The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb: Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 12

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The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb: Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman Book 12 Page 9

by JB Lynn


  He flashed a thumbs-up.

  The day had not been a total waste. We'd found Katie's new healer.

  In case I needed further proof that I was on the right track, Katie talked about Rhonda excitedly as I put her to bed.

  I made a mental note that I had to do something special to thank Angel. He seemed to always be going above and beyond, and his efforts always resulted in making my life easier.

  After Katie had fallen asleep, I went down to the basement to take the dog for her nightly walk. "Ready to go?" I picked up the leash.

  "Go. Go. Go."

  I took two steps and then dropped the leash. "What did you say?"

  "Go. Go. Go." She wagged her stump of a tail for emphasis.

  A tidal wave of happiness smashed into me, bringing tears to my eyes, and knocking me to my knees.

  "Wrong Maggie what's?" She licked tears from my cheek.

  "She can understand you, you idiot," God declared snootily from his terrarium. "Clearly, your butchering of language has upset her."

  "Or maybe," Piss suggested, crawling out from beneath the sofa, "she's overwhelmed with happiness."

  I nodded, unable to form the words to confirm she was right.

  “Back Maggie. Back Maggie."

  I reached out and grabbed the spot between the dog’s eyes. "Yes, I'm back."

  "It's about time," God complained. "It took you forever."

  "It's not like I wasn't trying," I snapped.

  "We know you were, sugar,” the cat purred soothingly. "Don't let him ruffle your feathers."

  "She doesn't have feathers," God reminded everyone.

  "I missed you guys," I declared.

  "There’s something you should know," Piss said. "Katie's lonely."

  "Smells yard bad,” DeeDee panted.

  "What are you going to do about Lamb?” God demanded to know.

  I giggled hysterically.

  "What's so funny?" The lizard flicked his tail.

  "Smells yard bad." The dog pawed at me for emphasis.

  "Don't crack up on us now, sugar." The cat rubbed her face against my leg.

  "It's just so overwhelming, to go from total silence to all of you talking at once."

  "It must've been whatever is making that terrible racket upstairs," the lizard opined.

  For once, the cat agreed with him. "That must have been the resonance you needed."

  I nodded.

  “No doubt it stimulated the same sections of your brain that the automobile accidents did,” God said smugly. “I told you so.”

  “Did you?” I asked, impressed.

  “No, he didn’t,” Piss argued. “He kept saying you needed to crash a car again.”

  I looked at the lizard. “That’s what you said?”

  He twitched his tail. “I may have suggested that your brain needed some outside assistance.”

  “For the record, Mr. Know It All,” I informed him indignantly. “I didn’t cause either of the crashes. I wasn’t even driving.”

  "Go. Go. Go." The Doberman ran to the storm cellar steps, to make her point.

  "Okay." I picked up the leash I'd dropped on the floor. "Let's go."

  "Be careful," Piss warned. "The fella in the house was watching you earlier."

  "I noticed."

  "Who?" DeeDee asked.

  "The owner of the house you go spy on every night, you imbecile." God turned his back on the dog, as though she'd mortally offended him with her question.

  "We'll be careful," I promised the cat. Opening the door, I let DeeDee pull me into the night air.

  I stumbled behind the dog, giddy that I was no longer alone. I had my confidants back. I could discuss any problem with them, and they'd answer me.

  "Armani is getting more accurate," I told the dog. "She was right to take me to the shaman to learn about the resonance and she was right about, 'Help me, Rhonda’. Isn't that amazing?"

  "So say if you," she agreed easily.

  I practically skipped as we made our way over to Belgard’s house. I tried to get a better look at the window I'd been watching earlier, but couldn't, because it was located at the back of the house.

  "Take your time," I urged. "No need to rush past this place."

  That is, until a bright spotlight was switched on, capturing us in its beam.

  Shielding my eyes from the light, I fought the urge to run, knowing that doing so would make me look guilty. I waited for Belgard to step out of the shadows, but he didn't.

  I tugged the dog's leash to hurry her along, not liking that the man who might have been responsible for my sister's abduction was watching me. I let the darkness swallow us as we moved away from the house.

  "Hungry," DeeDee whined.

  "Okay, okay. I'll feed you when we get home," I promised.

  "Chicken?"

  "No. You aren't allowed to eat DinDin.”

  "Chicken fried?" she panted hopefully.

  "Not tonight."

