The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

by J. B. Lynn

  “Yes.” He fell silent again as I tried to wrap my head around the idea.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “I don’t know it’s them for sure.”

  “Who?”

  “If I tell you, you’ll be tempted to do Delveccio’s bidding. I’m not sure that’s the way to handle it.”

  “Who?” I practically screeched, frustrated by his unwillingness to tell me.

  “You’re starting to sound like an owl,” Piss complained. “Who? Who? Who?”

  “What’s wrong with the cat?” Patrick asked.

  I didn’t answer. We were almost back to the Bed and Breakfast and I didn’t know anything more than I had before we’d left. “Delveccio says I may have to kill you if the bomber ends up being who he suspects,” I blurted out.

  That stopped Patrick in his tracks. I’d gone three paces ahead before I realized he was no longer with me.

  Halting, I turned around to face him.

  “He said that?” His voice, laced with steel, was barely audible.

  I nodded, the hairs on the back of my neck rising up as I realized how dangerous he sounded. “Not that I would,” I assured him hurriedly, remembering too late why I’d kept that bit of information to myself in the first place.

  “I hadn’t realized…” he trailed off thoughtfully.

  “Which is why you have to let me help you,” I said.

  Before he could reply, a car raced up the street causing us both to hop up onto the sidewalk. The car’s tires squealed as the driver slammed to a stop.

  “Lunatic,” I muttered.

  Zeke jumped out of the car and hurried toward us.

  Panic cut off my airflow. Had something happened to Aunt Leslie?

  “I need a favor,” Zeke said, forcefully striding toward me.

  I let out a shaky breath. If he needed something from me, my aunt couldn’t be in danger.

  He stopped a few feet away from me, eyeing Patrick. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure, sure. This is Detective Mulligan. Detective this is one of my oldest friends, Zeke.”

  “Ahh,” Zeke extended his hand. “The man who saved DeeDee. Loretta told me all about you.”

  It took Patrick a long moment before he shook the other man’s hand. My stomach flipped nervously as an oppressive tension filled the air.

  As they sized one another up, the cat drawled, “Smell the testosterone.”

  “You needed something, Zeke?” I said, trying to dispel some of the tension.

  Before he could answer, Patrick said, “I’ve got to go. Thank you for your time, Miss Lee.”

  “But,” I sputtered, “we’re not done.”

  “We are for now. As I said, be careful.” Nodding at Zeke he marched away purposefully.

  “Your man is not happy,” the cat meowed.

  Like I needed her to tell me that.

  “Everything okay?” Zeke asked again, watching Patrick’s exit.

  “There’s just a lot going on,” I grumbled.

  Turning his attention back to me, Zeke patted my shoulder. “I know. And I feel really guilty asking you this with all you’re going through, and I wouldn’t but it’s important.”

  “How important?” I joked weakly, not relishing the idea of having something else on my To Do list.

  “Life or death,” Zeke replied seriously.

  I sighed. I already had Life or Death on my list.

  “I need you to keep an eye on Gypsy,” he continued.

  “Just say no,” Piss urged.

  “I…” I began weakly. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re the person I trust. You’re the reason we’re here.”

  “I don’t understand,” I told him.

  “Say no,” the cat whined.

  He turned his head one way, then the other to make sure that there was no one within earshot. He stepped closer, eliminating the distance between us. “I’m going to confide in you, Maggie, but I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

  I nodded. The irony that this man was willing to tell me his secrets while Patrick kept his closely guarded didn’t escape me.

  “Promise?”

  “No!” the cat yowled.

  I ignored her. “I promise.”

  Placing a hand on my shoulder, Zeke leaned in close. “Do you remember when I told you I worked for an employer?”

  I nodded. He’d made the revelation that he was a con man with debts to repay to said employer right after Alice’s wedding.

  “They do good work. Save lives. Do good.”

  “Okay,” I said, unsure if he was trying to convince me or himself.

