by JB Lynn
I shook my head. “I’m not sure I could convince him the sky is blue. He seems to hold some pretty strong opinions.”
He looked over at his grandson for a long moment. "Family, can't live with ‘em, can't control a damn thing they do."
I knew that feeling all too well.
Chapter Five
Katie was exhausted by the time we left the hospital. She barely ate any of the spaghetti and meatballs Aunt Susan had prepared, even after we’d assured her that no chicken was involved in the making of the meal. We left out the part about a cow’s involvement.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye, and realized that Susan was doing the same, while Aunt Loretta and Templeton, who’d cleaned up nicely after his yard work, seemed oblivious. They just chattered on and on about some classic film weekend they were going to.
When we were finished eating, Susan told me not to bother helping clear the table, but to put Katie to bed. I nodded gratefully, eager to tuck Katie in. Once she'd brushed her teeth and changed into her pink princess nightgown, I asked, "What book would you like to read tonight?"
She shook her head sleepily. "Can you just tell me a story?"
"What kind of story?" I fluffed her pillow and threw back the covers for her to climb in.
"Tell me a story about Mommy."
A lump rose in my throat and I busied myself with tucking the sheets tightly under her chin. "What kind of story about your mommy?" I asked finally.
"Tell me about when she was little like me." Katie stared up at me, her eyes round and serious.
"Once upon a time," I began, racking my brain for a story to tell. "There lived a princess. She lived in a castle, with her mom and dad, the queen and king, and three other princesses."
Katie nodded her approval.
"But they weren't the only ones who lived in the castle. Three other sisters lived there too."
"Were they witches?" Katie asked innocently.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if she'd heard her own mother refer to my aunts as “the witches”, something we’d done for years. "No," I said slowly. "They weren’t witches. They were fairy godmothers."
Katie giggled.
"One day, the king and queen took all the princesses to a beautiful lake for a picnic."
Katie’s eyes started to drift closed.
"While at the lake, the princess wandered off by herself. She saw some beautiful green plants, and being a princess who appreciated beauty, she decided she had to have some."
I paused, waiting to see if Katie was still awake. Her eyes fluttered open.
"So the princess picked a giant bunch of the leaves off the green plant. Then, because she was a very nice princess, she shared the leaves with all of her sisters. They too thought that the leaves were very beautiful."
Katie’s eyes closed again.
"But when the king saw that the princess had picked the plant, he roared a terrible roar and scared all the princesses.” I fell silent for a moment, waiting to see if she was still awake. She didn't stir. "The king," I whispered softly, "was not really angry at the princess. He was just worried, because your mommy had picked poison ivy."
I winced at the memory, remembering how all of us had ended up covered with an itchy rash. And for a moment, it felt like the loss of Teresa was brand new.
I took a shaky breath, trying to will away the tears that threatened to fall.
Piss, the cat, emerged from beneath Katie's bed and wound herself around my ankles. Even though she couldn't talk, I knew she was offering me comfort.
"Thank you," I whispered.
She answered with a soft mewl.
I left her to watch over Katie, and made my way to the kitchen to talk to Aunt Susan. She had finished loading the dishwasher, and was setting up the coffee maker for the next day when I walked in. I leaned against the counter and watched her, waiting expectantly. "I heard you fired the therapist."
"She wasn't improving," Susan said with more than a touch of self-defensiveness. "Besides, she made Katie cry."
I nodded. “We’ll find another.”
Susan looked surprised. “You’re not mad?”
I shrugged.
“Mad about what?” my sister Marlene asked, strolling into the kitchen.
“I fired Betty Jo,” Susan explained.
“Good.” Marlene opened the fridge and peered in to find something. “I never liked her.”
“I did it without consulting Maggie first,” Susan admitted.
Marlene’s head popped up over the refrigerator door. Her eyes round, mouth gaping open. She looked from me to Susan and then back to me before she finally said, “And you’re not mad?”
I shook my head. “Is that so surprising?”
“Yes.” She bobbed her chin for emphasis.
I frowned, not happy to hear that apparently my entire family expected me to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation.
“You’re letting out the cold,” Susan chided Marlene.
My sister shut the refrigerator door. “But I’m starving.”
“Where’s Doc taking you?” I asked, noting that she was dressed up in a short black dress and heels.
“Luigi’s.” Marlene’s eyelashes fluttered as she sighed dreamily. “Can you think of anything more romantic?”
