Maggie Lee (Book 22): The Hitwoman Goes To Prison

by Lynn, JB

  12

  I awoke to the sound of a freight train rumbling past, so close that I thought the noise was going to blow out my eardrum.

  I sat up, startled. I was nowhere near railway tracks, I was in my bed, at Herschel’s compound. There was no train nearby. The loud rumbling was Matilda, who was snoring.

  “Hey,” I said, poking her stomach with my finger.

  The pig snorted and opened her eyes.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked. She’d been given very specific instructions to spend the night outside.

  “No barnyard animals allowed inside,” God bellowed from the shadows. “It’s bad enough we’ve got the dog, cat, and lab rat in here.”

  “Mouse! Mouse! Mouse!” Benny squeaked indignantly.

  “And it’s not his fault he was experimented on,” Piss added, coming to her little friend’s defense.

  Groaning, I held my head and asked the pig, “See what you started?”

  “I was lonely,” she said.

  “My took space did she,” DeeDee whined pitifully from the end of the bed.

  “Did you take DeeDee’s space?” I asked the pig.

  “I wanted to be close to you,” the pig said defensively. “I was in an unfamiliar place.”

  “She still hasn’t explained how she got in here,” God called from his temporary glass fishbowl home.

  I gave the pig a stern look. “How did you get in here?”

  “Through the door,” she said.

  “How did you open the door?” I asked suspiciously.

  “She means my door, Sugar,” Piss purred, emerging from underneath the bed and stretching luxuriously. “She used the cat door.”

  I squinted at the portly pig. “You fit through there?”

  “The more salient point,” God said, “is that she wasn’t supposed to be in here at all. Farmyard animals are supposed to remain in the farmyard.”

  “I don’t like him,” Matilda declared.

  “Nobody really does,” Piss murmured.

  “Do I,” DeeDee whined.

  I admired her loyalty to the lizard, considering how often he ridiculed her.

  “I was here first,” God bellowed. “It’s not my fault that she decided to take in every other creature that crosses her path.”

  “Two,” DeeDee barked.

  “Yes,” God agreed. “You are number two. In more ways than one.”

  “Guys,” I sighed, tiredly dragging myself out of the bed. “Can we please just not bicker before I’ve had my coffee?”

  “Gotta! Gotta! Gotta!” DeeDee whined, trotting up to the bedroom door, waiting for me to open it.

  “Who closed the door?” I asked.

  “Templeton,” Piss replied. “He stuck his head in, saw that you were still sleeping, and closed it. He’s a nicer man than most in this house realize.”

  I opened the door and let DeeDee run through the house. “Tell Herschel to let you out,” I called out to her as she disappeared out of sight.

  Matilda oinked and raced after her.

  I turned back to the rest of the menagerie in the room. “You didn’t tell us what happened last night,” Piss said. “With my Zeke.”

  “Your Zeke,” God said, snapping his tail in irritation, “was not helpful. He didn’t tell Maggie anything useful about Darlene.”

  “That’s true,” I said, pulling on a change of clothes. “He said the less I knew, the better off I’d be.”

  “We’re no closer to figuring out how to keep Katie here,” God told the cat.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Piss asked, winding her way around my ankles.

  I shrugged. “This morning, this morning I’ve got to go give a man his kiwis.”

  “You’re taking better care of Boy than you are of Katie,” God accused.

  “I’m trying to take care of them both,” I said tiredly.

  The lizard twitched his tail. “I want to go along today.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t. If I try to sneak you into the prison and get caught, the whole plan will fall apart.”

  “I don’t want to enter the world of convicts. I want to stay in the car and do some clandestine snooping.”

  “In the car?” Piss mocked.

  “There’s a good chance your Zeke will make a phone call while waiting and reveal important information,” God declared haughtily. “I’ll be like a high-tech wiretap.”

  Piss squinted her good eye at him. “You’re a living being. By definition, you’re no-tech.”

  There was a crash in the general direction of the kitchen. Concerned, I left them to argue it out in the room and hurried down the hall to see what kind of trouble DeeDee had gotten herself into. It wasn’t the dog that had made a mess, or the pig, it was my aunt.

  Aunt Leslie was standing on a kitchen chair, hands clasped to her chest, a horrified expression on her face. “Look out, Maggie!” she warned. “It’s a feral boar!”

  Matilda ignored her, jockeying with DeeDee for position to gobble up the plate of scrambled eggs that Leslie had dropped on the floor.

  “She’s not a boar.” Herschel walked in and surveyed the chaos. “I see you’re making yourself at home, Matilda,” he said dryly.

  “Daddy!” Leslie cried. “It’s ferocious.”

  Herschel shook his head and calmly poured himself a coffee. “The only thing ferocious about that pig is her appetite.”

  He handed the cup of coffee to me. “You look like you need this more than I do.”

  I nodded my gratitude.

  “Get down off that chair, Leslie,” Herschel ordered. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

  “She ate my breakfast,” Leslie pouted.

  “You shouldn’t have put it on the floor,” Herschel replied.

  “I didn’t put it on the floor, she scared me, and I dropped it,” Leslie explained.

