Maggie Lee | Book 28 | The Hitwoman Pays A Debt

by Lynn, JB

  30

  Gino gave me a strange look. “I get that in your line of … work… you have a reason to be paranoid,” he said carefully. “But frankly, I don’t see anything too unusual about two siblings having dinner together.”

  I frowned and looked away from him. He wasn’t wrong. I had become paranoid, but that didn’t mean that I was wrong, either.

  An uncomfortable silence settled between us as we stared out at Brody and Kristen.

  “I’ve got a date tomorrow,” I told him.

  I felt him tense, but he didn’t turn to face me. “Oh,” was his only response.

  “It’s a work-related thing,” I hurried to assure him.

  “You don’t owe me any explanation, Maggie. You’re a grown woman with your own life.”

  “It’s this Griswald thing I’m looking into,” I began to explain.

  He held up a hand to silence me. “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care about the Griswald thing or you don’t care that I’m going out on a date?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer. I really wanted him to admit that he didn’t like the idea of me going out on a date with another man. Not that we had that kind of relationship where we were exclusive or even special to one another, but …

  “I appreciate that you gave me a heads up,” he said with such formality that I laughed. That made him turn and look at me, his eyebrows raised.

  “I told you so that you won’t kill him,” I admitted.

  “You think that of me? That I’m going to go around and kill off my competition for you?”

  I winced, hearing the pain in his voice. I shook my head. “If that was the case, Patrick would already be dead, wouldn’t he?”

  Gino cocked his head to the side and searched my face. “Is he competition?”

  “No,” I said a little bit too quickly.

  “He’s wrong for you, Maggie,” Gino said, turning so that he could settle back into his seat. “I’m not saying that I’m right for you, but I’m telling you that Patrick Mulligan is wrong for you.”

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

  Gino inclined his head toward God, who was sprawled out on the dashboard. “Does he know about him?”

  “No.”

  “Then that’s my case,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes, signaling he didn’t want to have any more of this conversation.

  “The man has a point,” God opined. “He knows about me. Armani knows about me. Why not this great love of your life, Patrick?”

  Gino opened one eye to look at the lizard. “What did he say?”

  It wasn’t like I could tell him that he’d just said that Patrick was the love of my life, so I gave him the shortened version. “He said you’re right.”

  “High five, my man,” Gino said, holding out his hand toward the lizard. God raised one foot to make contact with the tip of Gino’s pinkie.

  “Did you see that?” Gino asked, his eyes widened, and he sounded as excited as a little boy on Christmas morning.

  Despite myself, I chuckled. “That, I have never seen him do,” I told him. “It must mean he thinks you’re special.”

  “At least someone does,” Gino muttered.

  “I like this one,” God said indignantly. “I haven’t made a secret of that.”

  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two people approaching the car. We’d been so engrossed in our conversation that neither of us had noticed that Brody and Kristen had gotten up from the table and left the restaurant. Seeing the sudden tension in my face, Gino turned in the direction I was looking to see what I had observed. He spun back around equally quickly, grabbed my face in both hands, and kissed me.

  Part of my brain knew that he was doing it to provide cover. People weren’t going to look too closely at a couple making out in a car. But part of me could also feel the frustration that he’d been holding back during our conversation poured into the kiss. It was hot and passionate and I wanted to be consumed by it. I forgot all about Brody and Kristen and got lost in the sensations. I couldn’t get enough. I wasn’t sure how long we were at it, but suddenly, there was a knock at the door, cooling the ardor more effectively than a bucket of cold water.

  Gino pulled away, an unreadable expression in his eyes as he glared at whoever had just knocked on the driver’s side window. I gulped, and then turned slowly to face our interrupter. Patrick scowled at me.

  “I guess I should go,” Gino said. “Enjoy your date tomorrow.”

  With that, he jumped out of the car and left without a word to Patrick. The redhead didn’t move from where he stood, forcing me to roll down my window.

  “Where is he?” Patrick asked through gritted teeth.

  “He had dinner with his sister,” I replied.

  “Great. Where is he?”

  I shrugged helplessly.

  “Jeez, Mags,” he complained. “I ask you for a favor and you use it as a chance to make out with your boyfriend.” He shook his head, his disappointment and frustration evident.

  “Patrick,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry. They just left a minute ago.”

  “How would you know?” he asked. “You didn’t even see me arrive. You were so busy with Gino.”

  Embarrassment heated my cheeks. Patrick turned and stalked away.

  “That was awkward,” God pointed out.

  Shaking my head, I rolled up my window, started the car, and drove home. I really wanted to just crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, but Griswald was sitting on the front porch, apparently waiting for me. The second I got out of the car, he said, “I’m not getting anywhere with Chilton.”

  I let out a tired sigh. “I am,” I told him. I told him about my dinner date plans with his suspect.

  “That could be dangerous,” Griswald said worriedly.

  I rolled my eyes. “As I’ve said, he was six when the bombing took place. I really don’t think he’s your killer.”

