Chapter 4

Mordechai

“You study up on your backstory?” Jonathan asked me after calling me into his office.

“It was pretty thorough.”

“Should be. Got it off a real guy in Kansas. Don’t worry; he’s dead.”

I looked down at the papers in my hand, seeing that the man had been the same age as me. His description fit as well, making it all too easy to forge the rest of the paperwork I’d need. If someone looked into anything, I could just pull from his life. His very boring, Kansasy life.

“Quick question,” I said, holding up my new ID. “So Zoil was too conspicuous but the Mordechai bit was keepable.”

“That’s not a word, champ, but I thought you would appreciate having your own name. You have any idea how few Jews they got in Kansas? I busted my ass to get you that.”

I kept my expression blank, as if nothing he said bothered me. I’d heard worse. A hell of a lot worse. “Thank you.”

“Everything is in place. As long as you stick with your new history, anything they look for is there. Couldn’t manage the social media though, so you just don’t have any. Make up some shit about how it goes against your religion.”

“Okay.”

“You know what you’re going to do?”

“Drive down to the car wash on Oak, walk over to the car left for me two blocks over, show up at the Locke house, have my interview, and then get the job.”

With a grin, Jonathan said, “You got it, kiddo.” He leaned against the front of his desk. “You worried about anything?”

“No.”

He laughed. “Nah, you wouldn’t be. You got a thick skull. It would be hard to break it.”

Or, I knew what the fuck I was doing. One of those options. “This won’t be hard. I just have to look like the kind of person who can keep some spoiled brat safe.”

“It’s more than that. You need to get in there and get me information. Eleanor Locke is the sole heir to the entire estate and business. She’s bound to know something good. We’ll get something useful, then kill the girl and be done with it. Locke’s gonna be so fucked up that we’ll have the chance to take him out. For now, he’ll be in high alert. Anything fishy, and he might shoot you in the head on the spot. You’re disposable, Morty. He’ll kill you and find someone knew in a couple days at most. Remember that.”

I highly doubted I would be able to forget that. Literally any wrong move could have gotten me killed. If the girl I would have to be around all hours of the day caught me slipping even once, it would all be over. Then when would I find time to get a pet bird? I already had a name picked out.

“How long you think I’ll be there?” I asked.

“Could be weeks. Could be a couple months. I don’t know yet. I want to get something good before we go kill the girl. We could get in, do it, then leave, but I want this man destroyed. No chance of coming back. Short of setting the house on fire when they’re all sleeping, this seems like the best option.”

I looked down at the papers again, feeling the weight of exactly how much I had to remember at any given time. I didn’t think the girl would ask me too much about myself. In all likelihood, she would pretend I didn’t exist. I would be stuck sitting through lunch with her friends and maybe a trip somewhere. If I got really lucky, she would get wasted and I’d just have to carry her to her bed and pray she slept for a while. I could bring a sketch pad and draw the bird I would never get to own.

“You sure you got all that?” Jonathan said, tapping on the papers I held. “It sure is a whole lot.” He spoke slowly, as if that would make the gravity of this sink in more. “Can you handle it?”

“I can handle it,” I assured him. “You can quiz me.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Parents?”

“Dad left and Mom lives in Calabasas. I send her money every month. She doesn’t need it, but I want her to have it.”

“What street did you live on?”

“East Warren Avenue. There’s a little duck pond down the road and it freezes over in the winter.”

“Good. School?”

“Derby High School. It’s right next to a McDonalds. I would go there on Fridays to get an ice cream thing and wait out my mom’s boyfriend so he would be gone by the time I got home.”

I went on for another half hour before he trusted that I could get it all memorized. I’d been studying for the past two days and believed I would be fine. But I couldn’t really convince Jonathan that I could be trusted to do much more than use my hands to solve a problem.

Jonathan looked me in the eyes and put his hand on my shoulder, saying, “Do anything you have to do to convince this man to hire you. You understand me? Nothing is more important than this move. You do anything it takes.”

“I’ll do anything it takes.”

I left for the new car, making sure that no one followed me out of the house. I didn’t go to my apartment, though I thought I should have maybe grabbed something else personal to make me seem a little more human. Nothing from my real life. I decided that. It would all have to be a lie.

I still wanted my sketchbook.

I arrived at the Locke estate exactly on time, but it took twenty minutes to get through the gate. I had four guys on me, patting me down to make sure I didn’t carry anything inside. I’d left all weapons behind, bringing the new phone that Jonathan had gotten me. It had been loaded with fake pictures, games I didn’t play, and whatever else it took to look real if the Locke girl got bored and stole it off me.

