A Guardian Angel (6 page)

However, he
noticed, the farther he waded into the waters, the better he felt.
Years of anguish were washing off of him like grime. He felt happy.

Something hit him
hard in the back and he was thrown face forward into the water. His
body was held in shock, just as his mind was as he watched his own
blood seep out of him and into the water.
Finally,
he thought.
Finally, it's
over. Finally I can die.

Steven woke Andy
up.

“Do you want
to come with me today?” Steven asked.

“Hmm?”
Andy hummed in response, his mind fogged by the haze of half-sleep.

“Today,”
Steven started, “do you want to come? You don't need to. I
stalk best by myself.”

Andy rubbed the
sleep from his eyes. “At least you're honest about what you
do,” he grunted. Then he looked up at his partner who still
expected an answer. “No. You go.”

“Okay, then I
will be back in time for dinner, which I would like you to make.”

“What?”

“I've left
thirty dollars on the TV stand,” Steven continued. “Go
shop for something delicious. Buy yourself a beer. Get to know the
city.”

“I don't want
to know it.”

Steven shrugged.
“Fine. Don't do it,” he said in response before vanishing
from Andy's room. “Remember, I'm allergic to nuts!” Andy
could hear the front door open, then close, then lock.

He scoffed before
falling back asleep.

When he awoke from
a dreamless slumber, he remembered Steven's request. Worried, he
checked the time. It was only noon.

He stumbled into
the living room and actually found that it had been cleaned and
organized. The invading dishes had been eradicated and the general
layout of the room was tidied. The carpet had also been vacuumed.
And, as Steven had said, a twenty and ten dollar bill rested on the
television stand. Andy stared at them for a moment before making up
his mind. He stuffed them into his pocket and slipped out the door.

To Andy's surprise,
Steven had left his car in the driveway. He had either decided to
follow Flynn on foot, got a bicycle, or took a taxi. Either way, the
car was intended for Andy's use, as the giant “drive me”
written in dust in the rear window demanded.

He climbed into the
car, noticing how strange it was that it was left unlocked. He never
saw something like that. In an instant, he realized that he did not
have the keys, but the worry passed as he remembered the spot behind
the brake pedal. There they were. He grinned as he remembered that
his purpose was of leisure. No work was expected of him.

Most cities Andy
had ever been in confused him. Seldom could he get to a specified
destination without directions. There were never any lucky shots in
the dark. Lumnin was not such a city. In fact, the alphabetically
ordered streets would require some skill to get lost among. The
restaurants were next to the entertainment venues and the department
stores were near banks. It all made sense.

Seeing the whole
city shouldn't be done on such an empty stomach, Andy decided, so he
pulled into a family owned grocery store. The car eased into the spot
and he walked from it to the store with no worry at all that he had
to have his trigger finger poised. Instead he came as a normal
American shopper. My true freedom, Andy thought for a moment. How
relieving it was.

Something unique
had to be cooked, as long as he could remember a recipe or learn one
in time. He stopped by the meat cooler, and after careful comparison,
left with a large pack of pork chops, off to some other section of
the store for sides. Eggs. He picked up eggs. Sunny-side-up pork chop
sandwiches was a delightful recipe that Max had invented one day and
shared with him.

A few other things
found their way into Andy's basket. A bottle of tequila, two dozen
donuts and a block of smoked cheddar. Luxuries that he dug into his
own wallet for, dismissing Steven's thirty as nice but not needed. He
made sure he had as much paper as he needed as he slid past a woman
at check stand four and made it to the front of check stand three,
which ran parallel.

“Excuse me?”
the woman from check stand four said, tapping him on the shoulder and
provoking him to face her.

Andy's heart
dropped to his gut and it was there that it chose to sizzle in acid.

“We've met,
haven't we?” Haley Flynn asked.

Little could have
prepared him for this. Nothing could spare him now other than his
tuned control over every aspect of his appearance. “I'm sorry?”
he asked, continuing to bag his groceries.

“You look so
familiar,” she replied. She traced across his face with her icy
blue eyes. “What's your name?”

Even her voice
sounded fragile. Like the highest note on a grand piano. Threatening
to break but singing so bright until it would, which it never did.
Like nothing had ever touched that voice. Andy couldn't help but let
his eyes swim for a mere second. In the corner of his eye he could
see Steven waving at him from the drink coolers on check stand one. A
pained expression was etched into his features, similar to the one
Andy felt himself get when he recalled embarrassing memories. Steven
drug his hands through his black hair with a speed that threatened to
rip it all out. Andy looked back to Haley.

“Andy,”
he answered her, trying his best to seem bothered. Perhaps she would
get bored and leave if he failed to engage her. He purposely forgot
to ask Haley for her own name as he continued operating the check
stand.

“My name's
Haley,” she introduced herself. She looked into his eyes. It
unnerved Andy. She almost seemed stoned.
Maybe she
was
stoned,
Andy hoped. Then he became afraid.
Maybe
I'm
stoned.

“Haley,”
Andy said the name, flipping it over in his mouth and testing how it
felt. It felt lighter than mist but heavier than rain.
No,
he
thought.
No.
“Look, I'm kind of busy – ”

“I don't mean
to come off as strange, but you wouldn't be interested in getting to
know each other, would you?” Haley started asking. She pulled
on a long length of hair and moved it out of her face and hooked it
behind her ear. She bit her lower lip. There was no possibility that
he could endure. “What do you think about drinks and a meal
sometime?”

