Page 62 of Glamour and Grit

A grin spreads across his face.

“Networking. Simple networking. People think they know who works for our type of organization. Strip club owners, shady accountants, junkyard night watchmen…but the truth is we have associates everywhere. Including the two-bit junkie who watches this campground overnight. He sold you out for a rock of crack.”

He motions with the gun. “Now come along.”

I get closer and he grabs my arm with his free hand, ushering me along. We reach a steep, short hill at the edge of the campground. A slash of shadow bisecting the hill is a dirt bike trail, which Petty urges me to climb. I get about halfway up when I lose my balance and fall to the dirt.

“Quit fucking around,” Petty growls. “I hope you don’t expect me to help you get–”

He has trouble speaking because my foot is in his face. I stomp hard, and push my way up. Petty falls back and the gun fires, a long retort that seems to echo on forever. No way Dane didn’t hear that.

“Bitch,” Petty sputters. I try to run but I slip on the rugged terrain. Petty’s weight falls on my back. His arm snakes around my neck and he squeezes tight. I can still breathe, but my vision dims on the edges, and then goes almost totally black.

He lets me go, and I flop face-first into a pile of dead leaves. I struggle to stay conscious as he drags me up to a logging trail. I try and fight him off, but it feels like I’m moving through thick mud. Thinking through it, too, for that matter.

He doesn’t have any trouble getting me into the back of his SUV. I flop onto the floorboards, and find myself staring at a finely polished dark brown Italian leather shoe.

Slowly, I lift my gaze up to see the owner. Moreno. His face splits in a grin as Petty gets in the front seat.

I realize that Moreno and Petty are not alone. There’s a driver as well. Petty gives the driver a dirty look. I take it the driver refused to help in the actual abduction.

Not that Petty had needed help. The truck speeds away, and despair creeps in. Had Dane even seen what happened?

“Selene,” Moreno says. “Try and comport yourself with some dignity, and get off the floor already.”

My glare intensifies as I scramble up into the passenger seat beside him. I consider jumping out, but the truck’s really moving now and I’m a makeup artist, not a stuntwoman.

Besides, it sounds like Justin might still be alive. I can’t take the chance. I just have to hope Dane can find me.

Somehow.

“What do you want with me?” I ask, finally lucid enough to speak.

He nods. “You’ll find all you need to know right here.”

He picks up a manila folder on the seat next to him and hands it over. Inside, I find a lot of printed out photos of a middle-aged, balding man with bushy sideburns. His thick glasses make it hard to tell what color his eyes are.

There’s nothing much distinctive about him, and I’ve never seen him before in my life.

“I hope this isn’t who I’m supposed to assassinate,” I say at length. I’m surprised at how calm and level my voice sounds.

“Oh no, Selene. We need you to use your unique skill set. This individual is named Paxton Rush. He’s a two-bit data entry clerk at a business holding of mine. He’s due in court next week, but between you and me, he’s not going to make it.”

His sinister chuckle makes my skin crawl.

“What do me or my brother have to do with any of this?”

“Simple. If Rush were to go missing, then I’d be suspect numero-uno. The prosecution would make a motion to de-exclude some, shall we say, touchy documents in light of the witness being unable to testify. I can’t have that.”

“I’m not a lawyer, I can barely even follow you.”

“You don’t have to. All you have to do is work your make-up magic on one of my associates so he looks like Paxton when he shows up for his scheduled testimony.”

I scoff, shaking my head.

“You’re insane,” I sputter, despite the danger. “You can’t just make someone up to look like somebody else. It’s almost impossible. In themovies they use camera tricks and, these days, CGI to make it look good.”

“Ah, but your mastery of silicone application techniques will make it possible. Plus, just wait until you see the ringer I found. This guy already looks a lot like the genuine article. Your work is more than half done.”

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