There wasn’t enough time for the shower to be anything but business. That didn’t make it short. If anything, the date lent the shower importance it didn’t usually carry. Her targets had far more to worry about than if she stunk or not. When she was done her olive skin glowed. A single ringlet hung off the right side of her temple, with the rest of her straight brown hair done up to expose a slender neck and the curve of her ears.

Once she was satisfied that she looked flawless, she turned to the implements of her profession. One by one she examined her weapons and stuffed them into a Tignanello handbag smaller than a paperback book. Two credit cards with edges sharper than razor blades doubled as knives. The cosmetic box held a small jar of facial powder that was in actuality a lethal dose of potassium chloride. Furthermore, the walls of the jar itself contained a severe irritant.

Jacqueline assumed that one of Salazar’s chauffers would be sent to pick her up at six forty. By six thirty-six, she was ready.