Page 46 of Hannah and the Hitman

He stood. “I need to use the restroom.”

29

JACK

This time, when Turkleman headed toward the restrooms, he actually went into a restroom. I knew because I caught up to him quick enough to see him enter one of them. I stuck my foot in the door before it could shut and be locked.

His gaze lifted to mine in surprise.

He tipped his head. “Take the other one.”

“Not happening.” I was motivated by more than money now. Sal wanted this fucker dead. After learning what he did for a living, I wanted him dead, too. The world would be better without him. Now, though, I was also motivated by Hannah. She was out there by herself and that was fucking wrong.

I pushed my way inside, not taking my eyes off Turkleman. His bald head glowed under the lights over the sink.While I doubted he was prepared to use a weapon in the bathroom, I was still careful.

“What the fuck, man?”

I didn’t answer, only reached out, grabbed him by the nape with one hand, his chin with the other and snapped his neck. He sagged in my hold.

There was a tentative knock on the door. “Jack? Are you okay?”

My head whipped toward the closed door.

Hannah. Shit.

Thank fuck I’d flipped the deadbolt, not that she would barge in on someone’s privacy. It was one thing to see me taking a piss though. It was another seeing me with a dead guy.

“I’ll be out in a sec,” I called, panting.

My heart was jackhammering and not because I had a dead man in my arms. He was getting heavier by the second.

Fuck!

Okay, get this done and get Hannah the hell away from here.

I let Turkleman drop to the ground with a thud and got to work, squatting down to loosen the line beneath the sink. It immediately started spurting water on the floor. Then I whacked Turkeman’s head against the hard tile so it looked like he slipped and fell.

An eagle-eyed detective wouldn’t see past this shoddy effort, but it would cause misdirect for a stretch. Perhaps until Turkleman’s name hit the system and the FBI or Interpol got wind of his death and take over. They’d know it was a hit and probably not care who did it.

Still, I needed Dax’s and Nitro’s help to ensure there were no security cameras back here and wiped clean if there were. Definitely not in the bathroom, but maybe in the hallway, especially now that Hannah would also be on any footage. I didn’t take time to look for something subtle.

Pulling out my phone, I texted Dax.

Clean up in aisle five.

He’d know what that meant and what to do. Taking one last look at the dead man and the water starting to spread across the floor, I sighed.

Fucking hell. I didn’t need this bullshit in my life. I turned, exited the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

There stood Hannah, nervously waiting.

“Here.” She thrust a little pink tablet toward me.

I stared at it, trying to switch gears from dead guy to my girl.

“What’s that for?” I asked, lost.

“For your stomach. We’ve had dinner three nights in a row, and you’ve had to leave in the middle each time. Are you lactose intolerant? It’s okay if you are.”