Maggie Lee | Book 27 |The Hitwoman and the Body

by Lynn, JB

  The Hitwoman and the Body

  Book 27

  JB Lynn

  Contents

  A note

  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

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Author’s Note

  Cursed Chicks Club

  Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

  Also by JB Lynn

  About JB Lynn

  Copyright © Jennifer Baum THE HITWOMAN AND THE BODY

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by US copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  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 Body is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.

  © 2021 Jennifer Baum

  Cover designer: Hot Damn Designs

  Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish

  Formatting: Leiha Mann

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  Prologue

  You just know it’s going to be a bad day when God is preaching vengeance.

  The little brown anole lizard was pacing the length of his terrarium, ranting. “She deserves a horrible death.”

  Lying in bed, trying to catch up on rest that I desperately needed, I rolled over and covered my head with a pillow, trying to drown him out.

  “Preferably something slow and painful,” God continued.

  Giving up on the idea of more sleep, I poked my head out from beneath the pillow. “Look, I understand you’re upset but--”

  “Upset? I’m not upset. I’m enraged. I’m outraged. I’m raging!” With every description, the lizard grew louder.

  “Apparently, he’s not happy,” Piss, my one-eyed cat, purred from her spot at the foot of the bed.

  I shot her a dirty look. God was upset enough, I didn’t need her inciting him and making matters worse.

  “You need to kill her, Maggie,” God insisted.

  I didn’t disagree with him. I just wasn’t ready to do it before my morning coffee.

  1

  If I were being honest, I’d admit that I wanted to kill Daphne the Demented, too. After all, she’d tried to murder my entire family. She’d paid someone to create a carbon monoxide leak in the home where we all live. That was unacceptable. I need to figure out a way to keep my family safe.

  “Go do it today,” God urged.

  “She can’t,” Piss said, flexing her claws in his direction. “She’s going to need an alibi. That’s going to take some time to set up.”

  The cat had a point. As much as I wanted to go kill Daphne, it wouldn’t do any good for me to get myself thrown in jail because of it.

  “Ask the mobster,” God said. “I’m sure he has somebody on his staff who can provide you with an alibi.”

  “Oh, yes,” Piss murmured. “I’m sure that there’s an individual that he employs that is solely there to provide alibis.”

  “Cut it out,” I told her.

  “What about the redhead?” God asked.

  I shook my head. “Not Patrick.” The last thing I needed was my murder mentor providing an alibi for me. Our relationship was complicated enough.

  “Patrick!” DeeDee, my Doberman pinscher panted excitedly, her head popping up behind Piss at the mention of the man who almost always brought her food. “Here?”

  “Does it look like he’s here, you furry fool?” the lizard snapped.

  “Could we just hold off on the bickering until after I’ve had coffee?” I begged.

  The lizard stuck out his tongue at the dog and then turned his attention back to me. “You have to have a plan.”

  I nodded. “Finally, something we agree on.”

  “You don’t agree that she deserves to die?”

  I shook my head. “She does. She will. But I’ve got to be smart about it.”

  “I guess there’s a first time for everything,” God said snarkily.

  A knock on the door interrupted our sparring. It flew open, before I could respond.

  My friend, Armani, limped into the room. “Good morning.”

  “You’re supposed to wait, after you knock,” I told her testily. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  She scowled. “It’s not like I’m a vampire and need an invitation.”

  “Boundaries,” I snapped back. “Personal space. Ever head of those things?”

  Shaking her head, she shuffled around Matilda, the pig, who had managed to snore through the conversations with the lizard, cat and dog. Armani plopped herself down on the side of the bed, almost crushing Piss in the process.

  The cat scrambled to get out of the way.

  “Griswald wants to see you,” my human friend announced.

  My stomach clenched. I like Lawrence Griswald, Aunt Susan’s husband, but he’s also a U.S. Marshal, and we’d had our share of problems lately in terms of trusting each other. It probably wasn’t a good thing that he wanted to see me. I hoped he didn’t have any more questions about how I’d shown up to shoot the man that had been holding him captive.

  “Channel 9 news is coming,” Armani announced.

  I blinked. “Here?”

  She shook her head. “No, silly. To The Corset.”