  “That’s not why I think it might be dangerous,” Griswald said. He looked away. Something in his expression set off my interior alarm bells.

  “What is it?”

  “Martinson died today.”

  “From the funeral?”

  He nodded.

  “How?” I asked. “How did he die?”

  “It appears to have been a heart attack,” Griswald revealed.

  I let out a shaky sigh. “Do you believe it?”

  “Perhaps,” Griswald said thoughtfully. “But it also appeared to be a heart attack that killed Gabriel.”

  “Coincidence?” I asked. Even as I said the word, I knew that the likelihood was low.

  “Or our killer is wrapping up loose ends.”

  31

  I am not cut out to have a regular job. I know that because I found it so difficult to get out of bed knowing I had to go to the dental practice office. Of course, maybe the fact that I was weighted down by a Doberman pinscher, a one-eyed cat, and a snoring pig had something to do with my difficulty. Despite them, I finally dragged myself out, grabbed God, and stumbled to the kitchen, desperate for coffee. To my surprise, I didn’t find Templeton there, but Armani.

  “I told my new friend to come see you,” I told her as I poured us each a mug of the steaming brew that was waiting. I hoped that it had been Templeton to set it up and not somebody else.

  “She’s coming in for a job interview tomorrow,” Armani revealed.

  I squinted at her as I placed the mug in front of her where she sat at the kitchen table. “Sometimes you’re scary with this psychic stuff.”

  “She called you Betty,” my friend revealed mildly.

  I winced. How stupid of me to connect Missy with Armani when they knew me by different names. “Did you correct her?”

  Armani shook her head. “Figured you had a reason for not using your real name.”

  Because she’s a good friend, she didn’t even ask me why I’d given Missy an alias.

  “Th
anks,” I said with a sigh of relief.

  She smiled a knowing smile. Then, she grabbed my hand and stared at it.

  “Okay, now you’re just creeping me out,” I told her after an uncomfortable couple of seconds. She turned my hand over, staring at the palm and then tracing my lifeline.

  “You’re not going to tell me I’m going to die soon again, are you?” I asked worriedly.

  “You’re in danger,” she said.

  “From whom?”

  She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. All I know is that I know you’re in danger. You should stay home.”

  “How do you know it’s not Aunt Susan who’s trying to kill me with her party preparations?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You need to be careful, Maggie,” she told me, not thrown off from her message. “It’s very important that you’re careful. If you need help, ask for it.”

  I nodded slowly. I wondered where the danger came from. Not that I doubted that I was in it. If Armani predicted something, chances were, some version of it was going to soon come true. I believed I was in danger. But I didn’t know if that was from Dr. Dello or Alan Chilton.

  “Aunt Maggie!” Katie yelled, running into the kitchen and interrupting our conversation.

  I bent down to give her a tight hug, taking care not to spill my hot coffee on her.

  “Dominic should come to our school,” Katie said matter-of-factly.

  I’m pretty sure that I heard Armani choking on her coffee.

  “I’m sure Dominic goes to his own school, honey,” I said, smoothing her hair and standing back up.

  “His teacher is no good,” Katie insisted. “Otherwise, he’d read better.”

  Something in the way Armani was watching Katie made me ask, “Did you put her up to this?”

  Armani shook her head. “I only built the schoolroom, which, at the time, everyone told me was too big for just Katie.” She raised her eyebrows, reminding me that, at that time, we hadn’t even known about the existence of Alicia. Now, it was helpful that she and her cousin could take class together in the classroom in the barn.

  “So you think she’s right?” I asked my friend. “You think that Dominic should go to school with them?”

  She shrugged. “Do you think anybody would allow that?”

  “Reading is important,” Katie interjected. “You need to make this happen, Aunt Maggie.”

  I chuckled at her bossiness. “I’ll talk to his grandfather,” I promised her.

  “Excellent!” my niece declared. “I have to go feed Mike, now.” She rummaged in the pantry for a moment and emerged with a cracker, then she ran outside.

  “You’d better not only check with the boy’s grandfather,” Armani warned. “I think this is something that’s going to require a family meeting to vote on.”

  I nodded slowly. I knew there would be a lot of opposition to the idea of a mobster’s grandson taking class with Katie and Alicia, especially here on the property. “I’ll see what Delveccio says, first. If he shoots it down, the rest of the family doesn’t need to know about it.”

  “Doesn’t need to know about what?” Aunt Susan asked, walking into the kitchen and eyeing me suspiciously.

  I froze for a second.

  “We’re thinking about hiring somebody new at The Corset,” Armani interjected smoothly.

  Aunt Susan put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “Why can’t you just work in a noble profession? Why must you labor somewhere so…so….tawdry?”

  I raised my hands defensively. “Not me,” I assured her quickly. “I have no desire to ever work at The Corset.”

  “You two do know that I’m a part owner in this business that you’re busy maligning, don’t you?” Armani asked. She got up from the table, grabbed her coffee, and limped away, muttering under her breath.

