by Lynn, JB
The Hitwoman and the Exorcism
Book 23
JB Lynn
Copyright © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN AND THE EXORCISM
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman And the Exorcism is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.
© 2020 Jennifer Baum
Cover designer: Hot Damn Designs
Editor: Parisa Zolfaghari
Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish
Formatting: Leiha Mann
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Author’s Note
Also by JB Lynn
About JB Lynn
Prologue
You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you have to perform an exorcism. My name is Maggie Lee, and while I’m not proud of the fact that I’ve become a paid assassin, I’ve made peace with it. It’s not something I’m particularly cut out for, but I’m doing my best with all the help of my pets. Thankfully, I’m not alone, in that they can all talk to me. But their place in my life, and their home, is being threatened, and that’s why the exorcism needs to be done. But before I deal with that terrible spirit, I have to deal with my mom.
1
It was cold when I woke up, and it didn’t take me long to realize that there were no warm bodies pressed against me.
I felt around the bed, reaching for DeeDee, my Doberman pinscher, Piss, my one-eyed cat, or even Matilda, a pig, and the newest member of the family. None of them were there.
Alarmed, I sat up and asked, “What happened?”
God, the anole lizard who was lounging on a rock my niece Katie had found for him, flicked his tail. “They’re all with the kid, she’s the center of attention now.”
I squinted at him. He, more than anyone, had a great fondness for Katie, so I didn’t understand his annoyance. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’ve been replaced,” he said with a dramatic sigh.
“You’re irreplaceable,” I told him dryly.
“She isn’t interested in me anymore,” he said sadly. “She just wants her furry friends.”
He sounded so dejected that I felt a stab of sympathy for him. He’d been good to Katie in her darkest days and it hurt me that he was pained by her lack of interest in him.
“I’ll have a talk with her,” I promised him, slowly getting out of the bed.
“Don’t you dare,” he said proudly. “She can choose to spend her time with whoever she wants. I don’t want a pity visit.”
“Pity visit. Pity visit. Pity visit,” Benny, the mouse who resided in a tissue box at the end of the dresser, repeated.
I fought the urge to tell the little white mouse he wasn’t helping the situation. “Everyone’s just really happy that she’s back.”
Katie had lived with my sister Darlene for a while and had just recently been returned to the family fold. Everyone, pets and humans alike, were making a big fuss over her.
There was a soft knock on my door.
“Come in,” I called, wondering which of the family was there to ask me for whatever it was they needed.
The door swung slowly open, and one eye peeked inside. “Is that my baby girl?” I asked with a surge of joy.
Giggling, Katie rushed into the room and threw herself into my arms.
I scooped her up and hugged her tightly. I’d been so afraid that Darlene was going to take her away. Having her back filled me with love and joy. DeeDee, Piss, and Matilda followed her inside.
“You have to do something, sugar,” Piss meowed softly.
Still clutching Katie, I looked down at her. My niece didn’t know that I could talk to animals. Nobody in the family did, except for my grandfather and brother, so I tried not to talk to them too much in front of other humans.
“Zippy is a terror,” the cat complained. “We spent all night guarding the child from him.”
“Her guard,” the Doberman woofed softly in agreement.
“Not me,” Matilda said. “I slept like a baby.” As though wanting to reenact sleeping like a baby, the pig shuffled up toward my bed.
“Don’t,” I started to warn, but it was too late, she somehow managed to get herself up there and curl into a ball.
“Idea good,” DeeDee said, climbing onto the bed beside her.
Katie, watching the activity with wide-eyed interest, asked, “Can we take a nap, too?”
Glad for the excuse to have some snuggle time with my niece, I said, “Of course.”
I put her down, and she hopped into the bed bedside DeeDee. Once I closed the door to my room, I looked back and saw that Piss had topped off the living totem pole, perching near Katie’s shoulder. “Want to join us?” I asked the lizard, who was pretending to not watch. Instead of answering me, he turned around, putting his back to me.
Shrugging, I got down on the bed with my niece and the animals. We barely all fit, and Katie giggled with delight as everyone squirmed to accommodate me.
“Is Aunt Darlene coming back?” she asked curiously.
Darlene had disrupted everyone’s lives by packing up her family and leaving without even saying goodbye, not even to Katie. Anger at my sister surged through me, and I waited a moment to tamp it down. I only hoped Darlene’s abandonment didn’t affect Katie.
