Maggie Lee | Book 27 |The Hitwoman and the Body

by Lynn, JB

  Once we were far enough away from my regular vehicle, I revealed, “I’m going to run down Daphne.”

  “And how are you going to do that?” God asked, signaling that he didn’t have much faith in my plan.

  “I’m just going to sit and wait for her,” I told him.

  “This is a terrible plan,” God said.

  “Why?” I said, striding with purpose in the direction of the vehicle that Gino had so kindly provided. Of course, when he had given it to me, I’m sure he hadn’t realized I was going to use it as a murder weapon, more as an escape route, but I was still grateful for it.

  “One, you don’t know if you can find her,” the lizard said. “Two, a hit-and-run has to be one of the most inefficient forms of murder I’ve ever heard of. Three, the disguise isn’t that good.”

  “Recognize didn’t I her,” DeeDee panted.

  I flashed her a smile of thanks. She grinned back, which exposed all of her teeth, which made her look very scary.

  “I can’t just sit around and wait for her to strike again,” I said. This was the determination I’d made as I tossed and turned in bed the night before. This was no way for any of us to live. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her kill any of us.

  I opened the back door of the car that Gino had provided, and motioned for DeeDee to climb in, then I closed the door behind her. Getting behind the steering wheel, I took a deep breath and examined my reflection in the rearview mirror. I certainly didn’t look mousy, mousy, mousy with the dark, short-haired wig and a full face of makeup.

  “Bad idea,” God repeated. “Maybe Armani’s prediction was that you need to make duck lips.”

  “I’m not doing that,” I told him.

  “But she said, ‘You duck’. You need to look like a duck.”

  “You know she gets most of the details wrong, most of the time,” I reminded him.

  “She used to,” he said. “But lately, she’s been getting a lot more accurate. She told you how to win the poker game. When she said that you were dying, you were literally dyeing, just in color, not in death.”

  I shrugged, knowing he was right. But still…

  My cell phone buzzed, startling me.

  “It’s Griswald,” I told the animals.

  “You have to answer it,” God said. “Otherwise, he’ll be suspicious.”

  Nodding, I answered the call. “Hello.”

  “I cannot find anything on Hallangen’s lover,” Griswald said tiredly. “I’ve got no hotel rooms booked under any of his credit cards, no strange telephone numbers in his phone log, not even a suspicious order of flowers.”

  “But Derek had seemed pretty sure that he had a lover,” I reminded him. “Did you look into the location of where he said he delivered their food?”

  “I did. It’s an empty office in a strip mall. No clues there. Can you go talk to him again?” Griswald asked. “To be honest, I was out late last night and then, when I got back, Susan wouldn’t let me sleep for hours. She’s obsessed with figuring out how to keep Templeton and Loretta together.”

  “Sure,” I promised, not wanting to make him suspicious. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve talked to him.”

  “Thank you, Maggie,” he said. I could tell from his voice that he was yawning.

  “Get some rest,” I told him. Then, I disconnected the call.

  “You can’t do it. You can’t kill Daphne while you’re carrying your phone,” God said.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you know that the cops will ping its location off of cell towers?” he asked haughtily.

  I frowned. “You really watch too much TV.”

  “And I learn a lot of useful things,” he countered. “And I’m telling you, that if you kill Daphne while carrying your phone, you won’t get away with it.”

  I squeezed the steering wheel, staring out the windshield, trying to decide whether or not what he was saying was valid. Of course, I knew it was, but I really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

  “Maybe DeeDee could scare Derek into telling us more about his uncle,” I said, wanting to save face that my plan to get rid of Daphne had been so flawed. “Are you up to that, girl?” I asked the dog.

  “Scary!” she growled, pulling her lips back and revealing all of her sharp teeth.

  “Excellent,” I said. “Come on. We’ll go do that, instead.”

  “At least you can listen to advice,” God muttered as I climbed out of Gino’s clean car. It wouldn’t be clean for much longer. I was still going to take Daphne out.

  27

  Derek was helping a customer when I walked into the deli.

  I was disappointed that he seemed to recognize me immediately, despite my makeover disguise. He glanced at me nervously but continued making the man’s sandwich. While he worked, I read the menu written in chalk.

  “Ooh,” I murmured. “They have hot pastrami.”

  “You’re not here to eat,” God reminded me. “You’re here to do a job.”

  I shrugged. I really didn’t see why I couldn’t do both. After all, DeeDee had eaten half my breakfast sandwich.

  After he’d rung up the customer and the man had left, Derek eyed me warily. “Can I offer you a pickle?”

  I frowned at him.

  “I’m sorry I threw those at you yesterday,” he apologized.

  I shook my head. “I’ve had worse done to me.”

  “How about a sandwich?” he asked. “On the house.”

  “Okay,” I agreed a little too quickly.

  “You can’t take that,” God bellowed.

  Derek’s eyes went wide as he stared at my squeaking chest.

  “It could be considered to be a bribe or something,” the lizard continued. “You’re going to have to pay for it.”

