by JB Lynn
“One. Two. Three,” Griswald counted slowly.
When he reached three, they both spat out a word simultaneously.
Patrick said, “Drugs.”
Griswald said, “Child.”
Patrick hung his head and let out a long sigh.
“Oh, I know this one,” God remarked quietly enough that the others couldn’t hear him. “It’s like rock, paper, scissors. I’m assuming from your murder mentor’s reaction that child beats drugs.”
“Fine,” Patrick said, raising his head. He swiveled his gaze over to me. “But you have to do exactly what I say at all times. Understand?”
Gulping nervously, I nodded.
“Be at work at noon tomorrow,” Patrick told me. He gave a short nod to Griswald and began to stride off.
The Marshal flashed a satisfied grin. “That went well.”
I nodded slowly. I guess it had, but I wasn’t sure it was the best solution for me.
“He didn’t feed the beast!” God celebrated.
Suddenly, Patrick stopped and turned around. “DeeDee, catch!”
He tossed something in our direction. As a small stick hurtled through the air, I slackened my hold on the dog’s leash so that she could catch it.
She leapt upward and caught it between her teeth.
“Good dog,” I told her, impressed by her agility.
She gobbled down the stick.
“Don’t eat—” I began, but it was too late.
She’d already swallowed it.
She licked her lips. “For beef thanks the Patrick jerky!” she barked.
He waved as though he’d understood and continued moving away.
“He fed her,” God sighed unhappily.
I sighed, too. I was craving olives. That’s never the wisest choice.
12
After we’d gotten back into my car, but before I drove us home, Griswald pulled out his phone.
“Now that we know we’re a go, let me show you our targets. Phillip and Alicia.”
He held it out so that I could see the photograph displayed.
I winced as I looked at the picture of the father and daughter.
“What?” Griswald asked suspiciously.
“I wish I’d known,” I muttered.
“Known what?”
“That it was him we’re looking for.” I pointed at the phone. “I met him today when I went for the interview.”
“Great!”
The pleased look on his face made me want to jump out of the car. Instead, I shook my head.
“It’s not great?” Griswald looked confused.
I pointed to the stain on my jeans. “His kid ran into me with her ice cream cone and he wanted to get my number…and…and…”
“You blew him off without a second thought,” God supplied from where he sulked in my bra.
Griswald’s eyes widened at the squeaking. “And?”
“I…uh…I was there for work, so I wasn’t about to give a random guy my number,” I finished with a hint of pride. I thought that was a pretty good save considering it looked like I’d messed up my chance at getting close to the kid.
“How could you…why would you?” Griswald spluttered.
“Working,” I reminded him. “And besides, the guy was just a tad too smooth.”
Griswald nodded slowly. “Think you can redeem yourself?”
“Technically, I did nothing wrong.” I hated sounding defensive, but Griswald had been the one to keep me in the dark. There was no way I was taking responsibility for this misstep. Don’t get me wrong, I make a lot of mistakes, but I really didn’t think this one was mine to own.
My boss scowled. “Can you get back into Phillip’s good graces?”
“Probably.”
His eyebrows raised in irritation and he leveled a look at me. “What do you think the probability is when you take into account a little girl’s life hangs in the balance?”
I stared out the windshield, across the parking lot, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t include seducing a rapist. So far, this kinda-legit job was not working out as I’d been led to believe it would.
“What if Loretta helps you?” Griswald suggested.
“Oh, no,” I said quickly. There was no way Aunt Loretta could ever pull off any kind of undercover assignment…unless it was under the bedcovers. “Are you crazy?”
“I meant in terms of helping you with an enticing outfit. I mean, if the guy hit on you when you were wearing that…” He waved his hand at my less-than-sex-kittenish ensemble of jeans, now stained, and an oversized Insuring the Future t-shirt.
“Well, tomorrow I have to wear the game center’s bright orange t-shirt,” I snapped. “Trust me, it won’t look any more appealing.”
“It would if you got a size too small,” Griswald said. “And if Loretta helped you…” He trailed off and looked out his side window, realizing he’d overstepped. “Or not…” he finished quietly.
“I’m not taking you to The Corset with me,” I said, starting the car.
“Me about what?” DeeDee barked from the backseat.
“Not you, either,” I muttered, throwing the car into gear.
“But I’m going,” God declared. “Otherwise, you’ll choose something with scratchy lace that will irritate my sensitive skin.”
I didn’t answer him. I just drove. Maybe over the speed limit because I was so irritated by the whole thing.
“Thank you, Maggie,” Griswald said quietly. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation. I appreciate your sacrifice.”
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the kid.”
He nodded and was silent for the rest of the way home.
As soon as I pulled into the driveway, I threw it into park and waited for him to get out. I didn’t want to be seen by anyone in the house or barn. “I’m not going to be home for dinner.”
Griswald climbed out and opened the back door for DeeDee, who promptly raced toward the house, probably hoping to be fed again.
Griswald leaned down to look at me. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know.” Except I couldn’t let a kid be separated from her mother.