  “Food on the floor is fair game,” Herschel said. “I’ll make you some more eggs.”

  I didn’t even bother to berate Matilda, I just grabbed my coffee and walked out the door. There was only so much I could take. I was already stretched thin, between worrying about Darlene taking Katie, my upcoming bribery of Boscov for Ms. Whitehat, and needing to find the skull to keep Delveccio happy. I walked outside and made my way toward the barn where Irma was housed. I was halfway there when he stopped me.

  “She’s packing,” Mike cawed from a branch above.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  The crow fluttered to the ground at my feet. “I’m sure,” he said. “What are you going to do? You can’t let her take our Katie.”

  I nodded. “I know.”

  “I could claw her eyes out,” Mike offered, “that would keep her from going anywhere.”

  “You are not going to use violence against my sister,” I told him sternly.

  He spread his wings in a move that looked suspiciously like a shrug. “Are you?” he asked.

  I really hoped it wasn’t going to come to that. I may be a part-time assassin, but I have no stomach for violence.

  13

  Zeke and I rode to the prison in silence, except for a short conversation we had about the car.

  “New wheels,” I said as I climbed into the vehicle.

  He gave me a side-eyed look. “Well, it wasn’t as though I could turn up in the same car we stole the pig in yesterday. Someone would recognize it. Someone could still recognize you. If something goes wrong while you’re inside, you’re on your own.”

  His irritation was evident, my nerves were stretched thin, and that was it for small talk.

  I didn’t have to tell him that I’d forgotten to buy kiwis because there was a bag of them on my seat that I’d had to pick up when I got in. Knowing he’d anticipated my failure to keep up my end of the transaction, I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful or annoyed. Obviously, he’d understood I was upset about Katie and that fruit was low on my To Do list, which I knew I should appreciate, but it was embarrassing to know my shortcoming had been
so easily anticipated.

  There was also an envelope full of cash.

  I wanted to count it, to see what it cost to bribe a prison guard, but I didn’t dare. I just tapped it nervously against my knee for the entire ride.

  I knew that it was irritating Zeke because he kept glancing over at me, but I didn’t stop. Once again, he stayed in the parking lot while I went inside the building with the dangerous criminals. It seemed like a very unfair arrangement, but I was sure he had his reasons for doing what he was doing. No doubt, he was following Whitehat’s orders.

  I checked in through the first round of security without an issue.

  It was when I ran into the second set of guards that things started to go sideways.

  “It’s the pig thief,” the taller uniformed man said.

  I blinked. It was the creep who’d wanted to barbecue poor Matilda.

  I had no idea what to say in response. It wasn’t as though I could admit to stealing his pig.

  Crossing his arms, he said, “We were supposed to have a feast yesterday. Pig on a spit.” He glared at me, letting me know I’d deprived him of his meal.

  Not trusting myself to speak, I just stared back.

  His partner elbowed him in the ribs. “She’s buying you dinner.”

  The former pig owner blinked, surprised. “She’s the one with the cash?”

  His partner held out his hand expectantly, and I handed him the bag of kiwis. He glanced inside and said, “Most expensive fruit on the planet.” He held out his hand again and I gave him the envelope.

  “Wait here,” he said. He and his partner left the room, leaving me to stare out the window covered with wire. I tried to spot Zeke’s car in the lot but couldn’t. That didn’t mean he wasn’t there, it just meant I couldn’t see him. At least, that’s what I told myself. Despite what he’d said about me being here on my own, he wouldn’t leave me here, all alone at the prison. The back of my neck prickled as I got the impression somebody was watching me.

  I slowly swung my gaze around the room until I focused on the security camera. I knew that whoever was on the other end of the feed was focused on me.

  I gulped and tried to ignore the panic that was starting to claw at my stomach. Something about this just didn’t feel right. Not that being in a prison ever feels right, but I’d done it enough times that it should have been old hat. But here I was, breaking out into a nervous sweat. I didn’t know why.

  Maybe I’m psychic, too, because at that moment, an alarm began to blare.

  The moment the alarm went off, doors began to slam. I jumped out of my seat, lunging for the waiting room door, but it was already locked. Icy panic choked off my ability to breathe.

  I was trapped in a prison, and something was going very wrong.

  I forced myself to remember to breathe. I exhaled for a count of three before sucking in a gulp of air. There was nothing for me to do but wait. Sinking into the nearest chair, I did my best to look relaxed, and waited, making a point to not even glance at the camera.

  I wouldn’t give them a close-up of my terror.

  They left me in that room for almost two hours. I thought that they’d forgotten me, and was about at the end of my rope, ready to start smashing things and screaming for release, when the door clicked open.

  “It’s about time,” I told Matilda’s would-be barbecue-er, with as much bravado as I could muster.

  He glanced around nervously, acting weird.

  “I’ve got to pee,” I told him. Waiting all this time had made me nervous. There was no way I was meeting with Boscov and listening to him extoll the virtues of fruit without emptying my bladder first.

  He thrust the envelope of cash at me.

  I blinked, confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Take it.” His eyes were wild.

  “We had a deal,” I reminded him, thinking that if Zeke had come inside none of this would have happened.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want a part of this,” he whispered.