“I don’t know,” I answered Katie honestly.
“I miss her,” she said sadly.
“But there’re lots of other people here to keep you company,” I reminded her. “And you’ve got the animals.”
She nodded. “You won’t leave, will you, Aunt Maggie?”
My heart clenched at the worry in her voice.
I smoothed Katie’s bangs off her forehead and smiled warmly at her. “I will never leave you, baby girl,” I promised.
“Unless you get thrown in jail,” God opined from his rock.
Ignoring him, I snuggled closer to Katie. Within moments, she and all th
e animals had fallen asleep. I lay there, listening to their even breathing, hoping that God was wrong, and that I wouldn’t end up in jail. But it was a distinct possibility that, or worse, could happen to me. Delveccio, the mob boss, wasn’t happy at the moment.
He wanted a skull returned to him. The problem was that Zippy, my grandfather Herschel’s dog, had stolen it and buried it. No one knew where. That made the job hard enough, but I’d just found out that the skull was cursed. There was a time I could have easily said I don’t believe in curses, but now I talk to animals, I’ve dealt with a ghost, and I have a best friend who’s psychic. Plus, I kill people. Bad people, but still… My boundaries for what I believe to be possible have been stretched.
So yeah, a cursed skull doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibilities. Especially when you factor in that my dad is somehow involved in this mess.
I knew I was in for a bumpy ride, but for the moment, all I wanted to do was enjoy having my niece back in my arms and being surrounded by my pets, who love me.
“They’re not going to be able to protect her forever,” God warned from his rock. Unlike everyone else, he was also still awake.
I glanced over at him and saw that he was watching us intently.
“Katie’s in danger,” he said. “And you’re going to have to do something about it.”
2
“How long is it going to be there?” Herschel asked in an annoyed tone as he buttered his toast with undue vigor.
I glanced up at him, surprised. Usually, my grandfather, who’d recently reunited with the family, was an easygoing guy. It seemed strange that he was irritated that the camper of our visitor, RV, was parked way up near the entrance of the driveway.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
He shook his head, and I wondered if he was going to give me a deadline that she had to be out by.
“Nobody told me that she was going to be here,” he complained.
“It was a spur of the moment thing,” I explained, not for the first time. “I told you, she stopped by to see Armani.”
Piss, who’d sauntered into the kitchen where we were having our conversation, stopped and looked from one of us to the other. No doubt she could feel the tension in the room.
“I just don’t know why she needs to stay here,” Herschel complained, punctuating his words with the waving of the butter knife.
“Why? Is it a problem?” the cat asked.
I glanced at her sharply, trying to signal that she shouldn’t get involved in the conversation, but it was too late. My grandfather, like me, could understand animals.
“Because it’s my property that’s been invaded,” he snapped at my feline companion.
Being a cat, she was not impressed by his attitude. To convey her disdain for him, she lifted her paw and licked it slowly.
“You invited us,” I reminded him. “It wasn’t an invasion.”
I had to wonder how much of what was coming out of his mouth were his own ideas, and how much were things that Zippy had said. Zippy, his little white dog, was a problem for all of us. According to RV, he was possessed. And not just by any old spirit, but by that of Herschel’s ex-wife, my grandmother.
Oblivious to the tension in the room, Loretta strutted into the kitchen, on some of the highest stilettos I’d ever seen her wear. “Busy day at the shop today,” she announced, batting her false eyelashes. “I could use your help, Maggie.”
Eager for any excuse to get away from the farm and Herschel’s ire, I nodded. “What can I do?”
Normally, going to The Corset, Aunt Loretta’s lingerie shop, was not at the top of my list of fun things to do, but I was desperate.
“You can come judge,” Loretta declared.
“Judge what?” I asked, even though I knew as the words passed my lips that I wasn’t going to like her answer.
“We’re holding auditions today,” Loretta said, clapping her hands together with delight.
That explained the shoes and the amount of cleavage she had on display. She was going to have some kind of audience.
“What kind of auditions?” Herschel asked.
Shaking my head, I covered my eyes. I didn’t want to see Loretta explain this to her father.
“We’re hiring male dancers,” Loretta announced proudly.
