The Assassin's List Read Online Free Page A

I had no way of knowing she’d return that evening.”
    “Did you consider having someone outside, to warn you? Of course not, or you wouldn’t have been surprised. Is there any evidence you were there?”
    “No. I wore surgical gloves, and the surveillance system was turned off. There’s nothing that could identify me. I took precautions.”
    “Except for posting a lookout. Were you able to verify the current password?”
    “Yes, nothing has changed in the security system at the depot. We’re okay.”
    “Make sure that we are. Also, make sure the investigation of the woman’s murder doesn’t get close to you. A third mistake would be your last,” Malik said, ending the call.
    Kaamil wiped off his fingerprints and dropped the cell phone in his briefcase to be thrown away. If Malik counted two mistakes against him already, he couldn’t afford another. His old football coach used to say, “Son, if you can’t carry the ball without losing it, I’ll find someone who can.” In the game he was playing now, benching would be more permanent than the old coach ever contemplated.

 
    Chapter 6
    Drake opened his eyes at five o’clock with Lancer, his five-year-old German shepherd, licking his face. It was time for their morning run. He threw his arm around the neck of his companion. Time to get back to their old routine. He had to meet Richard Martin, and a good run would get his blood flowing for the day.
    “Lancer, old buddy, I know you think I’m going to be an easy mark this morning, but I might surprise you. If I do, you get dried dog food and I get breakfast out. How about that?” he asked his tail-wagging dog.
    He pulled on his running gear, laced up his Nikes, and followed his dog. Lancer had been trained for protection dog competition since he was six months old, and was the best in Oregon. One-hundred-ten pounds of obedient aggression, Lancer was a perfect companion. Except on early mornings when Lancer was ready to run and he wasn’t.
    “All right you masochist, let’s get it on,” Drake said, opening the laundry room door onto the back porch.
    Stepping off the porch, Drake stretched his hamstrings, breathed deeply, and began jogging along the brick walkway to the unfinished winery parking area behind his house. Tall fir trees stood behind the winery building that now served as a shop and garage for Drake’s Porsche and Kay’s Range Rover LR3. The surrounding vineyards filled the air with the scent of green lushness. Early in the morning, you could even smell summer lavender.
    From the paved parking area, he followed Lancer down the long gravel driveway that ran along the southern border of the farm, down to Worden Road. At the bottom of the driveway, they turned north for two miles of steady uphill climbing before heading east toward the small city of Newberg. Then they ran downhill, past farmland not yet planted and young vineyards still maturing, until they reached Worden Road again and headed back to the farm.
    Drake ran sluggishly after his dog, a tan reminder of better morning runs. It looked like breakfast was on him again, he thought, as they turned back up the driveway of his farm. Time to get back in shape.
    Fixing breakfast for Lancer was easy. The dog enjoyed anything Drake fed him. His own breakfast was more of a problem. Nothing he fixed lately had any taste. The usual scrambled eggs with bacon, marmalade and toast tasted like sawdust. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to his friend at the Black Walnut Inn to see if their gourmet breakfast offerings would taste better.
    After a quick protein drink, shower, and shave, Drake left for Martin Research, driving north. The sound of the Porsche’s restrained whine begged him to unleash the car’s power, but he didn’t need another speeding ticket to distract him before meeting his new client.
    The thought of a new client reminded him to call his secretary. Punching the speed dial on his dash-mounted cell phone, he waited to see what mood