Clawback by J.A. Jance Page B

He’d been warned before he’d hired her that underneath that helpless-blond-bimbo façade lurked a vicious attack dog, but this was more than Jason had bargained for—way more.
    He watched as she walked over to one of the bodies and placed the weapon she’d used—a handgun of some kind—in the hand of one of the dead men—the Hispanic one—before pulling his fist closed around the handle. After peering briefly into the parked pickup truck, she turned and walked back toward Jason, nonchalantly peeling off a pair of latex gloves as she did so.
    â€œI told them to make it look like a burglary,” she said. “Looks like they got that right. There’s quite a haul in the back of that crew cab.”
    Overcoming his initial shock, Jason finally found his voice. “Did you have to do that right here and right now?” he demanded.
    Jessica glanced around at the empty gravel pit and then shrugged. “Seems like as good a place as any,” she observed. “Besides, letting them go didn’t seem like an option. Neither did paying them. Isn’t that what you meant by the word ‘expendable’?”
    â€œYes, but . . .”
    â€œBut nothing,” she said. “Now come on. We need to get the hell out of here.”
    The wheelchair had been intended as nothing more than a disguise, but right that moment, Jason doubted his ability to stand on his own. He sat there, unable to tear his eyes away from the two fallen victims.
    â€œShouldn’t we bury them or something?” he asked. “And when they’re found out here in the open like this, won’t the trail lead right back to us?”
    â€œNo,” Jessica said. “It won’t. That trail will lead right back to Dan Frazier and nobody else. I used Dan’s .38, by the way. It’ll have his DNA and fingerprints on it, and now it has Alberto’s. There’s nothing out there in the electronic world that links you and me to them—no e-mails, no texts, no cell phone calls or GPS trails, either. As far as the authorities are concerned, your phone went dark last weekend somewhere in Mexico City. Mine’s at home in Phoenix. What that means in law enforcement terms is that we’re not here.”
    â€œOkay, then,” Jason said, feeling somewhat reassured.
    He got out of the chair and reentered the van, leaving Jessie to load both the chair and lift back into the van. “But are you sure they did it?” he asked, once Jessie was back behind the wheel. “They said Dan and Millie are dead, but are you sure it’s true?”
    â€œI’m sure,” Jessie replied. “I’ve been monitoring my scanner, and that’s what they’re saying. There’s all kinds of chatter about two unidentified homicide victims found in Sedona—one male and one female. There’s also word that a suspect has been taken into custody, which means the cops are looking at someone else entirely. Couldn’t be better.”
    Jessie started the van and drove out of the gravel pit the same way they had entered, leaving behind the abandoned pickup as well as two newly dead bodies.
    â€œAren’t you worried about leaving tracks?” Jason asked.
    â€œNot in the least,” Jessie answered with a confident smile. “That’s why I set the meet for here. A gravel road leading to a gravel pit means we’re leaving behind no usable tracks.”
    Jason couldn’t help being taken aback by her calm demeanor. She had just gunned down two people with what seemed like utter indifference, and now she was as calm as if it were a completely ordinary set of circumstances. Perhaps for her it was.
    Jason reached for the leather case that held his laptop. Pulling it out, he booted it up and then inserted the card. A moment later he exploded in anger. “Damn it all! The drive is empty!”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œJust what I said.