  “We need Gypsy’s help.”

  “Why?”

  “She saw something. Something very important, but then she witnessed a murder and the trauma made her forget.”

  “Did she claim to be able to see dead people before the person was killed?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  I couldn’t very well tell him that I hadn’t been able to speak to animals before the car accident that had killed Teresa, hospitalized Katie, and scrambled my brain and was wondering if that kind of stress gave people unusual abilities. Instead I countered with, “You don’t know?”

  “I didn’t meet her until after the murder.”

  “Then why the hell did you bring her here?” I demanded angrily, shoving him away.

  “Shhh,” he cautioned. Stepping closer again he confided, “She was shaken up. Badly. When she asked me if I knew what it was like to have nowhere to go, I told her I did, but then I told her how you had convinced your family to take me in as a kid. How the B&B had become a safe haven for me.”

  “More like a loony bin,” I muttered.

  “But a safe one,” he chided gently. “After I told her about it, she insisted I bring her here.”

  “Why?”

  “So she can remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “A code. A very important life-saving code.”

  “Just say no! Just say no!” the cat started to chant.

  “Is there something wrong with it?” Zeke asked, eyeing the feline like he was afraid she was rabid.

  “Her,” I corrected. “And no, there’s nothing wrong with her. She probably just thinks I’m a fool for standing out here talking to you about a woman who thinks she’s a ghost channeler.”

  “I know it’s a lot, but—“

  “I have a job. And a niece that I visit in the hospital every day. And I’m trying to keep my sister from taking off again. And Leslie, in case you haven’t noticed, has lost her ever-loving mind, and Susan isn’t far behind. So yeah, I’ve got a lot going on. I don’t have time to babysit your clairvoyant.”

  Spinning on my heel, I stalked away from him. My life was over-complicated, I couldn’t afford to shoulder Zeke’s baggage too.

  “Woohoo!” the cat cried. “She said no.”

  “It’s a sex slavery ring,” he said so softly that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly.

  Halting, I turned back to face him.

  “Uh oh,” the cat whined.

  “We’re trying to break up a sex slavery ring.”

  “Are you saying that because of Marlene?”

  “What does Marlene have to…” He trailed off as he connected the dots.

  “You said it was life or death,” I reminded him. “You don’t think that was being a tad overly dramatic?”

  “Not when some of these girls end up dead,” he said quietly.

  Remembering how we’d believed Marlene had ended up like her twin, my stomach lurched. “What did Gypsy see?”

  “When and where the next delivery is taking place.”

  “And by delivery you mean?”

  “Girls. Some teens. Some younger.”

  Bile rose in my throat at the thought of a child Katie’s age being exploited.

  “I have to go chase down another lead, Maggie,” he said. “I need you to keep an eye on Gypsy. The moment she remembers I n
eed you to call me. Can you do that?”

  I nodded slowly. How could I refuse?

  “I knew I could count on you.” Closing the space between us, he picked me up in a bear hug. “I’m going to tell Gypsy what’s going on and then I’ll take off.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, and I need one more favor,” he said, putting me down.

  “What now?” I asked plaintively.

  “Can you pick up Leslie from her meeting?”

  “Of course.”

  It sounded like a simple enough request. Then again, when is anything in my life ever simple?

  Chapter Eleven

  Picking up Leslie from her meeting was complicated.

  I suspect Piss thought it would be since she declined to go into the house with me. When I returned to the dining room to share my plans, Armani and Gypsy both said they wanted to come along for the ride. Then, since they were going, DeeDee who was locked in the basement started raising a stink.

  “Ride! Ride!” she barked insistently.

  “You can’t leave us here,” God yelled.

  “I got her a seatbelt,” Aunt Susan said.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The dog,” my aunt replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

  “The dog?” I parroted back.

  “It’s the law,” she reprimanded.

  “What’s the law?” I asked, confused.

  “Dogs have to be restrained in cars.”

