Page 32 of Retribution
“Can I get water and a grilled portobello burger please?” I ask.
“Absolutely. I’ll put that right in,” she says, not bothering to write it down as she grabs my menu.
I dive into different rental property options, eschewing several as I see that they’re under the same property manager. Small towns like to talk. I need something else.
Going through the listings, I find one where a man is going on an extended work trip for several months and needs someone to live in the property. The name of the property will stay in his name, the contract will be between the two of us. My lips spread in a wide smile as I read that this house has three bedrooms, is in a quiet neighborhood, within walking distance of Lucas’ home.
I email the man, ensuring that the neighbors will know that he’s renting. The last thing I need is for the cops to be called because I’m going in and out of his house.
Chuckling under my breath, I glance up to find that my water is on the table and the waitress has my food in her hands.
“Thanks,” I say, moving my laptop and closing it.
“No problem,” she says brightly, putting down my plate and continuing on. It’s beginning to get loud in here, but I can’t put in my other earbud to drown everyone out.
While I doubt that something will happen to me here, I can’t help remaining vigilant. It’s this constant reminder of the last time I didn’t and ended up enjoying Ophelia’s hospitality for several years.
Or lack of.
My first bite of my burger has me make a small noise of happiness. The onions are caramelized, the lettuce is crisp, the mushroom is juicy, and the bread is crunchy. It’s a damn good burger.
I might not be able to get a place to stay tonight, but I’m not worried about it. I don’t need much. That may sound awful, however my experience at the auction house has made me more resilient.
It doesn’t mean that I’ll ever thank her for it, not unless you count shoving a grenade in her vagina as payment. Hmm. It has a fun ring to it. I may need to do that.
The French fries that come with my sandwich are delicious as well, and I eat a few before pushing away the plate. My stomach is smaller than it used to be, and I’m sad that I can’t bring the rest of my food with me since I don’t know where I’ll land tonight.
Checking my computer, I pull up my email and find to my chagrin that he wants to meet tomorrow morning. I had a feeling. Thankfully, he says that he does plan to let the neighbors know he’s renting his place and will give them a brief description of who I am.
Feeling better, I glance up and have a wordless conversation with the passing waitress. She mimes if I’d like the check and I nod. Simple and effective.
Mr. Adamíc,
Thank you for your reply. Tomorrow morning works well for me. I’ll see you at ten.
Isa.
Now, to create some basic fake identification for him. Sighing, I spend the next couple of hours working on the dark web, hiding from Oliver in the different chats by only working with people that I’ve vetted and I’m certain aren’t him. By the end of my time at the cafe, I’ve eaten the rest of my food and I have basic identification that’ll pass muster for Mr. Troy Adamíc, who is a fifty-two year old widowed beta who is a traveling nurse.
I’m going to have to cover myself in scent blockers to pass as a beta tomorrow. Oh well, that’s tomorrow’s issue. Leaving the waitress a large cash tip because I held the table while I was working, I pack up my backpack and use the restroom. Waving goodbye as I leave, I walk out of the cafe and back to my SUV.
Now, to see what kind of security Lucas has at his home. Getting into the vehicle, I use my GPS to drive there. It wasn’t hard to find his address, which means that he’s either cocky or has his home well protected.
Driving past the house at the same time that another car is, I manage to stay under the radar as I drive with my headlights on the dimmest setting to the wooded area behind his property. It’s a twenty minute walk to hike in, but that doesn’t bother me. Tomorrow, I’m going to go by the store to buy more non hit woman clothes so I can blend in better.
I see clothing as something to use to intimidate while working, why wouldn’t I use it as camouflage?
Finding a ditch to hide the SUV, I repack my backpack with rope, night vision glasses now that it’s pitch black outside, and other supplies to take down any guards I may see that I can’t avoid. I take my boots off to add a thicker pair of socks to keep my feet warm before putting them back on and tightly retying them. Descenting spray helps to dampen, mask, and prevent my sweeter scent from escaping. It feels gross to have it all over me, but I don’t want a breeze to betray me.
Pulling on my backpack in the darkness since the lights go out the moment I turn off the engine, I slip out of the vehicle and shut the door and lock it.
Taking a deep breath, I pull on my night glasses and then shove my braids into a black skull cap. Warm enough to deal with the cold, I head out into the woods. My fingers click on the glasses, and I wince as I get used to the difference. This will pick up heat signatures as well as cameras.
Moving slowly to begin with, I stay low as I keep close to the trees. It allows me to avoid several cameras and two guards in the trees before I climb up a tree I like that overlooks Lucas’ house. Personally, I think it was way too easy, but it allowed me to get what I want, so beggars can’t be choosers.
Taking the rope, I tie myself to the trunk in case I get tired and fall asleep. The lights are all on in the house, and I notice that he owns a large parcel of land. The nearest house to him is still far enough away that he has a decent amount of privacy.
Indianapolis wouldn’t be able to give this to him. Leaning back against the trunk, I balance on the tree limb and watch the house, ready to remain at my post.
