Keeping with Killers (The Salingers Book 1) by Adam Nicholls

aware of the consequences if he failed to deliver and, as soon as he realised his payments would fall short, he bottled it and tried running to the police. The poor kid had no idea that eighty percent of the police force were dirty, and the other twenty percent weren't important enough to do anything about it.
    'She's looking right at us,' the driver informed him.
    Pimms peered over the seat. The driver was right; she looked full of fear, like a puppy when pitted against a bigger dog. But still, she wouldn't run. He drew his firearm, a Glock 42 with a suppressor to muffle the gunshot. 'Go!' he called to the driver. The limo shot forward, its engine roared in the way that modern cars do. The woman was right outside the door, and Pimms flung it open. 'Get in.'
    The woman, whose name had been given to them as Rachel, gaze a puzzled look; one that said should I run? Her knee even lifted a little as if ready to make a bolt for it. She hesitated, put it back down, and then climbed into the limo, her eyes trained on the gun.
    'If you're trying to steal some money, I could use some too,' she said as if she had done this before. Not a wisp of fear, but the paranoia lingered in her eyes. She sat across from him.
    'Please. Does it look like we need your money?' Pimms closed the door and they were driven off in a seemingly random direction. 'Miss Lawrence, I'm going to lower this gun and we're going to talk. If you try to run, you will not get very far. Do you understand?'
    Rachel nodded, every muscle in her body clearly tensed.
    Pimms rested the gun across his lap, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and lowered his voice to a whisper. 'We need to get in contact with Mister Blake Salinger. Do you know where we might find him?'
    Her eyes suddenly widened. She opened her mouth as if to speak, closed it and paused for consideration. When she tried again: 'He was arrested only yesterday. We haven't heard from him since.'
    ' We? '
    'The work force. You knew my acquaintances and where I live. I wouldn't dither to believe that you're aware that Blake is my colleague. If we're going to talk, please don't insult my intelligence.'
    Pimms laughed and sat back in the seat, slapping his knee with amusement. 'I like this girl,' he called to the driver, who made pig-like noises from the front seat. 'She's got balls.'
    'Well, one of us has to,' she said, antagonising him.
    His smiled dropped, just like that. It was like a wave of anger wiped it clean off his face. 'Miss Lawrence, I can only be nice for as long as you are behaving yourself. Now, you must have heard about Mister Salinger's escape from custody. In the very least, news of the trouble he caused through London came your way?'
    Rachel's mouth hung open, but her eyes read different from the rest of her face. 'I…' It was difficult to determine how much of this was show and how much was a part of her performance. She was, after all, a salesperson, so her acting skills must have been on par.
    'Well?'
    'I didn't know–'
    Pimms lifted the gun, squeezed the trigger. A whimpering sound flew from the barrel and a loud pop went through the woman's handbag, startling her and making her lip tremble.
    'You're his colleague, his best friend, and his next of kin. The police would have come straight to you even without our say-so.' He lurched forward and crossed the limo to sit next to her. He put a hand on her knee and then quickly retracted it. He didn't want her to think this was personal.
    'I'm sorry,' she said, realising his position of power.
    'That's a start. The sooner you stop playing games, the sooner we can let you go. Now, tell me, how is your mother doing?' The worry in her eyes made him feel all the more in control. He had read about the old bag's condition at the hospital, just as he knew that Rachel paid a visit to her every other day. With that information, she was putty in his hands.
    'You wouldn't–'
    'You have no idea what I would do. But I can assure you this: if you