“I can,” Susan muttered. “Overpriced Italian food paired with poor lighting does not make romance.”
Marlene scowled. “It does for me.”
Considering that my sister had spent years working as an escort, I imagined that any kind of “date” that didn’t end with a pile of cash seemed like the epitome of romance.
“Is it a special occasion?” I asked soothingly, while shooting Susan a warning look.
“Nope,” she smiled, her mood lightening. “It’s a ‘just because’ date.”
“How nice for you.”
“Says the woman who hasn’t been on a date in how long?” Susan mocked.
“Hey,” I held up a finger to silence her, “I went on a date with Paul.”
“And then he tried to kill you,” Marlene reminded me.
I shrugged. “A girl can’t be too picky.”
Marlene dissolved into giggles and even Aunt Susan grudgingly grinned.
I smiled at them both before impulsively throwing my arms around my sister and hugging her tightly. “Have fun at Luigi’s.”
Marlene grinned. “I will. I’ll wait on the front porch so that Doc doesn’t ring the bell and wake Katie when he gets here.”
“Thanks.” When she was gone, I looked over at Susan. “Speaking of love lives, I haven’t seen Griswald around lately.”
She brightened at the mention of the U.S. Marshal she was dating. “Lawrence has been out of town, but he should be back at the end of the week.”
I nodded. I could have guessed that. Weeks earlier he’d left me a note letting me know I’d be able to speak to my father, something that was against the rules of the Witness Protection program, at the end of the week.
“He’s a good guy,” I said.
Susan raised an eyebrow indicating she didn’t believe me.
“Really. I mean it.” Sure, it was dangerous for me that a law enforcement officer was welcomed in the B&B, but he was good for Susan and had always treated everyone fairly.
“Even after what happened with your father?” Susan prodded.
I nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, he saved dad’s life. I’m looking forward to his return.” I didn’t add that I was anxious to see him again because it meant I'd finally get to ask my father what Kevin Belgard had to do with my mom and the disappearance of my sister Darlene, Marlene’s twin.
“You’re growing up, Margaret.” My aunt shook her head as though it was a miracle she hadn’t expected to see in her lifetime.
“Had to happen some time,” I joked.
“Tell that to Loretta and Leslie,” she murmured dryly.
“They try,” I said, excusing the behavior of her sisters.
&nbs
p; “There’s a difference between trying and doing,” Susan countered. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless there’s something else you need.”
“I’m good. Just going to walk DeeDee.”
“Sweet dreams, Margaret.”
“Goodnight.” I headed for the basement, while she went upstairs.
DeeDee greeted me at the door, panting excitedly.
“We’re going for a walk.”
She yipped softly, and then looked over to the lizard who was sprawled out on the piece of driftwood in his terrarium.
“You want to come along?” I asked.
He didn’t respond, which I took to mean he was content where he was.
Grabbing the Doberman’s leash, I opened the storm cellar doors and let her out, completely forgetting that the backyard had a new occupant. Sure enough, the big black dog bounded toward the chicken coop.
The bird squawked her alarm and beat her wings as though that would scare off the mutt.
“Be nice, DeeDee,” I ordered. “This is DinDin.”
The dog licked her lips appreciatively.
“DinDin, this is DeeDee,” I introduced. “She won’t hurt you.” I shook my finger at the dog for emphasis.
The pooch immediately lay down and rolled over onto her back, signaling her agreement.
“All right, let’s go.” I slapped the leash against my leg.
The dog jumped up and let me hook the leash onto her collar before trotting off, dragging me behind her. I let her lead since she knew where we were headed. It was the same place we’d gone every night for more than two weeks. Kevin Belgard’s block.
Since he lived right around the corner, I’d taken to stalking the cop’s house on a nightly basis. I didn’t know what it was I was looking for when I walked the dog past his home, but it made me feel like I was doing something in my investigation of what had happened to my sister Darlene.
It probably wasn’t the best of plans, but then again, nothing about this particular quest made much sense when you considered that I’d only started looking into Darlene’s disappearance when a woman who talked to ghosts had told me that my other dead sister, Teresa, Katie’s mom, had said that Darlene’s not dead.
Yes, I know the whole thing is convoluted and absurd, but I still need to find out the truth. I’d tried asking my mom for help, but she wasn’t up to it and I didn’t want to risk her having a full breakdown, which is why I’d asked Marshal Griswald to help me to talk to my dad, and why, every night, under the cover of darkness, I nonchalantly walked my Doberman pinscher past the house of the man who might be responsible.
