ignoring it, but whatever the doc wanted, he needed to hear him out. If he had to kill the guy, so be it. He withdrew his weapon and opened the door. He didn’t point it at the man just yet, but kept his finger on the trigger.

Dr. Phil Davis looked at his weapon with disdain. “A gun, really?” Without waiting for a response, Phil strode inside, his steps brisk. “I take it you’ve seen the news?” he continued.

“Yep. That lake is fucking secure! I don’t know how—”

Phil held up a hand, his expression arrogant as usual. Something Sid found ironic, considering what a fuckup the guy was. He’d been fired from the hospital he worked at for too many malpractice suits. But the real kicker had been when he let a judge’s daughter die on the operating table. The board had let him go almost immediately and he’d paid out the nose in a civil suit. “No one cares about the discovery. The police won’t find any evidence on us. We were all careful.” Phil looked at him pointedly, as if in question.

Sid nodded. “I’m always careful.”

“Good. You need to get focused because you have three more jobs this week.” He pulled a thin file folder from inside his jacket, handed it to Sid. “And burn this shit when you’re done. We all need to be careful, now more than ever. No digital trail, nothing to link us to this.”

Three? Sid blinked. “You want me to take more targets? Now?” No way. That was just asking for trouble. There had been a brief mention of a federal agency getting involved by that reporter, but nothing more. He was pretty sure the FBI got involved with serial killers. Maybe not every time, but often enough. Or that was what he’d seen on television. For all he knew the feds or even the locals knew about his other dump sites. The thought made a cold sweat spread through him.

Phil nodded, his expression hard. “You will do as you’re told. We want the new acquisitions as quickly as possible. After we acquire them we won’t be taking any more for a while. The media have caused a problem for us, but we can still make a nice profit if we bring in four more.”

Sid frowned. “I thought you said three.”

“I did. Boss will be taking one alone.”

He started to ask why, but cut himself off. Whatever. One less job for Sid to worry about.

But he must have read the question in Sid’s eyes because the doctor just shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t care why.” He turned and yanked open the front door. As he stepped halfway out, he turned and looked over his shoulder, his eyes shrewd—as if he knew what Sid was thinking. “If you think about doing anything stupid, you know what will happen to you.” The warning note in his voice was clear.

Sid rolled his eyes and shut the door on him. Fucking doctor thought he could threaten him. But the truth was, a thread of fear slithered down his spine. It wasn’t the doctor he was worried about.

After these next three targets, he was definitely out. Hell, if they were going to lie low after he took the women anyway, his employer wouldn’t need him. That thought gave him pause. If they didn’t need him, he’d be disposable.