Maggie Lee | Book 28 | The Hitwoman Pays A Debt

by Lynn, JB

  “You know it’s not that simple,” I told him. “This is bad enough. Can you just please not give me a hard time?”

  “Leave her alone,” Piss warned the lizard.

  I thought that he was going to argue, but instead he turned his back to me and stared out the windshield. I turned and smiled at Piss, mouthing the words, “Thank you.” I followed Patrick all the way to the other side of town and wondered if this was going to count as part of the one to two hours. Finally, he pulled onto a residential street and parked. I pulled up behind him. He hopped out of his car and hurried over to mine.

  “We’ll need your car from here,” he said. “Brody knows mine.”

  “Really?” I asked. He went through so many vehicles that I had no idea what his vehicle of the day was.

  “Go down to the corner and make a left,” he said. He directed me a few blocks in and then told me where to park. It was a nondescript neighborhood. Mid-sized homes on postage-sized lots, with perfectly manicured lawns.

  “What are we watching?” I asked tiredly once he directed me to park.

  “That car,” he said, pointing to a silver sedan two houses down.

  “And who does that belong to?” I asked.

  “Brody.”

  “I thought the flaming truck was Brody’s,” I said.

  “Like me, he has more than one mode of transportation,” Patrick said drily. “I know why I have them, I want to find out why he does.”

  We settled in to watch the silver sedan that was parked in front of a white and brick house. It was boring.

  “You look nice,” Patrick murmured.

  “Thanks,” I said, not taking my eyes off of the sedan. I wasn’t going to go through this thing with him where he flirts, and I respond, and then lament that our relationship didn’t work out.

  “That woman that was hassling you…” he began.

  I shook my head, refusing to discuss someone who’d been bent on destroying myself and my family. I’d been assured that she’d been taken care of; I didn’t think it was a good idea to talk about it in a car bugged by the people who had taken care of her.

  Patrick shrugged. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Mad? No. I’m just tired,” I told him. “I’m tired of being at everybody’s beck and call at all times.”

  “I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off, realizing that he had treated me as though I was at his beck and call.

  “I owe you,” I told him. “I get that. But I owe a lot of other people, too, and I’m just being torn in a million directions, at the moment.”

  Before he could respond, Brody stepped out of the white and brick house and walked toward the silver sedan. He carried a large cardboard box, which he placed in the trunk of his car before driving off.

  I started my vehicle.

  “What are you doing?” Patrick asked.

  “I thought you wanted me to tail him,” I said. I mean, that’s how this whole thing had started, him saying that he needed me to tail somebody for some reason.

  “Not now,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m in the car, and if he spots a tail, and I’m in the car, it kind of defeats the purpose,” he said.

  “Then you should have brought your own car to the stakeout so that I could tail him now,” I muttered.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Patrick said. “You’ll get your chance at another time.”

  “Oh boy,” I murmured sarcastically. “I can’t wait.”

  14

  I had just left Patrick at his car when my cell phone buzzed.

  “Don’t answer it,” God urged.

  I understood the feeling.

  Glancing at the caller ID, I saw that it was Ian and answered through the speaker of my car. “Hey, Ian.”

  “Hi, Maggie,” he said, sounding tense.

  My mind immediately went to the thought that my father had probably gotten himself into some kind of new trouble. Dreading the answer, I asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Ian reassured me quickly. “It’s just that I have to cancel dinner.”

  I let go of the steering wheel so that I could wave both hands in the air in excitement. “Oh,” I said, trying to sound disappointed even though I was relieved.

  “Kristen’s got to work,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said, yet again. I wondered if the work she had to do was with her official job as a medical examiner, or if she was doing a job for Delveccio as the mob boss’s doc on call.

  “We’re going to have to reschedule,” Ian continued.

  “You bet,” I said.

  “But I guess you’ll get to meet her at Griswald’s party.”

  “I did already meet her,” I reminded him. Of course, it hadn’t gone well, because she and I had both recognized each other from the time she had helped out Angel Delveccio, but neither had wanted to admit that in front of Ian. It had been very uncomfortable.

  “Yeah,” he said. “But you didn’t have a chance to talk.”

  I rolled my eyes. What was he expecting, for us to become best friends or something?

  “I’ll see you at the party,” he said.

  “See you then.” I ended the call and began to sing, “Oh happy day.”

  I’m pretty sure that the funny sound that God made was him chuckling.

  “My luck is changing,” I declared.

  “Probably for the worse,” Piss murmured.

  I glanced at my one-eyed cat, wondering why she was in such a sour mood. “Something’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing in particular,” she admitted. “It’s just that you don’t seem to have the best of luck, Sugar.”

  I nodded, knowing she was right. Still, I’d gotten a reprieve and I was going to be happy about it. When I got back to the compound, I found Katie sitting alone on the front porch with DeeDee at her feet.

  “You look beautiful, Aunt Maggie,” she gushed as soon as I stepped out of the car.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” I told her. “It’s the shoes that make the outfit.”

  She clapped in delight. “I told you so.”