He pursed his lips, seeming to search for what to say next.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry about it. This will give me another chance to talk to Aunt Loretta about the dancers. Maybe that’s the silver lining.”
Griswald raised his eyebrows. “Do you believe in silver linings?”
“I do. It’s just that sometimes you need the light to be shining just the right way in order to see them.”
“That’s my girl.” Griswald grinned and closed the car doors. With a wave, he headed toward the house. I turned around and headed toward the lingerie shop.
Since it was close to closing time, there were no dancers flaunting their wares in front of it. At least I had that going in my favor.
When I’d been in the parking lot for a few minutes, God scrambled up onto my shoulder. “You know you actually have to go inside the store, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“Then what are you doing sitting here?”
“Trying to come up with an alternative,” I admitted. I could use an alternative to going into the store. I’d really like an alternative to trying to seduce my target, considering that I’d be enticing a known rapist.
I pulled out my phone and the business card the drag queen had given me and dialed the number.
“Queen Cleo,” a deep voice answered.
“Uh, hi,” I began awkwardly. “We met at The Corset and you gave me your card.”
“I remember you, honey. You were the one trying to convince Loretta to dump those low rent pirouette-pulling skanks.”
“Uh huh,” I replied weakly.
“Well, honey, I want to offer you an alternative,” Cleo boomed.
“I’m listening.” I gripped the phone tightly, watching a pair of women emerge from the shop, giggling.
“Soulful and
Sinful serenading.”
“Soulful and Sinful?” I parroted.
“You bet. Who doesn’t like to listen to live music? My partner and I are a dynamic duo. Why, we’re better than Batman and Robin, peanut butter and jelly, Milli Vanilli and Sonny and Cher combined.”
I sat in stunned silence trying to imagine a combination of superheroes, food, lip syncers, and “I Got You Babe.”
“People love us,” Cleo continued. “We’re quick and clever queens who can belt out the classics and put a naughty twist on them.”
“How naughty?” I asked weakly.
“Classy naughty with a wink-wink, not cheap and tawdry.”
“It is kind of a sex shop,” I reminded Cleo.
“You don’t sell the sex, sweetie. You’re selling the sizzle.”
“It’s my aunt’s shop, so it’s not up to me,” I said. “But maybe you’d meet with my friend who’s a partner in the shop. Tell her what you’re all about.”
“Name the time and the place and Soulful and Sinful will be there. And tell me, honey, what’s your name?”
“Maggie, Maggie Lee.”
“Kinda like Bond, James Bond?” Cleo chortled before hanging up.
“Well, that went well,” I murmured, gathering the strength to go into The Corset.
“You really think Susan is going to approve of singing drag queens?”
“Probably not, but even she’ll have to admit that they’re better than low rent pirouette-pulling skanks,” I chuckled, climbing out of the car. “Now, we dive into danger.”
“You’re on your own,” God said, scurrying to take a position on the dashboard.
“You’re abandoning me? I thought you were worried about lace.”
“I’m more concerned about inhaling noxious fumes. I’m sitting this one out.”
I only wished I could sit this one out, too.
13
“And you should do something with your hair,” Loretta said, grabbing a chunk and giving it a tug.
“Ow!” I slapped her hand away. It stirred childhood memories of Aunt Susan relentlessly brushing it to get rid of snarls, despite my tears and pleas to stop. “My hair is fine.”
She’d already outfitted me with a pair of bras that were designed to severely limit my oxygen intake while hoisting my breasts to just under my chin. One was black with red straps. The other was blood red. Both were the equivalent of modern day torture devices.
She’d tried to get me into the coordinating bedazzled thongs, but that wasn’t happening. I’d wear the bras to get the attention of my mark, that was part of the job, but he wasn’t getting into my pants, so I refused to subject myself to the coordinating torture.
I moved away from my aunt, afraid she’d lop off some of my hair. She’d already cut the strap of my regular bra, which was forcing me to wear the red one out of the store.
And I hadn’t even made the Soulful and Sinful suggestion.
“Glitter!” Loretta declared.
Before I knew what was happening, a stream of something came at me. Instinctively, I closed my eyes and tried to duck, but I wasn’t quick enough. It hit me square in the face.
“Aaaaah!” I screamed. “What did you do to me?”
“Oh, quit it,” she replied calmly. “Everyone looks better with unicorn glitter.”
I tried to brush it off my face. “You could have blinded me.”
“Well, if you hadn’t moved, it would have ended up in your hair.”
“I don’t want glitter in my hair,” I muttered.
“Trust me,” Loretta said with a knowing smile. “Angel will love it.”
I swallowed nervously and looked away. When I’d strolled into the shop and she’d looked so annoyed that I was bothering her again, I’d blurted out that I wanted to attract a man I’d rejected and needed her help. She’d assumed that man was Angel Delveccio. I hadn’t corrected her.
“I know you’re worried, Maggie,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder, “but trust me, no man will be immune to your charms in this get up. Especially when you use this.” She picked up a small glass bottle and handed it to me.
