Читать книгу Undercover with the Mob - Elizabeth Bevarly - Страница 3

Natalie stopped dead in her tracks—and then she really wished she’d come up with a better way to think about that than dead in her tracks—at the sound of Jack’s words through his apartment door.

Telling herself she was just imagining things, Natalie turned her ear closer to the door. She thought she heard him use the word whacked. But he might not have said whacked. He might have said fact. Or quacked. Or shellacked. And those were all totally harmless words.

Then again, maybe he’d said hacked, she thought as a teensy little feeling of paranoia wedged its way under her skin. Or smacked. Or even hijacked. Which weren’t so harmless words.

Her world went a little fuzzy, and she had to sit down. Which—hey, whattaya know—gave her a really great seat for eavesdropping on the rest of his conversation.

“Hey, I know what I’m being paid to do, and I’ll do it.”

Jack wasn’t a Mob hit man turned Mob informant. He was a Mob hit man period!