  I scowled, knowing he was right. “But I’ll pay for my sandwich,” I told him. Then, because I couldn’t resist just a little bit of larceny, I said, “But if you wanted to throw in an extra pickle…”

  A small smile played at Derek’s lips. “What can I get you?”

  “Hot pastrami with the works,” I said, reading the menu.

  “You got it.”

  While he worked behind the counter, I asked, “You never saw who your uncle was meeting with when you delivered that order?”

  “Nope,” he confirmed. “He’d answer the door, but I couldn’t see who else was in there.”

  “It seems like a strange place to meet someone,” I murmured.

  “Maybe the noise next door provides cover,” he suggested.

  I glanced over as I watched him make my sandwich. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there’s that kids’ gymnastics place next door,” he said. “I would assume that means there’s a lot of screaming and thudding and just noise in general.”

  From the way he said it, I got the distinct impression he wasn’t fond of children.

  “Was it a regular order?” I asked, not knowing what else to question him about. “Or was it sporadic?”

  “Thursdays at 2:00 PM,” he recited in a monotone.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. It was a pain to bring it over to him. That’s also in the window when I normally get my soda delivery. I had to leave my assistant here to take care of that.”

  I glanced around, searching for the invisible helper.

  “He quit,” Derek said, answering my unasked question. “Do you know anybody looking for a part-time job?”

  “I don’t, sorr--,” I began.

  “You do!” God yelled. “Your father.”

  I sucked in a breath. “I might actually know someone,” I said carefully. If my father really was looking for a legitimate job, and not spying on me because of my connection to Delveccio, he would take a job working at the deli. “Can you tell me what the requirements are?”

  “To be able to make a sandwich to order,” Derek said drily, wrapping up my sandwich for me. I noticed that he added not one, but tw
o extra pickles, and I had to smile with satisfaction.

  “Do you hire ex-cons?” I asked.

  “Depends,” he said, squinting at me. “Are you going to vouch for this ex-con?”

  Despite my misgivings, I nodded. “He’s not violent.”

  Derek shrugged. “Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody needs a second chance, don’t they?”

  “That’s what people used to believe,” I muttered.

  “Well, if you can get him here, I’ll interview him,” Derek promised, handing me my sandwich.

  We walked over to the cash register and he rang up the cost. As I handed over payment, I asked him, “How do you feel about your aunt?”

  “When I was a kid,” he said with a bitter chuckle, “I was pretty sure she was the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  I blinked, remembering how my father always called Aunt Susan, Loretta and Leslie the Witches. These two might get along.

  “So you’re not close?” I asked.

  “No,” he admitted. “We never have been. She almost didn’t let me attend the funeral.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She tried to stop me at the door, but then she got distracted by somebody else who was walking across the parking lot, and decided to let me enter after all,” Derek revealed.

  “Who?” I asked curiously. “Who took her attention?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is, that whatever happened, the service started fifteen minutes later than what it was scheduled for.”

  I wondered why no one at the funeral home had mentioned that little detail to me. I made a mental note to go back and ask.

  Derek leaned closer. “If you ask me, she is just making a fuss about Uncle Bob’s ashes being stolen because she wants the attention.”

  “Seems like a strange way to get attention,” I murmured.

  “Not if you’re trying to make trouble for someone,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure that she lives to make trouble for other people. You know what I mean?”

  I nodded slowly. I had known my fair share of people like that.

  “Thanks for this,” I said, raising the sandwich.

  “I hope you find them,” he said. “I hope you find Uncle Bob’s ashes.”

  “Are you going to try to claim them?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but everyone deserves closure.”

  I nodded. Closure, the elusive thing everyone wants and feels they “need” is something that people rarely get.

  28

  “Now scare?” DeeDee barked excitedly as I returned to the car carrying my sandwich.

  “No need, sweetheart,” I told her. I’d left her in the car, telling her that I’d use her as backup if Derek didn’t give me the information that I was hoping to get from him.

  The dog looked momentarily disheartened, hanging her head. Then, her nose twitched. “Hungry!” she barked as she realized I was holding a sandwich.

  “We have to go do some work, first,” I told her. “Then, I’ll share it with you.”

  “You never share any food with me,” God complained, climbing up to my shoulder.

  “We don’t eat the same foods,” I said.

  “You should try chocolate-covered crickets,” he suggested. “I’ve heard that humans find them to be a delicacy.”

  I shuddered at the thought. I’ve killed people for money, but there’re some things even I won’t do.

  I drove over to the address that Derek had provided, where his uncle had been every week at 2:00 PM. As he’d said, there was a gymnastics place next door. I watched as a parade of harried-looking parents ushered their hyper-looking kids in the doors.

  “What are we looking for?” God asked impatiently.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then why are we sitting here?”

  “I think I’ll know it when I see it,” I said, reaching for the sandwich.

  “It’s not pornography,” God lectured. “It’s not something you’ll know when you see it.”

  “You don’t know that,” I told him.