So there we were, strolling along, DeeDee sniffing every blade of grass while I tried to sneakily steal glances at Belgard’s place as though I expected to find the answers I sought hiding in the shadows, when a dark SUV pulled up beside us.
DeeDee barked at the vehicle.
“Shhh.” I didn’t want Belgard to find out about our secret observation.
The passenger window of the SUV lowered and I held my breath and the dog’s leash, waiting to see who it was.
Chapter Six
“Hop in, Mags.”
Patrick.
I didn’t bother to ask how he’d found me. Somehow the handsome hitman/cop always seemed to know where I was.
I opened the back door and shooed the dog inside. Not that she needed urging. DeeDee loves Patrick. I’d like to think it’s because he feeds her, but I suspect, that like me, she’s enamored with the man himself.
I jumped into the front seat.
“Anybody expecting you back?” Patrick asked before I’d even closed the door.
“I don’t have to check in with anyone, if that’s what you mean.”
He nodded, spun the steering wheel, and drove in the opposite direction of the B&B.
“Where are we going?”
He glanced at me. “You’ll see.”
That’s Patrick, a man of few words.
After a few minutes I said, “I saw Delveccio. I know about Lamb.”
Patrick grimaced. “Do we have to talk about that now?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
Then he fell silent, which seemed to indicate he didn’t really want to talk about “us”.
“Okayyy,” I prompted. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
He squeezed the steering wheel, his forearms flexing. “Did you use the soap?”
“The soap?”
“The soap I gave you.”
“The soap you gave me a few hours ago? No, I didn’t use it yet.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.
“Not that it isn’t nice,” I hurried to reassure him, caving to my internal need to make everything okay. It sucks to be a people pleaser.
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
I stared at him, wondering why he seemed to be bent out of shape over a bar of soap.
He pulled onto a side street and parked the SUV behind an apartment building. “We’re here.”
I peered out at the building. It wasn’t in the best of neighborhoods and shrouded by the night, it looked downright creepy. “Tell me you didn’t bring me here to do a job.”
“I definitely didn’t bring you here to do a job.” He twisted in his seat and captured my mouth with his own without warning. The kiss was brief, but tantalizing, leaving me wanting more.
Patrick jumped out of the vehicle, ran around to my side, opened my door, and offered his hand.
“What’s going on?” I narrowed my eyes at him, but took his hand, allowing him to pull me from the SUV. He made a show of steadying me, using his free hand to grab my hip, searing me with his touch.
Instead of answering, he opened the back door to let DeeDee out. Then, not releasing my hand, he led me toward the nearest apartment door. It felt strange to hold his hand, both electrifying and safe.
DeeDee trotted closely behind.
“Seriously, what are we doing here?” I asked when we reached the door.
Patrick’s face was half obscured by shadows when he looked down at me, but there was no mistaking the desire in his voice when he said, “I need more of you.”
My mouth went dry and my heartbeat kicked into overdrive as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the key.
He hesitated a moment and handed it to me. “Your call.” As he pressed the metal into my palm, fireworks zinged up my arm. “Do you want more, Mags?”
I stood there for a moment, processing what he was saying, what he was offering.
This wasn’t how I’d imagined us finally being together. I’d thought there’d be rose petals and soft lighting and satin sheets, but that’s not what this was.
He wasn't offering romance. He was offering a stolen hour or two in a seedy place.
When I didn’t answer right away, he said softly, “There’s no pressure. This is your call.”
I bit my lower lip, trying to think despite the fact that every cell in my body was desperate to throw themselves at him.
He watched me patiently, as though he somehow understood I had to think the whole thing out before making a decision.
As we stood there, in our stolen moment, hidden by shadows, I realized that we’d probably never have what I dreamed of. This might be the best we could ever have. Did I want to settle for that?
I felt his gaze roaming over me, studying both my face and my body. His perusal was like a teasing touch, setting off explosions of desire in my core.
Did I really want to miss out on this chance to be with him?
My hand trembled as I reached to insert the key into the lock.
As though he anticipated I’d need steadying, Patrick wrapped his arms around my waist. Instead of making things easier, it magnified the problem as my body shivered with awareness.
Before I could ask him to help me with the lock, his hands slipped under my shirt, skimming upward, stroking my ribcage.
I moaned softly.
“O
pen the door, Mags,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear, making me buck against him.