  Before Susan could ask anything else, I told her, “I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I have a date.”

  “With Zeke?” Her smile brightened considerably at the mention of my old friend.

  I shook my head. “A guy I met.”

  “Where?”

  “At the cemetery.”

  She shook her head. “Only you would meet a man at a cemetery. You’re not bringing him to Griswald’s party, are you?”

  “No,” I said. “But I was considering bringing Zeke.”

  “That would be great,” Susan gushed. “He’s always welcome. At anything.”

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the back door and Zeke, as though he knew we’d been talking about him, stuck his head inside the kitchen. “Katie said Maggie’s here?”

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “Come in, dear,” Susan invited. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No,” he said. “I was thinking I could give Maggie a ride to work.” He met my gaze, signaling that we had something important to talk about.

  I nodded. “Let me get dressed.”

  “And let me get you at least half a cup of coffee while she does that,” Susan insisted.

  I hurried into my room and dressed in a pair of rainbow-adorned scrubs.

  “It must be important if he came here,” God mused.

  “Who’s here?” Piss meowed curiously.

  “Zeke.”

  “My Zeke?” The cat jumped off the bed. “Let me go see him.”

  I opened the door so that she could run out and go see her beloved Zeke.

  “It must be important,” God repeated.

  “No doubt,” I grumbled. I glanced in the mirror, noting that the circles under my eyes appeared darker than usual. Zeke was cuddling Piss when I walked back into the kitchen. “I’m ready.”

  “I made you lunch, Margaret,” Susan said. She handed me a brown paper bag.

  “Thank you.”

  “And I’m looking forward to seeing you at the party tomorrow night, Zeke,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll see you there.”

  Together, we walked outside and got into his car. “What’s going on?” I asked as he started it.

  “You need to lure Dello to the office tomorrow for your hand modeling session,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “So that we can send in the ninjas, knock him unconscious, open the safe, and you can call the police,” he explained.

  I nodded. As plans went, that one actually made some sense. “What’s in the safe, Zeke?”

  “I told you, I don’t know.” He shook his head and squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “It’s important that you tell everyone that you see that you’re going to have Dello mold your hands at work tomorrow.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Your coworkers, your family, somebody you see at the store. Just tell everyone. Leave the trail.”

  “Like dropping breadcrumbs,” God piped up from my bra.

  I ignored him. “You make it sound like I’m going to be leading people to the evidence of my murder,” I told Zeke jokingly.

  From his grim expression, I got the distinct impression he thought that might be an actual option.

  32

  Lynette, the dental technician, held the door for me and smiled widely as I walked into the building.

  “Good morning,” she said cheerily. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

  “Uh huh,” I muttered, trying to avoid staring at her ugly headscarf. Just the day before, she’d seemed to hate me and had done her best to get me fired. Now, she was greeting me like I was her best friend. Missy was already sitting behind the reception desk and rolled her eyes as she watched our interaction.

  “Would you like to have lunch?” Lynette asked me.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. I already have plans.”

  “Some other time, then,” Lynette said. “I’m looking forward to the chance to get to know you better.” She waved at Missy. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.” She hurried off toward the back of the building.

  I just stood th
ere, and I’m pretty sure my mouth hung open.

  “Lynette’s a bit moody,” Missy said with an amused smile.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” I told her.

  “Good morning, all,” Dr. Dello boomed, walking in behind me.

  Missy smiled politely, but I noticed that it didn’t reach her eyes. There was something about the good doctor that she really didn’t like. After seeing his collection, I couldn’t blame her.

  I turned slowly and did my best to smile at him. “Good morning, Dr. Dello.”

  “We’ve got a busy day today, ladies,” he announced. “But then, we’ll have a wonderful weekend in order to relax and recharge.”

  Remembering what Zeke had said about making sure that everyone knew that I was going to be meeting him regarding my hands, I said, “I’m so looking forward to our time together tomorrow, Doctor.”

  I saw him tense and glance at Missy nervously. “Of course,” he said awkwardly. “Of course.” He hustled away toward his office.

  “What are you doing with him?” Missy asked, sounding alarmed.

  “He wants to make a mold of my hands,” I said, holding them up so she could see them.

  “Why?” My new friend did not sound enthused about the plan.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know but he’s paying me for my time.”

  She frowned. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No,” I said a little too quickly, realizing that she could easily mess up the plan if she came along. I saw her face crumple, as though she felt like I’d rejected her. “Not that I don’t appreciate it,” I told her quickly. “But I can handle this. Besides, aren’t you going to The Corset tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “I talked to your friend already about it.”

  I nodded my approval. “I think you two will get along well.”

  “Are you two going to stand here all day chit chatting or are you going to do some work?” Marge asked, lumbering in behind me.

  “Good morning,” I told her.

  “We’re not ready to open yet,” Missy said. “We don’t start for another three minutes.”