Read Online Noble Intentions: Season Three by L.T. Ryan - Free Book Online Page A

Which seemed unlikely considering
that he’d noticed every dog that stopped to piss on the fire hydrant visible in
the bottom right corner of his rear view mirror.
    The sun reflected off the vehicle’s
windshield, making it impossible for Jack to see if someone was inside. He
contemplated getting out and walking over to the car. Decided against it. Not
here, not in front of Thornton’s office building.
    Then Jack got the break he’d been
waiting for.
    He shifted his focus from the car
positioned behind him to the building. His gaze drifted from the first to the
third floor, back down, and settled on the shadowy hole where vehicles had
disappeared into and emerged from throughout the day. His focus once again
started to drift, but before the entrance to the parking level had left his
field of view, a black Bentley emerged.
    And it looked to be the same one
from the night before, outside the hotel.
    The Bentley turned left out of the
garage, drove forward, stopped at the corner twenty yards behind Jack. It made
another left and approached his position from the rear.
    Jack looked away. The windows of
the Bentley were tinted on all four sides. Staring at the car would only get
him noticed. The Bentley passed. Jack turned the key in the Fiat’s ignition. He
punched the clutch, eased his foot onto the gas, pulled away from the curb.
Shifted from first to second. He glanced up at his rear-view mirror and saw the
car that had been parked behind him all day pull away from the curb too.
    Jack paced the Bentley, staying
about thirty yards behind. He took note of the names of each street he passed,
committed them to memory. The layout of London, and most major European cities
for that matter, did not mesh logically with his brain. They spread out from
one central point with no grid to make getting from point A to point B as
simple as requiring only the cardinal directions to navigate.
    So he did his best to create a map
in his mind. If it came down to it, he knew he could switch on the cell phone’s
GPS. Although past experiences made him leery of doing so. He’d been tracked
through GPS once before and preferred not to relive the experience.
    The Bentley’s brake lights lit up
like a pair of seductive eyes, and then the sleek black vehicle pulled off to a
stop in front of a custom tailor’s shop named Federico’s . The driver’s
door opened. A man stepped out. He looked a lot like one of the men Jack had
seen in front of the hotel. The guy left his door open, took two steps toward
the rear of the car, and opened the back door. The driver looked north, south,
east, west. He lifted his sunglasses and his eyes swept side to side in huge
arcs. He said something, then the man in the back of the Bentley stepped out.
    The passenger was older. His silver
goatee was cropped as close to his face as his hair was to his head. His dark
suit told anyone within eyeshot that money would never be a hindrance. Without
a doubt, this was the man Jack had encountered in Monte Carlo. The man who’d
tried to kill Jack. This was the man who’d beaten Dottie within an inch of her
life.
    Thornton Walloway.
    Jack rolled by slowly. He used his
left hand to shield his face from view. Kept his sunglasses down to hide his
eyes. The seconds it took to pass felt like minutes. He pulled against the
opposite curb and let the Fiat idle. Using his side and rear view mirrors, he
watched Thornton step inside the tailor’s shop. The tinted glass door shut. The
driver disappeared inside the Bentley. Headlights cut into the dreary mist that
hovered over the street. The black luxury vehicle pulled away from the curb,
passed Jack, turned left at the intersection.
    “Dumb luck,” Jack muttered.
    He could end it right there. Best
case, he’d walk in and place a bullet in the center of Thornton’s forehead.
There was the possibility of accidental casualties, but Jack could live with
that. Worst case, he’d have to kill a few people in the store and then take on
the