Angel Face Read Online Free Page A

Finally satisfied, he starts the engine and drives away.
    â€˜If I was your client, what fantasy do you think I’d pick?’ he asks.
    Angel tilts her head to one side and peers at Carter. Talk about forgettable. Carter’s neither ugly, nor handsome. He’s a twenty-something in good shape, though not especially broad or tall, with medium-length, light brown hair, not quite a nerd, but definitely edging toward that side of the spectrum. That he should be a professional killer amazes her.
    â€˜OK, like you’re this hard-hearted, cold-blooded, merciless assassin. You’ve murdered so many people you can’t even remember their faces. And what you’re thinkin’, though you don’t say it out loud, is that you have to kill me, too. I mean, keepin’ me alive? It doesn’t make sense. But there’s something about me, so young, so innocent, that your heart is touched . . .’ Angel’s about to say, ‘And your cock, too,’ but censors herself at the last moment. Which is not to say that she wouldn’t trade sex for her life.
    Carter laughs for the first time in weeks, laughs at Angel’s boldness. ‘In the end, of course, I let you go. I let you go and everybody lives happily ever after.’
    â€˜Or words to that effect.’
    â€˜Do I get laid along the way?’
    â€˜Do you want to?’
    â€˜No, I want you to pass a little test for me, a one-question test: How can I be sure you won’t run to the cops if I let you go?’
    Angel’s already asked herself the same question. Now, hearing it from Carter’s lips, she knows there’s an answer. She knows because she’s looking right at him and he’s not worried.
    Carter takes the scenic route back to Manhattan, Broadway instead of the West Side Highway. He doesn’t want to pass over the Henry Hudson Bridge with its toll plaza and surveillance cameras that photograph every license plate. He wants more time with Angel, too.
    â€˜Here’s a hint,’ Carter says. ‘You probably won’t have to go to the cops. Most likely, they’ll come to you.’
    Damn, Angel thinks. She must be a complete idiot. Ricky Ditto can be tied to Pigalle Studios through his credit card records. And Pierre? Pierre’s a nice guy, but if the cops press him, he’ll give her up in a heartbeat.
    â€˜So, what are you gonna tell them, Angel? If the cops should knock on your door? Will you claim that a mysterious hitman just happened to be waiting in the house when you showed up? How will you prove it? I didn’t leave any trace evidence in that house. It’s your word against nothing.’
    â€˜OK, I get the point. So tell me what you’d do, if you were in my position.’
    â€˜I’d call my pimp—’
    â€˜My agent.’
    â€˜I’d call my agent and tell him the trick didn’t—’
    â€˜The client.’
    â€˜I’d tell him the client never showed up. I’m cold, I’m wet and I’m really pissed off.’
    â€˜What about the cops?’
    â€˜If you get any warning that the cops have been around, hire a lawyer and keep his business card in your pocket. If you don’t get a warning – if the cops snatch you off the street – invoke your right to remain silent and ask for an attorney. They’ll keep coming at you, right? They’re not gonna stop the first time you ask. But if you keep your mouth shut long enough, one of two things will happen. If the cops have enough to make an arrest, they’ll put you in the system. If they don’t, they’ll let you go. This is true whether you talk to them or not. No matter what you say, if the cops have enough evidence to make an arrest, you’ll be arrested.’
    They drift into silence as they pass through the valley at 125th Street, heading south, then climb a steep hill running alongside elevated subway tracks that disappear