Ty picked up the PPH and returned it to the drawer of the small end table beside his chair. This was a .38 caliber replica of James Bond’s Walther PPK, which was a .32 caliber. Ty had had the gun for many years, but only recently kept it within reach. And the more he missed Claire, the more he thought about joining her.
*
Unknown to Ty had been the cause of the blown tire eleven months earlier. For nearly an hour, a wiry, shadowy figure had been lying in wait for the approach of the bright yellow convertible. Even with the torrential downpour blurring his vision, the distinctive canary convertible was unmistakable. At the ready, he squeezed off a single shot, intending to bring the car to a stop and flush the driver out into the open. He did not expect Ty to so adeptly maneuver the crippled car nearly another half-mile. In his current position, this would still be a fairly easy hit, even in the dark of this rainy night. But, repositioning would guarantee a kill shot and with the time it takes to change a tire, there was plenty of time to relocate.
Stealthily scurrying through the woods, just off the road, the assassin found his next vantage point and dropped into position. Lifting the rifle’s scope to his eye, he heard the skidding tires of Dave Weller’s car and witnessed the violent collision. Since Dave had apparently done the deed, the shooter’s task was completed. Seeing Claire flying through the air and striking the tree on the far side of the road, he assumed Ty was in just as bad of a condition. He had not intended to kill Claire. She was collateral damage and had not been a part of his contract.