by Lynn, JB
“And you believe them?”
“Implicitly.”
Ahead, we spotted flashing lights.
“We’re too late,” he muttered as we watched police cars surrounding my uncle’s home.
“Stop the car!” I ordered, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Stop the car, now, Jack!”
He slammed on the brakes as I threw open my door, and I almost fell out. Recovering, I opened the rear door. “Go, Piss. Go!”
The cat streaked away. The dog followed after her.
“Where’s the dog going?” God groaned. “Nobody told her to go anywhere.”
“Be careful, DeeDee,” I murmured, knowing it would do no good to try to call her back.
“What do you think your pets are going to do?” Jack asked, walking over to stand beside me.
“I think they’re going to save the day,” I told him with more confidence than I actually felt.
We were stopped far enough back that the cops hadn’t noticed our arrival. We were also in the perfect place to spot the man with glasses that I’d caught making out with Aunt Loretta, running into the woods to circle behind Thurston’s home. He was carrying a gun, like he meant to kill my father himself.
Jack took off running after him.
“Be careful, Jack,” I warned, too weak and dizzy to do anything except lean against the car, waiting to see what would happen next. The cops at the front of Thurston’s house were shouting, and there was a flurry of activity. I squinted, trying to make out what was going on.
Men, hands raised, were coming out of the house. I held my breath, praying to spot my father.
Then, I heard the gunshot.
Everyone heard it.
“Dad,” I gasped, realizing we’d been too late. I slumped against the car, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry.”
“There, there,” God soothed, patting my cheek with his tiny feet. “It was one shot. Don’t go jumping to the worst possible conclusion.”
A streak of black fur raced toward us.
“The dog’s okay,” God announced with relief. “That’s something, at least.”
DeeDee skidded to a halt in front of the car. “Worked it,” she panted excitedly.
“What did you work?” God asked impatiently.
“Plan. Ian,” the dog tried to explain.
“Archie didn’t run?” the lizard confirmed with uncharacteristic patience.
“Run no!” DeeDee seconded.
“Then, who’s been shot?” I asked as we watched half the police contingent run into the woods behind Uncle Thurston’s house. “Please don’t let it be Jack. Please don’t let it be Jack.”
“You should probably sit down before you fall,” God urged.
“Sit,” DeeDee seconded.
I sank into the passenger seat of Jack’s car. All I could do was wait.
40
“How’d your family meeting go?” Gino asked me three days later.
We were having a picnic lunch of olive loaf sandwiches and sour pickles in the cemetery near my sister Teresa’s grave. My dad, who’d taken the job at Derek’s deli, had prepared the food. It wasn’t quite the date Gino had been hoping for, but it was some quality time for just the two of us. Though we weren’t really alone, since the lizard, cat and dog were lounging nearby.
“The meeting went surprisingly well,” I admitted, lying down and staring up at the sky. “We voted to invite Templeton to stay, regardless of his relationship status with Loretta. And he agreed.”
“And how’s your aunt feel about that?”
I shrugged. “I think her shine is temporarily dulled. The guy Loretta was cheating on him with, ended up dead.”
“Yeah,” Gino said, “I read all about that in the articles that reporter, Stern, wrote.”
“Mmmm,” I murmured noncommittally.
“Good series,” Gino continued. “Excellent investigative reporting. Showed what a dirty scumbag D.A. Reese really was.”
“Yup.”
“No mention of the boss or Angel,” Gino said mildly. “That kind of surprised me.”
“Jack’s full of surprises,” I agreed. “Like you.”
Gino stretched out on the blanket beside me. “Like me?”
“Mmmm.”
“You haven’t begun to sample the surprises I can offer,” he flirted, nibbling on my neck.
I reveled in the pleasure for a moment, and then gently pushed him away. “Did you kill Reese?”
“No, ma’am,” he responded quickly.
“Somebody did.”
“Did you see who shot him?”
He searched my face. “You think I was there?”
I nodded. I didn’t tell him that Piss had seen him in the woods behind Thurston’s home.
“I was there,” he admitted. “I would have killed him if I’d had the chance, that’s my job, to protect the boss, but somebody beat me to it.”
“Who?” I asked, knowing that Jack had been cleared of the crime and claimed to have not seen the shooter.
“Justice isn’t always served in a courtroom, Maggie,” Gino said with a rueful smile. “You should know that.”
I nodded. Zeke had assured me that Daphne was no longer a threat to my family. I didn’t know what, exactly, had been done to her, but I was pretty sure her punishment had been just.
“You’re not going to tell me who killed him?” I asked him.
“You don’t need to know.”
I nodded. “He was right.”
“Who was?”
“Griswald. He told me we’re all more interconnected than we realize.”
“Wise guy,” Gino murmured. “Even if he is a Fed.”
DeeDee plopped down beside me and Piss, with God riding on her back, curled up beside Gino.
He surveyed our little group with amusement. “I guess this means I’m part of the pack?”
“No,” God corrected. “It means you’re part of the family.”
The End
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HITWOMAN BOOKS IN ORDER
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
The Hitwoman Gets Lucky
The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels
The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness
The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost
The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops
The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple
The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog
The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition
The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb
The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub
The Hitwoman and the Mother Load
The Hitwoman Under Pressure
The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone
The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip
The Hitwoman in a Pickle
The Hitwoman and the Gold Digger
The Hitwoman's Juggling Act
The Hitwoman and the Falle
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The Hitwoman Goes to Prison
The Hitwoman and the Exorcism
The Hitwoman Plays Games
The Hitwoman Owes a Favor
The Hitwoman and the Teddy Bear
The Hitwoman and the Body
And don't miss the Psychic Consignment Mystery series.
One Woman’s Junk
Gently Used, Still Works
Another Woman’s Treasure
Something Old, Something New
Cursed Chicks Club
Once Cursed, Twice Shy
2 Spells Too Many
3 Times A Charm
4 Wonky Jinxes
About JB Lynn
Author of the never-ending Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman series, JB Lynn (you can call her Jen) is a Jersey girl, who was transplanted in Florida for a while and is now putting down roots in North Carolina. When not taking photos and exploring the mountains with her rescue mutt, she writes the Psychic Consignment Mysteries and the Cursed Chick Club series because she’s got a soft spot for hijinks, humor, and heart (not to mention an almost compulsive need to tell stories!).
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