  “Hungry,” DeeDee reminded me.

  “You just ate the other sandwich,” God complained.

  “Well, I’m still hungry, too,” I told him. I took out the first pickle and bit into it, savoring the briny crunch.

  “Yuck,” God complained. He dove back into my bra as though that would offer protection from the offensive pickle. DeeDee drooled on the passenger seat.

  “You can’t have the bread,” I told her. “It’s not good for you.”

  “It’s not good for you, either,” God muttered. “Gluten is the devil or something.”

  I began to pull the meat off the sandwich and toss little bits to the dog, who snapped them up like she was a school of hungry piranhas. I alternated between being amused by her, eating my half of the sandwich, and watching the people streaming into the gym. I wondered how many kids they possibly had in one tumbling class. I was just finishing my sandwich when there was a knock on my window.

  I choked and sputtered, DeeDee barked, and God bellowed, “Who is it?”

  Once I’d swallowed the last of my sandwich, I glanced at the window and saw that Patrick Mulligan was watching me. Normally, he seemed amused by my less than graceful theatrics, but he just was scowling now.

  “Get in the back,” I told DeeDee quickly.

  The dog jumped into the rear of the car without argument. While Patrick walked around to climb into the passenger seat, God once again scaled my bra strap so that he could see what was going on.

  “Uh oh,” he murmured as the redhead settled himself into my car.

  “What’s up?” I asked Patrick, using a napkin to dab away the last of the evidence of my sandwich eating.

  “What are you doing here, Mags?”

  “Chasing down a clue on a case I’m working with Griswald. Why? Is this some hot bed of criminal activity that I didn’t know about?”

  He shook his head. “Unless you count bribery, I don’t think so.”

  “Bribery?” I asked.

  A small smile played at Patrick’s lips. “I used to have to bribe my daughter to go into her gymnastics class.”

  I blinked. He didn’t really mention his family…families… often.

  Shaking his head, he returned the conversation to why he was actually there. “Have you heard about your dad?”

  “Is there something I should know, besides that he was the cellmate of the guy found in Delveccio’s trunk?”

  He nodded slowly. “There’s been a little bit of a new wrinkle.”

  I closed my eyes and tilted my head back against the head rest. “What?”

  “He’s now considered the prime suspect in the murder,” Patrick revealed tiredly.

  I didn’t even open my eyes. I didn’t shake my head. I didn’t react. Somehow, this made perfect sense. I wondered if Daphne was responsible for all of this.

  “It makes things really tricky,” Patrick warned when I remained silent. “The cops are looking for him. Delveccio might be looking for him.”

  I opened one eye so that I could look at him. “Are you telling me that Delveccio sent you to look for him?”

  Patrick shook his head. “Not me.”

  “Who?” I didn’t really need him to answer the question. I could guess at what his response would be.

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’re a lousy liar,” I told him bitterly. “We both know that he’d send his right-hand man after him.”

  Patrick shrugged. “That would be the logical choice, but I don’t know for sure.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was telling me all of this so that I could make an effort to protect my father, or if he was trying to drive a wedge between myself and Gino. Either way, it was a situation that felt untenable.

  “If I talk to my father, I’ll tell him to turn himself in,” I said with little enthusiasm.

  “If I was your father,” he replied, “I’d run. Be careful, Mags,” he warned. “This coul
d be messy.”

  I nodded. Most of my life is messy.

  29

  After Patrick left, I gave up my surveillance of the gymnastics class. I decided to head home. On the way, I swung by The Corset. Soulful & Sinful weren’t set up outside yet, and the parking lot was pretty quiet. I parked at the opposite end from Loretta’s shop and watched the door for a while.

  “Now what are you doing?” God asked from his vantage point on the dashboard of the car.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not going to be able to protect him, Maggie,” God said quietly.

  “My dad?”

  “Him, Delveccio, Templeton,” he said. “The only person who can save himself, is himself.”

  “Did you read that on a fortune cookie or something?”

  He stuck his tongue out at me.

  I watched as the man I’d caught Loretta canoodling with walked across the lot toward her store.

  “He looks familiar,” I muttered.

  “Of course,” God reminded me. “You caught him with his tongue down your aunt’s throat.”

  I shook my head. “No. I know him from somewhere else.” I followed his progress closely, trying to remember exactly where I’d seen him before. The memory niggled at the back of my mind, but wouldn’t come into the light.

  “You’re just going to let him go in there?” God asked.

  I nodded. “Loretta’s an adult. It’s not up to me to stop her. The only one who can stop herself from doing something stupid, is herself.”

  I started the car and drove off toward Herschel’s compound. As soon as I parked, somebody was calling my name.

  “Maggie!”

  I turned and saw that Miss Lassalan, the girls’ teacher, was hurrying toward me.

  My heart dropped. “Did something happen to Katie?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  I stared at her, trying to quell the panic I felt rising in me. “Did something happen to Alicia?”

  She shook her head again. “It’s not about the girls.”