I couldn’t spot a single camera outside of the estate, which made sense to me. Best not have footage of the sort of things that happened here. The house itself was almost too much to look at. There must have been more than ten bedrooms. I saw a pool outside, an orchard, cars in a lot, a fountain and garden, and a nice little hill that looked inviting to sit on. I couldn’t imagine living every day in that sort of decadence.

“This way,” a man directed me through the front door. I didn’t think to dress more casually, putting on one of my plain black suits. It seemed to match everyone else’s attire. I saw only men walking around, with not a single armed woman to be seen. Maybe they were on the other side of the house.

I followed four people into an office that smelled too much like bleach. Looking around, I could see a couple broken wood planks on the floor, a rolled up carpet in the corner, and a can of spray air freshener in the trash. The room felt like death, so all the cover ups didn’t do much.

The room didn’t have any windows, which didn’t surprise me. The door had four locks on it, I spotted the hidden gun under the desk, the knife taped behind a statue, and the trap door in the corner. The wood didn’t lay right, and I would have bet my life that he had an escape set up just in case. Finally, I saw three corgis laying in a pile together near Locke’s feet.

“Mordechai Clare,” his guard said, handing Simon Locke a file on me. The man took it, then shook my hand and told me to have a seat.

One guard remained in the corner, silently standing there as I sat down with Locke. The dogs didn’t even move until he tossed them each a treat from his desk.

“Your parents musta hated you,” Locke said. “Hell of a first name.”

“I’m named after my father, and his father before him,” I said.

The man nodded. “I can respect that. You and your father get along?”

Words about my real father bubbled to the surface, but I had a part to play. “I didn’t know him very well,” I said honestly. “He wasn’t around.”

Locke frowned. “Ah, I see. I don’t like when a man doesn’t take responsibility for his family. When you have a kid, you need to take care of them. Your feelings don’t matter anymore.”

“I agree, sir.”

He turned the top page of the stack of papers, letting his eyes skim it. “Says you’ve got six years of experience as a personal body guard to some internet guy. Tell me about that?”

 “One of those people famous for vlogs where they don’t really do anything. I think the fact that he was from Kansas seemed to compel people. He mostly set stuff on fire to keep from getting bored, and I would guard him when he did tours and fan meet ups.”

Locke’s brow furrowed. “He didn’t do anything, but he had tours?”

“I know. It’s dumb to me too, but a paycheck is a paycheck.”

“And that paycheck means a lot to you?”

“Money is survival.”

“It is. You would be willing to put your life in danger for money? Because I’ll be honest with you, my family has a lot of targets on their back. Ellie is no internet star. She’s the only daughter to the most powerful family on the East Coast. It’s more than likely that you would have to hurt someone to keep her safe.”

I nodded. “I have no problem hurting someone. Especially if they’re endangering an innocent girl.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And I would pay you appropriately for the job I’m asking you to do. I’ve talked to four men so far, and it looked like you have the best qualifications. After that internet guy, I see that you had a year working for the Harding family over in California. I know they get messy. How messy did you have to get?”

I knew what he wanted to know, but I still dodged. “Very messy.”

Then he came out with it. “Have you ever killed someone?”

“Many someones.”

He turned another page. “How do you feel about twenty-four-hour surveillance? That means staying with Ellie, it means standing outside her bathroom door while she showers, it means testing her food to make sure it’s not poisoned. It means keeping her alive at any cost, and for I don’t know how long.”

“I have nothing else to live for,” I admitted. “Wouldn’t be much of a loss if I died protecting her.”

“You seem apathetic. Why put yourself in danger for money? You could go work at the grocery store.”

“The grocery store wouldn’t pay for my drawing pens. Ten bucks a color.”

That made Locke laugh. Something about that made me uncomfortable. “I see. Well, your motivation isn’t as important as your willingness to do the job. I should probably tell you about my daughter so you can decide if you think you can handle it.”

It hardly mattered. “Sure.”

“She has this habit of sticking her nose into things that aren’t her business. I can’t blame her for her curious mind, but she’s stubborn as hell. The only person she listens to is her mother. That being said, you’ll be working for Ellie. That means you need to make her happy. You’re possibly going to be her guard, but it’s more than that. I don’t like it when my little girl is unhappy.”

I already wanted her dead. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Just get her what she asks for. If she’s hungry, make sure she’s fed. If she wants to go somewhere, you take her. If she tells you to stand on the roof so she can watch you balance, you do it.”

I certainly, immediately, wanted her dead. “Anything she wants.”