  “A part of what?” I whispered back.

  He leaned back and looked me in the eye. “Boscov is dead. Brownings, too.”

  I gasped. “Who’s Brownings?”

  “The guy you gave that to,” Matilda’s former owner said. “Like I said, I’m not a part of this. I didn’t make the deal. I’m giving you back your cash. I just want out.”

  “That makes two of us,” I told him. If bad things happen in threes, I didn’t want to be the third person to end up dead.

  He stepped aside and ushered me out of the building.

  “Tell them I wasn’t part of it,” he pled before going back inside.

  I shielded my eyes against the sun, trying to see Zeke’s car in the lot. He pulled up to me. “What the hell happened?” he asked, leaning across to open the door for me.

  “Boscov’s dead,” I told him, collapsing weakly into the passenger seat.

  “Did you kill him?” Zeke asked.

  Surprised, shocked even, by the question, I turned to stare at him.

  “Cue her misplaced moral outrage,” God mocked.

  Having forgotten he was there, I jerked in my seat, digging the seatbelt into my shoulder.

  Zeke looked around for the squeaking noise.

  Not wanting him to realize I’d left the lizard in the car, I muttered, “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Of course, you didn’t kill him.” Focusing his attention out the window, he said softly, “I don’t even know why I asked that.”

  I stared at him for a long moment, wondering what he knew about me. What had Whitehat told him?

  “Apparently, a guard was killed, too,” I told him as we cleared the prison grounds.

  “This is not good,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I know that,” I told him. “I just don’t know what happened.”

  “This must be bigger than anybody realized,” he said. “You could be in real danger.”

  “Honestly? That’s not unusual for me.”

  14

  I swung my gaze around the parking lot. “Can we please get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps right now.”

  “This place always gives me the creeps,” Zeke muttered, putting the car into gear and driving. “What happened? Did he kill the guard then kill himself?”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know.”

  Zeke arched his eyebrows, signaling his disbelief. “Well, that’s bad timing.”

  “And that’s the understatement of the year,” I told him.

  “He gave me back the money,” I confided. The weight of the envelope was burning a hole in my jeans, branding me as semi-responsible for Boscov’s death. I tossed the cash onto the dashboard.

  “Boscov gave you the money back?” he asked.

  “I never saw him,” I said. “The guard gave me the money back after Boscov was killed.”

  Zeke let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is not good.”

  I nodded my agreement, staring out the window and wondering what happens next. We rode in silence for a few miles and then Zeke pulled off the road. “I’ve got to make a call,” he said. “Wait here.”

  He leapt out of the car, slamming the door shut so I couldn’t hear his end of the conversation, and stalked away.

  “Who do you think he’s calling? I think he’s calling Whitehat,” God said, scurrying up my arm to perch on my shoulder.

  I nodded. That made sense. I’d screwed up. He no doubt had to report me.

  A niggle of fear scratched between my shoulder blades. I watched Zeke out of the window, taking in the tension in his body language as he spoke and then listened for a long period of time. His jaw tight, his eyes narrowed, and he looked as though he would rather be in the middle of the Sahara than on the other end of that conversation.

  I glanced sideways at the lizard, who was watching Zeke carefully. I didn’t want to ask him out loud if he’d overheard anything Zeke had said, just in case Zeke was right and his car was bugged. Things were
already pretty messed up, I didn’t need anyone hearing me “talk to myself”.

  The lizard, picking up on my unasked question, knowing that nobody else could understand him, began to fill me in. “He got a call,” he started slowly.

  I waited patiently, keeping my focus on Zeke, while the lizard told his tale.

  “It was Darlene.”

  I jerked my head in the lizard’s direction, my eyes widening, wondering why my sister had called him.

  “She said she’s leaving town,” God said. “Told him she had unfinished business to take care of.”

  I frowned. “That’s not what she told me.”

  “Perhaps she isn’t the most forthcoming member of your family,” he chided gently.

  “Secrets,” I sighed. “It’s always secrets that wreck everything. Did she say what her unfinished business is?”

  “She thinks you could be a problem,” God said quietly.

  He didn’t get a chance to elaborate because Zeke returned to the car, practically reverberating with tension. “We have to make a stop,” my old friend said.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Zeke said quietly. “It’s not about the location.”

  “Whitehat’s angry?” I asked, glancing at the car’s stereo system.

  Zeke started the car again. “Let’s just say she’s not pleased.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I said defensively, making my case both to him and whoever could be listening in. “I wasn’t even there when it happened.”

  Zeke nodded but didn’t say anything else. He drove for fifteen minutes, and then pulled in to the parking lot of a local park.

  As I reached for the handle of my door, he grabbed my left knee. “It’ll be okay, Maggie, we’ll figure this out.”

  I gave him a weak smile, grateful for his support but unsure of how realistic it was.

  I got out of the car and began walking down the path, in search of Ms. Whitehat.

  I found her a hundred yards down, staring into space. She looked out of place in nature, wearing her ivory linen suit. She was better outfitted for a boardroom than a playground.

  She tilted her head in my direction. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?” A mixture of disdain and curiosity warred in her voice.