  I fed her once we got home, and spent an hour talking to God and Piss before going to bed. I was smiling as I fell asleep.

  I heard screaming as I woke.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The high-pitched, terrorized screams woke me from my sleep.

  In my groggy state I thought it was Katie, and headed for the stairs that led to the kitchen.

  "Outside," God and Piss shouted simultaneously, causing me to skid to a stop.

  I changed course abruptly, and tripped over the dog who was right behind me. I fell to the ground, landing heavily on my knees.

  The screaming hadn't stopped.

  As I scrambled to my feet, I snatched up the nearest weapon, an unopened jar of olives, that I'd considered snacking on the night before, but had thought better of, when the lizard pointed out that all that salt would make me puffy.

  The dog and I raced up the storm cellar stairs in the direction of the screaming. I pushed open the doors as hard as I could, sending them bouncing on their hinges. Olives raised above my head, I ran outside.

  Leslie, outfitted in her yoga gear, was screaming.

  I didn't see any sign of danger, so I lowered the jar to my side. "What's wrong?"

  She turned toward me, tears streaming down her face.

  "What's wrong?" I asked more insistently, striding toward her.

  She lifted a trembling finger and pointed toward the chicken coop.

  That's when I saw it. The lifeless body of the bird, her neck snapped, lay on top of the coop.

  I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from screaming, too.

  You’d think, having killed a couple of people, that death wouldn’t freak me out, but it still did.

  I hurried to Leslie's side, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and turned her around so that she was no longer facing the bird.

  "Breathe," I urged. "Just breathe."

  Despite the fact that her entire body was trembling, she tried to do as I asked.

  "What on earth is going on?" Aunt Loretta, wrapped in a too small black silk robe, hurried across the yard. "You're going to wake the neighbors."

  Leslie let out a hiccupping sob. "She was murdered."

  That stopped her twin sister in her tracks. "Who?"

  Instead of answering, Leslie pointed in the general direction of dead DinDin.

  Loretta let out a dismayed yelp, and then ran from the yard.

  The Doberman slowly inched her way toward the dead chicken.

  "Leave it alone," I ordered.

  She immediately sat down. "Dead?"

  "Looks that way," I muttered. Before I could move closer to the bird, U.S. Marshal Lawrence Griswald, gun drawn, ran toward me.

  I threw my hands up in surrender. "Don't shoot."

  He lowered his gun, and scanned the yard. "Where is it?"

  "Where's what?" I asked.

  "The body," he snapped. "Loretta said there's a body back here."

  I pointed toward the bird.

  "A chicken?"

  I nodded.

>   He shook his head, putting his gun back into its holster. "I'll never live this one down."

  "Live what down?" I asked.

  "I called the police."

  "Because Loretta said there was a dead body back here?"

  He nodded, a pained expression on his face.

  Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but grin at his discomfort.

  "Who would kill an innocent bird?" Leslie asked without turning around.

  I looked to the dog, hoping she could shed some light on the situation.

  "Wasn't me it," she insisted.

  I knew that. She had not been out of my sight until I’d opened the storm door after the screaming had begun.

  Griswald moved closer to the dead bird. "Have you made any new enemies?"

  I glanced in the direction of Belgard’s house. "No new enemies."

  The Marshal followed my gaze. "You have your suspicions?"

  "No proof of anything."

  Sirens wailed in the not so far distance. The Marshal winced.

  "It's not your fault that Loretta is a drama queen," I assured him.

  He shrugged. "I should've known better."

  "Lawrence," Susan trilled happily from the kitchen entrance, "you're here."

  The Marshal waved at her.

  “What on earth are you all doing back there?”

  “She was murdered,” Leslie wailed.

  Susan paled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Someone killed DinDin,” I explained, wondering if this was connected to the curiosity killing the cat note.

  “You named a chicken DinDin?” Griswald muttered beneath his breath.

  “Katie named her,” I murmured.

  Susan stepped outside in a long white robe that looked as though it could withstand the winds of Siberia. She glanced quickly at the dead bird, shook her head, and then moved to usher Leslie toward the house.

  They were almost trampled by the two uniformed cops who came running into the backyard, with Loretta trailing behind them.

  Griswald pulled out his badge and flashed it at the newcomers. “False alarm.”

  “There was a report of a body,” one of the cops said.

  “The report was exaggerated.” Griswald glared at Loretta. “It’s just a bird.”