  “You haven’t told Susan, have you?” I groaned. My aunt was not a fan of her sister’s lingerie shop that Armani was a part-owner in.

  Armani raised her eyebrows. “I haven’t told her that they’re coming,” she said carefully. “But I can’t vouch for my business partner.”

  I rolled my eyes. I doubted that Loretta, Susan’s sister, would have the sense to keep her mouth shut about this.

  “What time are they coming?” I asked.

  “Four PM,” Armani answered.

  “Like they were going to show up at 4 AM?” God muttered from his enclosure.

  “What did the little guy say?” Armani asked.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “He’s just in a mood today.”


  “I’ll second that,” Piss agreed.

  “It’s going to be great publicity,” Armani said, getting herself back on track. “We’re even going to have Soulful & Sinful there to perform.”

  “Awesome,” I said sarcastically.

  Armani frowned. “Do you think I should model some of our goods or dress as a businesswoman?” Armani asked.

  “Businesswoman,” I blurted out quickly.

  She looked at me suspiciously. “You said that pretty quickly.”

  I shrugged. “You are a businesswoman. In addition to being a co-owner of The Corset, you own your decorating business and PMS.” Personally, I thought that PMS was a terrible name for the psychic matchmaking service that she ran, but I knew it was something she was proud of.

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Businesswoman it is.”

  She pushed herself off the bed and limped back out of the room. “I don’t think it’s a

  good idea to mix business and pleasure.”

  “Your business is pleasure,” I called after her.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said mysteriously, and then left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “What do you think she meant by that?” I asked, staring at the closed door.

  “Well, she did see you with Gino,” Piss meowed.

  “But how would she know I have any kind of business relationship with him?” I asked worriedly.

  “She’s psychic,” God drawled drily. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

  “You are in a foul mood,” I told him.

  “Almost dying does that to me,” he said. “And now it’s being exacerbated by the fact that you’re not going to do anything about getting revenge.”

  “I will,” I promised. “I just need a plan.”

  “Ms. Whitehat could probably help you with that,” the lizard suggested.

  I shook my head. I didn’t particularly trust the head of the shadowy organization that I sometimes had to do work for. I really didn’t want her involved in my plot for vengeance.

  I dragged myself out of bed, taking care not to disturb the still snoring pig. I threw on some clothes, opened the door to let Piss out, and shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen. The aroma of coffee tickled my nose, and I realized that it was the simple things in life that kept me sane.

  When I walked in, the only person in the kitchen was Templeton, Loretta’s boyfriend.

  “I’m making French toast,” he said as a greeting, while simultaneously pouring me a cup of coffee. “Would you like some?”

  I nodded. “Please.”

  I hadn’t particularly liked or trusted Templeton when I first met him, but he’d grown on me. He was a member of the family now. In some ways, he was one of the saner members of my family, even though I suspected that, like me, he still dabbled in the occasional criminal enterprise.

  “Griswald is looking for you,” he said as he pulled a spatula out of the kitchen drawer.

  “So I’ve heard,” I murmured, taking that first sip of the hot brew. “He does realize it’s first thing in the morning, doesn’t he?”

  “You know those G-men,” Templeton joked. “They start the day ready to get their man.”

  I chuckled at his teasing. “Did he say what he wants?”

  Templeton shook his head. “The man likes his secrets.”

  I nodded. “Don’t we all?”

  Templeton slid me a sideways glance, and I had the distinct impression that he knew that I kept more secrets than most people in our household. Before he could say anything, Loretta, in stilettos that seemed even higher than usual, clickety-clacked into the kitchen.

  “Big day,” she trilled joyfully, her bosom practically heaving out of the lowcut sparkly shirt she’d squeezed into.

  “I heard,” I said quietly. “Does Susan need to hear, too?”

  My subtle hint that she should keep the news that her lingerie shop was going to be receiving PR from the local television station went right over her head.

  “Of course,” she said with a big smile. “Everyone needs to watch.”

  I watched as Templeton’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

  “It’s going to be a great day,” Loretta declared.

  “Uh huh,” I muttered. I didn’t actually believe that.

  2

  “You’re all dolled up,” Templeton said, giving Loretta the once over.

  “I’m surprised you even noticed,” she sniffed.