You're married,
Andy lied to himself.
Shit, no ring. She would definitely notice
that. You have a girlfriend,
he demanded to himself.
You do.
Say it
.

“Or a walk?”
she continued, allowing Andy to think. The look on her face was of
dreamy nervousness. As if she was back in grade school. “It's
starting to warm up.”

You're gay,
he screamed to himself inside his thoughts.
Tell her that. Lie to
her!

Then it struck him.
“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds nice.”

Haley smiled with
relieved joy and pure compassion. “Yes?” she wanted to
clarify.

Andy nodded. She
grinned a touched smile that showed off her beautiful straight teeth.
She rummaged through her purse until she found a scrap piece of
paper, upon which she scribbled numbers. With happy eyes, she
extended the note to Andy.

“Call me,”
she told him before accepting her receipt from her respective check
stand. Then she walked away, feet so sturdy on the ground and curved
frame too fragile to even make a mean face at without fear of
breaking it.

A stressed groan
came from his left side, low at first but almost on the verge of
erupting once it arrived at his ear. Andy saw Steven out of the
corner of his eye, but he did not dare to draw his eyes from Haley in
fear that it might be the last time he ever saw her.

“This is not
good,” Steven hissed through clenched teeth.

“She has no
idea that we know each other,” Andy said, trying to get a
better look as Haley walked out of the door. He turned to the data
collector. “I got rid of her and that's it.”

“You can't do
surveillance anymore. She'll recognize you without a doubt,”
Steven said as if Andy had meant to run into Haley Flynn and must now
be punished. “If you aren't able to get dirt on her, what good
are you here?”

Andy looked back
out to the parking lot. A neon blue bike darted by.

“Get a hold
of Mr. Graves,” Andy instructed. “I need to talk to him.”

-Chapter Six-

Why

“Hello?”
Steven said with clammed words into the receiver of the phone. “Yes,
I know, but Summers requested it. Requested. Of course. Okay, thank
you. Goodbye.” He hung the phone up and looked over at Andy.
Genuine fear was stamped above his eyes.

“Thank you,”
Andy offered. He was grateful that he could get Leroy Graves' number
in the first place, let alone that Steven himself would offer to call
him and arrange his own meeting. At this point, he was upset by his
roommate's distress. “I'll be back. I want to ask him 'why.'”

“Why what?”
Steven demanded.

Andy almost replied
“why must Flynn die,” but he caught himself; once he did
say that, there was no return. And this man that he had lived with
for the last two days would know that he had been deceived.

“Why her,”
he settled with.

“I hope the
answer is worth it.”

Andy sighed as he
turned the door knob, hesitating only a moment before disappearing
from the house to meet Mr. Graves.

The plane sat on
the runway like a cat sunbathing. How Andy had started to hate Mr.
Graves' customary method of meeting with people like him. It seemed
cowardly. However, it was a little convenient for him. He got Steven
to secure him a flight from here to Chicago so he could visit for the
rest of the day. Mr. Graves believed that Andy was feeling homesick
and just needed a rest in order to complete the job.

“Mr. Winter!”
Leroy Graves addressed the assassin as he climbed up the stairs and
entered the jet.

Andy took a seat as
the plane took off. “Sir,” he called his employer.

“Now what was
it you wanted to talk about? Mr. Graves asked, then added, “Scotch?”

“No, thanks,”
Andy said, dismissing the stewardess who had just appeared by his
side. “I wanted to talk to you about Haley Flynn.”

“Why?”
Leroy asked.

Andy swallowed. He
knew how the words would sound once he let them hiss out. They needed
to sound like they came from a confident man. He formed his words.
“Why does she need to die?” he asked.

Leroy Graves sat up
in his seat with a startled expression. “Why?” he echoed
the word. “Did you just ask 'why?'” He did not wait for
an answer. “Only I can ask that. Therefore, I ask you why you
must know.”

There was nothing
to be said. Nothing that would please Mr. Graves. Or Leroy; however
it was the rest of the world knew him. Perhaps he was just the
nameless man. He had no idea what to call him in his thoughts. “She
is a fragile woman,” Andy started. He chose his words with as
much care as he could manage. “I don't think I will be able to
kill her, to perform to best of my abilities unless I could calm my
conscience. I need motivation.” He begged for a reason.

“Motivation?”
Mr. Graves started. “You should realize how compromising it
would be if you did not perform as instructed. Not only would you
never see a dime of your own money, but an eradication of your
knowledge would be put in place. Do you understand what I mean? There
is nothing I can tell you about Miss Flynn. Remove the concern from
your mind.”

Andy squeezed his
eyes shut in a wild attempt to wake up. Only now did he feel stupid
for his inquiries. He should have stayed in Lumnin and done as he was
told. Or just stayed. Or, Andy thought now, ran. Anything besides
telling the man who hired him to perform severe criminal offenses
that he had to pussy out. That he wanted to pussy out.

“Forgive me,
Mr. Graves,” Andy began. “I will proceed – ”
He realized his mistake as he bit his tongue.

Leroy Graves jumped
to his feet and drew a small six-shooter, aiming it at Andy's heart.
The hitman did little to react other and loosening his face in
instant regret.

“What did you
call me?” Mr. Graves asked. His face was far more serious than
Andy had ever seen it before.