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked. I climbed up the steps of the porch and sat down in the seat beside her.

  “Waiting for Mike,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Are you expecting him soon?” I asked, unsure of what the crow’s current schedule entailed.

  She shrugged, then she leaned a little closer to me and whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Assuming it was going to be about the bird, I nodded.

  “Dominic can’t read,” she revealed sadly.

  I sat back in my seat, surprised. That was not at all what I expected her to say. “What do you mean, he can’t read?”

  “He’s really bad at it,” she said. “I brought him that book, and he didn’t want it.”

  “Well, maybe it just wasn’t a subject matter he liked, sweetie,” I said. “Sometimes people give us gifts and they mean really well by them, but they’re not what we want.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that. He can’t read good.”

  “Well,” I corrected automatically. Some days, I really do channel Aunt Susan.

  Katie revised her assertion. “He can’t read well.”

  “Oh.” That seemed to be my default response to people, at the moment.

  “You need to talk to his grandfather about it,” she said. “Miss Lassalan is always saying reading is fun and fundamental.”

  I stiffened nervously. I didn’t think that telling the mobster that I thought his grandson could be illiterate was the wisest idea.

  “You have to tell him, Aunt Maggie,” Katie pushed. “Promise me.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, hedging my bets. Maybe it was a subject I could bring up with Gino, and skirt around actually having a one-on-one conversation with the mobster about it.

  “Miss Lassalan is a good teacher,” Katie said.

  I nodded my agreement
distractedly.

  “Maggie,” a voice called, saving me from the conversation. I turned and saw Griswald walking toward me. “Do you have a minute?”

  “I do,” I told him, jumping to my feet, glad to have the excuse to put some distance between myself and Katie. I ruffled her hair and said, “See you later, alligator.”

  “In a while, crocodile,” she said with an answering grin. Then, she looked at Piss. “Would you like some cream?”

  The cat meowed her response and the little girl, cat, and Doberman all went into the house.

  “Let’s walk,” Griswald suggested, making it clear he didn’t want to have this conversation inside the house where anybody else could overhear it.

  We went for a stroll up the driveway.

  “What did you see?” he asked curiously.

  “Stephens, Martinson, and Cheever got into an argument as soon as the service was over,” I told him. “They got into a scuffle. I wasn’t close enough to overhear what was being said, though.”

  “I told you what they said,” God piped up from his hiding place in my bra. Both Griswald and I ignored the squeaking sound.

  “And,” I told him. “There was a man that I couldn’t identify staying a short distance apart from the service, but definitely watching it.”

  “Brian noticed him, too,” Griswald admitted. “But he was unable to identify him.”

  I thought about the fact that Piss had seen a lock on the man’s van, but couldn’t figure out a way to work that into the conversation without sounding like I was totally insane. I kept my mouth shut.

  “Well,” Griswald said. “If there’s division among their ranks, maybe that means that the bomber is about to be revealed.”

  “Could be,” I said noncommittally.

  “I’m going to try to kick the hornet’s nest,” Griswald declared.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes making a mess of things is the only way to sort things out.”

  “It sounds dangerous,” I said, not bothering to disguise the worry I was feeling.

  “Life is dangerous, Maggie,” he said.

  Didn’t I know it?

  15

  Since I’d already told Aunt Susan that I wasn’t going to be there for dinner, I found no reason to tell her that Ian had canceled our plans. Instead, I took Benny and Piss for a ride. God came along just because he didn’t want to be excluded from “mammal activities”. DeeDee was invited but didn’t want to come, for fear of losing out on dinner. I drove to the local park and pulled out my phone.

  “What are we doing here?” God asked impatiently as though he had somewhere more important to be.

  “I want to look up locksmiths,” I said. “Maybe Piss can recognize the logo on the van of the man who was at the cemetery.”

  “That’s actually a good idea,” God said in amazement.

  “Good idea! Good idea! Good idea!” Benny cheered.

  I looked over at the cat, who’d remained silent. “What do you think?”

  “I can try,” she said and licked her paw, showing how unconcerned she was with my plan. We spent about fifteen minutes with me pulling up various local locksmiths and her looking at the pictures of their logos before we finally found the one we needed.

  “That’s it!” she meowed excitedly.

  I took a screenshot of A.C. Locksmith. “Excellent job,” I told the cat. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll buy you whatever it is. Fish? Cream?”

  “Sure,” God griped. “With all I do for you, you never ask me what I want for dinner.”

  “That’s because you want crickets,” I told him impatiently. “Every single time. That’s what you want. Crickets.”

  “And I’m the one that catches them for you,” Piss told him angrily. “And you never say thank you.”

  “I do, too,” God countered. A sharp rap on my window startled us all. God screamed, Piss hissed, and Benny squeaked.

  Looking over, I saw Gino, grinning at me. I rolled down my window. “You scared us.”

  “You should pay better attention to your surroundings,” he told me sternly. “You’re in a dangerous line of work, Maggie. You need to know what dangers lurk in the shadows.”