  To me, she looked the same as always. Her clothes were too tight, too short, and she reeked of a sweet perfume that made me want to retch. Also, as usual, her fake eyelashes reminded me of dangling spiders.

  “There you are,” Griswald boomed, striding into the room. For a guy who’d been shot recently, he was looking pretty hale and hearty.

  “Where else would I be in the morning?” I asked him tiredly. “I was in bed and now I’m having coffee.”

  He cocked his head to the side and observed me. “You look exhausted.”

  “I am.”

  While we talked, Templeton made a point of pouring Piss her dish of cream. According to the cat, he’s the only one that does it correctly.

  “I have a job for us,” Griswald announced.

  I sipped my coffee, considering what I wanted my response to be. “Is this a real job?” I asked finally. “Or is it another family issue that I’m not being looped in on?” I met his gaze steadily as I asked the question. He’d done a lot of damage to the trust I had in him when he hadn’t told me the little girl I was trying to rescue from an abusive father, was none other than my sister Marlene’s daughter.

  He looked down, appropriately chastised. “It’s a real job,” he assured me.

  “But we need all hands on deck at The Corset today,” Loretta complained. “Maggie, I was counting on you to help—"

  “I’ll take it,” I told Griswald quickly. Whatever his job was, it couldn’t be any worse than working at the lingerie shop.

  Griswald nodded his approval. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Templeton was, once again, silently laughing.

  “So much for family loyalty,” Loretta huffed.

  “If that woman had any idea what you’ve done for this family,” Piss meowed with annoyance.

  I smiled at the cat, appreciating her support and recognition of all I had done for the family.

  Loretta toddled out on her stilettos, mumbling under her breath about the lack of support.

  “What’s the job?” I asked Griswald, watching him over the top of my coffee cup.

  “I’m not quite sure,” he admitted with a shrug. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

  Templeton slid a plate of French toast in front of me. “Would you like some?” he asked the other man.

  Griswald shook his head. “Susan is trying to get me to give up gluten.”

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “She thinks I don’t take good enough care of myself,” Griswald confessed.

  “You’re probably more likely to die because of your job than natural causes,” I muttered. When I looked up from my plate, I realized that Griswald and Templeton were both

  staring at me.

  “Yes,” Piss provided helpfully. “You did say that out loud.”

  “Only kidding,” I told the two men weakly.

  “You can make it up to me,” Griswald said.

  “How?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Give me that, before Susan walks in,” he said, indicating my plate.

  “I’ll make a second batch for you, Maggie,” Templeton promised. “You can’t really deny the man the pleasure of a last gluten-filled meal.”

  Nodding, I pushed the plate across the table to the U.S. Marshal.

  He wolfed it down like he was starving to death.

  “Marlene is taking the girls to the zoo today,” Templeton supplied as he laid slices of bread on the griddle.

  “They should have a good time,” I murmured.

  “Maybe you shou
ld go with them,” Templeton suggested. “You look like you need some R&R.”

  I shook my head. “Didn’t you hear? I’m going to a meeting this afternoon.”

  “A meeting where?” Herschel, my grandfather, asked as he strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “Griswald has a job for us,” I told him.

  My grandfather leaned back, staring at the U.S. Marshal. “You’re not going to do anything that’s going to put my granddaughter in danger, are you?”

  Griswald and I exchanged a look. Only he and I knew that I’d recently shot a man in order to save his life. And only Piss and I knew that I regularly was in dangerous situations through my work as a part-time assassin.

  “No,” Griswald assured him. “She’ll be perfectly safe with me.”

  “Breakfast, Herschel?” Templeton offered.

  The old man shook his head. “I’m going to feed Irma.” He grabbed an apple out of the basket on the counter and headed outside.

  “Where is DeeDee?” Templeton asked. “It’s unusual for me to be cooking and her not to be underfoot.”

  “He has a point,” Piss said, sitting by her now empty dish of cream, licking her paw.

  “She was tired,” I told him.

  Like me, DeeeDee, Piss, and Matilda had been making it a point to stay awake most of the night, to look after the family in case Daphne sent anyone else after them. We were all exhausted.

  Swallowing the last of his French toast, or perhaps I should say mine, Griswald eyed me suspiciously. “She’s not sleeping?”