I looked through my fingers to see that Herschel’s eyes had grown wide.
“We’re going to have them out in front of the store dancing,” Loretta explained. “You know, like those people that wear animal costumes and wave at traffic, or twirl signs around for no apparent reason.”
Considering that I never understood the appeal of the people standing on corners, whether in costume or twirling things, I didn’t think I was the best judge for this.
“Two o’clock, Maggie,” Loretta said. “Don’t be late.”
I nodded. Loretta grabbed a cup of coffee and teetered out, her heels tattooing the floor with every step that she took.
Herschel shook his head. “Sinner,” I heard him mutter under his breath
Startled, I sat up. I hadn’t heard anyone call Loretta that in a long time. The only person I knew who’d ever called her that was her mother. I peered at Herschel worriedly. Had the cursed spirit moved out of the little dog and into him? I had no idea how to even determine that.
Panic started to fill me. I could deal with the living, and I could deal with making the living dead, but I had no idea how to deal with the dead living.
Someone who had a slightly better idea than me limped into the kitchen. Armani, my best friend, tossed her hair, flashed Herschel a winning smile, and said, “Good morning.”
“Nothing good about it,” Herschel groused.
Armani raised her eyebrows and moved across the room toward the coffee pot. “That true, chica?” she asked me.
I shrugged. “Herschel’s not happy about RV being here.”
Armani poured herself a cup of coffee and then slowly turned to face the older man. “But I asked you before she got here,” she reminded him.
“I’m allowed to change my mind,” he said, crossing his arms.
She nodded slowly.
“How long is she going to be here?” Herschel asked.
“Well, she’s waiting for a bike,” Armani began.
“Bike?” I interjected curiously.
“Yeah, apparently she’s having her motorcycle repaired, and she’s waiting to pick it up.”
“Great,” Herschel complained. “Then we’ll have that motor revving all the time.”
“One,” Armani said quietly, “you haven’t heard her motor revving at all. Two, she’s not staying for a prolonged period of time.”
“Well see that she doesn’t,” Herschel said, and stalked out of the kitchen.
Armani switched her focus to me. “What’s with him?”
I shrugged and glanced around, making sure there was nobody else in the room except for Piss. “Do you think that the spirit could have moved to him?”
Armani shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s not really my expertise.”
“Maybe we should ask RV,” I suggested.
She nodded.
“What is she really doing here?” I asked.
Armani frowned. “I don’t really know. She didn’t say. She just needed a place to park while she took care of some business. But she is waiting for her bike, she told me that yesterday.”
“Well, let’s hope she takes care of it quickly.” I didn’t like the idea of Herschel being upset with us.
“But not too quickly that she leaves before we’ve taken care of our problem,” Armani said.
I didn’t tell her that, as usual, I had more than one problem. Sure, Zippy was possessed by my grandmother’s evil spirit, but I also had to find the cursed skull that Delveccio wanted back. I didn’t feel up to explaining all of that to Armani at that moment.
“Are you coming to The Corset today?” Armani asked.
“For the judging?”
She nodded excitedl
y. “Isn’t it a great idea?”
“Is it even legal to put a stripper outside of a lingerie shop?” I asked. “Aren’t there public decency laws?”
Armani giggled. “We’ll push the limits. If nothing else, even bad publicity will get us some attention.”
I frowned, not wanting to have to bail her or Aunt Loretta out of jail. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“You never have a good feeling about anything,” Armani told me.
“Have you seen my life?” I retorted sharply. I didn’t like it being implied that I was somehow negative. I thought I was being pretty realistic. Putting strippers in front of a lingerie shop seemed like an invitation to trouble. I didn’t need to invite any more trouble into my life. It let itself right on in.
3
I was heading up the driveway to talk to RV when a car came speeding toward me.
“Oh, this can’t be good,” God, who was perched on my shoulder, said. For emphasis, he dove into my bra, preferring to hide than to face the driver. My aunt’s arrival could have that kind of effect.
Matilda, who was by my side, asked, “Slaughter?”
“I hope not,” I said tiredly.
I pasted on a smile and waited as Aunt Susan got out of her car. She’d been driving awfully quickly, and it was early for her to be at the farm.
“Good morning, Margaret,” she called.
“Morning,” I replied. I had the distinct impression that Herschel was right and it wasn’t a good one.