  I looked to the two lawmen for confirmation.

  They said simultaneously, “I don’t live in New Jersey.”

  “Honestly, Margaret,” Susan huffed. “I know your father is a bad influence, but I thought I’d done a decent job of making sure you didn’t grow up to be a criminal.”

  I wondered what she’d think if she found out I kill people for money.

  “I don’t think breaking a dog’s seatbelt law makes her a criminal,” Bob chided softly.

  I flashed him a grateful smile. U.S. Marshal Griswald might have been an expert silver polisher, but Bob had the guts to stand up to the crazy members of my family, so he earned extra points in my book.

  “I didn’t know it was a law,” I said in my defense.

  Undeterred by Bob’s gentle reprimand, Susan continued, “Ignorance is no excuse for stupidity. You’ve been riding around willy-nilly endangering that poor animal’s welfare.”

  “How does one drive willy-nilly?” Armani quipped.

  Not amused, Susan got up from the table. “I’ll get the seatbelt.”

  “Thanks,” I said, doing my best to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

  If Susan’s raised eyebrow was any indication, I failed.

  “Can we get ice cream?” Armani asked.

  “Like cream ice DeeDee!” the dog barked excitedly.

  “Moron!” God bellowed.

  “What’s that squeaking sound?” Gypsy asked.

  “Her lizard,” Armani replied, not missing a beat. “She takes it everywhere. We went to Atlantic City to see Barry Manilow and she brought it with her.”

  Rather than endure the curious stares of everyone at the table, I leapt to my feet, ran to the basement door, and freed the dog.

  She bounded out, God clutching her collar, hanging on like he was riding a mechanical bull.

  “Hungry hungry.” DeeDee whined.

  “She’s always hungry,” God groused.

  I put out my palm, offering him a lift. He scrambled on, climbed up my arm, and perched on my shoulder. Returning to the dining room, the dog on my heels, I poked my head inside and said, “You coming?”

  “What about the seatbelt?” Bob asked.

  “Screw the seatbelt. We’re going willy-nilly,” I muttered.

  Armani slid out of her seat. “Let’s roll, Chiquita!” With her good hand, she grabbed one of Gypsy’s. “Girls’ night.”

  I hurried out the door with the animals. Armani, dragging Gypsy along, wasn’t far behind.

  “Cream ice. Cream ice,” DeeDee panted under her breath like she was trying to send some sort of subliminal signal.

  We piled into my car, Armani in the back with the unrestrained dog, Gypsy in the front passenger seat, and me in the driver’s seat with the lizard hanging out on my shoulder.

  “Window open!” DeeDee barked.

  I complied, opening all the windows, since the stink of Gypsy’s patchouli was quickly giving me a headache.

  In the rearview mirror I saw Aunt Susan approaching, waving a contraption of fabric and straps that looked suspiciously like a straitjacket. Gunning the motor, the tires squealed as I left her in the dust, an expression of abject fury contorting her face.

  “Ice cream,” Armani reminded me from the back seat.

  DeeDee seconded the motion with a loud woof.

  “Katie loves ice cream,” God whispered sadly.

  The unexpected reminder of my niece brought tears to my eyes as a painful lump rose in my throat.

  “We have to make a stop before ice cream,” I decided aloud, making a sharp right turn and heading toward Apple Blossom Estates.

  “Where?” Armani asked.

  “The hospital.”

  “I can’t go to the hospital!” Gypsy gasped, horrified.

  I turned my head to get a good look at her. Pale, every muscle in her body taut, she looked terrified.

  “Why not?” I asked gently.

  “Eyes on the road!” God shrieked.

  Jerking my head back, I realized I was headed straight for an oncoming car. Yanking the wheel I put us back on track. “Sorry!”

  “Why can’t you go to the hospital?” Armani asked.

  “There are dead people there,” Gypsy said, her voice shuddering. “Lots of dead people.”