  I glanced around. “There are no shadows.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Do you want to go to dinner?”

  “I would,” I said carefully. “But I just promised Piss—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sugar,” she said. “I’m sure whatever he’s going to feed us will be fine.”

  “Okay, she says we can go with you to dinner.”

  “I’m glad you got the cat’s permission.” He chuckled. “Follow me.”

  He got into his car and pulled away. Rolling up my window, I began to follow him.

  “It’s creepy how he always knows where you are,” God complained.

  “It is,” I agreed. Considering that my car was also probably bugged by Ms. Whitehat’s team, it was creepy that everything that I ever said in it was overheard, too.

  Gino led us to the house that he claimed was owned by his mother. I wasn’t quite sure that I believed him, but it seemed obvious that he didn’t actually live there, either. He was out of his car before I even put mine into park.

  “Date night!” he said.

  I let Piss out of the car, scooped up Benny out of the cup holder where he was curled up, and grabbed God off the dashboard. Getting out, I said to Gino, “What’s the occasion?”

  “Date night,” he said drily. “Not that you’re dressed for it.”

  I shrugged. “That’s what happens when you don’t give a girl any notice.”

  Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, he asked, “So, if I’d given you notice, you would have shown up in that black dress and those green heels?” Then, his eyes went molten, and his voice deepened slightly as he said, “You looked hot earlier.”

  Heat rushed through me, and I looked away before I did something embarrassing like jump him in the street. “Thanks,” I murmured. “I didn’t know you were around.”

  “I’m around more than you realize, Maggie,” he said. “Come inside.”

  As we walked into the house, we were greeted by the smell of roasting chicken. “Chicken!” Piss meowed with delight. “I love chicken.”

  “You planned this?” I asked Gino suspiciously. Was he the reason that Ian’s girlfriend had had to cancel our dinner plans?

  He shrugged. “I had the night off, I started dinner, and then I realized where you were parked. I figured you were either there to rendezvous with Mulligan, or—”

  “I do not rendezvous with him,” I said defensively.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, what was it that you were doing with him earlier?”

  I frowned and shook my head. “It’s creepy that you know where I am and who I’m with all the time. It’s like you’re my stalker boyfriend.”

  “You think I’m your boyfriend?” He moved closer, his tone hopeful.

  “I think you’re my stalker,” I countered, gently shoving him away.

  Laughing, he said, “Wine?”

  I had to admire the way he absorbed my small rejection and changed the subject so smoothly. “Sure,” I said. “I could use it. I’ve had a day.”

  “I bet,” he said.

  As he opened a bottle of wine, he looked at me, his eyes wide and innocent looking. “Want to tell me what you did today?”

  “Why should I bother?” I asked snarkily. “You already know.”

  He shook his head. “No, I really don’t know why you were at the cemetery or at the dentist’s office. I know you were there, and I know that you hung out with Patrick—”

  “I did not hang out with Patrick,” I interrupted angrily. “He needs a favor. I’m trying to help him out.”

  Gino frowned. “I don’t like it.”

  “Frankly, neither do I, but it’s not like I have an option.”

  “Is he pressuring you?” I could hear the threat to Patrick’
s safety in Gino’s voice.

  I shook my head quickly. “I’m repaying a debt.”

  “That could be dangerous,” Gino said.

  Again.

  I wondered if he knew something that I didn’t.

  16

  I was the one that had to start the coffee the next morning because I was up before the rest of the household. I quickly got up and got dressed wearing the closest thing I had to office attire, black pants and a long-sleeved red blouse that I had borrowed from my sister Marlene the night before. As I stood there, listening to the comforting gurgle of the coffee maker, I sensed a presence behind me. Whirling around, I found Aunt Leslie standing in the doorway watching me.

  “Good morning,” I told her rather breathlessly because she’d startled me.

  “It is,” she agreed. “I’m about to go out and do some sun salutations. Would you like to join me?”

  I shook my head. “I’m short on time today.”

  I noted that she was dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt, a vast improvement from the times that she’s practiced sun salutations outdoors in the nude. Shrugging, she glided past me and went outside.

  “You should take up yoga,” God said from his spot in my bra. He’s often on my case about taking up an exercise program.

  “I’m not flexible,” I told him.

  “Yoga is a mind and body practice,” he intoned. “Your mind could use the workout, too.”

  Ignoring him, I poured a saucer of cream for Piss. The cat squinted her good eye at me, making it clear that I had not poured it the way that Templeton did.

  “Take it or leave it,” I told her.

  “I’ll take it, Sugar,” she purred. “I know you did it with the best of intentions.”

  “Hungry!” DeeDee panted from beside me, despite the very thing I’d done when I’d walked into the kitchen was to give her a full scoop of dog food.

  “We have to go for a walk,” I told her. “If you’re good, and you help me, you’ll get more to eat when we get back.”

  “Blackmail,” God muttered. “Your mind really does need a workout.”

  Ignoring him, and leaving the cat behind, I ushered DeeDee into my car and drove away.