“What is it?” I asked suspiciously.
“Milkshake.”
I eyed the thin golden liquid. “It doesn’t look like a milkshake.”
“Fine, it’s sex chemicals!” Loretta cooed, fanning herself.
“I don’t want any chemical enhancement,” I said, shoving the bottle back at her.
Instead of taking it, she waved a hand in the air. “Oh relax, silly, it’s just pheromone perfume.”
I frowned, thinking that was the very definition of sex chemicals.
Seeing my distrust, she finally took the bottle. And sprayed it right at me.
I choked and spluttered as a cloud of sweet noxious fumes filled the air. “Is that what you wear?”
“Yes. How else do you think I keep Templeton chasing after me?”
I didn’t point out that Templeton seemed to have his own game running and that I hadn’t seen him remotely interested in chasing after her for a while now.
“Now we need to give you some vampy lips.” Loretta rubbed her hands together gleefully.
“Maybe next time,” I lied as a last-minute customer strolled into the shop.
Grabbing my black bra, not even bothering to put it into a bag, I practically ran out of the store. I’d almost reached my car when I saw him.
“Of course,” I muttered to myself.
Gino pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. He grinned widely as he took in the sexy black number. “You have time to scout a site out?”
I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to go home and take a shower so that I no longer smelled like Milkshake. I also knew that the sooner we solved the missing Skee-Ball dilemma, the quicker I’d have one less thing to worry about. I desperately needed to simplify my life.
“Park at the car wash around the corner,” he instructed. “I’ll pick you up there.” He quickly drove away.
Sighing, I climbed into my car.
“What did he—?” God began before interrupting himself by sticking out his tongue and blowing, making a raspberry sound. “What? What is that overpowering malodor?”
“Milkshake,” I explained. “Pheromones.”
“Pheromones attract,” he lectured. “You’re just repulsive.”
I couldn’t argue with him. All I could do was roll down the windows so neither of us would suffocate. “I need to go check something out with Gino.”
“I’m not going,” the lizard announced as I started the car.
“Fine,” I agreed, too tired to argue with him.
“What are you checking out?” he asked as I drove toward the car wash.
“I don’t know. He said a site.”
“Probably the new home of the Skee-Ball.”
“Probably.”
“Well,” he declared, “I can’t let you go there alone.”
I felt a surge of relief. He can be a pain, but he’s good to have around. “Thanks, but you can’t be complaining about the smell.”
“Well, I’m not going into ground zero,” he countered. “Even if I could breathe, I’d no doubt have an allergic reaction, break out in hives, my throat would close, I—”
“I guess you stay on my shoulder,” I interrupted before he worked his way into full blown hysteria.
“Are you trying to kill me? What if the fumes rise?” he shouted. “I want to stay on the dashboard.”
“We’re not taking my car,” I told him, squeezing the steering wheel instead of his little neck.
“Then I’ll ride on Gino’s dashboard.”
I sighed. “Fine. As long as Gino’s okay with it, you hang out on the dashboard.”
“And why are you shiny?” the lizard wanted to know as I parked next to the bodyguard’s car.
“Glitter.”
“Glitter is an irritant. Do you know what that means?”
“I’m very familiar with what that means,” I drawl
ed sarcastically as I scooped him up and got out of my car.
“It could damage my sensitive skin.”
“You said you’d be quiet,” I reminded him as Gino leaned across his car and opened the passenger door for me.
His gaze swept slowly down my body and I felt my cheeks growing warm.
“I need a favor,” I told him before getting in the car.
“If that’s the look you’re rocking, you can ask me anything,” he replied, not bothering to hide an amused grin.
I swallowed hard, not sure if he was flirting or just making fun. “Can my lizard ride on your dashboard?”
Gino let out a booming laugh. “You are always unexpected, Maggie.” He waved me inside. “Sure, put the little squeaker on the dash.”
“I do not squeak!” God squeaked as I climbed in and placed him in his preferred waiting place.
If the man beside me noticed the stench of Milkshake, he didn’t comment on it. “Buckle up, sweetheart. It’s time for our adventure.”
14
Gino kept stealing sidelong looks at my enhanced profile as he drove. I wasn’t sure if I was flattered or annoyed by his attention.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To check out the house that we have to break into.”
“Does it have a lot of security?”
“Some,” he replied, taking a turn too tightly.
This caused God to slide across the dashboard. “Aaaah! Save me!”
Gino chuckled. “So tell me…is he your good luck charm? Is that why you bring him everywhere?”
“Sorta,” I answered. The reply was out of my mouth before I gave a moment’s thought to what the repercussions would be.
“Did you just call me a good luck charm?” God bellowed.
I flinched at the outrage in his voice.
“Pretty loud for a squeaker,” Gino remarked.
“I don’t squeak!” the lizard claimed. “I am not a good luck charm and I do not squeak!”
I closed my eyes, knowing that this was going to be a long night.
“You okay?” Gino asked worriedly.
It was nice to know he looked up as high as my face. “I’m fine.”