  “You don’t have to go inside,” I assured her, pulling into the lot. “I won’t be long.”

  I jumped out of the car.

  “I’m hanging here!” God shouted.

  “What are we doing here?” Gypsy asked nervously.

  As I hurried away, I heard Armani answer, “This is where her niece lives.”

  “Not that I don’t appreciate the chance to see Katie, but what the hell are we doing here?” God’s speech was breathless as he was jostled with every step.

  “Ice cream.”

  “Non sequitur much?” God spat back.

  Stopping, I spun around and faced the parking lot. “In the bra,” I ordered.

  “Hey,” he protested. “Since when does asking a question merit a torture session?”

  “I’m not torturing you. I just can’t be seen breezing into the hospital wearing a reptile. The nurses frown on such things.”

  “Fine, fine,” God grumbled slipping down my chest and settling himself in my bra. “But don’t forget I’ve got sensitive skin.”

  Once he was secured away, I turned back to the hospital, went inside and rushed to Katie’s room.

  A couple of Delveccio’s goons lounged in the hallway outside the room my niece shared with the mobster’s grandson.

  “Is he in there?” I asked.

  They nodded, making no move to stop me as I barreled into the room.

  Sure enough, the mobster was seated in a chair beside his grandson’s bed. He had a phone to his ear, so I just raised a hand in greeting before I scurried over to Katie’s bed.

  “Hey, Baby Girl,” I whispered, leaning over the bed to kiss her forehead.

  She smiled in response.

  “Look who I brought to see you.”

  God scrambled up out of my bra and jumped onto the pillow.

  My precious niece’s eyes lit up as he climbed on her cheek and began whispering in her ear.

  “Maybe I should get my grandson a pet,” Delveccio mused from the other side of the room.

  I turned to face him. “I need a favor.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you already owe me a favor or two.”

  “I’m working on that,” I assured him. Not that Patrick would approve. “This
is personal.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I crossed the room and lowered my voice, hoping Katie couldn’t hear our conversation. “I want to take her out of here. Just for an hour.”

  Delveccio’s gaze flicked over to Katie who was now giggling due to God’s antics.

  “Why?”

  “I want to take her for ice cream.”

  “They have ice cream here. They’ve got that soft serve shit in the cafeteria and everything.”

  “I want to do something normal with her. I want her to know the world outside these walls is still there for her.”

  “And ice cream is going to do that?” He twirled his giant diamond pinky ring thoughtfully.

  “I need an hour,” I said, hating the way my voice cracked with desperation as I made my plea. “Can your guys keep the nurses out for an hour?”

  “And what do I get from this deal?” the mobster asked.

  I shrugged helplessly. This was a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of plan. I hadn’t thought it out.

  “Tell him I’ll visit the boy,” God said from Katie’s bed.

  “You’ve seen how she perks up when I bring the lizard,” I said to Delveccio. “He could visit with your grandson.”

  Delveccio squinted at me for a long moment. I couldn’t tell whether he was seriously considering my offer, or if he thought I’d lost my mind.

  “Deal,” he said suddenly, extending his hand.

  I shook it, slightly surprised by the strength of his grip.

  “But..,” Delveccio added, “You’ve got to have the lizard visit with my boy for ten minutes first.”

  Ignoring the niggling sense of guilt that I felt, knowing that I’d left Armani, DeeDee and Gypsy in the car, I nodded my agreement.

  I scooped God off of Katie. “Thank you,” I whispered as I deposited him on the little boy’s bed.

  Settling himself by the boy’s ear, he began whispering.

  With Delveccio watching his grandson’s monitors intently, I played, Itsy Bitsy Spider with Katie.

  After a few minutes I heard something that sounded like an owl’s hoot.

  “Hide the lizard,” Delveccio ordered.

  I quickly lifted the reptile and deposited him in my bra.

  Delveccio raised an eyebrow. “You are one weird broad.”

  A night nurse bustled in.