  Angel stepped outside after helping Susan and Leslie navigate their way inside. He surveyed the confused cops, angry Griswald, and barely covered Loretta, before he settled on me. “Can I do anything?”

  I shook my head. “Can you make sure Katie doesn’t come out here?”

  “Templeton’s taking care of that.” He strode purposefully toward me. “What the hell happened?”

  I pointed to dead DinDin.

  He scowled before turning to Griswald. “You’re investigating?”

  Griswald shrugged. “I just got here.”

  Angel’s gaze flicked over to the two men in uniform.

  “I called them,” Griswald admitted sheepishly.

  “Loretta told him there was a dead body,” I interjected, feeling the need to defend the Marshal.

  Angel nodded sympathetically. “Loretta is a force of nature.”

  “What’s going on here?” a man bellowed as he came around the corner.

  I inhaled sharply as Kevin Belgard stepped into the yard.

  “False alarm, detective,” the younger uniformed officer assured him.

  Belgard’s flinty gaze swept over the yard. When he reached me, I may have inadvertently shuddered.

  My reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Belgard’s lips twitched, Angel wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and Griswald took a couple of steps so that he stood between me and Belgard.

  If I hadn’t been so freaked out, I would have appreciated their attempts to protect me.

  “Help you with something?” Griswald asked the detective. His tone was dismissive.

  “I heard the call on my scanner that there’s a body. Since I live in the neighborhood, I thought I’d check it out.”

  Griswald shook his head. “Nothing to see. Thanks for stopping by.”

  Belgard looked at me, pinning me with that cold gaze of his. “Glad to hear it. Enough tragedy has visited this family. I wouldn’t want anything else to happen.”

  While his words were the right thing to say, I knew that there was a threat behind them.

  Anger replaced the fear that had been coursing through me since seeing DinDin’s body. I tightened my grip on the jar of olives, fighting the urge to chuck it at Belgard’s smug face. Shaking Angel’s supportive arm off, I stepped closer to Belgard, determined to not let him leave thinking that I was afraid of him. “Thanks for being such a concerned neighbor.”

  Belgard’s gaze, which had been slithery, like a snake, turned hard. A muscle twitched in his cheek and his mouth flattened.

  “I’ve got this handled,” Griswald said, moving to stand beside me.

  I wasn’t quite sure if the statement was meant for me or Belgard.

  “I’ll be staying around, keeping an eye on things,” Griswald continued.

  “Me too,” Angel said.

  Glancing over, I saw that he had his arms crossed over his chest and was glaring at Belgard.

  “Too me,” DeeDee growled for good measure.

  Belgard eyed the dog worriedly.

  “Stay,” I ordered the Doberman.

  She stayed, but she also bared her teeth.

  Swallowing hard, Belgard backed away, not taking his eyes off the dog. “Glad to know you’ve got everything under control.”

  “I’ve got this under control,” Griswald told the uniformed cops who’d watched the exchange like it was a championship tennis match. “You can go.”

  They left too.

  When they were gone, and the only three people left in the yard were Griswald, Angel, and myself, I said, “Good girl, DeeDee. You’re a very good girl.”

  Griswald fixed me with an assessing look. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t do anything.”

  The Marshal pointed at Belgard’s house. “Tell me that when I look up who lives there, that it will be an unfamiliar name.”

  “Can’t do that,” I muttered.

  “Then save me the time and tell me.”

  “Belgard.”

  “Detective Belgard? Your concerned neighbor?”

  I nodded.

  Griswald closed his eyes and shook his head. “This family…”

  I winced.

  Without another word, he turned and walked into the house.

  I glanced at DinDin’s body and felt a twinge of guilt. “Dammit.”

  “You okay?” Angel asked.

  I nodded, but didn’t look at him. “I’d promised her that she’d be safe here.”

  “You promised a chicken?”

  I shrugged. “She was scared.”

  “What about you, Maggie? Are you scared?” He stepped closer, but didn’t touch me.

  “I’m pissed.” It sounded weak.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  I shook my head.

  “You want to tell me why you’re carrying around olives?”

  I glanced down at the jar in my hand. “It was the nearest available weapon.”

  Despite his concern, an amused smile tugged at his lips at the idea I’d armed myself with olives. “Are you in danger?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “But I can take care of myself. I’ve got to get a garbage bag.”

  Before he could say anything, I rushed into the kitchen, and almost inadvertently bowled over Marlene who had tears streaming down her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She threw herself into my arms and sobbed. I put the olives down on the counter and rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

 

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