“You ever use a gun?”

“Many, many times. I’m also trained with knives, and I took archery in school. Best in my class.”

Locke flipped through more of the papers, asking me little things about my past. I answered them in character, doing my best to sell the story. I studied every facial expression from Locke, trying to see if he could see through my lies. Every flinch, every eye twitch, it all had me positive I’d fucked up. Too stupid to keep up with some simple lies. If the only thing I was good for was being this, then what did it say about me that I might have failed so easy?

“You don’t have much going on, do you?” Locke asked me. “No wife, no pets, no nothing.”

“Nope. I work a lot. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for other things.”

“You gotta make time. I work seven days a week, sixteen hours at least. I don’t know where I would be without my girls.”

I made myself smile. “I have no desire for a family. With work like mine, it seems like a bad idea.”

“The worst idea. I never let that stop me before.”

I already knew the man was selfish, but nothing stated it clearer than that. “I don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”

“Eh, better for me then. I like you so far. What makes you want this job anyway?”

“Money,” I answered. If I had said anything else, he could have seen right through it. If I said that protecting a girl would be the right thing to do, maybe he would have seen me as more honorable, but I knew I couldn’t sell that. Saying I wanted to help his family would have been ass kissing, and I would have come off as eager, wanting a place within his ranks. Not unreasonable, but for another time. He might have questioned why I would want in when things were so especially messy.

“Money is a good motivator,” Locke agreed. “I think that would get you to do your job almost as good as anything. The other motivator, of course, would be a threat on your life.”

“What life?” I said before I could stop myself.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Something icy settled in my chest.

Locke cleared his throat, standing up and whistling. The corgis all rose and approached him for attention. He walked them to the door, opened it, and let them out as he ordered someone to take them to eat. He came back in and nodded at the one other man in the room, who promptly left us. The door stayed open.

“I feel like you don’t know what you would be getting into with my kid,” Locke said. “Do you know anything about her?”

“I don’t pay much attention to the things that aren’t directly a part of my life.” Jonathan said I didn’t have enough room in my brain to keep up with it anyway. It must have been true, as I didn’t really keep up.

“On purpose?” Locke asked. “That make it easier?”

“Make what easier?”

“Everything.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. More importantly, I didn’t even know the answer. “Maybe.”

Locke stayed silent for a few seconds, then he looked to something in the hall that I couldn’t see. “I like you so far, Mort. Now, I like one of the other guys too. He couldn’t pass the very last test. None of them could. Let’s see if you do.”

With a nod from Locke, that guy walked back in with a man who had a bag over his head. The doors shut and the bag came off. Greg stood there, a gag in his mouth and his hands bound in front of him. I didn’t allow myself to react.

Did he know? Had Locke found out before I’d even showed up, planning this long, drawn out thing to make a point? Did the theatrics matter if Greg and I would both die anyway? Logic told me not to, but since when could I trust my own brain? I just sat back, staying calm. Greg wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t look at anything.

I stole one quick glance at the man, trying to see what he might have been thinking. He gave me nothing. I’d known him for about eight years or so; since he’d started working for Jonathan. He worked himself up from security guard to full blown surveillance for god knew how many operations Jonathan ran. He hadn’t paid me much mind, but he never hassled me like some of the others had.

“I need to know you’re willing to do what it takes to protect my daughter,” Locke said. “I also need to know if you’re capable.”

The guard freed Greg’s wrists but Greg didn’t move. I didn’t see a point in it when the guard had a gun on his hip.

Locke moved back behind his desk, then took a seat. “The way I see it, one of you could walk out of here. Winner takes all.”

I cocked my eyebrow. “Winner?”

“Prove you can protect my daughter against a man willing to give his life for something. Kill him, then you have the job.”

The guard moved back and Greg started to panic. He grabbed at a paperweight on the desk, clearly ready to defend his life. I couldn’t blame him.

I stood up, in no rush. When he came at me, I stepped out of the way and slid over to the statue. In about three seconds, I grabbed the knife taped to the back of it, stuck it in his throat, twisted, and he fell. He was dead fast, leaking all over the floor.

Do whatever it takes, I’d been told.

I used my sleeve to clean the blood off my face as Locke laughed, clapping his hands together once. “Well, look at that. You got yourself a job.”

I stared at the corpse on the ground, not even sure what number that made for me. I had one skill, so at least it impressed. Locke looked too pleased as I tossed his knife onto his desk, letting the blood splatter. Pleased, and for this.

I pulled a wet wipe from my pocket and ran it against my blood-stained fingers. “When do I start?”